#it’s not that it’s a terrible book or anything it just wasn’t what I had anticipated | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

calypso-rt · 1 month ago

Text

road trip!

with the insufferable Rafe Cameron

-> Rafe x F!Reader

-> Pt. 2: lodge retreat!

You should’ve seen this coming.

I mean, first, your car broke down and had to be taken to the shop.

So, when your best friend called in a frantic apology about car trouble, food poisoning, and possibly a minor curse, you knew you were doomed. Flights were sold out, rental cars were booked, and every other friend headed to the wedding was somehow already out of town.

Which left you with one horrifying, soul crushing option.

Rafe Cameron.

You stare at his name on your phone screen like it personally offends you. Your thumb hovers over the call button as if pressing it might burn your skin.

There has to be another way. A bus? A miracle Uber? A very fast bicycle?

But deep down, you know the truth. If you don’t find a way to get there, you’ll be missing out on one of the biggest moments of your friend's life. And there’s no way in hell you’re going to let that happen.

You take a deep breath, swallow what’s left of your pride, and hit call.

It rings. Once. Twice.

Then...

“Wow.” Rafe’s voice is impossibly smug, like he already knows why you’re calling. “Didn’t expect to see your name pop up. What, did hell freeze over? Pigs start flying?”

You clench your jaw, already regretting this. “Don’t start.”

“I haven’t even said anything,” he says, which is a lie because his tone is practically dripping with amusement. “So? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You inhale sharply through your nose. Just say it. Rip off the Band-Aid.

“I need a ride.”

There’s a pause. Then, the unmistakable sound of him laughing.

It’s not just a small chuckle. It’s a full-bodied, downright delighted laugh. You swear you can hear him grinning.

“Oh, this is amazing.”

“Rafe—”

“No, no, let me enjoy this. You. You, of all people, need me?”

You press your fingers to your temples. “Do you want gas money or not?”

“Gas money? Sweetheart, I don’t need your gas money. What I need is for you to say it one more time. Just so I can fully appreciate the moment.”

You grit your teeth. “I. Need. A. Ride.”

Another pause. Then—

“Yeah, alright.” He says it so easily, like he wasn’t planning on saying no in the first place. Like he was always going to say yes. “I’ll pick you up in twenty.”

You blink. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all choked up about it. Just be ready.”

He hangs up before you can respond.

You stare at your phone, debating whether it’s too late to back out entirely. Maybe getting a bike wasn’t such a terrible idea.

But then, twenty minutes later, Rafe Cameron rolls up in his car, window down, smirk in place, and the smuggest glint in his eye as he calls out:

“Ready for the best road trip of your life?”

This is going to be a long ride.

...

The first hour is tense.

You sit stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the endless stretch of road ahead. Rafe, for his part, lounges behind the wheel like he has all the time in the world, one hand draped lazily over the steering wheel, the other adjusting the radio.

“Jesus,” you mutter as he flips through stations again. “Can you just pick one?”

He clicks past another song. Then another.

“I could,” he says, like it’s a thoughtful decision. “But then how would I find the perfect song to fit our current mood?”

You scoff. “And what mood is that?”

He smirks. “Deep, unresolved sexual tension.”

You whip your head toward him so fast it’s a miracle you don’t get whiplash. “You’re insufferable.”

He laughs. “I mean, you did beg me for a ride, so...”

“Beg is a strong word.”

“Practically groveling.”

“Oh my God, Rafe.”

You sink lower into your seat, face burning in suppressed rage as he chuckles under his breath, clearly enjoying every second of this.

For a moment, there’s silence... until Rafe reaches for the GPS and completely ignores the route you mapped out earlier.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demand.

“Taking the faster way.”

You frown. “That’s not the faster way.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t! I literally checked last night. My route is better.”

He glances at you like you’ve personally offended him. “I think I know how to read a damn GPS.”

“And I think you have the directional skills of a blindfolded himbo.”

Rafe scoffs, gripping the wheel. “That’s rich coming from someone who almost got lost inside a Target last week.”

Your jaw drops. “I did not—”

“You called me from the home goods aisle panicking.”

“It was a big Target!”

He grins, looking far too pleased with himself. “Sure, sweetheart.”

You glare daggers at him, but before you can fire back, the GPS’s robotic voice chimes in:

“Recalculating route…”

You turn to him slowly, a smirk curling at your lips.

“Oh?” you say, mocking surprise. “What’s this? The GPS thinks I was right?”

Rafe clenches his jaw, white knuckling the wheel.

“I hate you.”

You beam. “No, you don’t.”

He lets out a long suffering sigh. Then, before you can bask in your victory, he suddenly cranks up the radio obnoxiously loud, blasting some overplayed pop song.

You groan, sinking into your seat.

...

The gas station is a godsend.

After what feels like hours of bickering, you practically fling yourself out of the car the second Rafe pulls into the lot. The fresh air is a relief, or at least, it would be, if Rafe weren’t right behind you, stretching obnoxiously like he’s never known a single hardship in his life.

“God, I love road trips,” he says, grinning as he watches you roll your shoulders like you’re shaking off his entire existence.

You ignore him and push through the glass doors, the too-cold AC blasting you in the face. The fluorescent lights hum faintly overhead, and the aisles are stocked with the usual: chips, questionable hot dogs, and enough sugar to give an elephant heart palpitations.

You head straight for the snack aisle, Rafe following too closely behind.

“I’m thinking—" you start, reaching for a bag of your favorite chips.

Rafe makes a disgusted noise.

“Oh, absolutely not.” He plucks the bag from your hands like it personally offends him. “We’re getting road trip snacks, not whatever this garbage is.”

You snatch it back. “Excuse me?”

He gestures vaguely at the bag. “That’s the worst possible choice.”

Your mouth drops open. “Are you insane? This is objectively the best snack in the entire store.”

“Objectively wrong.”

You glare. “Okay, genius, what’s your expert pick?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Beef jerky.”

You actually recoil. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You’re one of those people?”

Rafe smirks. “One of what people?”

“The kind of people who sit in the car, chewing on some nasty, dried-up piece of cow like it’s fine dining?”

He scoffs. “It’s protein.”

“It’s disgusting.”

He places a bag of jerky in the basket anyway. You dramatically shove your chips in beside it, like it’s a battle of good versus evil.

“What else?” he asks, scanning the shelves.

You grab a candy bar. “This.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow. “That’s just straight sugar.”

“Exactly.”

He sighs, tossing in a pack of peanut butter crackers. “Balance.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What are you, my dad?”

Rafe ignores you, moving toward the drink coolers. You trail behind him, still fuming about the beef jerky situation.

He pulls open the glass door and grabs a bottle of water.

You squint. “Water? That’s your road trip drink?”

“Yeah?” He frowns at you. “What’s wrong with water?”

You shake your head in disappointment. “You’re so boring.”

Rafe glares. “Oh, I’m boring? What are you getting, then?”

You grab the brightest, most radioactive looking energy drink you can find and hold it up triumphantly.

Rafe looks deeply unimpressed. “That is going to take years off your life.”

“And?”

He just shakes his head, tossing his water into the basket. “If your heart gives out mid-drive, I’m not pulling over.”

You grin. “I knew you cared.”

Rafe rolls his eyes, marching toward the counter to pay. You follow, watching as the bored looking cashier scans your deeply incompatible snack selections.

When Rafe pulls out his wallet, you immediately reach for yours. “I can pay for mine.”

He tuts, shoving his card into the reader before you can argue. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he says, smirking. “You can owe me.”

You narrow your eyes. “Owe you what?”

His smirk deepens. “Haven’t decided yet.”

You cross your arms, but he just grabs the bag of snacks and saunters out of the store, looking far too pleased with himself.

You sigh, trailing after him.

This road trip is going to kill you.

...

The rain starts suddenly.

One second, the road is dry and clear, then, out of nowhere, the sky splits open, unleashing a torrential downpour so intense that Rafe has to crank the wipers up to their highest setting. The world outside turns into a blurry mess of gray and streaking headlights, and even he slows down, muttering a curse under his breath.

“Great,” you mumble, pulling your hoodie tighter around you. “Just perfect.”

Rafe barely spares you a glance, both hands gripping the wheel. “Relax. It’s just rain.”

It is not just rain. It’s an apocalypse. The wind howls, trees sway dangerously, and the GPS chimes in, completely unhelpful:

“Rerouting… rerouting…”

Rafe exhales sharply. “Fantastic.”

You frown, glancing at the map. “Uh… I think we missed our turn.”

“We did not—”

Lightning flashes. The GPS glitches. And then, as if the universe itself wants to prove a point...

THUNK.

The car jerks. Rafe curses, fighting the wheel as he pulls over to the shoulder. The rain slams against the windshield, making it nearly impossible to see, but you already know what’s wrong.

Flat tire.

You both sit there for a second, staring at the dashboard like maybe, somehow, this is just a bad dream.

Then...

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rafe mutters.

You sigh, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ll fix it.”

Rafe’s head whips toward you. “Excuse me?”

You shrug. “I know how to change a tire.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, okay.”

“I do!”

He gives you a deeply skeptical look. “Alright, fine. Let’s see it, then.”

You roll your eyes and push the door open, stepping into the absolute nightmare that is the current weather situation. Rain instantly soaks through your hoodie, the wind nearly knocking you off balance as you march around to the trunk.

Rafe follows, watching as you pull out the spare and drop to your knees to inspect the damage.

You try to focus, really, you do, but the rain is relentless, blinding and cold and miserable. Your fingers slip against the wet metal as you wrestle with the jack, struggling to get it in place.

And then, before you can stop him, Rafe crouches down beside you, scowling as he physically moves your hands out of the way.

“What the hell—”

“You should’ve let me handle it.” His voice is low, grumbly, but not in his usual mocking way. It’s different.

Protective.

You blink up at him, shivering slightly as he moves closer, blocking some of the rain with his body.

“I had it,” you argue, but it comes out softer than intended.

He doesn’t look at you. Just focuses on loosening the lug nuts, his jaw clenched like he’s irritated... but not at you. At the fact that you were out here, in the freezing rain, doing this yourself.

The rest of the job doesn’t take long, and when he finally lowers the jack, he stands, reaching down to haul you up without warning.

You stumble slightly. He catches you easily.

For a second, you just… stand there.

Close.

The rain drips from his hair, his hoodie completely soaked, but all you can focus on is the way his hands linger: one on your wrist, the other still at your waist, like he’s making sure you’re steady before he lets go.

It’s… unsettling.

Not in a bad way.

Just in a way that makes your stomach feel weird and your heart do something stupid.

But then he exhales sharply, like he’s snapping himself out of something, and steps back.

“Next time, just let me handle it,” he mutters. Then, before you can argue, he’s already moving, tossing the tools back into the trunk.

You watch him for a moment before shaking yourself off and climbing back into the car.

The ride after that is… different.

Quieter.

Not in a tense, waiting-for-the-next-argument kind of way, but in a way that feels oddly comfortable.

Rafe leans back in his seat, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually behind your headrest.

And for the first time, it doesn’t feel annoying.

It just feels… warm.

Familiar.

At some point, he reaches over to mess with the radio again. This time, when he flips through the stations, you don’t complain. You just glance at him, shaking your head, lips twitching slightly.

He catches you looking. Smirks.

And you don’t roll your eyes.

Not this time.

...

After the flat tire, the rainstorm, and the unfortunate realization that there were no motels nearby, you and Rafe had been forced to crash in the car overnight. Literally. Him in the driver’s seat, you curled up in the passenger seat, both of you grumbling about how much this sucked before eventually passing out.

Now, you wake up to the smell of coffee.

For a second, you’re disoriented, blinking against the golden light pouring through the windshield. Your neck is stiff, your hoodie is bunched in all the wrong places, and the leather seat sticks to your skin in the worst way.

And then...

A voice.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

You groan, rubbing your eyes. Rafe leans against the open driver’s side door, arms crossed, a smug but noticeably softer smirk on his face.

“We’re at a diner,” he says, nodding toward the neon sign outside. “Figured you’d want real food instead of gas station snacks.”

You blink at him. Then at the diner. Then back at him.

And that’s when you see it.

In his other hand: a cup of coffee.

Your coffee.

You sit up straighter. “Wait, is that...?”

He shrugs. “You take it with two sugars, right?”

You stare at him, momentarily speechless.

Rafe Cameron, your mortal enemy just yesterday, remembers how you take your coffee. And brought you one before you even woke up.

“Uh.” You take the cup hesitantly, fingers brushing his for a split second. “Thanks?”

“Don’t make it weird,” he mutters, turning toward the diner. “Come on. I need real food before I lose my mind.”

You follow him inside, still thrown off by… whatever this is.

The place is quintessential roadside diner. Vinyl booths, checkered floors, an old jukebox in the corner playing a song that sounds straight out of a ‘90s romcom. A waitress with a pen tucked behind her ear waves you to a booth near the window.

Rafe slides in across from you, stretching his arms over the back of the seat. “So,” he says, smirking again, but there’s something different about it this time. “What’s the move? Classic pancakes? Or are you one of those avocado toast people?”

You scoff. “Avocado toast? What do I look like, a health influencer?”

He grins. “Hey, you give off the vibe.”

You kick him under the table. He chuckles.

The waitress reappears, flipping open her notepad. “What can I get y’all?”

You glance at the menu quickly before ordering the pancake combo. Rafe orders an omelet, then, as the waitress starts to walk away, he calls out:

“Oh, and... can we get extra syrup?”

You freeze.

You always ask for extra syrup. You were literally about to say it.

You narrow your eyes at him. “How do you...”

He just shrugs. “You like extra syrup. You always complain when there isn’t enough.”

Again, you’re momentarily speechless.

Rafe doesn’t just remember things about you. He notices them.

And now, in the warm morning light, with his hoodie slightly rumpled and his hair messier than usual, he looks…

Less like the cocky nightmare who laughed when you asked for a ride.

More like the guy who fixed a tire in the rain without hesitation.

Who made sure you had coffee before you even woke up.

Who just ordered extra syrup for you.

“Okay, who are you,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, “and what have you done with Rafe Cameron?”

Rafe tilts his head, considering. Then, lazily, he smirks. “Maybe you just bring out the best in me.”

You roll your eyes, but this time, it’s harder to ignore the way your stomach flips.

And when the food arrives, when he casually slides the syrup your way before you can even reach for it, you’re pretty sure you’re screwed.

...

By the time you finally pull up to the wedding venue, a sprawling lodge tucked into the mountains, the sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. It looks ridiculously picturesque, like something out of a movie.

You, on the other hand, look less picturesque.

“I swear to God,” you grumble, twisting around in the passenger seat to grab your overnight bag, “if my hair is permanently flattened from sleeping in the car, I’m blaming you.”

Rafe snorts, shifting the car into park. “Please. You’ve looked worse.”

You turn to glare at him, only to find him already looking at you. Except this time, there’s no evil Rafe smirk. Just… something else. Something softer.

It throws you off so badly that you almost forget to respond.

Almost.

“Thanks,” you deadpan. “That’s exactly what every girl wants to hear before walking into a wedding.”

Rafe chuckles, shaking his head before pushing his door open. You follow suit, stepping out into the cool mountain air.

Up ahead, the venue is already buzzing with activity: people unloading suitcases, music drifting from somewhere inside, laughter echoing across the lot. Your best friend is probably freaking out over last minute details.

And you?

You’re standing beside Rafe Cameron, staring up at the lodge like you haven’t just spent the past twenty four hours begrudgingly trapped in a car with him.

Like you haven’t spent the past two hours noticing little things you weren’t supposed to.

Rafe stretches, rolling his shoulders before glancing at you. “You good?”

You nod, but before you can take a step, he reaches over and tugs your hoodie into place.

It’s nothing. Just a small adjustment, fingers barely grazing your shoulder. But the second it happens, your breath catches.

It’s stupid, really. After everything, the bickering, the bad directions, the gas station argument, this is what gets you?

A two second fix?

But when you glance up at him, there’s something unreadable in his expression. Something that lingers for half a second too long before he clears his throat and steps back.

You swallow. “Uh. Thanks.”

“Yeah.” His voice is quieter than usual.

For the first time since this whole trip started, you have no idea what to say next.

So instead, you hoist your bag higher onto your shoulder and nod toward the lodge. “We should… probably go find everyone.”

Rafe nods once. “Yeah.”

Neither of you move right away.

And when you finally do, when you walk side by side toward the entrance, the glow of the venue lights spilling onto the gravel path, you can’t shake the feeling that something just shifted.

Like maybe, just maybe, this trip isn’t over yet.

Pt. 2: lodge retreat!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

tomriddlehyperfixataion · 1 month ago

Text

A perfect Match- Tom Riddle x Reader

Summary; Tom gets love potioned-but doesn't lock onto the girl who had slipped it into his drink and is instead obsessed with a girl who soon holds a deeper understanding of Tom than anyone else ever would.

Warnings; Love potion use, drugging, murder, murder compliance, hiding evidence, helping make a dark lord. Tom being cute.

mostly fluff, with a detailed part about Tom making his diary Horcrux. I saw someone request for a reader who actually helped Tom become the dark lord so i put it in here cuz ive had this idea for a whileeee. enjoyyy

It was supposed to be a normal morning. The usual, breakfast and morning mail-slowly waking up with the chatter of friends and fellow students filling the great hall with noise.

What she absolutely did not expect-was for Tom riddle to profess his love for her-in the most out-of-character way.

Her friends were giggling while (y/n) stared in shock-Tom holding her hands to his chest as he leaned in way too close. “and who might you be darling?” Tom cooed, a flirtatious grin on his face as he leaned in close and (y/n) used the fact that he was holding her hands to his chest to push him away.

“uh-(y/n)?” (y/n) said awkwardly, looking back at her friends for help but they were just snickering. She looked back at Tom-noting the way his eyes were a bit-pink. Love potion. of course. “uh-mind-backing uuuup!”

(y/n) squealed as he sat down beside her, pulling her into his lap and burying his face in her shoulder, arms wrapped tight around her waist-digging his hands into her sides as he inhaled deeply. “What a lovely name, (y/n).” he purred in her ear and she squirmed-putting her hands on his arms to push away but he didn’t budge.

“Help.” She mouths to her friends but they’re all snickering at the clearly love potioned Tom Riddle. She turns, seeing Tom’s friends walking up to her, Tom’s used cup in one’s hands.

“Love potion-someone must’ve slipped it in, saw you same time he took a sip.” One says-Rosier she thinks his last name was. The boy seem uncomfortable but also amused-watching Tom snuggle her into his lap-glaring at them, daring anyone to take his new love.

“yeah-got that-help.” (y/n) struggles out-squeaking as Tom kisses her neck and she accidentally elbows the side of his head-she only feels half bad, because he lets her go and she's on her feet in seconds.

Tom’s following her all too quickly and (y/n) is booking it down between the tables towards the main doors, praying she could make it to Slughorn before Tom could catch her-but he’s taller and quickly gaining on her.

Laughter from the great hall follow her ears but she has to ignore her embarrassment.

She skids to a stop right before a wall and twists around, jumping aside to avoid Tom-Tom slamming into the wall since he wasn’t expecting that. “sorry!” she yelps as blood drips from his nose-she feels terrible but she had to get to Slughorn before Tom did anything he’d regret.

She almost hesitates-wanting to see if she’d hurt his nose badly but then she gets a look at his eyes-pink-and she's running again, Tom stumbling up from the floor, dizzy but determined, following her.

She skips steps as she races down towards the dungeons towards Slughorn’s office and the potions classroom, she can hear Tom right behind her. She gets to the door-slamming it open without knocking-Tom slams into her and they both stumble into the room.

Slughorn, thankfully, was there-his eyes going wide with shock as his star pupil tumbled into the classroom-clinging to a girl who preferred to stay out of sight. “Professor-help!” she squealed, Tom’s arms tight around her and he inhaled her perfume, teeth grazing on her upper neck and she nearly elbows him again.

“Now now-what is going on?! Tom do get off her-what’s gotten into you my boy?” Slughorn rushes over, prying Tom off the poor girl as she scrambles to get out of his hold-Tom glaring wholeheartedly at Slughorn.

“Love potion-strong one-dunno who,” (y/n) breathes out from the other side of the classroom, Tom’s eyes locking onto her again and Slughorn sits him down before he can lunge at her.

“All right Tom, let me handle this yes?” Slughorn asks, hoping Tom will listen-and Tom huffs, his jaw clenching as he looks at (y/n) who tries to hide behind a work desk. Blood stains Tom’s nose and upper lip, and Slughorn quickly makes an antidote to the love potion. “Here you go my boy, drink up.” Tom glares at him, nearly baring his teeth.

“If you drink it, I'll kiss you,” (y/n) says to convince him and the love potioned Tom snatches the cup, drinking the antidote in one gulp. It takes a moment but when Tom lowers the cup, he looks confused.

“What…happened?” Tom asks, looking up at Slughorn as the professor chuckles warmly, taking the cup back.

“You were love potioned my boy, a pretty strong one too from how you were acting. Luckily it seemed you latched onto Ms. (l/n) instead of whoever was trying to have you, eh?” Slughorn joked and turned, Tom turned his gaze to (y/n), who was blushing heavily and standing up from her hiding spot.

“I…apologize for whatever I may have done, Ms. (l/n).” Tom said awkwardly, standing up from the desk he’d been sat at, wincing at the pain in his nose and the iron taste on his tongue, along with the slight pounding in the side of his head.

“It’s-it’s okay, uhm, I’m sorry for elbowing you and making you run into a wall.” (y/n) said, taking her wand out. “Episkey.” With a flick of her wand, Tom’s nose is repaired and he groans-the pounding in his head ebbing away. “Sorry,” (y/n) winces, putting her wand back in her robe sleeve holder.

“It’s fine.” Tom waved her off, wiping his nose and upper lip of blood-smearing it on his hand and he sniffs, cringing at the taste of blood. “Did i…do anything?” he asks, looking back at (y/n) and she shook her head, Tom’s shoulders dropping in relief.

“I never exactly gave you the chance to,” (y/n) mumbled and Tom sighed again, nodding.

“Thanks, I’d feel…bad if I had done something with neither of our consent.” He muttered and (y/n) nodded, the two standing across from each other, still awkward.

“Well-I’m-gonna go finish breakfast, bye.” (y/n) mumbled out and then she left the classroom, Tom’s eyes following her. How lucky he’d been to have her as his ‘target’, she hadn’t taken advantage of him-instead she’d gotten him an antidote as quickly as possible, though with minor injury.

This, strange-heartbreakingly rare-action has Tom intrigued with (y/n). Not many would pass up a chance with Tom, especially if he was love-potioned to do whatever they wanted, and obsession overpowered his logic.

And yet, she thought about him, and not herself.

How…kind.

He stalks after her, curiosity burning in his chest, along with anger at whoever had slipped the love potion into his drink.

Olive Hornby. A dreadful girl who bullied anyone ‘beneath’ her and was known to be a spoiled brat. Tom-he had to say-detested her, especially since she was the one to slip the potion into his drink, he found out only because she talked too loudly, complaining that ‘her plan’ hadn’t worked and that Tom had looked at (y/n) instead of her.

Olive Hornby proceeds to have horrid boils all over her body for the next week, painful and pus-filled boils that render her practically useless and pathetic-she clings to the hospital wing, begging Madam Tegner to give her potions and salves to get rid of the boils but they persist-a fitting punishment Tom thinks, for trying to control him-to take something that would never be hers.

And in return for her, kindness, (y/n) receives a bouquet of pretty Moon lilies paired with pink tulips. The gesture is clear-‘thank you’. She blinks, picking up the bouquet that had landed in front of her during breakfast, turning it over in her hands. “oh, that’s so beautiful, whose it from?” her friend asks and (y/n) turns it over, looking for a tag but sees no note, just initials.

T.M.R.

“It's from Tom, probably a thanks for getting him the antidote for the love potion.” (y/n) murmurs, her friend hums, admiring the bouquet.

(y/n) puts the flowers in a vase in on her bedside table, they were a very pretty bouquet, she had to easily admit. Tom knew his flowers-she looks up the meanings of both-Lilies Symbolize gratitude and appreciation, and pink tulips mean ‘thank you for your care’, a very sweet gesture of thanks from the presumed ‘untouchable’ Tom Riddle.

She doesn’t think on it further, assuming the ‘thank you’ bouquet was the last of her interactions with Tom.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t.

He asks her. On a fucking. Date.

Tom Riddle-asked HER on a DATE!!

“I’m sorry-what?” (y/n) sputters, flushed face half hidden by her Ravenclaw scarf, eyes wide as she looks at Tom-his hands tucked into his winter coat, eyes gleaming amused at her, his smirk half covered by his Slytherin scarf that’s tucked into his coat.

“Would you accompany me to the three broomsticks this weekend, as my date?” Tom asks again, amused by the bewildered look on (y/n)’s face. She blinks at him-shocked-her friends giggle behind her.

Girls on the other side of the courtyard-along with some guys-looked jealous, heartbroken ‘why her?’ they think, ‘why the Ravenclaw? Why not us?’

“uh-why?” (y/n) asks and Tom laughs, different from what she’s heard before from him-real.

“You intrigue me, (y/n).” he says her name like it’s honey on his tongue, a smirk on his terribly handsome face, her friends all giggle again as they shove her forward slightly-towards Tom. “You did something not many would, I wanted to see what you could be like without…me hanging off you.” he jokes, about a pathetic moment, a weak moment-he never jokes about such things.

“oh-uh,” (y/n) stutters, her friends shove her lightly and she jolts-looking up at Tom-snowflakes in her lashes-eyes reflecting the snow. “uh-sure yeah-okay.”

Tom grins, a charming thing-practiced, teeth barely shown. “Perfect, I’ll meet you at the great hall, nine sharp.” Tom said, almost cooed-and then he was gone, heading back into the castle, snow crunching under his boots as (y/n)’s friends surrounded her, giggling and teasing-Emma demanding she allow them to dress her up.

She lets them, they dress her in blue and green-a mix of the house colors. A green button-down winter coat, a blue plaid skirt, warm stockings-tall winter boots, warm winter gloves, and a cap that keeps her head warm and matches her coat.

She meets Tom at the great hall and he looks sharp in his winter coat, smirking at her as she descends the stairs that lead back up to the hall of changing staircases. “all dolled up for me?” he teases and (y/n) huffs, her cheeks already warm.

“My friends insisted.” She mumbles, he chuckles-a slight rasp to it that has her ears turning pink and he holds out his arm. She takes it and he leads her to the carriages that take the students to Hogsmeade and opens the door for her, stepping in after her.

The ride over to Hogsmeade is quiet and upon arrival Tom opens the door for her, holding out his hand for her after stepping out. She takes his hand, using it for balance as she steps out of the carriage and he continues to hold her hand as they walk down the path into Hogsmeade until they reach the three broomsticks-Tom opening the door for her and she quickly steps inside, shuddering as warmth rushes at her. She starts to take off her coat to hang it up but feels Tom take it for her, hanging it up along with her scarf and cap-his hung on the hook beside hers.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, and Tom smirked with a nod, his hand on the small of her back as he led her to an open table near the fireplace-he pulled out a chair for her-her back to the fireplace-and she sits, he even pushes her chair in and then he sits opposite of her.

She orders a butterbeer and Tom gets the same, along with a chowder bread bowl for them to share. (y/n) is quiet for a few minutes, tearing some of the bread to dip into the hot chowder and enjoying the flavor of the soup and the warm fluffy sour bread. She looks up at Tom, who was staring back at her, his chin resting on his fist.

She cleared her throat, sitting back in her chair. “so, uh,” she started, Tom tilting his head at her slightly, a smirk growing on his lips. “why-did you ask me out on a date?” she asked, a bit shyly-to be honest this was her first date as well, Tom being the first boy to ask her out…ever.

Tom hummed, looking away in thought and then back at her. “you…didn’t take advantage of me when I was love potioned, even though you could’ve easily done so,” Tom said and her brows furrowed.

“I didn’t because It would’ve been wrong to do so, and…you deserve to have consent in whatever…happens to you.” she said, unsure if it came out correctly-but it seems it did because Tom smiles.

“Exactly, I loathe to admit it, but most girls at the school would take whatever chance they have with me-even if I don’t want it. Believe me, its happened before, thankfully never successful.” Tom says quietly and (y/n)’s frown deepens. How awful. “but that’s exactly why I wanted to…allow a chance, I suppose-you didn’t take advantage, you respected me, and I respect that-and I thought that perhaps-even if nothing comes from it-a date would be…a good way to see if that potion was some odd sort of… meet-cute if you will.”

Tom said and (y/n) can’t help but laugh a bit, Tom smirking at her. “Meet-cute? Didn’t know you knew what those were.” (y/n) laughed gently, but she leans forward on the table, feeling more comfortable now. Tom laughs in return, shrugging slightly.

“I am an avid reader, and I do read more than just schoolbooks, otherwise I believe my brain would rot and I’d be purely academic.” Tom jokes and (y/n) laughs again, a sound that Tom finds he doesn’t mind at all.

“Are you a romance reader at all or is it tales of adventure and dragons?” (y/n) asks, half teasing and Tom chuckles, shaking his head a bit as he lifts his chin from his fist, allowing his hand to rest on the table.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I do like to read romance,” Tom told her like it was a secret, leaning in close to say it and (y/n) laughs.

“So, the big bad Slytherin prefect reads romance novels? How interesting,” (y/n) chuckles and Tom smirks at her, leaning back to take a drink of his butterbeer. The rest of their date goes pretty well, (y/n) had never imagined she could have so much to talk about with Tom Riddle.

She returns to her dorm holding a Starflower, twirling the stem in her fingers, smiling at it as she leans against the door to close it, she looks up to see her roommates/friends, all leaning towards her with interest and (y/n) gives a shy grin.

“We’re going on a study date Wednesday.” She says and her friends all cheer, including squealing and grabbing her to make her give more detail about the date. She enjoys telling them everything-something she never expected to do since Tom was the first to ask her out-and he’d asked her out on a second date.

‘would you mind studying with me Wednesday night?’

‘like a study date?’

‘exactly, so?’

‘I wouldn’t mind, not at all. What time?’

‘just after dinner, I’ll escort you from the great hall.’

(y/n) smiled as she remembered the conversation between her and Tom as he dropped her off at the Ravenclaw tower entrance, she wasn’t going to make him climb all the stairs up since the Slytherin common room was all the way at the bottom of the castle-and Ravenclaw had the highest tower.

He’d left her with a kiss to her hand and a charming smile, she’d smiled like an idiot, feeling the high of a good first date that had led to a second.

She’s giddy all the way to Wednesday night, her leg bouncing under the table as she struggles to eat her dinner at a normal pace-her bag tucked against her side, ready for her study date. She looks up across the hall-locking eyes with Tom, he smirks at her, taking a sip from his cup at the same moment.

Her cheeks flush and she looks back down at her plate-her friends teasing her-only one date and she was smitten? How adorable.

Tom thinks the same thing from across the hall, letting his gaze drop from her to finish his dinner, strangely excited for the study date. When he finishes he stands up from the Slytherin table, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, coolly making his way to the doors of the great hall.

(y/n) finishes her meal at the same and her friend does a quick look over before sending her off on her date. (y/n) has to hold back from literally skipping over to the doors, Tom waiting for her. He smirks at her, as if sensing her excitement and he holds his hand out-(y/n) can feel many eyes on them but right now? She doesn’t really care.

She takes his hand and he leads her to the library where they sit in a nice quiet corner. Like on the first date, he pulls out a chair for her and when she sits, he pushes it back into the table before circling around to sit across from her. They both pull out their notebooks and then Tom also pulls out a small stash of candy-probably from Honey dukes. Chocolates, licorice wands, and jellybeans.

“ooh,” (y/n) hums, taking a licorice wand and starting to snack at it while Tom stands, fetching a few books from the library to study with and soon books are spread across the table, Tom sharing his notes with her as they quietly enjoy their time together.

(y/n) absentmindedly took a ‘every flavor’ jellybean from the box, not bothering to look at it as she popped it into her mouth-fully regretting it. “Eugh-“ (y/n) choked and Tom’s head snapped up to look at her, his chair pushing out a bit at the look on her face, but she waved his concern off. “leech flavor.” She said and Tom chuckled, watching her spit out and vanish the gross jellybean.

“Not a fan of leeches?” Tom teased, grabbing the Jellybean box to shuffle through the candies inside, eventually finding one that he seemed suitable and handing it to her.

“Who is? Other than plague doctors and potion makers?” (y/n) huffed, taking the jellybean and carefully biting it, pleasantly surprised by the taste of cinnamon sugar. “how’d you know this one was good?” (y/n) asked Tom, chewing on the rest of the jellybean as Tom found a good one for himself.

“I have a good eye,” he said with a wink, popping a green jellybean into his mouth. He hummed, licking his teeth. “Candy apple.” (y/n) snorted, looking back down at her potions book, twirling her quill between her fingers. They talk quietly every now and then, mostly focused on studying-as was the point of a study date.

Tom’s shoe brushes against hers, her legs crossed under the table and extended, but he doesn’t move his leg back after he bumps her, instead leaning his foot against hers a bit, she smiles to herself and gets comfortable like that.

It’s pleasant and quiet between them, a conversation here and there, passing notes once in a while, reviewing the others work to give it fresh eyes. They spend so much time there that the warning bell for curfew goes off and they both jolt-Tom’s eyes going to his watch-huffing.

“Already almost ten,” Tom murmurs, (y/n) beginning to pack up notes and the books she brought while Tom stands to put the library books back where he got them. Soon the table was clean of papers and candy and Tom escorted (y/n) back to her common room. “I had a good time, something I must admit I rarely even think.” Tom says, a smirk growing on his face and (y/n) laughs, blushing as he kisses her hand again. “till tomorrow (y/n).” Tom says, almost a purring tone to his voice and (y/n) laughs again, waving goodbye for the night as he waits until she was inside her common room, twisting on his heel to head back to the Slytherin common room.

They have another study date on Friday, and then go to Hogsmeade again on Saturday, and then another study date on Tuesday.

(y/n) never thought she could feel so giddy over a person, Tom never thought he could enjoy being around another person so much-never thought he’d consider what someone would like. He would walk through the school-passing by students, spotting things that other girls would have and think ‘oh, (y/n) would like that, I should get it for her’ he’d pause-realize what he thought, process it, and then move on.

And then the next owl mail, (y/n) would have it, be it a bracelet, or a bouquet of flowers, or even a hair accessory; (y/n) cherished each one, having never been given courting gifts before. She’d smile at Tom each time she’d get something from him and he’d smirk back.

Soon enough, he was asking her to be his girl, with a bouquet of flowers and all, it was just before Valentine’s day, she was out in the courtyard with her friends, watching first years play in the snow. She heard Tom from behind and turned, gasping at the beautiful bouquet of flowers he had in hand, which he gave to her. “oh, Tom they’re so pretty!” she cooed, admiring the array of flowers. Roses, lilies, and daises-with baby’s breath dashed in to fill the bouquet in its empty spots.

Tom smirked at her reaction, stepping in close to her, body heat shared close. He took her hand-which she wore winter gloves to protect her fingers from the cold-and kissed her knuckles, staring at her with intense eyes. “be my girl?” he asked quietly, as if it was only for her ears. She couldn’t help her giddy grin and she nodded, breathing out her answer.

“Yes.” She said softly and Tom smirk widened, he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, and then her knuckles again-leaving her giddy and giggly as he left her with her friends who all went nuts as soon as he was back inside the castle.

(y/n) didn’t stop smiling for a whole week, every time she saw Tom she’d just smile even more and he was greatly amused by it all, genuinely amused, a flutter in his chest each time he saw her giddy grin, him the cause of it. He was fond of the fact that he was the cause of her happiness, he really liked it, and he wanted to keep making her smile. It was a new thing, to want to make someone happy other than himself-but he didn’t mind it, not at all.

So every weekend, he took (y/n) on a date in Hogsmeade, doing whatever felt right for that day, and every night they have a study date, sometimes in the Slytherin common room, Tom glaring at anyone that had a say against it. (y/n) just enjoys spending time with Tom, he was such a gentleman, and made her really happy-she always felt giddy with the mere thought of being around him.

Their first kiss is sweet, a classic, taking place just after a Hogsmeade date and Tom was once more dropping her off at her common room, kissing her hand as she stood before him on the steps up to the common room entrance. “until tomorrow my dear,” Tom said with a smirk, looking up at her through his lashes and she smiles, biting her lip.

He goes to step back but she lays her hand on his shoulder, keeping him close.

Her eyes dash down to his lips and then meet his eyes again, he can’t help the stutter in his heart, stepping closer to where she stood-she leans in close, he meets her halfway-pressing his lips against hers in a soft first kiss.

He can’t help but let his eyes flutter closed, her lips soft and sweet against his, she tasted like the butterbeer she drank at Hogsmeade, he tastes like black licorice. They both pull away after a few moments, (y/n) smiled shyly and Tom smirked back, leaving her with one more kiss to her-in his opinion-perfect lips, kissing her hand once more, and then leaving as she went into her common room. It closed behind her and she sunk against the wall with a sigh, her face warm and heart beating faster than a snitch.

Tom leaned against the cold wall next to him, brushing his fingers against his lips, a soft smile on his face-his eyes soft. He takes a breath and continues on to his common room, a pep in his step.

(y/n) made her way to the library after classes were done, ready to meet Tom-however she was distracted by several professors suddenly rushing by with a gurney with a student on it-a student that was strangely frozen-face paralyzed with fear. Her brows furrow, stuck to one spot for a moment before she moved on, a strange anxiety ebbing at the back of her chest as she heads to the library, quickly going up to her usual table with Tom-waiting for him to arrive.

She waited for a few minutes longer than she usually did for Tom to arrive, looking up as she heard his footsteps, he quickly walked up to their table and sat across from her-looking strangely giddy. “What happened?” (y/n) asked him and he only smiled her, intense and strange, taking her hand and kissing it.

“A step forward my dear,” he said vaguely, soon coming down from…high he was on and holding her hand on the table as he studied with her, though he still seemed distracted, a strange look in his eyes that left her feeling unnerved.

Later she found out the student she saw being escorted by gurney had been petrified, the head nurse was unsure how, the professors had no answers either, the student was in Gryffindor-a muggleborn. Two weeks later another student was petrified, also muggleborn-Ravenclaw. Again, no one knew why-there was no evidence of spell casting like ‘petrificus totalus’, or some sort of potion in their systems.

One is a coincidence two is a pattern. That was all that went through her head as the two petrified students were kept in the hospital wing, both having no evidence for why they were petrified-it was too similar.

When a third student was petrified-another muggleborn, Ravenclaw again-she knew something was going on at Hogwarts. And strangely, each time a student was petrified-Tom would be strangely giddy, wild look in his eyes that had her wondering if he had anything to do with the petrified students.

So, she followed him one night, he looked to be on a mission. He’d left her by the stairs of Ravenclaw tower with a kiss to her temple and hand before leaving, robes billowing behind him as he walked with a sense of immense purpose. She followed him, all the way to the second-floor girls lavatory, where she remembered Myrtle Warren going into way earlier after Olive Hornby(yes the very same that love potioned Tom) had bullied her relentlessly about her glasses.

Tom entered the lavatory, and (y/n) hung just outside, hearing Myrtle sobbing and Tom…Tom began to speak in a strange language-one (y/n) didn’t speak but knew. Parseltongue! She stepped forward, pushing open the door-wondering what was going on-going still in shock and a bit of awe as the sinks in the middle of the room opened, revealing a tunnel that went deep down under the school-Tom said something else in the hissing language and (y/n) heard something big climbing up the pipes-something slithering.

“Tom? What are you doing?” (y/n) asked and Tom turned quickly-eyes going wide-he lunged towards her, wrapping his arms around her head and bringing it to his chest so she couldn’t see, she just barely caught a glimpse of myrtle coming out of a bathroom stall and then something massive hissed-a body then dropped to the floor.

“Don’t look. don’t look.” Tom breathed into her ear, practically begging, his arms tight around her-refusing to let her move. He turned his head-speaking in parseltongue again-the massive serpent(it had to be) going back into the pipes, the sinks closing together again. Tom took a shaky breath, moving his hands to her shoulders and stepping back, looking down at her-eyes intense and concerned.

“What was that?” (y/n) asked him before he could say anything, reaching up to grab his arms as he stared at her. He seemed hesitant for a moment, licking his lips-she looked at Myrtle, she was dead on the floor-eyes wide and lifeless. “Did you order it to kill her?”

Tom swallowed harshly, staring hard at her before reaching up to cup her face. He didn’t seem to know what to say. “It’s a basilisk,” he murmured finally, looking back at the sinks, breathing hard once. “it comes from the chamber of secrets.”

The words feel like a bucket of cold electric water being dumped on her, her mouth dropping open, Tom continues to speak. “I’m a descendant of Slytherin, only I can control it. I found it earlier this year, I tested the beast, the petrified students-all my hand. Myrtle was different, she was a necessary death.” He rambled, (y/n) gently took his face to make him look at her, stepping closer to him, his hand tight against her jaw.

“We need to leave before someone finds us with her.” (y/n) said, shock in Tom’s eyes but he quickly followed her as she took his hand, and they left the lavatory. He took her to his room, since girls could go into boy’s dorms but never the reverse oddly enough; pulling her onto his bed and drawing the curtains, diary in hand and a muffling charm cast.

“From the beginning,” (y/n) offered when Tom looked lost on where to start explaining it all-he was in shock she was even responding the way she was. Tom took a breath, knees brushing against her thigh as he sat closer to her.

“I’ve been able to speak to snakes as long as I can remember, I grew up in an orphanage in London-so I had no clue of my origins, I only knew my name was my fathers and that my mother had died giving birth to me.” Tom began his story, (y/n) listening intently.

“I met Dumbledore the summer before my first year, his reaction when I told him I could speak to snakes only confirmed to me that it was a special skill-something not all wizards could do. I researched further in my first year, I thought my father was the wizard since I thought…I thought my mother was too weak since she had died-she couldn't be.” Tom took a deep breath, looking down when he realized (y/n) was holding his hand, he squeezed back gently.

“But I found my father was muggle-there’s no record of him here, two years ago, I finally was able to track down my mother's side. The Gaunt’s. The direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself. Through that I found out about the myth of the Chamber of secrets, I’ve been looking for it ever since-i found it, just a few months ago. I used it, the beast within-the king of serpents, the basilisk.”

“That’s why only muggleborns have been petrified.” (y/n) murmured and Tom nodded, not looking at her quite yet. “That’s what Salazar Slytherin's plan was for it, to purge the school of Muggleborns. I had wanted to prove my worth, to myself I suppose, to prove I was worthy of being his descendant.” Tom said, saying it all in nearly one breath, his shoulders dropping as he looked further away from her. “I suppose you think I’m mad, going to turn me in?”

She gently takes his face, turning it to look at her-to look at her smiling face. “Never.” She said softly, leaning in to kiss him. His eyes widened and then snapped shut, kissing her back fiercely, diary dropping onto the bed as he wrapped his arms around her, climbing on top of her as she fell back onto the bed with his weight pushing on her.

He pulled away, looking down at her as he breathed harshly. “not turning me in?” he asked roughly, her hand gently brushing against his cheek.

“if I must confess, it’s all fascinating, the chamber, the basilisk. You.” (y/n) murmured, her eyes closing and she laughed gently as Tom leaned down to pepper her face in kisses, grateful ones, oh what a perfect girl he’d found.

“What's your alibi?” (y/n) asked him, the two tangled together on the blankets of his bed, (y/n) flipping through his diary, reading everything he’d wrote. The basilisk, the chamber, her, his plans, his chosen name. Voldemort, in French it meant ‘flight from death’. He had confessed to her his fear of death; and his plan to create horcruxes-the first to be his diary.

Myrtle's death would be the catalyst to split his soul, of which he would have to make a special potion to actually take his soul out of his body and physically split it, and then put the split part into his diary. (y/n) of course offered to help, knowing such a procedure would be painful.

“Uh, I haven’t thought of one, it was sort’ve spur of the moment,” Tom admits into her neck, his arms wrapped around her, face buried in her shoulder-soaking up her warmth like a cat. (y/n) raised her brow, moving her head to look at him, he stubbornly hides his face in her neck still.

“You…murdered myrtle…on a whim?” (y/n) asked slowly and Tom huffed, looking up at her with a slight pout.

“When you say it like that.” He grumbled and (y/n) let out a soft snort, her shoulders shaking with a light laugh. “I sort’ve planned it, she was upset-I saw her go into the lavatory-where the chamber entrance is-I saw an opportunity, I took it.” (y/n) snorted again and Tom pinched her side, making her yelp/giggle.

“Don’t pinch me! Anyway! What is your alibi?...Do you even need one?” (y/n) asked again and Tom let out a small huff, resting her head on her shoulder again, looking at her profile as she kept reading his diary, smiling at the pages that were about her.

“I think Dumbledore would be my only suspector, as he is one of the few that know I can speak parseltongue, so he’d be the only one to worry about.” Tom murmured against her neck, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Did you have prefect route tonight?” (y/n) asks, closing the diary after arriving to the final written page, which was half about her and half about his plan for Myrtle. Tom shook his head against her neck. “mmm, then you could just say you were with me, hanging out in my common room, even though that’s technically against the rules, it's better than what you actually did.” (y/n) murmured, laying the diary on her stomach, her hand curling through Tom’s hair absentmindedly.

“You’re covering for me?” Tom murmured against her neck, arm wrapping around her waist, tugging at her side to pull her closer to him. (y/n) nodded, looking down at him, giving him a small smile.

“Well, yeah, you’d do the same for me? Wouldn’t you?” (y/n) asked softly and Tom surged up, pressing his lips to hers in a hard passionate kiss, pulling away for only a moment to say ‘yes’ before kissing her again, rolling on top of her, hooking his knee between her legs and grabbing her sides with his hands, pulling her body up towards his.

Myrtle’s body was found just before curfew; Olive Hornby had found her after being forced to go look for her since she was the reason Mrytle had run off to cry-only to be traumatized by finding Myrtle’s body and soon Aurors were at Hogwarts, rumors quickly spreading around the school about her death. Along with the possible closing of the school since there had been several petrification’s and one death. All unexplained.

Tom got unnerved at the thought of the school closing-taking (y/n) with him to head towards the 2nd floor, pausing at the 2nd flight of stairs in front of the great hall, watching as Aurors carried Myrtle's body down the stairs, her hand hanging pale and limp from the stretcher.

Tom watched, swallowing hard as Myrtle's body passed by him, he’d actually done it-he’d killed someone. “Riddle? Come.” Tom whirled around, Professor Dumbledore standing at the top of the stairs, waving Tom forward.

“Professor Dumbledore.” Tom said, tilting his chin up as he took (y/n)’s hand in his, bringing her up with him to stand before Dumbledore.

“It is not wise to be wandering this late hour Tom, especially when one has a young lady in their company.” Dumbledore said, glancing at (y/n) as she wrapped her arms around Tom’s arm, his hand tight in hers.

“Yes professor,” Tom said, clearing his throat, standing with his back expression controlled to show exactly what emotions he wanted to show, respect and concern. “I suppose i-I had to see for myself if the rumors were true.”

“I’m afraid they are Tom, they are true.” Dumbledore said, Tom raising his brows in worry, clutching (y/n)’s hand tight in his. “about the school as well? I don’t have a home to go to. They wouldn’t really close down Hogwarts, would they, professor?”

Dumbledore looked down at Tom, studying him intently, Tom’s hand squeezed (y/n)’s, she squeezed back. “I understand Tom, but I’m afraid; headmaster Dippet may have no choice.”

Tom’s voice became a bit more desperate-vulnerable, this being an uncontrolled reaction-he couldn't have the school close-he couldn't bear going back to the orphanage so soon. “Sir, if it all stopped; if the person responsible was caught…” (y/n) squeezed Tom’s hand to calm him, knowing he was showing too much, since Dumbledore gave Tom an odd look-one of knowing but having no proof.

“Is there something you wish to tell me, Tom?” Dumbledore asked calmly, studying Tom intently. Tom blinked himself out of his stupor, raining his emotions back in.

“No sir, nothing.” Tom said, swallowing harshly as Dumbledore studied him for a moment longer, and then (y/n), but she only stared back, unperturbed.

“Very well then, off you both go. Make sure Ms. (y/n) returns to her house safe and sound Tom.” Tom nodded, of course he would-he bid the professor goodnight, taking (y/n) up the stairs and towards the changing staircases, leaving her at the bottom.

“I have to go, go to your room, I’ll see you in the morning.” Tom murmured, kissing her forehead and he strode off into the dark corridors, (y/n) staying at the bottom of the moving staircases for a moment before beginning her climb up to Ravenclaw tower.

Tom quickly framed Rubeus Hagrid for the attacks, since the boy had always had an affinity for monstrous creatures and had a habit of sneaking them into the school-the ‘monster’ blamed for the attacks being an Acromantula, a deadly giant spider.

Coincidently, their venom could paralyze people, and if there was enough in the system, it could kill. Tom had the perfect scapegoat-and it worked like a charm. He turned Hagrid in, got a reward for saving Hogwarts, and was praised to high heaven by all the professors for his bravado.

Only (y/n) and Tom knew the truth-with Dumbledore suspecting Tom but having no proof to accuse him.

Soon it was the last week of school-and during this time (y/n) helped Tom make the potion that would allow him to make his first horcrux. (y/n) stood in front of the sinks that were the entrance to the chamber, Tom standing next to her-having just opened it. The sinks detached from their spots, revealing the tunnel and Tom took her into his arms, holding her as they slid down the tunnel tot eh depths below the castle.

He held her hand the whole way though the pipes-animal bones covering everything. Soon it turned to a cavern-getting closer to the true entrance to the chamber. They stopped before a set of double doors that were guarded by two metal snakes with emeralds for eyes. “Aaaheeshaasha.” Tom spoke in his low voice, his voice quivering like a serpent’s hiss. The snakes eyes glowed, and moved, becoming hinges to the doors and they swung open-revealing the legendary chamber of secrets.

“Oh wow,” (y/n) breathed, her hands on Tom’s shoulders as he lowered her into the chamber-the steps long since eroded from time so it was a straight drop from the doors to the main corridor. It was one massive room-with pillars lining the path that had snakes curling up them, and a massive statue of Salazar himself at the back, a stone basilisk curling up behind him-its stone eyes locked onto the doors. “its…strangely beautiful.”

Tom looked at her with pride, squeezing her hand as they walked deeper into the chamber. There was a smaller chamber to the right of the statue-an old library, ransacked with only a few books left inside. Tom said a previous member of the Gaunt’s must’ve stolen the books, feeling Hogwarts unworthy of Salazar's knowledge.

(y/n) put down her bag, reaching into it-having used an undetectable extension charm, and pulling out all the potion ingredients, including the cauldron. She and Tom got to work making the potion that would allow him to split his soul and put it in his diary, the diary resting in his pocket.

After an hour of potion making-the pitch black potion was ready. It looked like a black hole, there wasn’t even any shine to it. “It looks ready,” (y/n) murmured, sitting next to Tom. She turned off the burner, going to cast a cooling charm on the potion but Tom rolled his sleeves up and stuck his hands straight into the potion-(y/n) gasping and grabbing his shoulder as he hissed, face clenching in pain.

He pulled his hands out-they looked pure black, like a void. “Tom,” she said softly, holding his shoulder as he moved his hands to his chest, he paused as his fingers passed through his skin-blood beginning to soak his shirt. She grabbed him tightly, burying her face against his back as he took several breaths-pushing his hands deeper, a rasp of pain escaping him.

She couldn’t bear to watch, hearing his painful gasps for breath, blood soaking his shirt-hot and wet. A soft glow caught her attention, and she pulled her head up, seeing his soul in his hands-blood and the void-like potion dripping down his hands. He took a long breath, and clenched his hands-his soul snapping in half and he hunched forward, dry heaving. “Tom,” she said, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her head to his. He shook his head, hands shaking as he put one half of his soul back inside him-the other half still in his hand.

She grabbed his diary from his robe pocket that had been discarded halfway through making the potion, holding it out for him. He gave her a small weak nod, looking exhausted and sick-he put his split soul up to his diary and it absorbed into the diary.

The diary felt alive in her hands now, the cold leather warming quickly in her palms and she quickly set it down on her lap-snatching up her wand and cleaning Tom’s arms and hands of the potion and his blood. He heaved again-she dumped the potion out from the cauldron and put it in front of him-he threw up into the cauldron, blood mixing with his bile.

“I feel like I got hit by a troll.” Tom said, drool dripping from his chin-he looked sick, face pale and flushed with fever.

“You look it,” (y/n) said softly, kissing his temple and he heavily leaned into her, his whole body shivering as she wrapped her arms around him-ignoring the wetness of his blood on his shirt. She held him for what felt like hours, just holding him close as he shivered, dry heaving and aching all over.

Eventually, she got him on his feet, vanishing the evidence of the potion and Horcrux creation with a wave of her wand. He leaned heavily on her as they left the chamber of secrets, he held his diary close to him-it was the only way he felt less sick.

Soon she was helping him out of the tunnel into the girls lavatory-no one went in here now, too scared of what happened to Myrtle. “Are you okay?” (y/n) asked Tom and he got to his feet, shaking still-pale and sick. He threw up into a sink, panting wetly as (y/n) rubbed his back, leaning carefully into him as he shook, arms weak and trembling as he hovered over the sink.

They spent time in the bathroom before finally moving on, (y/n) helping Tom to his room, thankfully going downstairs was way easier than going upstairs. “Jurisdiction,” (y/n) said upon arriving at the Slytherin common room door and it opened for her, Tom huffing in amusement, she’d remembered the password. She helped him into the common room and to his dorm, carefully laying him down on his bed-taking off his shirt to clean it and then going to get a few washcloths, soaking them in cold water to put them against his flushed face and neck.

“Cold-“ he groaned, his eyes unfocused, grasping her hand as she patted the cloth against his face.

“I know, but you have a fever,” she said softly and Tom groaned again, closing his eyes and letting her help him as she cooled down his skin with the cold washcloth, soon getting him tucked into bed after cleaning him up-of course after helping him change out of his bloody/potion soaked clothes.

She laid next to him-he quickly reached out to her to tug her into him, soaking up her body heat as she gently rested his diary-his horcrux-in the bedside table drawer, making sure it was locked before she drew the curtains, curling up beside Tom-who thankfully fell asleep against her, shivering the whole time.

It took Tom a few days to recover from making his horcrux, thankfully before the end of the school year, so he didn’t need help packing as everyone prepared to go ‘home’ for the summer. “you live at an orphanage right?” (y/n) asked him softly, sitting on his bed as he packed up his uniforms. He nodded, not looking like he wanted to talk about it. “which one?” Tom glanced up at her, swallowing harshly, looking at his diary in her lap, she was thumbing the spine softly-treating it like a true extension of him.

He had decided to let her keep it, to trust her to keep it safe. “Wools orphanage” Tom eventually answered, turning back to fold his socks into his trunk. “in London.”

“Oh, that’s closer to me than I thought,” (y/n) said brightly, Tom looking up at her with his brow raised, having a feeling he knew what she was getting at.

“is that an invitation?” he drawled, hiding his smile as she nodded, scooting to get closer to him.

“It very much is. My parents want to meet you anyway, and with your charm, I'm sure you could get a night or two at my house.” (y/n) said, slightly teasing him. Tom huffed with amusement, leaning over to kiss her softly. She happily leaned into it, the diary tucked against her stomach.

“I think I’ll take you up on that love,” he murmured, (y/n)’s smile growing wider, leaning back to let him finish packing-though now he wasn’t as solemn about it.

-end-

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #harry potter fanfiction #fluff fic #chamber of secrets #no smut #lotta fluff #Tom gets really sick after making his horcrux #horcrux making #indepth #reader is also kinda fucked up cuz she does not react normally to Tom killing myrtle and she even reads his diary with all his plans and #doesnt run #yeah i think this counts for 'helping Tom become a dark lord'#6th year

500 notes · View notes

bestofmultiverse · 4 months ago

Text

Between the pages

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

"People think that intimacy is about sex. But intimacy is about truth. When you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can show yourself to them, when you stand in front of them bare and their response is 'you're safe with me'- that's intimacy."

- Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling she might be hallucinating.

One drink had turned into three, and it wasn’t even 9 p.m. yet. She’d slipped away from her friends at the bar near her office, brushing off their nagging with a vague excuse. Her first instinct had been to stumble into the little bookstore around the corner—a place she’d been meaning to check out since she started her job at the publishing house.

Half an hour later, she was wandering the aisles, muttering sarcastic comments under her breath about the uninspired titles her boss had decided to publish. That’s when she noticed someone standing nearby: a tall brunette who was watching her with an amused smile, eyes sparkling as if she’d overheard every word.

Something about this woman seemed familiar, but in her tipsy haze, y/n couldn’t quite place why. She was fairly certain they hadn’t hooked up before… probably. She figured she’d remember someone with a face like that.

The brunette noticed her staring and grinned. “That book’s terrible,” she said, gesturing to the one in y/n’s hand.

“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it. The author’s an ass, too,” y/n replied without thinking, the alcohol giving her a boldness she usually lacked.

The woman laughed, a sound that was low and warm. “Sounds like you’ve got stories.”

“Not to be weird, but… do we know each other?” y/n asked, squinting as if that might help her remember.

The brunette chuckled. “I just have one of those faces. Don’t sweat it, baby.”

The pet name made y/n’s heart skip a beat. This woman was gorgeous, and her presence was disarming. Not to mention, y/n was tipsy in a bookstore—probably not the best state to be meeting someone like this.

The woman nodded toward the shelves. “Got any recommendations? You look like someone who knows good books.”

Y/n smirked, feeling a little more at ease. “Well, now you sound like my boss.” She glanced at the shelves. “What are you looking for? A certain genre?”

The brunette’s gaze lingered on her a moment longer than expected. “Something captivating. Sapphic.”

Her smirk didn’t go unnoticed, and y/n felt her cheeks warm. “Evelyn Hugo, then,” she managed, trying not to sound flustered.

The woman picked up the book, barely glancing at the cover. “Good enough for me,” she said with a grin.

“You’re not even going to read the back?” y/n asked, amused.

“Nope.” The brunette’s lips popped on the ‘p,’ and y/n’s eyes lingered there for a second too long.

The woman’s gaze didn’t waver. “Want to grab a bite and tell me about it?”

A short while later, they were seated in a booth at y/n’s favorite low-key bar.

“So you really don’t recognize me?” the woman asked, a teasing glint in her eye.

Y/n stammered, laughing nervously. “Should I?”

The woman chuckled. “Relax. We haven’t hooked up or anything like that.”

“Oh,” y/n replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“I’m an actress,” the woman explained with a smirk, watching y/n’s face as recognition started to dawn.

“Oh… oh my god,” y/n breathed, eyes wide. “You’re Aubrey Plaza.”

Aubrey smiled, raising an eyebrow. “Yep. You finally got there.”

“I am so sorry. I’m just… a little starstruck,” y/n admitted, cheeks burning.

“It’s cute,” Aubrey said with a shrug. “So… you’re a Marvel fan?”

Y/n laughed. “Guilty. Also a dumbass, apparently.”

Aubrey leaned back, amused. “Maybe, but it’s working for you.”

A blush stole over y/n’s face, and she changed the subject before Aubrey could tease her any further. “So, what are you drinking?” she asked.

Aubrey considered for a moment. “An Old Fashioned, I think.”

Y/n nodded and called over the waitress, who looked mildly amused as she took their order, including a pepperoni pizza to share. As the waitress walked away, Aubrey observed, “She seems to know you well.”

“Yeah, she’s used to my friends coming in here every other day,” y/n explained.

Conversation flowed easily, becoming more relaxed with each passing minute. Y/n found herself laughing at Aubrey’s dry humor, and as her initial anxiety faded, she realized she genuinely enjoyed Aubrey’s company. Hours flew by, and as midnight approached, they decided on a late-night walk in the nearby park.

Bundled up against the night chill, their cheeks flushed from the drinks, they walked side by side, laughing about random topics and sharing stories. Eventually, they called a cab, squeezing into the back seat, Aubrey’s arm casually resting around y/n’s shoulder.

At y/n’s door, she hesitated, nerves starting to creep back in. Aubrey seemed to notice and gave her a soft smile.

“I can feel you overthinking from here. Relax,” she teased, sinking into the couch as soon as they walked in.

Y/n laughed, joining her. Aubrey pulled out the book she’d bought. “Wanna read it together?”

Y/n grinned. “I’ll make us some tea.”

They settled into the couch, Aubrey reading aloud while y/n curled up beside her, head resting in Aubrey’s lap. There was a quiet, comfortable intimacy between them that didn’t need words. Aubrey’s fingers absentmindedly played with y/n’s hair as she read the love story of Evelyn Hugo, and gradually, both of them drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Part 2 • part 3 • 4 • 5

#i did a thing #aubrey plaza #sapphic #rio vidal #aubrey plaza x reader #rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agatha x rio

793 notes · View notes

bucketbueckers · 3 months ago

Text

ACCOUNTING

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader

wc: 2.8k

synopsis: You're watching KK and the rest of the team fool around on live when Azzi walks in asking for an accounting tutor. Deciding to humor it, you're surprised to find that Azzi was completely serious, and even more surprised when your offer leads to something more between the two of you.

notes: in honor of azzi fudd hoops last night - i was supposed to have this up before the game but i forgot i had a three hour lab and unfortunately i will not write fanfiction in the middle of the university food court. first tumblr post, lmk if we're rockin w it 🙂‍↕️

You’re settling into bed to unwind for the night when you get the TikTok notification.

KK Arnold has gone live!

For the better part of your day, you’ve had your nose in the books, trying to get ahead of your weekly homework. You have a terrible habit of letting most of it pile up during the week and finishing it all over the weekend. As an accounting major, you didn’t really have fun weekend plans, anyway, but it would be nice to lay in bed all day and not worry about something that was due at 11:59. You only had three classes today: managerial accounting, intro to auditing, and intermediate accounting. It wasn’t a rigorous schedule by any means; you were done and out of classes by lunchtime, but after two and a half hours of listening to your professors drone on, you were ready for the nap you couldn’t afford to take due to your piles of homework.

Seeing the live notification is enough to remind you that you aren’t really that tired, so you click on it. KK’s face fills the screen and she’s unboxing Crumbl cookies. You say a silent prayer for the girls – Crumbl tasted terrible and that was a hill you were willing to die on. Paige sat behind KK, with Ayanna, Jana, Kayla, and a few other players milling about off-camera. For a painful few minutes, KK tries her best to get everyone’s attention so she can narrate about whatever monstrosity of a cookie they’re eating, but everyone’s laughing too hard to fully lock in.

Ayanna leaves to get a knife so KK can cut the cookies evenly. KK entertains the live while Ayanna is away, singing, chatting, and interacting with commenters. When Ayanna finally returns, she has the knife, but Azzi also trails behind her - a fact that the live is definitely appreciative of. “Oh, my God, look who it is!” KK intones in a shrill voice, much to Azzi’s clear bewilderment. You’ve never seen an expression of such confusion on someone’s face before. “It’s Azzi Fudd!”

Azzi buries her face in her hands and moves off-camera as everyone laughs. KK’s voice softens as she asks, “Azzi, wanna try a cookie?”

“No,” Azzi whines.

KK’s entire expression shifts, and admittedly, yours does, too. It’s no secret that Azzi was almost nationally known as the people’s princess. Perhaps you’d have to fight someone. You hope that no one’s actually done something wrong to her – first of all, you can’t even fathom the idea. It’d be like kicking a puppy. Second of all, you were just someone, along with 13,000 other viewers, watching the team interact behind a screen. You were sure that Azzi’s team would handle business, although you were willing to step in if needed, too, even if you stood a solid six inches shorter than Azzi herself. “What happened?” KK asks. Paige echoes her question.

“Ask the live if anyone can tutor me in accounting,” Azzi says forlornly.

You don’t think she’s serious until KK turns back just in time for the cowboy hat to return. “Hey, y’all! Is there anybody who’s really good at accounting for Azzi Fudd? Please send help. If you do have someone who’s really good at accounting, please DM me at k2times TikTok or at kamoreaarnold Instagram or at azzifudd Instagram! Thank yew.” The room dissolves into giggles as KK continues, “And if you DM me with edits or anything else but accounting help, I will block! Thank yew.”

You have the time today, so you switch over to Instagram as the live continues in the background, and you go to Azzi’s page and hit the Message option. You doubt she’ll see it, let alone respond, but as an accounting major, it’s basically your civic duty to help those in need, especially since you know these classes are hell.

hey do u actually need accounting help? i major in it!

Satisfied, you click back over to the live just in time for Azzi to comment, “KK, I might actually have a tutor,” she says in near disbelief. You think nothing of it as KK turns her head, humming at Azzi. “Wait, I think she’s in my class.”

That manages to catch your attention. Sure, you’re watching a live with a couple thousand people on it, but how many of those people are accounting students at UConn who happen to share a class with Azzi Fudd?

An Instagram notification pops up on your screen as Paige leaves the camera frame to most likely peer over Azzi’s shoulder. You’re shocked again to see Azzi has DM’ed you back.

Yes please this homework is killing me Are you in ACCT3201 with Cansler??? I recognize you

Discovering just how unobservant you are should not come as a great surprise. Apparently, you’ve been sharing a class with Azzi Fudd this entire semester and you didn’t even realize it. This is easily the most embarrassing moment of your entire life.

i am i can’t believe i didn’t know u were in it i’m a lot better at accounting than i am at paying attention, i promise

This draws a giggle from Azzi that you can hear over the live. It makes a flush rise on your cheeks. The fact that Azzi Fudd knows who you are combined with the fact she’s laughing at your jokes is enough for a feeling of anticipation to twist in your chest. This is your life now, apparently.

“Azzi is cheesing so bad,” KK teases. You can’t help but feel a little pride at that. “Who’s chatting her up right now? Lemme invite you. Accounting rizz is insane work.”

“Don’t scare away my tutor,” Azzi grumbles, coming back into view of the camera. True to KK’s words, a faint blush has settled on her cheeks. Feeling far too smug, you comment on the live, ‘calling it rizz is crazy, i’m just helping the people.’ Azzi’s eyes scan the screen before rolling slightly. “Look at what you did, KK.”

“Is that her?” KK shrieks. She leans in closer to the screen, blocking out much of the background. “Oh, she fine. Lock in, Azzi; she can help you with more than accounting.”

At that, you and Azzi both blush a deep scarlet red and Azzi turns on her heel. “Goodbye, KK!” The room dissolves into rambunctious laughter as Azzi walks out, calling, “I’m going to finish my homework!”

A moment passes before Azzi messages you again.

I’m so sorry about KK, she’s feral

You swipe away from the live again, grinning slightly. In your DMs, the typing bubbles appear for a few short moment. You heart her most recent message in the meantime.

Will you please help me? I genuinely don’t understand what I’m doing wrong

Yes, you’ve spent most of the day in classes and doing homework. Yes, you’re tired. Yes, you really only joined the live to unwind. But when Azzi asks for help, you can’t really say no to her.

of course, are u working on this week’s homework set?

Her affirmative response is swift, telling you what she’s having trouble with. Your fingers hesitate on your screen, trying to figure out how to put your thoughts into words before settling.

i know this is incredibly forward but would u want to ft? i can explain better verbally

Azzi sends you her number. After tonight’s events, you really shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but you can’t help it. Azzi is a nationally (and internationally) recognized college basketball player and, until now, you were just a girl who watched her team’s TikTok lives and cheered in the student section. Azzi had seemed so untouchable, by virtue of her celebrity and your lack thereof; it’s hard to believe you’re this close to her now, even if it’s just to help her with accounting homework.

The two of you talk well into the night, even hours after Azzi submits her problem sets successfully and she understands the material. You feel like you get to see a side of her so rarely seen by other people who aren’t her teammates. She’s softer, with a beaming smile on her face when she finally understands a difficult concept. There’s something so alluring about the way she speaks that you can’t help but listen to every single thing that comes out of her mouth, ranging from her frustrated rants to the smoothness of her giggle. The lamplight reflects off of the lenses of the glasses perched on her nose and you think she’s so incredibly beautiful – bare-faced and slightly delirious from staying up so late.

When the two of you finally hang up half past three, you can’t wipe the smile off your face, and somehow, you just know that this is the start of something new.

From then on, your friendship with Azzi all but flourishes. She’s incredibly sweet, soft-spoken, and so deliberate in the way she moves and speaks to you. When your next accounting class rolls around, she finds the seat next to yours, asking to sit there with an almost shy expression. When there’s lulls in the lecture, you entertain her with jokes, drawing red-cheeked giggles that she has to stifle. You’re almost like her personal TA, sitting next to her and clarifying concepts that she doesn’t understand. It helps you, too; the best study advice you’d ever received was to teach it to someone else.

Your friendship progresses outside of the lecture room and outside of your texts. You both spend a lot of time in the library, studying in peace together or enjoying lunch in each other's company. You always thought Azzi was gorgeous, but now that you know her on a far more personal level, falling for her was a near guarantee. The far-away admiration transformed into something pure, genuine. You couldn’t imagine Azzi returning those feelings — she’s far too busy, too committed to ball — so you keep your rapidly growing crush close to your chest.

You’ve always showed up to the UConn games, though there’s something distinctly different about them now. Azzi was never one for grand celebrations or trash talk in the way Paige was. She was intentional and lowkey, which is why you feel like you could float when she makes direct eye contact with you in the student section, throwing up three fingers to celebrate a particularly deep three. It’s why you cheese when she finds you after the game, after she’s showered and changed, and asks if you want to get ice cream with her. The better question was how could you refuse?

Azzi deliberates between vanilla and cookie dough for a long while before settling on the latter. Even as the clerk fills her bowl, she stares at the the vanilla and your choice of ice cream becomes obvious. Azzi stares at you as the clerk fills your bowl with vanilla. “What? It’s my favorite flavor,” you lie, and her lips quirk up as she studies you.

“Said literally no one ever,” she says wryly. The clerk hands you the bowl and Azzi swipes her card before you have the chance to even contemplate otherwise. When you stare at her in disbelief, her smile widens and all fight leaves your body. What were you supposed to do about that? You were a puddle for pretty women — a puddle for Azzi, honestly — and your resolve should be commended for maintaining months of friendship with Azzi.

The two of you find a secluded booth towards the back of the ice cream shop. Azzi shares her midterm grade — a solid 100, and you whistle lowly. “I got an 89,” you say, not hurt by it at all. As long as it was above an 80, you could care less. “You sure you still need me?”

Azzi swirls her ice cream around her bowl, suddenly quiet. The realization dawns on you immediately. Your words were meant to be a joke, but the truth to them stuns you. You really hoped Azzi would say, ‘of course not, it’s not like that!’ but her silence keeps you guessing.

“I have a confession to make,” she says after a beat, finally glancing up at you. The vulnerability and nervousness makes your heart fall out of your ass. “Promise it won’t make anything weird?”

You open your mouth just to close it again. You clear your throat. “Promise, Az,” you say finally. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” she says quickly. “Um, so here’s the thing. I struggled a lot with the first problem set. You know, the one I needed the tutor for?” You nod, confused by her words. “You helped a lot. And, like, I haven’t really needed actual tutoring in weeks. I just really liked spending time with you.” You blink at her. She stares at you right back, brows furrowed with guilt and her doe eyes wide. “I’m sorry. You must feel like I wasted your time.”

At that, you can’t help but laugh, and Azzi pouts. “Az. I thought you were about to dump me,” you explain. “Plus, I kinda figured after a while we were just like, studying together, and not me actually tutoring.”

She sighs, burying her face in her hands. You laugh again, pushing your leftover ice cream towards her. Azzi glances up again, her eyes soft and fond. “I guess I just wanted an excuse for you to stick around.”

“You never needed one,” you tell her honestly, and a blush creeps up her neck.

“You’re not really picking up what I’m putting down, are you?”

Her words almost make you recoil. It’s no secret at this point that you can be a little oblivious, but her words make your heart skip a beat. “Az, I have no idea what you’re putting down,” you admit.

“So, I just admitted to you that I liked spending time with you and lied about needing study help just so I’d have an excuse to hang out with you,” Azzi confirms. “We are sitting here, alone, after a game while my teammates celebrate at Ted’s. All of that, and you have no idea what I’m putting down?”

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” you say smartly.

“Yeah.”

“So, you like me?” you ask just to be one hundred percent sure.

She smiles at you. You’re certain your heart almost stops beating. “How could I not?” she asks like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “You make me laugh. You’re always so patient with me, you make me feel seen — like I can just be myself. It’s… hard to find something genuine like this. You don’t expect anything from me.”

“I just want you to be happy,” you say simply.

Her eyes confirm everything for you. You’re not observant, sure, but your main priority has always been what was directly in front of you. And right now, it’s hard to focus on anything that’s not Azzi. Azzi’s eyes are so soft, kinder than anything you’ve ever seen before. They hold so much understanding but there’s also a silent plea of let this be mutual that you’re too happy to give into.

“I’ve been falling for you for a while,” you admit, and her face brightens. Your shoulders feel lighter; carrying around your feelings has burdened you, but if it’s the price you had to pay to make sure Azzi felt comfortable and that she could have friendships without people taking advantage of her celebrity, then so be it. You’d bear a lot more for her if it ever came down to it. “I kept it to myself for a while,” you continued. “You deserve normal. A friendship without expectations. But, God, Az, how could anyone not fall for you?”

Azzi’s cheeks flush a pretty red. You can’t help but smile at her, growing a little braver, and you slide your hand across the table. She wastes no time before intertwining your fingers together, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

She walks you home that night, refusing to let go of you until you’re halfway through your doorstep. She stops you; her height would be intimidating if you didn’t know she was the sweetest person to ever walk the earth. “Can I…” She trails off, her hands gentle on your waist.

You don’t need much more convincing — you loop your arms around her neck and tug her down to your height, planting your lips on hers with a softness that she eagerly reciprocates. You can taste the vanilla on her lips, the sweetness of the cookie dough, and the promise of something distinctly reminiscent of Azzi Fudd. You’re suddenly thankful for KK’s stupid live, for Crumbl cookie, for the accounting class you shared together. It’s all led you to where you are now, in Azzi’s arms outside of your apartment, overcome with the knowledge that all of this is so new, but you have everything you could have possibly wanted.

(You ask her to officially be your girlfriend two weeks after that, having been on three dates since — it’s only after you pop the question and the two of you are settling in to watch a movie that she admits to you the real reason she was struggling so bad with the problem sets was because she’d spend entire lecture periods staring at you. You roll your eyes, feeling inexplicably cared for in a way you haven’t experienced before Azzi, and your only true response to her confession is the lingering kiss you place on her lips.)

#azzi fudd #uconn wbb #uconn x reader #wbb #wbb x reader #ncaa wbb #uconn #azzi fudd fic #azzi fudd x reader

428 notes · View notes

illbegottenfaith · 3 months ago

Text

lucky pt 3 - theo nott x reader

Theo doesn’t seem to care about you, and you can only lie to yourself that it doesn’t bother you for so long

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n - the final part! so happy to finally write a happy ending :’) wasn’t planning on writing this until my finals were over but um here we are 🙈

tropes/warnings - tw smoking, a lil slapstick comedy ft the other slytherin boys, slight platonic hurt/comfort, angst, soft ‘smut’ (quite mild idt it warrants an 18+ tag)

word count - 3.4k

Two can play a game.

A week had passed since you submitted your Potions project, and after that one night of Theo staying up to help you, things went back to going from bad to worse. What were once paltry tiffs had now disappeared altogether. Theo attended and left lessons as if you didn’t exist. And you supposed you didn’t. At least, not to him.

Ivy worried over you, bless her. She’d noticed how listless and distracted you’d gotten, how much more prone you were to staying holed up in your room, how exhausted you seemed by the most mundane tasks. But this was something even she couldn’t help with. No one could help, you decided mournfully, resting your head against your dorm’s cool window pane. So here you were, staring out the window at 6.30 am on a Monday morning with irritated and aching eyes after a restless night of tossing and turning.

That was when you decided that the only thing there was to be done in a situation like this was to do what you did best - going head-to-head with Theodore Nott. He wasn’t the only one who could play at being emotionally avoidant, and it would be a cold day in hell before you let Theodore Nott best you in anything, including this.

And ignore him you did. You didn’t know or care if he noticed, but soon your already limited interactions became highly unabsorbing and apathetic. You barely acknowledged him in your shared classes. You matched every careless toss of his head with one of your own. As little as Theo cared, you could care even less.

Finals came and went. The morning after your last paper Ivy came barging into your room, demanding you come for an end-of-semester gathering by the Great Lake the next day. No amount of begging or burying your head in your pillow seemed to deter her. She was determined to see you there even if she had to drag you out herself, the recluse that you had become. She finally left after you very unsportingly relented and unsuccessfully tossed a book at her head.

You were already regretting being worn down by the next morning when you were deciding what to wear. Was Theo going to be there? Not that it mattered. You weren't about to pick an outfit around a guy who may or may not be present.

You met Ivy and Katie near the castle entrance and once you started walking down to the lake, you started feeling better about your decision. The weather was surprisingly cooperative and it was perfect picnic weather, if a little windy. It was a little early, only shortly after breakfast, and the refreshments were still being set up. From the few that had already arrived, it seemed to be a rather intimate gathering of mostly familiar faces. If you were especially lucky, Theodore Nott might not make an appearance at all.

You watched a group of Slytherin boys flail and struggle to set up a folding picnic table and put a sheet over it. Enzo Berkshire had flopped onto the table to stop the sheet from flying off while the table groaned underneath his weight. Draco Malfoy was crossly telling him off and trying to get him to stand while Mattheo Riddle stood a little to the side, still frowning over the table's instructions. Draco had now moved onto threats when there was a terrible creaking sound and the table collapsed under Enzo.

"I was just about to say," Matheo started offhandedly, while Enzo moaned pitifully, "I don't think we put the table together right."

"I told you we should have waited for Theo."

Speak of the devil.

“Ladies,” Theo drawled from behind, in his appealingly lazy accent. You turned to see Theodore in a relaxed button-down folded at the elbow, wearing a simple but likely designer pair of black sunglasses, holding a red solo cup. You instinctively glanced at his tanned forearms before snapping your gaze back to his face. Did he notice? It was hard to tell with the sunglasses.

“Hi, Theo,” Ivy said awkwardly when you stubbornly refused to respond. “What's that you got there?”

"Punch. Enzo had me taste test it."

"Oh. Is it good?"

He gave a wry smile. You wanted to roll your eyes. You had no patience to tolerate his irritating posh affectations.

"A little strong for my taste, but it'll do."

"Have you seen Ivan?"

He waved his hand carelessly. “He’s…around.” He turned, peering in the distance. “Right. There he is, by the steps. He’s bringing the drinks.”

“I’ll go help him!” Before you could reel Ivy back in and threaten her to stay with you, she was already halfway down the path, heading straight for her boyfriend. You scowled, your impassive mask shattering. You turned back to see Theo grinning at you with his stupidly mysterious sunglasses and you shot him a dirty look.

“Nice weather we’re having, hm?”

You schooled your features and shrugged noncommittally. The silence stretched unbearably between the two of you. Theo vaguely gestured to the boys with his cup.

“I should help them with the table."

You stayed tight-lipped, refusing to give in to the sense of camaraderie he seemed to be trying to foster with you. After all, you weren't friends. He made sure of that.

As he set his cup down and started looking over the instructions with Mattheo, Ivy returned, drinks and Ivan in tow.

“Punch?”

You raised your eyebrows. Even from a distance, the bowl reeked of booze. Still, you accepted a cup, downing it even as your eyes watered. You pulled a face.

“Merlin, that’s awful. Pour me another.”

You ended up sitting in a cluster of lawn chairs around a picnic blanket with Ivy, Katie and some other girls in your year. You were all giddily tipsy and in very silly moods, gossiping and swapping terrible first date stories.

The drunker and drunker you got, the harder it was to pull your eyes away from Theo. After all, as your inhibitions dissolved, what was there to stop you from glaring a hole into his skull?

Not that he noticed. He was sitting some distance away with his own friends, examining the bottom of his red Solo cup disinterestedly. The other Slytherin boys were absorbed in a spirited game of Exploding Snap. In the unassuming midday sun creeping up on them, he was a refreshing sight, sleek and cool in ways mere mortals could only dream of wishing for.

You scoffed under your breath. What, were his childhood friends too boring for him? Was that it? Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? You had half a mind to strip naked and run into the lake. Maybe that would finally be captivating enough for the oh-so-hard-to-impress Theodore Nott.

How many other girls did he help write essays for late into the night, letting them doze, holding their hand? You shook yourself. He never held your hand. He helped you with your project, brought you breakfast, and that was it. Still, your gaze stayed fixed on the back of your hand. Whatever possessed you to think he held your hand?

The sky had gotten a little cloudy. Theo pulled off his sunglasses, blinking, and cast his eyes around, looking for a place to put them. Finally, he settled on hooking them on the open collar of his shirt and looked rather pleased with himself. It was almost endearing.

Your gut told you to avert your gaze, but you didn't, and the next second his gaze was on you. For the first time in weeks, his eyes met yours, intense and unforgiving. You told yourself it was just his gaunt complexion and bruise-like eyebags, but that didn’t stop your throat from seizing with some inexplicable want. Even when he moved away to rejoin his friends, your skin tingled; your body positively thrummed with it. Any hope of playing at sanity was out the window at this point. No, you just had to accept that the two of you would always be unfinished business.

But that was it - he wasn’t playing at this like you were. This was all a pretence for you; the unaffected stares, the nonchalant nods, the afterthought smiles. This was all just you pretending you weren’t watching his every move. Pretending your attention wouldn’t stay fixed on him in a room full of burning bodies.

But he wasn’t pretending. Not for one second.

All of a sudden, you felt queasy. You were going to be sick.

"Y/N?" Ivy was saying, looking concerned as you unsteadily got to your feet. You could feel the back of your neck prickling with Theo still watching you.

"I'm - I'm fine," you slurred, fanning yourself weakly. "Stay - I'm okay. Just...s'hot. Need to -"

You put your cup down somewhere, stumbling back to the castle as fast as you could, your head spinning as the ground wobbled dangerously under you. You weren't sure how but you somehow made it to your dorm, flung open the bathroom door and reached the toilet just as your stomach started emptying its contents.

You vaguely registered that you had never been this drunk - it felt like you were slipping in and out of consciousness. You were only distantly aware of a familiar pair of hands holding your hair back, rubbing soothing circles on your back as you heaved. It was a cathartic kind of release, a purging of all the toxic anxiety that had been festering inside of you. And just like that, a dam broke. You started crying, sobbing like the world was ending, slumped against your best friend.

“Oh, Y/N…”

“I don’t understand,” you choked out, leaning your forehead against the tiled bathroom wall. “Why doesn’t he like me anymore? Why does he h-hate me?”

Ivy delicately smoothed some of your unruly hair down. “He doesn’t hate you, honey.”

“I’m not a k-kid, Ivy," you hiccuped. "You don’t have to lie to protect my feelings.”

Ivy hugged you close as you sniffled. “I’m going to kill that asshole if Ivan doesn’t beat me to it.”

“No,” you said in a shaky voice, gingerly sitting up. “Promise me you won’t tell Ivan.”

“Y/N - “

“They’re friends! I don’t want to spoil that for him.”

“Trust me, if he knew what Theo was doing, he wouldn’t be feeling all that friendly.”

“Don’t, Ivy,” you pleaded. “This is just…it’s just between us. I’m fine, I swear.”

Ivy looked highly unconvinced. You let out a frustrated sigh.

“Look, at least give me a week to work through this on my own, alright? Then you can sic your boyfriend on Nott.”

“You’ve already had your week. Weeks, in fact.”

“Ivy.”

She pursed her lips. “Fine.”

You felt a lot more sober after throwing up. But you still weren't feeling up to returning to the party, so once you finally managed to shake Ivy off, you wandered the deserted halls of Hogwarts. Just like that one evening lifetimes ago, when Mattheo had insinuated Theo might have a thing for you in the library, you ended up at the Astronomy Tower.

It was peaceful. You could see why Theo liked to come up here to think. You looked up as you heard a scuffling sound from behind one of the pillars, near one of the stone arch windowsills. You walked over to find Theo sitting there, smoking, his long legs barely fitting across the length of the window. He didn't expect to see you either, if the way the cigarette was dangling from his lips was any indication.

“Put that out.”

It was the first thing you had said to him in weeks. You felt almost as surprised as he looked. He started, as if he had forgotten about the cigarette, and took another puff.

“I said,” you started again, half-heartedly raising your voice, “put that out.”

It was weak and unsurprisingly ineffective. If Theo picked up on what it truly was, a plea for normalcy, he didn’t let on.

Your already thin patience snapped. You stalked over, stealing the cigarette from his lax fingers. What you weren't expecting was Theo's fingers closing around your other wrist and firmly pulling you down to press his mouth hard against yours. It was a clumsy mess of teeth and tongues as you ungracefully reached for his arms to steady yourself. His grip lessened when he got the inkling you weren't about to pull away and sock him in the jaw. His hands drifted to your waist as the two of you fumbled for a more proper kiss. You could taste the lingering salt of the cigarette and your senses felt overwhelmed by the distinct feel of Theodore Nott.

“Tesoro -“ he wheezed, twisting away from where your hand had dropped to his bicep, the smouldering cigarette having singed through his shirt.

“Shit, sorry. How do you -?”

Theo plucked the cigarette from your hand and dropped it on the floor, grinding it with the heel of his shoe. He looked up to where you were still hovering above him before pulling you down into his lap by your hips. He grabbed your wrists, placing your hands on his shoulders, and you had to bite back a smile over how adorably particular he was.

“Telling me where to place my hands? And I thought I was the bossy one.”

Theo quirked an eyebrow. "Maybe I'm just sick of waiting." He tipped his head back against the rough stone wall. "And...wanting."

You smoothed a thumb across his collarbone, not missing the way he shivered under your touch. “So what do you want, Nott?”

He tipped you forward, kissing you much more properly this time. You didn't bother pulling much away as you broke apart, whispering with your faces inches away.

“We're actually doing this.”

“Seems so.”

He cupped your face, swiping a thumb under your eyes as his expression flickered.

“Were you…crying?”

You sniffed, dragging his hand off your face, and looking away. "Just - allergies."

Theo blinked, watching your face with a stunned (and slightly dumb) expression as if you hadn't said anything.

“But you never cry.”

You gave a bitter smile. “Congratulations, Nott. You’re officially the first person to ever reduce me to tears.” You desperately hoped he would drop the subject. Just talking about it was enough to make you want to start sobbing again.

"Did someone say something to you? I swear I - it's not because of me, is it?"

Your face crumpling was the only confirmation he needed. “It was like you - I don’t know. Like you hated me, or something.”

Theo captured your hands in his own where they had slid down to his chest. “I….hate you?”

“Or something. Probably the something.”

“But - why? How? If anything, I’d say you hated me.”

Your lips parted as your brow furrowed. “What gave you that idea?”

“What gave me the - I don’t know, all the scowling? The glaring? The snide remarks? The bodily harm?”

You flushed at the memory of the Potions storeroom incident. You could kind of see his point. “That was one time.”

“You owe me new pants, by the way. New pants and a new di-“

You muffled his rant with a kiss and instantly felt him relax beneath you, the tension and annoyance draining from his limbs as he moulded your body to fit more perfectly against his. So eager, so insistent, so different from the past couple of weeks.

“I don’t know," you started once you pulled away. "This felt worse than hate. It felt like…like you couldn’t even be bothered to hate me." You swallowed hard, eyes fixed on where you were fidgeting with the edge of his shirt's collar. "As if that was how little you thought of me.”

"Mia cara," he sighed, almost dejectedly. "Small is the last thing I think of you." He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly, searching for the right words.

“I’m not good at expressing…fondness.”

“No. You don’t say.”

He wet his lips. You could see the smile he was holding back.

“I’m not good at being honest or direct. Everything - my mind, it’s a mess, it’s always about what I want, and how to get what I want, I never - I never meant to make you feel that way."

Maybe it was still all part of some elaborate scam. But sitting there with the rough stone arch digging into your sensitive skin, the distant scent of holding Theo's face in your hands like he was moonlight, you believed him. You didn't even have to try. You just did.

“I’m not used to playing the part of the fool, bella. But when I see you smile, or read, or fiddle with your hair…" He reached out to free the lock of hair you were nervously tugging on, "...I never feel more foolish.”

"I don't think I've ever hated you either, for the record," you said, smoothing out his shirt where you had crumpled it in your fists. "I might have thought I did, but..." you trailed off, looking into his mesmerisingly blue eyes. No, you decided softly, you never could hate the boy.

"I never thought anything could come of us. You were - you are - so brilliant. You're on the road to brilliant things. I was only going to get in the way. And...I don't think I could live with myself if I did." He glanced up and, seeing the crestfallen look on your face, hastily amended his statement.

"That, and you had no patience for pretty boys.”

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I have no patience for you, either.”

Theo grinned, shifting you up his lap, as if you could never be close enough to him. He looked so carefree you couldn’t hold back a small smile of your own. “You keep me so humble.”

“I try.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, tracing burning expanses of skin, staring at each other like you could never get your fill. You’d occasionally press soft kisses down his neck and jaw while his hands would drift up your ribcage or down your thighs. Both of you moved at an unhurried pace, because now you had all the time in the world to have and hold each other.

“It’s getting late,” you murmured, hours later, now tucked into Theo’s side as you lightly traced shapes on his chest. It was pleasantly warm and given the late hour, you could feel your eyelids growing heavier. When he didn't respond, you lifted your head.

Beneath you, Theo breathed deeply and evenly, looking half-asleep. You rolled your eyes and gave him a hard jab in the ribs.

“Hey. Nott.”

Theo grunted, stirring, swatting your hand away. You grinned to yourself - annoying Theo would never lose its appeal. Eyes still closed, his hand haphazardly searched for you to once again pull you against him. You ignored his efforts, deliberately unhelpful.

“You need to pick another name, y’know. This whole last-name business isn’t going to fly as my girlfriend.”

You felt yourself unreasonably perk up over his words. “Your girlfriend? Me?”

He cracked an eye open. “I thought the exclusivity thing was obvious. You're a serial monogamist.”

“Yeah, but you’re not.”

Theo groaned, too tired to keep up with you. He rolled you onto your back and propped himself up with a forearm. You giggled softly, flustered by the heat in his gaze.

“Then I guess you’re lucky I like kissing you the best, amore.”

He dropped his head, and you got the distinct impression you could never tire of the feel of his hands and lips on you.

“What were you saying before?” Theo inquired, while his hands continued their distracting exploration under your clothes.

“It’s late.”

“Right.”

“You have Charms right after breakfast. We should,” your breath hitched, “um, go to bed.”

Theo grumbled something in the crook of your neck, sending the most delicious vibrations down your spine.

"Fine," you sighed, encircling your arms around his neck. "Five more minutes."

He barely made it in time for Charms the next morning.

#theo nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott angst #theodore nott fluff

402 notes · View notes

latenightreadingpdf · 4 months ago

Text

First Kiss - Remus Lupin

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: Sirius, James, and Peter tease Remus about his lack of a first kiss.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The Marauders’ dorm was a hub of noise and laughter that night, with Sirius sprawled out on his bed, proudly recounting his latest adventure with a girl he’d met in Herbology. He stretched his arms out with a smug smile. “Absolutely couldn’t keep her hands off me,” he said, punctuating the sentence with a wink. “Who could, right?”

James, perched on the edge of his bed, raised an eyebrow but couldn’t keep from laughing. “Right, because obviously, you’re the irresistible Sirius Black. Never mind your terrible reputation.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “At least I’m doing something about my love life, unlike some people here,” he said, nodding toward James. “Speaking of—how’s it going with Evans?”

James grinned, his eyes brightening. “Actually, better than usual,” he said, a bit bashfully. “Last time I asked her out, she didn’t seem nearly as annoyed. Progress, right?”

Sirius clapped his hands together in a grand show of celebration. “It’s happening! Lily Evans is finally seeing the charm of our dear Prongs!”

Remus, sitting off to the side with a book in hand, did his best to block out the conversation, though his lips twitched into a faint smile. He turned the page, not really reading it, but it was better than participating in the banter. Maybe, if he was quiet enough, they’d forget he was there.

But, of course, they didn’t.

Sirius smirked as he turned to Remus. “What about you, Moony? Got any secret admirers you’re hiding from us?”

Remus shrugged without looking up. “No,” he said simply, his eyes stubbornly fixed on the book in front of him, even though he hadn’t comprehended a single sentence since Sirius started talking.

James leaned back, resting on his hands, and squinted at Remus with a skeptical grin. “I bet you haven’t even had your first kiss yet, have you?”

Remus felt the tips of his ears go warm. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Peter let out a small, surprised gasp. “Wait, really? Remus, you haven’t?”

Remus gritted his teeth, shrinking back slightly as all eyes in the room turned to him. “Yes, really. So what?” he said, bristling defensively. He sank lower into his chair, feeling the familiar urge to just vanish.

James held up his hands in a calming gesture. “Nothing wrong with that! It’s… noble, even,” he said, nodding. “I’m waiting for mine, too. For Lily.” He leaned back with a dreamy look on his face, as if he could see her there in front of him, and Remus had to bite back a chuckle.

But Sirius wasn’t about to let it go. With a mischievous grin, he jumped to his feet and swaggered over to Remus, leaning close. “You know, Moony,” he whispered conspiratorially, “I could help you out. Want me to teach you how to kiss?”

Remus’s eyes widened, and he tried to pull back, clutching his book tightly to his chest. “What? No, stop that!” he stammered, face burning. “I know how to kiss. I’ve read books!”

But Sirius was undeterred, moving even closer and pursing his lips in a ridiculous kissy face. “Oh really? The books taught you, did they?”

Remus flinched, scrambling back as much as he could while stuck on the bed, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. Sirius was nearly nose-to-nose with him when the door creaked open, and a voice interrupted their antics.

“Um…” You paused in the doorway, eyebrows raised as you took in the scene. “Should I come back later?”

Remus jerked upright so quickly he almost fell off the bed. He shot Sirius a warning look and quickly scrambled away from him, trying to salvage whatever dignity he had left. “No! No, you don’t have to leave,” he said, still looking as flustered as ever. “Stay. Please.”

You glanced between them, an amused smile on your face as you walked over. “What’s going on?”

Remus coughed, his gaze shifting to the floor. “Nothing. Absolutely no—” He could only hope you wouldn’t ask any more questions.

But, of course, Peter piped up. “We were just talking about how Remus hasn’t had his first kiss yet,” he said with a cheerful grin, clearly oblivious to Remus’s mortification.

Remus shot him a look, but the damage was done. He glanced at you, his cheeks going pink all over again. He hadn’t wanted you to hear about it, of all people. If he’d felt embarrassed before, now he was ready to crawl under his bed and never come out.

“It’s not a big deal,” he muttered, clutching his book like a lifeline. “I was just going to go somewhere quiet to read. A place where they don’t talk about my… kissing experience,” he added, shooting a pointed look at his friends.

Without waiting for a reply, Remus turned and made his way out of the dorm room, his heart pounding in his chest. He was halfway down the corridor when he heard footsteps following him. He slowed down and turned to see you jogging to catch up, your face softened with concern.

“Hey, Remus,” you said gently when you reached him, looking him in the eyes. “Is it true? You haven’t, um…?”

Remus sighed, pressing his lips together. He’d never thought about his inexperience much before, but now it felt like a glaring flaw. “Yeah, it’s true,” he admitted, his voice barely more than a mumble. “It’s a bit pathetic, really, isn’t it? Everyone else—Sirius, James—they’re all so confident, and I’m just…” He trailed off, letting out a frustrated sigh.

You reached out, your hand resting on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t think it’s pathetic at all. It’s kind of sweet, actually.” Then, with a small, knowing smile, you leaned in and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his lips.

It was so brief that Remus barely had time to process it, but when you pulled back, he was frozen in place, staring at you with wide eyes and a stunned expression. His cheeks went a brilliant shade of red, and he swallowed, completely speechless.

“There,” you said softly, smiling up at him. “Now you don’t have to be embarrassed about it.”

The sound of voices suddenly broke the quiet, and the two of you turned back to see James and Sirius shouting about something from inside the room. You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I should probably go check on them before they tear the place apart. You go enjoy your book, alright?”

With a final, reassuring smile, you turned and walked back to the dorm, leaving Remus standing alone in the hallway, still clutching his book and staring after you, completely dazed.

He finally looked down at the page in his book, a foolish grin tugging at his lips. He knew that focusing on reading was going to be utterly impossible.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ please tell me somebody gets the reference I made 🙏

#fanfic #fluff #first kiss #remus lupin x reader #marauders #remus lupin #dead gay wizards from the 70s #the marauders #mauraders #remus lipin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus x reader #remus x you #remus x y/n

576 notes · View notes

milfsdoll · 4 months ago

Text

Good luck, babe.

Writer!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Twelve years later, a package is sent to your home, the latest book from your ex secret lover. The gesture turns your whole life upside down, a harsh wave of your old feelings and memories dragging you towards her again.

Warnings: +18, angst, internal homophobia, mentions of Steve, Agatha and reader are both in their thirties, smut, finger and oral sex, reader receiving, praise kink, soft sex.

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this one and I may have dropped a tear or two, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did<3 sorry if there are any mistakes, English is not my language.

Tag list: @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @yamysunmoon thank you loves <3

Masterlist

“I love my life”

You kept repeating that sentence over and over again, standing before the bathroom mirror, hands resting on the sink, head hung low. Trying to ease your shaky breath, trying to stop the tears that threaded to spill from your closed lids.

“I love my life, I love my life, I love my life”

With a deep breath you looked up to your reflection, your face reflecting anything but exhaustion and sadness, your mascara ruined from the tears that escaped.

“I fucking love my life”

And you did… right? You had to.

You had everything you have ever wanted, everything you dreamt of when you were a kid. A good and stable job, a beautiful home to enjoy and take care of and… you had a husband. A perfect, nice, handsome husband.

Then why the fuck did you feel this way? So empty, like you were falling down a pit of darkness, like you had this hollow hole in your heart, every day getting bigger, keeping you from doing normal life things. You had to pull every strength from you just to get up from bed in the morning and go to work. You been feeling like this for years now, but lately… after seeing her on the news again…

Seeing her on tv, being interviewed for her new book, one that you had at home, hidden in the closet, ready to be read. One that she sent you directly with a personal autograph for some fucking sick reason.

No, no, this wasn’t because of her, it couldn’t be, it’s been… what? Twelve years? This was not because of her, no way.

You stared at your left hand, slightly shaking, you inspected your wedding ring, your beautiful, shiny, wedding ring, it should bring you joy, make you feel free, happy. But it only made you nauseous, feeling like you were tied down for life.

Only if you… could… slowly you brought your right hand to the ring, pulling it up from your finger, your mind screaming at you, telling you what a terrible idea this was, your breath hitched, suddenly feeling lighter when it fully came off, like all your burden disappeared in that moment. You wiggled your fingers little bit, bringing your hand up in front of the mirror, you could see the tan mark from the metal, you haven’t taken it off in the whole ten years you’ve been married, and it felt… good.

You felt fucking good without it.

“No” you whispered, shaking those thoughts from your head and deciding to put the ring back on, but when you were lifting your right hand the ring fell from your hold “fuck!” You hissed trying to catch it as it bounced in the sink “fuck, no, come here” you whined as it slipped again, going directly into the drain “no, shit!” You smashed the marble, cursing your fucking office for not having a proper working sink “what the fuck!?” You groaned, hiding you face in your hands in frustration.

Why the hell did you even have to take it off? It was stupid! Why did you take. it. off?!

“Ok… it’s ok, calm down” you whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath before splashing some water in your face and redoing your make up “it’s alright, he won’t notice, and you’ll go buy a new, exact one, before he does” you tried to calm yourself down, and you were sure if anyone came near the bathroom door and heard you they’d think you have gone crazy, and maybe you have.

And just like that you continued with your day, putting on a good face and getting through your schedule. Going to meetings, getting some paperwork done and going for a drink after with your best friend, and Steve wasn’t going to be home for at least a few more days, so that gave you advantage to get a new ring.

When you finished at work you bid your goodbyes to your coworkers and almost flew to your car in the parking lot, you needed those drinks with Wanda so fucking bad.

As soon as you parked your car you made your way to the bar. You waved at the waitress as you entered before turning around to see Wanda standing up from her seat “oh my god, hi” you instantly sighed in relief as you hugged her, giving her a big squeeze before pulling away and sitting in your usual booth.

“Rough day, huh?” She chuckled at your tired face.

“Week” you corrected her with a huff, hearing her chuckle again. She knew something was off when you called her for an urgent girls night.

You ordered your usual drink, Wanda and you catching up from the two weeks you’ve been apart, when she suddenly saw you naked hand when you went to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Sweetheart?” She asked, her demeanor getting serious now, her head tilting in her famous way.

“Hm?”

“Where is your ring?”

Well, fuck.

You let out a heavy sigh and rested your hand on the table, glancing it for a second before your head turned up to your friend, her face in a worried expression “did something happed with Steve?”

“No, non of that” you shook your head, you marriage was still the same old boring story.

Your face cringed for a moment “but I might have dropped the ring in the damn sink this morning” you winced at the memory, your eyes closing, not wanting to see the disappointed face in the redhead’s face.

But all you heard was laugher, furrowing your eyebrows you looked up at her, watching as she clutched her stomach from laughing “it’s not funny! It fell so fucking dramatically for some reason, I had a really stressful moment there!” You scoffed incredulously at her, the woman laughing even harder at your words.

You started chuckling with her, your hand going to your mouth, actually feeling bad about the whole situation, but it was hilarious really.

“Oh my god” Wanda said breathless, trying to calm down as she wiped her tears away “please tell me if was an accident” she said before taking a deep breath and looking at you.

“Of course it was! What do you take me for?”

Was it?

“Well… I know things with Steve have been a little tense after he saw the book, so I don’t know, just making sure”

You sighed and took a sip from your drink, contemplating if telling Wanda the truth was a good idea, you knew she wouldn’t judge you, but you didn’t want to bring anymore attention to the topic, and you didn’t want to feel more confused than you were feeling already. So you kept silent.

“By the way… have you read her book, already?”

“Oh no, and I don’t plan on reading it, honestly”

Wanda cleared there throat, getting visibly uncomfortable all of the sudden “what?” you asked her, sensing her nerves flooding around her.

“You should read it” she sighed, and the pity look she gave you… you didn’t like that look at all.

“Why?” Your voice sounded rough, your eyes glaring at the woman.

“It’s just- I don’t- just read it, alright? You really should…”

Ok now you were the one who was nervous, what the fuck did that woman write about? I mean, the note she left on your book…

This one is for you… good luck, babe.

Those words haunted you at night.

“Wanda…” you were starting to get a really uneasy feeling here “did Agatha write about me?”

Wanda instantly held your hands in hers “I’m so sorry” she said squeezing your hands, but you quickly retreated them, flinching from it like her hold was fire. You stared at her, shock all over your features.

She wouldn’t be capable, right? She did not write about you, maybe Wanda mistook it, maybe the book was about someone else. Agatha wasn’t that cruel to write about you. After all these years, you thought she even forgot about you, your past together. But you did hurt her. You broke her heart. Fuck.

“I-I’m sorry Wands, I have to go”

Without another word you left the bar, not even hearing your friend begging you to stay behind you. Your heart and mind raced, every memory, every feeling, every bit of your past with Agatha starting to flood out. How could she write about such thing? Knowing you had a husband, a life, a reputation. What if people found out it was about you? It could ruin your whole life!

Not noticing how or when, you found yourself parked outside of your place, rushing out of your car you made your way inside, running upstairs, into your bedroom. Flicking the light on, you entered your walk in closet, bringing the chair you had in the corner to the shelves. After taking your heels off you got on it, searching for the book in the back of your closet, whining when you didn’t find it “where the fuck are you?” You got on the arm of the chair, throwing all your purses off the shelve when you saw it pressed against the wall “there you are, fucker” you said under your breath, grabbing the book and getting off the chair.

You instantly sat on it with a huff, not even bothering to take off your suit. You took a deep breath and opened the book, scoffing as you saw the autograph again.

The hours passed and you still were reading the book, your eyebrows formed in a deep frown as you did, not believing your own eyes. And when you flipped the last page, you stared at the last words, suddenly feeling how hard it was to breathe, unbuttoning your blouse at the top.

You felt like you were suffocating, having just read you entire fucking college life in a book. Your hands trembled, tears running down your cheeks as you got up, the book still in your hand. You stared at it for a minute, trying to process everything you just read, did she really see you this way? So selfish, so heartless, so cruel.

You were not that way, you had to leave her, for your own good, for your future. You could not be that way, you could not be like her, you just couldn’t, your parents… they would have disowned you, hated you even, she knew that. Why the fuck did she write you this way? Like you were the fucking villain?

Anger filled your body and mind in a second, letting out a broken scream as you threw the book across the room, and then a rush of sadness waved into you, your knees gave out on you, collapsing in the floor, sobbing heavily into your hands as you tried to grasp everything around your head.

How could she do this to you?

She exposed your whole life just like that, like you were nothing but a mere inspiration to get money and fame. And she had the balls to send you a personal copy, like she was making fun of you in the process.

After you got out every emotion from your system you got up and went to wash your face and change into your sleeping clothes. You went to bed, but not before taking some sleeping pills, you knew there was no other way you could rest if it wasn’t with them, as much as you hated them.

“Hey there, doll”

You heard a familiar voice behind you, and without even turning around you chuckled, still a little dizzy from the drinks you’ve taken “hi Aggie”

The brunette girl sat by your side at the stairs, comfortable silence grew between the two of you, the only sound coming from inside of the house, the frat party in it’s peak. You both contemplated the starts on the dark sky for a while, until you broke the silence “it’s beautiful tonight” you whispered without taking your eyes off the atmosphere.

“It is” Agatha agreed with you, but she had her eyes on your side profile, admiring your soft features, how your lips curled into a smile and your eyes glowed before you turned your head to her “come with me” she said standing up from the stairs, her hands reaching for you to take.

“Where to?”

“Don’t you trust me?” She winked at you, causing you to giggle and grab her hand, of course you trusted her, always.

She guided you through the backyard into a forest you didn’t even know there was “Aggs, where are we going?” You asked her nervously, you weren’t a big fan of being in a forest in the middle of the night, so you glued yourself to the slightly taller girl, your arm grabbing hers a little too tight, but she didn’t mind at all.

“It’s ok, we’re not far” she hummed as she kissed your temple and held you close to her in a protective way.

Not even a minute after you arrived into a large plain land, only a big tree in the middle “wow” you looked around, it looked gorgeous, seeing different types of flowers around the area “how did you find this?”

“I come here for my witchery rituals”

You scoffed and turned to her, finding her with a teasing smile and a raised eyebrow “yeah, great joke” you rolled your eyes at her.

“You know I like to take walks, one day I kind of got lost and ended here somehow” Agatha chuckled at the memory, taking your hand in hers again and guiding you to the big tree.

She sat under it, tapping her lap you sat down next to her and laid you head on her lap. You sighed and closed your eyes as she began to stroke your hair, you always felt at peace when she was around. Everyone said she was mean and too sarcastic but you never thought that was true, she wasn’t like that with you at least. And you liked her sarcasm.

“Can I ask you something, pet?” Agatha asked you interrupting your thoughts, you looked up at her and nodded, waiting for her to continue “What will happen to us after finishing college?”

Not this again… you sighed and sat up from her lap, not noticing the pained features from your… friend as you did so “Agatha we talked about this”

“I know but… this is real, what we have, what I feel for you it’s very real” she felt like she was begging for you, and she fucking hated that, she has never, ever, had to beg for anyone.

“Agatha…” you huffed and stood up from the grass, your hands rubbing your face in frustration “since the beginning I told you this was only a fling ok? And you agreed. If my-“ you winced at the thought “if my parents find out… it would be the end of me, they expect me to get married to the perfect man-“

“Steve” it was Agatha’s turn to huff in frustration, the name leaving her lips in a despite tone. She stood up and turned you around, her hands resting on your cheeks “you really think he’s gonna make you happy?”

You didn’t answer her right away, both of you knowing too well what the truth was “that doesn’t matter” you whispered and took her hands off your face.

“It does! It does matter” she grabbed your face again in determination, her forehead resting against yours “the only thing that matters is you here, not them, not whatever they want for you, only what you want”

You looked into her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay from your own, your breath hitching as you felt hers lips ghost over yours “Aggie…” your voice sounded pained, but before you could say anything else she smashed her lips against yours.

The kiss was harsh at first, Agatha took all her frustration into it, her tongue intruding you mouth, making you moan in surprise at her demeanor. One of her hands snook itself on your waist, pulling your body flush against her. Your hands caressing the back of her neck made her pull away “I’m sorry” she whispered before kissing you again, softer this time.

She knew this was probably going to be the last time she had you like this, and she wanted to savor it, she wanted to make you never forget about it, about her.

Because she was never going to forget about you.

Your tongues swirled together, her hand on your waist gripping you tightly, afraid you were going to pull away at any time, she could feel your tears damping her cheeks, your hearts heavily beating against your ribcages.

And when you pulled away to breath you saw the pain in Agatha’s gaze. You took a step back, putting some distance between you, knowing you would fall for it if she tried to kiss you again.

“I’m so sorry, I’m not-“

“You are not what, huh?”

The blue eyed girl looked at you, her expression changing completely, clenching her jaw as she started at you in challenge.

“I’m not like this… I’m not like you”

“Bullshit! You’re only lying to yourself here”

You shook your head, more tears running down your cheeks “please don’t do this” you let out a broken sob.

“Don’t do what!? Are you kidding me? After being your fucking little secret for two years you have the balls to tell me you’re not like me? What the fuck am I, huh?” You could hear the hurt in her voice, the betrayal, and it only made you sob harder into your hands, this was the last thing you wanted to happen “I hate you”

You woke up with a gasp, immediately sitting up on the bed, your hands going to your heavily beating chest. You tried to ease your breath, wiping a tear that escaped from your eye “it’s alright, it was just a dream” you said to yourself, taking deep breaths as you walked to the bathroom. But it was not just a dream. It was exactly what happened the last time you spoke to Agatha.

You got into the shower, the warm water calming you down instantly. Replaying the scene in your head you slid yourself down the shower wall, hiding your head between your knees. You did her so dirty, you betrayed her, you played with her. You really didn’t mean to, you were a young girl, you wanted to have fun, to feel free before being tied down into the life you were living now.

But you fell deeply for her.

And you didn’t think of the consequences, you were selfish. And god… you were like her, you are and you will always be. You’ve never liked boys, every time Steve touched you it was like fire, you wanted to get away from it as far as possible. His kisses… it were nothing like Agatha’s, her lips here so soft, she tasted so sweet, and her touch, she was so careful with you, so fucking soft, and Steve… he was so rough, so cold doing it, and his beard, the way it scratched your face, you fucking hated it.

“Fuck” you sobbed heavily, your arms hugging your legs to your chest. You fucked up, and only because you wanted to make your parents proud of you, they had your life planned since you were a baby, and you didn’t want to let them down.

But you let yourself down in the process.

You lost yourself.

Maybe you could get your happiness back. You were so tired of living this miserable life, next to a man you didn’t love, in this house you barely could call home, you felt so out of place. But it wasn’t late to redo your story. To make things right, for you.

You could start by talking with Steve, asking for a divorce. And… talk to Agatha, apologize to her.

And you did that, you talked to Steve that very night he arrived home from his trip. It wasn’t easy, and you didn’t tell him the Agatha part of course. You knew he suspected something, but he understood without asking too much and you ended things peacefully.

The next day you saw Agatha was having a book signing event, so you decided to pay her a visit.

You decided to wear something casual but elegant, unconsciously wanting to impress the woman. You threw on some black pants and a purple knit sweater off the shoulder, finishing it with a basic black heels. Looking at the mirror you took a deep breath and straightened your top “ok, you got this”

As you entered the bookstore the anxiety increased inside of you, clutching the book to your chest for some support. You walked around the place searching for her, and then you saw her, stopping on your tracks, your heart skipping a beat as you watched her seated at a table, signing a book while she talked to the overly excited woman before her.

Fuck, she looked even better than on the tv, she looked fucking gorgeous, her brunette hair in it’s wavy and chaotic nature. Your fingers flinched around the book, remembering how soft it felt around them, how she loved when you caressed it while you both laid on the bed, studying or talking about some random thing.

Jesus, focus.

You didn’t even know if she was still single, probably not, and it was ok. You only came here to talk to her and apologize… right?

After 10 minutes of waiting in line it was finally your turn, feeling your heart in your throat you took a step toward her, laying the book in front of her with your shaky hands, her eyes busy reading a paper next to her “do you want some personal-“ she froze mid sentence, shocked when she saw the autograph in your book.

She slowly looked up at you, and when your eyes met it was like the world stopped in the act, only the two of you existed. Agatha stood up from the chair, rounding the table while she never took her eyes off you. When she stood before you her hand tried to reach your cheek but she hesitantly retreated it to her side “is it really you?” She asked you, her eyes scanning your face for reassurance.

“In flesh and blood”

Agatha suddenly grabbed your hand, she whispered something to a woman next to the table before she guided you somewhere to the back of the bookstore. When she pulled you into a room she locked it before she turned to you “I never thought I’d see you again” she said in disbelief, taking a step towards you.

You didn’t hesitate for a second, needing to feel her against you after all this time, your arms wrapped around her “I’m so sorry Agatha” you whispered against her shoulder.

Agatha immediately accepted your hug, sighing into your hair as she squeezed your frame softly. You felt so good, you still smelt so sweetly, so addicting. She relaxed into your arms, feeling your hands rubbing her spine.

She missed you so much.

But… you hurt her. She pulled away, her eyebrows curling into frown “what are you doing here?” Her voice cold all of the sudden, like she was shielding herself from you.

“Agatha…” you tried to get closer again but she took a step back, her features turning in a warning “I came here to apologize. I read your book and… even though it really hurt me I realized how bad I hurt you too in the past” You never left her eyes, trying to tell her with your own you were being sincere “I’m sorry…”

The woman stared at you for a minute, studying you, before she briefly nodded “it’s ok, I apologize too for the things I said in the book”

“You treated me like a villain”

“Well you treated me like trash, so I think we’re even”

You pursed your lips, nodding your head as you started to pace around the room, only realizing it was an office “I know, I was a fool, a stupid girl who only wanted the approbation of my parents. I only wanted wanted to make their dreams come true, not even realizing my dream was… you” the last word escaped your lips in a whisper, the shock of your own confession rooting you on the spot.

Agatha’s mouth fell agape, sucking in a sharp breath, the last thing she expected today was this. To finally see and hear you opening your heart to her, and to yourself.

You turned around to her, seeing her hands clutch her chest, her soft lips slowly curling into a small smile “I know you didn’t expect me to come here, and tell you this, but I needed to, and I wanted to tell you that I’m getting my life back. I’m going to take the reins of my life and be true to myself. And I know that you probably are not interested in me anymore, or still hate me, and I won’t judge you. Maybe you’re in a relationship and I don’t want to confuse y- mphh!”

Agatha, tired of hearing your rambling, grabbed you by the waist and smashed her lips against yours. Just like the last time you kissed, but this time she knew this was the first of many.

Your hands flew to her shoulders to steady yourself, shocked for a moment. But when Agatha’s tongue stroked your lips for entrance you let her, humming into her mouth as your hands travelled to her cheeks.

“Fuck, I missed you, pet” she whispered against your lips, making you smile at the pet name before kissing her again. Her soft lips danced against yours while she slowly backed you up against the office desk, her hands sneaking into your sweater, goosebumps erupting your skin as she stroked your bare back.

Then suddenly a knock startled you both, making her pull away from you “Miss. Harkness, the five minute break is up”

Agatha groaned in frustration, and you hid your laugh behind your hand “wait outside for me, ok? I’ll go in a minute” she sighed before kissing your cheek.

“But what about all that people?” You asked her. Referring to all the fans waiting for her to sign their books.

“Whatever, I’m tired to signing books that will be resold in some random web for way too much money” Agatha said with disdain, rolling her eyes and waving her hands dramatically.

You watched her leave the room after sending you a wink, still chuckling at her antics.

Oh, how you’ve missed her.

Without bringing too much attention, you left the book shop and waited the woman on the parking lot, leaning against your car and hugging your arms tightly at the chilly air.

After a few minutes you saw her walk towards you, her arms opening for you, making you smile and instantly falling into her welcoming embrace. You stayed like that for a while, your face hiding into her neck as you took in her scent, her fresh, floral scent that always made you dizzy.

“So… no more Steve?” Agatha asked you, pushing you away softly as she tuck your hair behind your ear, taking in your features.

“No more Steve” you said to her, chuckling.

Agatha sighed in relief. She asked you to go to her place with her, and you of course accepted.

As soon as you arrived to her house, Agatha was all over you, pulling you against her frame, her kisses becoming needy as she guided you down the hallway to the stairs.

“Agatha, we should talk” you told her, your breath trying to ease while she trailed her kisses down your jaw.

“I know” her voice hushed between kisses you almost didn’t hear her.

“Then stop” you let out a giggle, trying not to trip over the stairs as she guided you up.

When you arrived to the second floor the woman pushed you back against the corridor wall softly, her nose rubbing against yours as she looked into your eyes “do you really want me to?” She hummed, leaving little pecks all around your face.

No, you really didn’t. It’s been so long since you felt this way, twelve years to be exact, the way she ran her hands all over your body even with the barrier of your clothes, the way she kissed you so sweetly, so desperate.

“No” you whispered to her, pulling her into another kiss. You could talk later, anyway.

Agatha chuckled against your lips, pulling you into her bedroom. She kicked the door with her foot and dragged you towards the bed, her hands pushing the sweater over your chest, you helped her take it off, giggling as she took in your barely covered chest, her fingers caressing the lace fabric of your bra.

Your hands worked on unbuttoning her shirt as Agatha continued to explore your skin with her fingertips, an when they reached your waist she suddenly shoved you on the mattress, earning a surprised yelp from you “you don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of this very moment”

Agatha discarded her shirt while her eyes burned into yours “countless nights with so many women, and only being able to think about you, trying to imagine they were you”

You breath hitched at her words, the thought of her with other women, but with you in her mind made your insides burn in desire “they were never like you, no one can compare to you”

“Aggie” you whined her name needy, watching as she crawled on the bed after she took off her pants, a smirk in her lips as she ghosted them over your skin on your stomach and chest.

“Tell me…” she hummed softly, her hands working on pulling you out of your pants “did Steve make you come like I did?” Her eyebrow raised at you, seeing how you only shook your head “you know I like words, pet”

“No” you huffed at her, feeling her hand travel to your back, unclasping your bra with too much ease “he never-“ a gasp interrupted you, Agatha’s mouth closing around your nipple.

“He never what? Mh?” She fucking knew what she was doing, her knee pressing up against your center, making you go mad under her touch, torturing you.

She watched you struggle to let any word out, breathing heavily while she toyed with your breasts, nipping and sucking one and pinching the other. She could feel the wet spot on your panties against her knee, your hips rolling on it trying to get some friction, loving how desperate you were for her already.

“Come on… you can say it, beautiful” she said pouting her lips at you, almost as if she was mocking you, and she was. It made you huff at her, a scoff appearing on your features “oh no, none that” she grabbed your jaw, her tone in a warning “behave, alright?”

You nodded making the woman hum in satisfaction “he never has made me come” you whispered out the words, redness creeping up your neck and cheeks, feeling embarrassed at the fact that, in ten years, only you’ve been able to satisfy yourself.

“Aw, my poor thing” Agatha kissed your cheek, she actually felt bad for you. She couldn’t imagine to be stuck with a man for ten years, having to satisfy him almost every night. But she was going to make it up for you “must have been pretty frustrating, mh?”

“Yes” you whined as she started nipping at your neck, your hand going into her wavy hair, your hips rolling into hers unconsciously “Aggie?” You called for her, causing the woman to look at you, pecking your lips in a soft way.

“What do you want, pet?” She already knew, of course she knew, but she wanted to hear you say it, she needed to hear it from you.

“Touch me, please” your eyes stared into her blue ones “make me feel good” she smiled at you, letting out a chuckle before she kissed you.

Her tongue explored your mouth while she helped you taking off your lace panties, leaving you completely bare before her. You immediately wrapped your leg round her hip, feeling her fingers dancing down your belly painfully slow. When she reached your mound, slipping her index finger in your clit you both moaned.

She trailed her lips down your chest, her fingers rubbing your wetness all over your lips and clit “you’re soaking wet, and I barely touched you” she breathed out, leaving kisses and bites all over your figure. Your back arched to wards her, only being able to let out low moans as she kept playing with your clit, you hips moving against her hand “stay still” she kissed your hip, her free hand pushing them down as she made herself comfortable between your legs.

Fuck. The sight of her kissing your thighs, her eyes never leaving yours, it made you clench around nothing. Just realizing how much you have really missed having her like this, making you heavenly desperate for her. Not being able to think properly, only with her clouding your mind.

And when you felt her tongue lick between your lips back to your clit you whole mind and body crumbled. Your head snapping back into the pillow as you let out a loud gasp, hearing Agatha moan into you “fuck, I missed how good you tasted, doll”

She became feral in that moment, eating you up like a mad woman, sucking and nipping at your clit. Loving every sound she pulled from you, how your hands clutched her sheets tightly, trying not to move your hips, obeying to her.

Her name came from your lips in a cry, two fingers pushing inside of you without a warning. She chuckled against your clit at your state, making your body shiver from the vibrations.

You looked so cute, your mouth parted as you tried to control your breathing, eyes closed shut and eyebrows turned into a little frown. Your hand interlocked into her hair, pulling her closer into you, she would have slapped it away in any other situation. But you looked so fucked out already, she let it be, absolutely loving how tight you were clenching around her.

Her fingers in a slow pace, making you whine “if you want anything, you just have to ask for it” she hummed, leaving a kiss over your mound.

“P-please-“ you let out a broken gasp, her teeth biting at your clit “f-fuck, harder, please” you managed you breathe out, damning the woman for making you feel this way.

“Good girl” she hummed proudly, her fingers pumping harder into you, hearing your loud moans as she curled them. Her tongue licking patterns on your clit, a six letter word, Agatha, marking you as hers with the action.

You left the knot on your lower stomach tighten, your hips giving out on you and riding against the woman “fuck, I’m so close Aggie” you whined out, your legs starting to tremble around her.

When you felt her pace fasten, her sucking your clit it drove you to the edge, your orgasm exploding in powerful waves, your body stiffen against her, letting out her name in a broken moan. Agatha guided you through your high, her fingers continuing their slow pace, her lips kissing all over your thigh as she praised you “did so good for me”, “that’s it, good girl”

You weakly pulled her hand away when it became too much, hissing at the loss of contact. She kissed her way up your body, stopping face to face, admiring your flushed state, your breath trying to ease as you opened your eyes slowly to look at her, a faint smile appearing in your lips “hi” you giggled softly.

“Hello beautiful” she chuckled with you, kissing all over your face. You hummed before pulling her into a kiss, moaning when you tasted yourself on her tongue.

She laid by your side, pulling you close to her while she kept kissing you. You interlocked your leg with hers, pulling away from her to breathe. And the two of you stayed like that, your thumb stroking her cheek while her fingers draw the same six letter pattern of before on your waist.

“you’re not running away again, right?”

You could hear the fear in her voice, and it made your heart ache “I won’t, I promise I’m not going anywhere”

Agatha believed you, a smile curling in her lips as she pulled you incredibly close to her, her head sneaking in your neck “good, because I don’t want to write a whole other book about it to make you come back” she mumbled playfully into your skin, feeling your shoulders shake against her as you laughed.

And she laughed with you, both of you feeling like those twenty year old girls in college again.

Two idiots in love with each other.

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha all along #x reader #agatha harkness x you #x you #fanfic #smut #angst #angst with a happy ending

461 notes · View notes

buckysgrace · 4 months ago

Text

Chemistry

Steve x Stepsister!reader

Kinktober 2024

You're home when Steve comes back after stumbling into something odd.

CW: Pseudocest, dubcon, sex pollen, unprotected sex

The movie had started to bore you some time ago, slowly turning into background noise as you flipped through your book. But even that couldn’t hold your interest.

The house was too big for one person, especially on this specific night. You were creeped out, or maybe that had been because of the scary movie you’d watched earlier. You had thought about snooping through the house again, but the last time you had found things of Steve’s that you hadn’t wanted to see.

Living with him was awkward, worse than you thought it would be. You’d known him your whole life, just as a stranger. And he still continued to treat you like one. Like you were somehow to blame for his father cheating and marrying your mother. People might’ve said he had changed but you knew the truth, he was still a dick. You had no control of it, but he still pointed the blame at you. And he had the audacity to say that you were the spoiled one.

You had hoped things would be different, as you were both in the same boat. No siblings, no cousins or anything. It had always just been you and your mom and you had hoped that Steve would relate, that maybe you could bond over it. Having a big brother seemed fun, but he wasn’t interested. He didn’t even want you as a friend.

You almost ignored him when he pushed the door open, easily telling by his body language that he didn’t want to be messed with anyways. But the sight of him made your book fall from your fingers, banging onto the floor as you quickly stood.

“What happened to you?” You gasped in horror, eyes widening as you walked around the couch, “Steve, you look terrible.” You told him seriously, just briefly taking in the Band-aids that decorated his face.

“Nothing.” He scoffed as he shook his head, his hair flopping around as he gripped the railing and began to head up the stairs. You walked behind him, deciding that you shouldn’t ignore him. Not when he looked like this.

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” You protested as you followed him, watching as he took two steps at a time, “Who did that?” You asked seriously, wondering if you should call the cops. Maybe he got mugged, but you had no idea by who. You had thought he was going to be with Nancy.

“No one.” He spoke in irritation, flicking on the switch to his bedroom as he tried to shut the door behind him. But you were faster. You pushed it open with little to no protest from him as he stumbled back, looking exasperated.

“Jesus,” You gasped as the light gave you a good look of his bruises and cuts, “Oh my God. Let me help.” You replied seriously, staring at the dried blood that lingered above his lips and below his nose. He had a nasty cut on his right forehead, along with his left cheek. His lips were swollen and cut up too.

“I don’t need your help.” He replied as he turned his gaze away from you, brown eyes twinkling underneath his bedroom lights. You frowned.

“You’re hurt,” You pointed out, “Just let me clean it up. It looks painful.” You added, gently moving your hand up to move his hair from his forehead. Looking at it closer did nothing to ease your worries. It looked worse close up.

“I’m fine.” He snapped in response, tilting his head back as you dropped your head to your side. You decided that he didn’t get to be stubborn, not right now. He could hate you later, but you weren’t going to leave him like this.

“Please,” You told him softly, “I’d feel bad if I left you alone like this.” You told him gently, heart hammering as he turned his attention back towards you. He observed you for a long moment, like he was debating his choices. Or just too tired to argue.

“Fine.” He grumbled as he sat on the edge of his bed, his jeans dirty along his knees and thighs. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering what the hell he got himself into. But you didn’t press too much.

You gathered up the little things that were available, then worked diligently. You were surprised he was true to his word, sitting still as you dabbed the wash cloth along his face. It still looked bad, but not as terrible as what you had originally thought. Once the blood was cleared, it didn’t look as gnarly.

Your band-aids weren’t as colorful as the previous ones he had, but you hoped that they worked. A million questions raced through your mind, but you kept resting on one. Wondering if he was with Nancy. But you knew it was none of your business and it shouldn’t matter.

“Are you alright?” You asked him as you pulled your hand away, feeling like he looked a lot better than before. But his eyes were dilated, dark and intense as he observed you. Part of you wondered if you had accidentally hurt him.

“I think something’s wrong.” He replied roughly, flicking his tongue out to lick his bottom lip before he gulped roughly. You resisted the urge to touch him again, wondering if he was sick. Maybe he had a fever.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” You questioned him softly, “Steve?” You pried again, tilting your head patiently. He continued to stare, his chest rising and falling slowly before his gaze fell to your lips.

Something in the air shifted, the atmosphere between the two of you growing so tense and quiet you could hear the grandfather clock ticking downstairs. You wondered if he could feel your heart beating, if he could see how your pulse was hitting against your skin.

He leaned forward then, his long fingers falling against your neck as he tugged you closer. Your eyes widened, your lungs stalled as his lips fell against yours. Everything felt like it was falling in slow motion, the world around you stopping.

You expected him to be in pain, to be hurt from how sore and scratched his lips had been. But he didn’t act like that. His groans weren’t from pain, rather from want and need. You could feel it in the way he dragged his lips against yours, how the desperation and lust leaked from his touch.

You felt like putty in his hands as he pulled you closer, sealing the gap between your bodies as his lips moved against yours more frantically. You could feel his teeth gliding against yours, his tongue dipping against the curve of your mouth. It was desperate, carnal.

“Tell me to stop,” He said quickly as he pulled away, brown eyes filled with desperation, “Please.” He begged you as you still felt hazy, your mind mingling from the leftover feeling of his mouth against yours.

You stared at the look in his eyes, how wide and crazed his pupils looked. You wondered if you just had that effect on him, or if it was something else. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer.

“I don’t want you to hurt.” You whispered softly, meaning your words fully. If this made him feel better, you’d willingly give yourself to him. He wasn’t related to you, nor were you really siblings. Your parents just happened to be married.

He inhaled deeply, his thumbs brushing across your cheeks as his eyes scanned your features again. He licked his bottom lip, groaning softly as he tilted his face towards yours again. You parted your lips, craving the feeling of him again.

You had seen him kiss before, when Nancy was over or they were sneaking off at school. But he never kissed her like this. He was always gentle with her, soft touches and tender movements.

The way he was holding you was rough, almost animalistic as he tugged you over his lap. His lips were harsh as he kissed you deeply again, his lips moving against yours tenderly but intensely. He held you like he was afraid you’d pull apart or disappear. You weren’t sure. But you didn’t want it to end.

His tongue fell against your teeth, licking away your spit as soft moans fell off of your tongue. His hands fell to your sides, then across your abdomen as he moved towards the buttons on your pajama shirt.

Your heart was beating so harshly in your chest that it hurt, but you ignored it as he pushed your shirt off of your shoulders. Your insides burned with desire as your hands fell to his chest, rolling your palms over his shirt before he pushed you back again.

You huffed as you fell onto your back, just barely getting yourself balanced on your elbows before he was ripping your pajama bottoms off your legs. You had never seen him in this manner before, so focused and intense.

“You’re so pretty,” He breathed out, expression filled with lust as his eyes scanned your body. You bit your bottom lip, feeling shy underneath his gaze, “God, honey. You look incredible.” He praised you, palms falling to your hips as he pulled you closer.

“Steve,” You started softly, feeling like you were in a trance. Or a dream, “Are you sure you want this?” You asked him seriously, feeling like there would be no going back after this. You weren’t sure you could stop after just having a taste of him.

“Never wanted something so badly before,” He groaned as he began to grind his hips down against your thighs, “Please. Just wanna feel you. Just a bit.” He looked far too pretty as he rolled his head back, his lips parting as little moans fell from his tongue.

“Okay,” You nodded your head in agreement, “S’fine.” You agreed with him, figuring it wouldn’t be too bad if you just touched a little bit. There was nothing wrong with that.

His moans sounded heavenly as he pulled back briefly, just enough to shove his jeans and briefs down to his knees. Your eyes fell to the way his cock plopped out against your leg. His size was a bit intimidating, long and hard. His tip was a soft pink, precum leaking onto your skin as he shifted even closer.

“Hurts,” He groaned as he wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a little stroke, “Feels better now.” He panted as he nodded his head, reassuring himself as he thrust his hips forward. You felt like you were in awe, your mind fuzzy and warm.

“You seem like you’re enjoying yourself.” You teased as you leaned forward, gliding your fingers over his slick cock. You gaped at the feeling, rolling your hands up and down the length of his cock. You liked how warm and soft his skin felt, how hard he felt against your fingers.

“You’re such a brat, you know that?” He replied as he snapped his hips forward in bliss. He grunted as you felt a small smile forming on your lips, liking how desperate he was for your touch.

“Am I?” You teased as you licked your bottom lip, enjoying the way he was grinding roughly against your hand. Pleasure was etched across his expression, telling you that he was enjoying it all too much.

“Yeah,” He sighed as he gripped your knees, digging his fingertips into your flesh, “Fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He apologized, voice breaking up as you wrapped your other hand around the base of his cock. You moved both of your hands together, spreading his slick from his tip to his base.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked him seriously, your clit throbbing as he continued to thrust his hips forward. You almost feared the answer, not wanting him to really say no. You wanted to feel him, to make him feel good.

“No,” He said quickly, desperation forming between his eyebrows, “Please don’t stop. You feel so good around my cock. Please, please.” He cried out, whining as he continued to thrust his hips forward. You licked your bottom lip, admiring the way his cock moved against your fists.

“Do you like that?” You asked him softly, fluttering your eyelashes as he reached his hands forward and gripped your tits. You moaned at the sensation, gasping as he brought his fingers down against your hardened nipples.

He pinched them softly, earning a little moan from you as they hardened in the air. He reached forward, hovering over you before he spit onto your skin. You widened your eyes, feeling like you should be disgusted as he smeared it across your boobs. You weren’t. The sensation traveled down your body, traveling straight to your neglected clit.

He groaned as he rutted his hips forward rougher, his balls slapping against your hand from how roughly he was moving. You felt warm inside as you watched him, wondering what he would feel like inside of you.

“Let me fuck you,” He begged a second later, groaning as he rolled your nipples around between his thumb and fingertip. You continued to stroke him, ignoring the way your wrists were beginning to ache, “Please. I’ll treat you so well, little sister.”

Fuck.

“Okay,” You whispered, not really needing to think about it. You wanted him just as badly. You wondered if you bore the same crazed look in your eye, if lust was written across your expression in the same way, “I want you, Stevie.” You breathed out, glad that your parents would be gone for the next few days. It gave you less to worry about.

Your heart thumped roughly in your chest as he pushed your knees apart and dragged the tip of his cock across your slick folds. You whimpered softly as his leaking tip pressed against your swollen clit, leaving you rolling your hips forward slowly.

“Should we-,” You gulped, trying to collect your thoughts, “Should you get a condom?” You asked him seriously, thinking that it would be best if you were safe.

“I wanna feel you,” He exhaled, eyes dark and pupils shot, “Please. I want to feel you so badly. I’ll be careful. I promise. I wanna feel your cunt so badly.” He begged as he continued to grind against your slick pussy.

“Oh God,” You moaned at the feeling of his heavy dick against you, nodding your head urgently as you bit down on your bottom lip, “Okay. I wanna feel you too.” You admitted, gasping as he slid his tip against your leaking hole.

He moaned at the feeling, pink lips parting in bliss as he bullied his thick cock inside of your thick walls. You whimpered at the sensation of him stretching you out, his cock pressing deeper inside of you as you took a deep breath.

Steve’s hands fell to your fleshy hips, gripping you tightly as he moaned wantonly. His sounds filled the room, desperate and loud as he bottomed out inside of you. His balls were pressed against your slick skin, the tip of his dick nestled against the deepest parts of you. You had never felt so filled before, so stretched and stuffed.

“Steve,” You exhaled roughly, whimpering as you reached down to grip his wrists. This was wrong. So wrong, “Feels good.” You moaned instead, eyes drifting up towards his.

His cock was heavy inside of your cunt, buried snugly inside of you. He fit inside of you so perfectly, like he was a missing puzzle piece. You fought the urge to reach down and touch your clit, feeling how harshly it was buzzing.

He flicked his tongue out across his bottom lip, his smugness hidden behind the lustful expression as he leaned over you. Your knees were pushed to your chest, squishing you as his lips found yours again.

He licked your lips before he kissed you, his lips pressing roughly against yours as he began to slowly rut his hips into you. Your mouth vibrated from his groans, his nose brushing against your skin as he pressed his weight on top of yours.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He apologized as his lips continued to glide against yours, whining as he began to rock himself into you. His thrusts were rough, rapid as his fingers dug harder into your flesh. He was gripping you so tightly that you were sure he was going to leave your skin sore, “Just feels so good.”

Your body slid against the floor as he dragged you along the curve of his cock, your cunt leaking around his girth as he buried himself deeply with each movement. Your moans mingled with his as your nails dug into his wrist, clawing at him blissfully.

“S’okay, s’okay,” You promised, eyes rolling in the back of your head as his tip pressed against your bundle of nerves with each thrust, “Oh my God!” You whined this time, tone turning pitchy as your knees burned from the feeling of his weight over yours.

Steve’s groans grew louder, whinier as he continued to rapidly thrust his hips forward. You could tell by the desperate look on his features that he was trying to hold himself back, trying not to lose control. But you wanted him to. It all felt so good.

“I bet you did that on purpose,” He groaned as he buried himself deeper into you, “You wanted this, didn’t you?” He accused, moans rolling off of his tongue as his balls smacked against your skin.

“Feels good, so good,” You confirmed as you stuck your nails deeper into his skin, pleasure shooting up your spine at the way he was throbbing inside of your slick walls, “Don’t stop.” You demanded, not wanting the pleasure to stop.

He pressed his lips together, a trail of blood falling from where his scratch had ripped open again. You leaned forward, sticking your tongue out to lick it away. He groaned as he held onto you tighter, his cock heavy against your walls as he stuck his tongue out to meet yours.

Drool fell from his mouth and onto yours as your tongues brushed against his. You curled your tongue around his, moaning at the sensation. You felt your clit throbbing, your walls aching as your climax grew near.

“Let me cum inside you,” He whined as he rutted himself harder against you, like he was trying to get closer, “Please. I’ll make you feel so good.” He nodded his head, eyes meeting yours in desperation.

“Wanna feel you cum inside,” You nodded your head, moaning in agreement at the thought of his spunk spilling from your walls, “Please, please.” You moved your hands up his arms, gripping at his clothes to tug him even closer.

His thrusts became uneven, deeper and sporadic as he rutted his hips against yours in desperation. He was whimpering, his sounds filling the room like a pretty melody as you knitted your fingers through his shirt.

“Fuck, fuck!” He cursed, burying his cock deep inside of you. He gripped you tightly, crying out as his dick twitched inside of you, “Oh my God.” He huffed, whimpering as he continued to grind himself into you.

You moaned at the feeling, blinking your eyes slowly as a hazy feeling settled over you. You gasped as you rolled your hands across his shoulders, admiring the pretty look that filled his expression. He looked so handsome, so ethereal.

You still felt like you were floating as he pulled his weight off of you, letting your legs relax for a moment as he slid his softening dick from your slick hole. You gulped, heart hammering as you feared he’d leave you like this. Pressed to the floor with his cum sliding from your cunt.

He dipped down instead, pressing your legs far apart as he buried his face between your legs. You cried out from the sensation as he kissed at your pussy, sucking on your folds and wrapping his lips around your clit. It was rough and soft at the same time, the sensation spreading up your spine.

His tongue was hot against your clit, lapping at the sensitive bud. You cried out as you dug your fingers through his hair, whining as your hips moved on their own. Your body felt like you were burning, on fire as he spread your legs further apart.

He buried his face deeper between your thighs, his tongue drifting down your folds and to your leaking hole. He curled his tongue inside of your cunt, lapping at your walls and cleaning away his spunk. Everything inside of you was pulsing, twisting and churning in pleasure.

“Steve, Steve -,” You chanted, whimpering as your head fell back against the floor. Your hips rutted up against his face, his nose pressing against your clit as his tongue lapped at your spongy walls, “Fuck!” You cursed, shaking as you came with a cry.

You felt like you were floating, your body trembling as your pussy clamped down around his tongue. He kept a tight grip on your hips, keeping you from pulling away as you spasmed from underneath him.

“Oh God,” You cried out, fingers knitting tightly through his hair as your clit throbbed from the overstimulation, “Feels so good.” You breathed out deeply, toes curling as he took one last long lap across your cunt.

“Tastes so good,” He groaned, wet lips sliding against your inner thighs, “You’ve got such a good cunt, baby sister.” He sighed as he dipped back down, taking another broad lick across your clit.

“Can’t,” You squeaked out, feeling like you might melt into the floorboards if he continued, “Too much.” You breathed out, gasping as you tugged his hair away from your sensitive bud.

He looked up at you, his eyes still filled with lust but his pupils were no longer as big. You pressed your fingers tightly together, looking at the mess of cum across his lips and chin. You crooned, wondering what he tasted like.

He collapsed next to you a second later, his chest rising and falling in the same rhythm as your own. You didn’t touch him, didn’t turn your head to look at him as the shame settled over you. You didn’t quite regret it, but you knew it had been wrong. And you were fearful over his thoughts on this. You didn’t want to know what he was thinking.

You both laid there on the floor, the room filled with the sound of the grandfather clock from below as you simmered in your shared mistake. There was no going back.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington x female!reader #Steve Harrington x female reader #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington x reader smut #Steve Harrington pseudocest #Steve Harrington x stepsister!reader #Steve Harrington x stepsis!reader #Kinktober #Kinktober 2024

593 notes · View notes

miniseokminnies · 10 months ago

Text

deserve it —- x.mh

♡ pairing: xu minghao x fem!reader ♡ genre: roommates to lovers ♡ wc: 1.5k ♡ warnings: 18+ MDNI, oral [f. receiving], possessiveness, descriptions of female anatomy, dom!hao, jealousy

“You’re wearing that?” Your roommate, Minghao, hissed incredulously, not even looking up from his book.

“What do you mean,” you pouted at him, “you didn’t even look” swiftly attempting to snatch the book from him, his hands gripping instantly, causing it to slip from yours. He smiled at the attempt and closed the book, two of his slender fingers sliding between the pages, holding his place for him to return to after your little tantrum was over.

“What I mean, y/n,” he took in your form from over his reading glasses, “is: will he appreciate you in it?” the combination of the question and the way his eyes lingered just slightly, almost not enough to notice, on how your dress hugs your curves, made you flush.

“I—-“ you hesitated, “what?” is the best you could settle on, in the years Minghao and yourself cohabitated, mostly for money saving and convenience purposes, he has never said anything like this to you. A heat crept up Minghao’s neck, and he attempted to rub it away with his free hand, he knew he had said too much this time. He opened his mouth to attempt to come up with some lame excuse, but a knock on the door took the words away from him.

“Never mind,” he smiled slightly, “have fun y/n, call me if you need anything,” and with that he opened his book and continued reading.

***

The date was going terribly. This guy was nice enough, but your mind was elsewhere. He was currently droning on about his degree in finance, which in your current state you couldn’t care less about.

Why did Minghao say that, and why did he say it like that. You replayed the way his eyes raked down your frame, almost too subtle to realize what was happening. Does he do that often and you’ve just never noticed?

“Are you okay?” the man who was actually across the table, actually on a date with you pulled you out of your thoughts. You had just started to push the vegetables on your plate around with your fork.

“Uh…” you looked up at him, who was looking at you expectantly, “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just not feeling the best” which wasn’t technically a lie.

“Oh!” he nodded, “let me get the check, I’ll get you home, I wouldn’t want you feeling worse because you stayed out here with me”

He was a nice guy, too bad this wasn’t going to work out.

***

“Xu Minghao” you threw open his bedroom door. He sat up in bed, his hair falling in his eyes, taking his headphones off. He took in the sight of you, still in your dress, fuming in the doorway to his bedroom.

“You’re home early,” he pointed out, as you walked further into his room.

“Yeah!” you threw your hands up dramatically, “Because of you!” you got close enough to poke him in the chest, “what the fuck did you mean by that”

“By what?” his eyes lowered to your finger, still prodding his chest, “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Yes, you do,” you almost growled, pushing your finger into his chest slightly more forcefully, “you have to tell me what you meant.” He reached up and closed his lithe fingers around your single one, eyes traveling from where your hands met to your eyes.

“Beg” he said simply. The single word had heat pooling in your stomach and color flooding your cheeks.

“What?” you squeaked trying to avoid the intense eye contact.

“You heard me” he lowered his voice, “beg”

“Minghao….” he looked at you, waiting, “please tell me what you meant…” you whispered hesitantly. He dropped your hand, which fell to your side, as if it weighed a thousand pounds. He then swiftly gathered your hair at the nape of your neck and pulled until your head tilted up, forcing you to look at him.

“I need you to really show me you want to hear this,” his breath fanned over your face, you didn’t even realize he had gotten so close to you, “because once it’s said there’s no going back” he searched your eyes frantically for understanding. You simply nodded, “ask again”

“Minghao, I need to know,” you whined. The heat in your stomach was undeniable at this point, and unconsciously you squeezed your thighs together, “I need to know why you said those things earlier,” his grip in your hair tightened, “and why you looked at me like that”

“Oh” the flush in his cheeks was back, “Y/n, was he worth it?” he asked, “did he deserve to see you in that pretty dress that you’ve been saving for something special?” You shook your head, honestly surprised that he remembered, “use your words, baobei”

“I don’t know Hao” your hands found purchase on his thighs, he moved to the edge of the bed and dangled his feet off the side and pulled you to stand between his knees, “I couldn’t think about anything but what you said,” his hand dropped out of your hair and moved to take a fistful of the fabric of your skirt instead,

“Good” his other hand mirrored its opposite, “I want to be the only reason you wear this dress, I want to see it on you, but y/n, god right now all I really want is to see it on the floor of my bedroom” pulling you as close as possible his plush lips crash into yours. To say you were surprised would be an understatement, but not that you were complaining. His lips moved feverishly while his careful fingers found the zipper on the back. You shivered as the cool air hit your exposed back as he unzipped the dress painfully slowly.

The dress pooled around your feet as he let it fall off of you. He pulled away from your lips and took in the sight of you, wearing a lacy matching bra and underwear set. “You were going to let him fuck you” he muttered knowingly, “you never fuck on the first date”

“This wasn’t the first date”

“He deserved a second date, and he could’ve even had you” he smirked, “I messed things up pretty bad” before you even had time to think he was pulling you up onto his bed and flipping you so you were under him. He took his time, worshiping, kissing, licking and biting. You could feel your panties sticking to your pussy at this point and you were desperate for some relief. A whine escaped your lips as you once again squeezed your thighs together. You heard Minghao click his tongue, before he was taking your panties off.

He looked at your glistening cunt, all wet and ready for him. Lowering himself to greet you with his tongue, he never broke eye contact with you. Until he licked the first fat stripe, getting a taste of you. At this, your eyes screwed shut. Minghao had no trouble finding your clit, he attached his lips to it and began to suck. A breathy moan escaped you, and as if spurred on by the reaction Minghao began slowly swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. Your hand flew to his hair and tugged at the longer pieces at the nape of his neck. You earned a moan into your pussy in return, the vibrations making the coil in your stomach tighten.

“Do that again,” he begged, breathlessly, before returning his tongue to its duties. You did as you were told, pulling his hair a little harder this time. You felt Minghao line up two fingers at your entrance and slowly slip them inside.

Somehow despite never doing anything like this together before, Minghao seemed to know your body, he found the spongy spot inside of you and curled his fingers to reach it. He slowly pumped his fingers, in and out, in tandem with his ruminations on your clit. You were quickly becoming undone, and Minghao could tell by the way you were bucking your hips.

He took his mouth away from your cunt, and the cool air hitting you made you whine. He moved back so he could watch his fingers disappear inside you. He felt the wetness drip down his fingers as he added a third.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers” he watched as you picked up your pace, desperately trying to reach the rapidly approaching high. Your moans grew desperate as you moved your hips, the drag of his slender fingers feeling delicious on your walls, “He never deserved to see you like this, only me”

“H-Hao” you desperately called.

“I know” he watched your hips sputter, “Cum on my fingers, baobei” that was all you needed for the coil in your stomach to snap. Your eyes shut so tight you were seeing stars, and practically screaming for Minghao.

He slowly removed his fingers and ran to go get supplies to clean you up. Neither of you really knew what this meant, but what Minghao did know was that he liked the visual of your dress on the floor when he came back with a towel and a glass of water.

#xu minghao x reader #xu minghao smut #the8 x reader #the8 smut #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #minghao smut #minghao imagines #xu minghao imagines #svt smut #minghao #the8 #the8 imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #bennie’s works

904 notes · View notes

shmpxx · 1 year ago

Text

THE TERRIBLE EGOIST — i.y

⛤ isagi yoichi x fem! reader

The popular football player rejected you and didn’t expect you to get over him so easily. If you liked him before he can get you to like him again.

cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampie(s). oral (f. receiving). jerk isagi. dub-con. rough sex. pet names (baby, pretty, princess). finger sucking. marking. overstimulation. multiple orgasms + mention of multiple rounds. pussy drunk isagi. college au. intoxication. mentions of alcohol. +18!

wc: 2.9k

Isagi yoichi was the biggest egoist of them all. His popularity of being the best football player on the team at a university he attends and of course his good looks that kept his reputation up and the girls in line. He couldn’t simply ruin that with having girlfriend or anything that had to do with dating. He had only one thing to be stressed about and that was football. Though it sure wasn’t a problem if he just had his fun.

He was use to it, rejecting girls because he wants to focus on his upcoming games and he had no time for relationships. That didn’t stop them from at least trying again once or twice, maybe more than that. No one could get over him, that’d be impossible in his egotistic mind. Even people are to be warned not to be messed with him because he would easily tell you he doesn’t do that kind of “stuff” after just him making out with you 30 seconds ago.

He’s not mean about it though, he wouldn’t tell you to straight up thats he’s just not interested in you instead he says it sincerely even though he knows what he’s doing and how to do it, letting them down easy he knows they always come back anyways. Isagi loathes in the feeling of being adored, if he could get it from his fans he can get it from somewhere else and a different audience. How else could he keep himself entertained with the ladies?

“I really do like you Isagi” Then there was a long pause when you waited for him to answer, he rubs the back of his neck and stares at the ground before he could give you the bad news.

“‘M sorry I don’t really do relationships, I just want to focus on my career and I don’t want ‘dating’ to get in the way of that..we can always be friends though?”

You were confused, you don’t get it? He was flirting and teasing you for weeks. You were hanging out a lot, people would’ve been convinced you both were dating. You never kissed or held hands but surely it had to be obvious. Your friends convinced you that he liked you back, no guy would act that way towards a girl he doesn’t like or wouldn’t want to take things further with? Was he just leading you on?

“Uh..yeah i understand...” you really didn’t, you wanted to ask him why but he would probably repeat what he just said.

Isagi sighs like he has not gone through many let downs and watch the disappointment of his victim. “No hard feelings?”

“Yeah..none”

Then it’s been a week since he hasn’t seen you. Usually they come back in a day or two in his book so why haven’t you? It shouldn’t stress him out about it, it’s just longer than he expected it to be. His stupid ego got the best of him and his way of thinking that he could have every girl begging on their knees for him.

Jealousy bites him in the back when he’s sees you talking to other guys especially the ones on his team, he shouldn’t be jealous? He doesn’t even like you, he’s the one who rejected you so why does it eat at him? He wasn’t focused on anyone but you not paying him no mind, he’ll walk by you expecting to connect eye contact but you’ll be chatting up with your friends like he doesn’t exist. Maybe he could try to get you to like him again to fill his ego, yeah that’s probably it. You guys never made out or had sex, that was maybe the problem and he just had to do that.

You slowly became irritated when he kept trying to talk to you though they were just failed conversations. You didn’t know why he was trying to talk to you and you were trying to avoid him, how else could you move on from him?

He invites you to a party for tonight as a start of a friendship he wanted to build with you hoping you weren’t still upset with him, your friends really wanted to go since his teammates would be there and you agreed taking a chance with Isagi. You had a gut feeling but you didn’t know whether it was good or bad, you just knew something was to come as he grins to himself when you said yes. A scheme he has planned behind his soft smile.

Isagi being an athlete, he wasn’t a drinker though he offered you one, another one, also two more. Honestly you stopped counting after the second. Perhaps it was the alcohol but you started to feel glad that you and Isagi come to an agreement to be friends. Maybe you were too harsh, maybe he genuinely wanted to be friends as you were trying to ignore him this whole time.

The way your hands started to feel clammy because he kept staring at you, you felt as if his gaze your burning into your skin, you felt nervous, rubbing your hands on your dress. Why are you feeling nervous? You don’t like him, well you used to. You tried to push the thoughts away that he is cute, no he was and isn’t still you don’t really like him? You wonder if it was just your drunken mind playing tricks on you or the feelings were coming back again and he can read you good.

“Don’t do that..” he tilts his head at you as if he were oblivious however he knows all too well. “Don’t do what?”

“You’re looking at me like...” you didn’t want to assume or flat out say it, you shrug because you didn’t know what to add on or decide not to jump to conclusions, Isagi laughs to himself.

He’s a good guy with no rude intentions, yet he’s leading you by the hand upstairs in a unoccupied room.

“Why are we in here?” You sat on the edge of the bed watching him shut the door behind him “it’s quieter for us” he sat right next to you, he didn’t leave space between you both he was so close his figure was towering over you and you can feel his body warmth emit on your arm. You don’t know why you didn’t ask him another question about you both here alone when the party is clearly downstairs.

His hand is rubbing your inner thigh, his fingers are carefully slipping up your dress and his lips softly brushes against yours so it wasn’t fully a kiss, you didn’t know if you should so you mutter “I thought we were friends now Isagi”

“We are..unless you like me now..?”

“I-i don’t know…” you rubbed your knees together

“We’ll see” he kisses you roughly, honestly he’s trying to at least bruise your lips. You try to take in as much breaths but he doesn’t allow you to, his tongue blocking your airway in your mouth and your breathing heavily through your nose.

As he’s basically consuming you, his hand that was placed in your inner thigh moved towards to your covered pussy. Your hands grasp his arm to stop his fingers massaging your folds through your underwear. When his lips began attacking your neck you whine out his name when you start to feel the heat increase throughout your body, you felt you were gonna melt.

You smelt good as he placed wet kisses on your neck, sucking lightly on your skin leaving colored hues and moved onto another blank space of your skin he could mark. Isagi never thought it’d be easy to get you here, he might’ve thought wrong that you’d be difficult to get you where he needed you to be and he’s only kissing your neck and playing with your pussy behind your panties.

He presses lightly on it and you let out a shattered breath “Right here?” And he starts to rub your clit in circular motion. If you were sober without an drop of alcohol you probably wouldn’t let Isagi have his way with you, but you’re moaning under your breath, your jutting your hips against his hand, your eyes fluttered when he reaches under you rubbing the outside of your cunt.

Your mind getting slightly fuzzy you decided to fall onto your back on the soft bed when you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore. “Come on baby you can’t give up on me now” he takes off your shoes before he climbed onto the bed to spread your legs open.

“I can’t” you shake your head though you’re not kicking back to stop, you let him feel up your sides because his touch is warm and made you feel good, it had to be the alcohol lingering in your system or your feelings for Isagi are starting to come back even though you were helping yourself get over him before you came to this party ��I just want you to like me princess” sounding sincere when he places a quick kiss on your lips, he lifts up your dress over your stomach to pull your panties down your hips and off your legs.

He’s caressing your thighs, riling you up and pampering kisses between your inner legs his face drawing dangerously close to your bare pussy. His hands push your thighs nearly to your stomach, giving you a peck on your cunt and the warm wet muscle ghost over your cunt making your breathing harder than it should be.

It was like he was making out with your pussy, his lips and tongue burying deep in your pussylips, his arms were locked around your thighs so you couldn’t pull away, you could only move your lower legs and you writhed on the bed in bliss and constantly moaned his name. “Ah! Isagi!..hah!” You could be as loud as you wanted because the music was loud enough to hide your pathetic whines.

Your hands grip the sheets underneath you until his tongue flicked your clit, sucking on it slow your hand reaches for his dark hair, your fingers tangling through his locks at the top of his head. “Oh-my g-ah!…” you sputtered, he’s still eating you out like a hungry man.

He’s lost into licking and sucking on your sweet pussy, your fingers tugging on his hair and moaning his name is making his dick hard, he’s growing amusement of his licks that are long and slow, dragging up on your clit and his lips wrap around it. Your hips are moving up and down, grinding on his face. If he could have you sit on his face he would but he needed you to cum, cum on his lips.

You started to become more squirmy when you feel your cunt twitch and your clit burning to cum when he sucks harder. Your hand through his hair tightening and your moans were becoming high pitched.

You rolled your head back moaning his name when you feel yourself cum on his mouth, his lips wouldn’t detach from your fluttering pussy and continued to use his mouth until he was ready to be done. After a bit though he didn’t want to work you up on another orgasm so he halted himself from eating you further more.

“You taste so good princess y’know that?” He comes up on top of you and to offer you a sloppy kiss whilst he’s unbuttoning his pants to pull out his hardened cock. You brought your hands behind his neck to keep kissing you more, the taste of yourself lingering on his tongue. you were already defeated when you first came into this room and you let him feel you up, you wanted to beat yourself up for it but you’re too dazed out of your mind to care, kissing Isagi now when you never got to before, you just wanted him in the moment.

Isagi gave himself a couple strokes, he opens your legs for more entry and with no warning your tight walls are being pushed aside by his cock when he slowly sheaved himself in, you gasp loudly by the disturbance of his dick intruding your pussy. Your breathing was shaky and Isagi hisses when you grip him tight and didn’t bother giving you a chance to process his dick inside you when he starts his hungry thrusts.

“Isagi-”

“Sorry princess..i gotta fuck you now” he was so harsh and fast, he was bullying you. The egoists cock was rubbing so relentlessly in your pussy, you’re moaning so much and each time he makes sure he slams his cock deep. He squeezes your tits and he wasn’t soft with them either, he was kneading them in his hand like hard dough.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you and here I thought you didn’t like me anymore..do you like me now? I know you do” you didn’t have to say yes, he already answered for you, you were too overwhelmed to speak though you could whine with your fingers slightly over your mouth so you could breathe.

He moves your hand out of your face as his thumb slips between your lips into your mouth, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your tongue. “That’s it baby suck on it” your lips wrap around his thumb just like how he had demanded.

You hummed with his thumb in your mouth, batting your pretty eyelashes at him and he grits his teeth with his stamina rising even more from the way you look at him, like you were purposely doing it to get him to fuck you even harder like as he was pounding into you anyways. He couldn’t let you get to him, it had to be the other way around.

“Looking at me like that pretty?-ah!” His cock jerked inside, knowing he was about to release his cum the more he constantly pushed his dick in and out of you. His jaw hung open, panting and moaning when he feels his nerves on fire. As you were about to touch yourself he rubbed your clit with his wet thumb that was settling in your mouth so you both can cum together.

“‘m gonna cum! ‘m gonna cum Isagi!” Isagi is so rough with you, him adding onto more to build your orgasm intensively circling your sweet bud.

Shock takes over his face when your legs wrap around his waist and you pleaded him “please cum inside me! Please Isa-!” Did you just beg him to? He was going to anyway though he didn’t expect you to practically be desperate for it that your legs are secured around his waist. Fuck, why did his heart just sink?

“Y-yeah, I’ll cum right in you, just for you princess” he growled, his last thrust he sunk deep into your spasming walls and his pushed down on your clit. Your eyelids twitched feeling his cum empties in your womb, your body quivered, it felt like stars were floating everywhere around you. “‘ts feels good..f-feels ‘s good” you whined.

Isagi bit his bottom lip gazing at your pretty tired face, This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, he couldn’t keep up his ego anymore. He grew hard again and the only thoughts running through his head was wanting to fuck you again.

How long has it been? Two, four rounds, more? Both your bodies would completely stripped off of clothes, sweat mixing together that his hair was slightly damp. The music still booming loud as ever outside meaning people were still here which you both had completely forgotten since you were both gone into drowning in pleasure. Isagi is still in between your legs, pounding into your swollen pussy that had a brimful of his cum because he came so many times like he was still a starving caveman needing more.

Isagi is so deep into your pussy he forgot what was his motive the whole time, you’re mewling for him to stop but damn you look so pretty, why did he reject you again? He couldn’t even remember anything before he got into this room with you because of the delight of your hot cunt had him hooked. His arms beside your head as he watched you cry from the sensitivity of your previous orgasms he drew out of you. His heart fluttering in his chest when you wrap your arms around his neck and whimper his name.

You both couldn’t think correctly but just thinking about how much it feels like heaven and the need to cum again.

“‘m about to cum again Isagi!” You repeated again before, He nodded while he was also cum again and damn he was so out of energy of pulling orgasm after orgasm, his breaths were shattered, his thrusts were sloppy. His tongue hanging from his mouth like he had fight to finish. “‘m cumming too-fuck!” Another addictive feeling washing over you both at the same time, once again he gives you another bundle of his cum.

Isagi finally caught his breath and noticed your leg’s couldn’t stop trembling. “F-fuck Isagi, I’m shaking…” you murmured. His stomach was in knots and not because he had just came but he was going against his own rules he made up the beginning. His evil scheme had failed when he came down to kiss you again but it was softer, didn’t bother pulling out, he rose back up with straight up determination in his eyes.

“Be my girlfriend..”

#blue lock smut #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi smut #isagi x reader #bllk isagi #bllk x reader #bllk smut #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x y/n #isagi x you

2K notes · View notes

worldsaparted · 7 months ago

Note

makeout session with daniel larusso ?? where it's very sweet and soft and passionate yet heated and heavy at the same time ?? if you're okay with it of course —♡

yes of course! thank u for requesting <3

storage room - daniel larusso

as senior year nearly came to an end, every class became pointless. y/n sat in her own class, sighing in complete and utter boredom as she leaned her head against her arm, tapping her pencil with the other.

mr. wilson loved to go on rants about his own personal life, and he was doing so now - it was around 43 minutes into that where y/n’s view shifted from him to daniel who discreetly yet purposely walked past her classroom window. her eyes widened and her brows furrowed. ‘what?’ she mouthed, watching him point to the indoor hallways.

he fixed his hair, attempting to act natural as he walked by, and he then pulled out a piece of paper that he clearly had just put together. y/n’s eyes scanned the paper, her eyes squinted as she studied it. “meet me.” she read it aloud, in a small whisper under her breath and gave a tilt of her head before reluctantly nodding to daniel who held his hands together as if begging.

“mr wilson?”

so within five minutes, y/n was out of her classroom due to her terrible “period cramps” that she couldn’t seem to get rid of. she held her class books, glancing around in search for daniel and as she watched down the hallway - she was caught off guard by the storage room door cracking open, and she gave an awkward glance over just in case it was a staff member.

thankfully, it wasn’t. daniel fully opened it and held his hand out, pulling her in and shutting the door behind her. his eyes lit up at the sight of her, and y/n gave a quick smile before speaking up. “what happen-”

her question was cut off by daniel’s parted lips against hers, he helped her remove her backpack and placed it by his before continuing to kiss her, gently yet continuously. his lips unable to leave hers.

daniel’s hands met her waist, rubbing her sides as he kissed her, sighing against her lips in pure content. “i missed you.” he admitted, smiling into the kiss and he let out a soft groan once her hand met the back of his head to play with his hair.

y/n wanted to respond, but really - she couldn’t seem to do anything but kiss him back. her insides turned at the way his hands travelled her body, and the way his teeth bit her lower lip in order to give himself an entrance to her mouth.

daniel slipped his tongue in without any hesitation at all, and he was pleasantly surprised to feel hers clash with his own.

something about them nearly finishing their senior year together intensified everything. they were about to go out into the real world together, and nothing excited the two more than the thought of living with one another, being with one another.

he muttered casual i love you’s against her lips throughout the kiss that she reciprocated, and at one point - he did pull back. his hair was now disheveled, and her lipstick was slightly smeared against his lips - though still, they admired one another. daniel fixed her hair, pushing a strand back behind her ear. a smile crept onto his lips, and her face burned at the sight of him gazing at her like so.

this time, y/n leaned in. she pressed a desperate open mouthed kiss against his lips and daniel sighed into it, his hands grabbing her waist firmly before they travelled down to her ass, softly rubbing her and smiling as he did so.

y/n kept her hands firmly around his neck, keeping herself as close as she could. it was heavy, rough kisses that came from both of them, unable to really control the way they felt now. daniel took his left hand off of her to then slip under her blouse, and caress her back until his hand stopped at her bra clip. after a few seconds, his hands continued to roam under her shirt, and y/n’s lips left his to kiss a trail against his jawline, softly.

daniel groaned in pleasure, and he muttered the smallest, “don’t stop.” under his breath, and to that - y/n only continued, making her way down to his neck. he leaned down for her to get a better position. she was pinned against the shelves, and his head hung just over her shoulder, leaning against hers.

she kissed him tenderly, leaving small marks for him and only him to find. daniel wanted nothing more than to be at his house with her, or in his car - but they were stuck here and at that fact, he cursed himself.

he began to kiss her head, making his way down to the back of her neck, and he nibbled there, his hands rubbing her waist firmly, holding her against him.

soon, their kisses were cut off by the sounds of the school bell ringing, and they had both pulled away, groaning and staring at the door before slowly meeting eyes again.

“can i take you back to mine?” daniel asked, breathless. he earned a quick nod from his girlfriend, and immediately, he grabbed their bags, his hand clinging onto hers as he pulled her out of the room, ignoring the glances from their peers.

432 notes · View notes

roarieluz · 1 year ago

Text

Who Do You Smell? (Sebastian Sallow x Reader)

Summary: Sebastian Sallow has had a crush on Y/N for a while now, this isn't news to him but when a strong batch of amortentia is made for potions class it is hard to keep his mind clear of anything that isn't about you and what he wants to do to you.

Warning: contains mild smut as this is about Sebastian's fantasies while in class.

Rushed footsteps trekked along the cobblestone hallways of Hogwarts, echoing into excessive sounds of pitter-patter and endless conversations.

“We have an exam…TODAY?!”

“Did you hear about what happened in Hogsmeade yesterday?”

“You’ll never guess who I saw Poppy Sweeting with!”

Countless students made almost a sea of cloaks as they tried to make it to their next class on time without any pestering ghosts or moving stairs to slow them down. It was almost daunting to try and part the waves of children and teens, Sebastian thought. It was so daunting that he couldn’t help but at least acknowledge the nagging pit of a feeling that told him he would be better off droning away in the undercroft for an hour or two. Alas, Headmaster Black had already warned him that if he missed one more lesson there would be worse things than detention waiting for him.

How dramatic.

The Slytherin made his way to class nonetheless, not due to the threats of expulsion but rather the company that awaited him. If he had ditched, Ominis would give him a terrible earful no doubt, which would be a shame as that would get in the way of all the other trouble their little group could find themselves in. There was also the issue of leaving his potion’s partner, Y/N alone. How could he leave her all by her lonesome? After all, who would give her quippy one-liners to help pass the time in that dreary class? Gareth Weasley? The thought alone almost made him laugh.

His feet paused, finding himself now in front of the open door to the potions classroom. He always needed a moment before trudging into the smoke-filled haze of a room. It was always hotter than the other classes, almost on par with the humidity that suffocated him in herbology. Deep in the classroom, he could already spot his partner despite the slight fog between them. She was talking to Ominis, who sat at the desks in front of them. Her cloak was off, he noted, thrown to the opposite side of their table like a forgotten rag. He took in the sight of her leaning against the table to whisper something into his friend's ear. Her long sleeves rolled up to help combat against the heat that radiated from the cauldron centered on their table.

This is why I come to this class.

“Sebastian! There you are!” Y/N said as she looked up to see him still standing in the hallway. She waved him over with a warm smile still plastered on her lips, a smile she always had reserved for him…at least he’d like to think so.

“Just in time too.” Ominis commented, his tone comparable to a mother.

“Yes, yes, hold your applause.” Sebastian playfully replied as he took his seat next to Y/N, his tower of books hitting the hardwood of the table with a thud. She rolled her eyes at him but the smile didn’t fade away from her lips. It was a look he knew all too well, in fact, he looked forward to it. What could he say to make her roll her eyes in the back of her head? What comment could his mind come up with to make her so facetious? It was a fun game of his, one where he had to carefully walk the line if he wanted to keep her beautiful smile in his sight.

“Sit down, class is about to start.” Professor Sharp announced with a deadpan. He walked in front of his desk, leaning on the stable wood as he stared into the classroom, noting who was present or not. To his surprise Sebastian sat with a smug grin next to Y/N, even giving the professor a little wave, as if he knew he was shocked to see him. He wasn’t amused by the notion, but kept on with the class, not wanting to give him any more attention to his childish antics.

“Would anyone like to explain to me why they might think this month might be one of the most dangerous months of the year?” Sharp asked as he studied the fifth-year’s expressions of puzzlement.

Sebastian raised his eyebrow at the question. Dangerous? What could make February more dangerous than any other month of the year?

He looked over at Y/N, confusion all over his face, hoping to get insight from her. She’s only faced more danger than anyone else in the room besides perhaps the professor himself. If anyone would know, surely it would be her.

She simply met his expression with a quizzical look of her own, shrugging her shoulders stiff, not a single thought to the question. He quickly looked in front to see Ominis, hopefully, he might know instead then. His best friend had his eyes closed and arms crossed as if he was in deep thought….or in a deep sleep. Whatever the case was it was obvious he too was left in the dark like the rest of the class.

Being so deep in thought Sebastian hadn’t realized the sweat that started to form on his brow. The heat in this room got to him a little earlier than he expedited it to. It was almost suffocating and he had only been here for a couple of minutes.

“Nobody? Not a single soul has one idea as to why,” Sharp continued to ask, hoping for someone to at least try and spit out a wrong answer. However, only the sound of bubbling cauldrons and burning crackles from the flames answered him back.

“Amortentia,” the professor simply let out a heavy sigh that oozed with disappointment as he pushed himself off his desk to make his way around the class. Sebastian mentally facepalmed

Of course, February! Valentine's Day was in this blasted month.

“I only teach this potion with its antidote. So don’t get funny ideas for next week,” Sharp warned his students, pointing at every student in his room. “Every year a handful of you try to use a love potion on some sorry soul and every year they get in trouble. So you will know what's good for you if you have any sense.” He added before going into more detail about the potion itself.

He talked about how it was formed…the ingredients they would need…the order to brew. Sebastian heard the words.

Truly.

But as Sharp’s lecture rang on in the background Sebastian’s eyes wandered to his left. Y/N sat there looking up at their professor with half-closed eyelids, her long lashes hanging over her beautiful eyes. She rested her head on her closed fist, her body slightly turned to face Sebastian though her attention still faced Sharp. She thoughtlessly played with her hair, her expression almost dreamy as if she was openly lost in her mind. The air started to feel heavier with the murky haze that filled the room the longer he looked at her. He pulled at his collar as he noticed a dollop of sweat sliding down from Y/N’s collarbone into her blouse. Her cleavage taunting him.

The heat of the room practically boiling in him now with such an image of her.

“I’m bloody hot, are you?” Y/N asked in a hushed whisper as she attempted to fan herself, she glanced at Sebastion when she noted his stare.

“I always am..” He responded without hesitation.

Y/N rolled her eyes again as she had before class started, playful and casual. He wondered what she would look like if he was able to roll her eyes for a different reason. He imagined her leaning over their shared desk looking more disheveled than appropriate. Her pretty eyes rolling in the back of her head as she lets out a deep moan, her lips still forming a devious smile. The thought makes him feel a twitch below his belt as he realizes a small ache had been forming the instant he saw her today.

Sebastian had always had a crush on Y/N, this wasn’t exactly something new to him. There had been plenty of times he worked himself over just by looking at you. Though he would like to think that he would build himself over the entire day… definitely not in just 5 minutes.

“As you line up to smell the Amortentia in the cauldron on my desk you may notice the…. effects…of the potion. Once you leave the classroom they will subside since you haven’t drank the potion. This stuff is so strong, the smell alone can affect you.” Sharp informed the class.

Of course, the potion.

Sebastian awkwardly coughed as he stood up, thankful for his cloak. He was sure every boy in the class must be praising the heavy fabric if the potion was as strong as the professor said. Y/N, Sebastian, and Ominis made their way in line to smell the concoction, waiting their turn. Sebastian noticed that while a couple of people mentioned what they smelled, there were a few who kept that information to themselves. He wondered what it was that made them so quiet. Either way, the damned thing smelt different to each person for some reason. Wasn’t it just meant to make you fall in love with someone? If only he would have been able to pay attention to what Sharp had been saying but he had been a tad distracted by his partner.

Speaking of which, Y/N was the first of the little trio to stand in front of the rather old-looking cauldron. She closed her eyes as she let her hands help waft the smoke toward her. As she took a deep breath in, her eyes shot open as if she had recognized the smell almost instantly.

“What is it? What do you smell?” Sebastian asked with curiosity oozing from his voice.

“I smell…old books, burning candles, and butterbeer.” She said softly as she glanced at the two boys, a blush creeping up her ears as her eyes met Sebastian.

“How quaint.” Ominis commented through a grin as if he knew precisely who smelt like such a strange combination.

Sebastian didn’t think that could be the smell of love though he didn’t exactly know what he would say the scent of love would be like but definitely not old books. Perhaps floral like roses or sweet like cherries? Love in a bottle had to be stereotypical, it made the most sense to him.

Sebastian stepped up, pulling the lid up and letting the fumes wash over him. The mist of the potion overcame him as if he had just walked into a sauna. He felt an urge tingle from the tips of his toes to the very ends of his hair. A rush so strong in his body he could practically count his pulse from the zealous beats his heart made, throbbing in what felt like his throat.

Her.

He could only smell her.

He gulped trying to breathe in anything that wasn’t this potion's musk. The smell was sweet and heavy just like how he thought but it was more than he could handle. He could sink in the delight of it all as if he could be happily drowned in it. He imagined that this would be the very smell that could suffocate him while he was on his knees between your legs.

“Heaven” he blurted out carelessly as the thought of eating you out filled his mind.

“Very descriptive,” Ominis replied, helping Sebastian to get out of his head and back into reality.

“My thoughts exactly. What does heaven even smell like? That could be anything” Y/N asked with a furrowed brow.

Sebastian paused, trying to put into words what the woman in front of him smelt like. It was hard to put into words. The smell was more like flashes of constant memories that reminded him of Y/N rather than what she smelt like every day.

He could smell the rain, the petrichor that radiates from the grass; the image of you running in the storm with him, white blouse drenched and clinging to your chest, raindrops dripping from your hair, the sound of your laughter. What a day that had been, so carefree, so full of joy for just being in the mommet. He kept that memory close to him; a loop he would play when his thoughts went to dark and dreary places.

In the next instant, he could smell the scorch marks from flames nipping at the cobblestone in the undercroft. The heavy smoke poisoned his lungs and filled his mind with such intoxication over the past. The day he had taught you confringo lingering in the back of his mind.

It had been one of the first times he had gotten close to you.

The memory of being pressed against your back, Sebastian’s face mere inches from your soft hair-your locks tickling the tip of his nose. His hand had been wrapped around your wrist as he helped with your wand movements. You had looked at him so innocently then, putting all your faith in him even though you had barely known each other. He could still see the small smudge of soot smudged on your cheek and the way you looked up at him with such big eyes for guidance.

The memory had only gotten sweeter like wine after seeing you master his spell. Seeing you cast it with ease, power, and confidence; that alone would always send shivers down his spine amid battle. He would always be a part of you when you cast that spell…forever.

The smell warped into something else entirely, putting him off guard until he was able to realize the mystery aroma was incense: warm, woody, and thick. It was the same kind that Professor Onai used in her classroom the day she taught palmistry. He had held your hands that day, his large hands engulfing yours in warmth. It had been the perfect excuse to touch you then, so freely and openly with everyone watching. His fingers brushed against your skin softly, his touch could barely be described as a graze but the tension was more than palpable. He had read your palm that day, hoping he could see himself in your loveline. He believes that he did. Even if he didn’t he would find a way to change it to make it so.

“Well, it's certainly not butterbeer,” Sebastian finally responded, putting himself back in the present.

Y/N blushed, flustered by the comment before whacking him on his shoulder. “I should have never told you,” she responded in a huff, making her way back to their desk.

Sebastian followed, chuckling at her reaction but also thankful he was able to avoid having to explain what heaven smells like.

“Does anyone want to know what it smells like to me?” Ominis asked himself as he stood in front of the cauldron alone; the sarcasm and annoyance drowning his words as he found his way back to his desk. Professor Sharp stood before the classroom, waiting for everyone to get their bearings again.

“It seems like some of you are rather open to telling everyone what you find most attractive…that or just the smell of the person you seem to find yourself in a new entanglement in with this week..how brave of you,” Sharp commented with what must be his attempt at an amused grin before going back to his solemn state.

Sebastian glanced at Y/N, wondering who it was for her. Who smelt like old books and could still have her head over heels for them? She had never even brought up liking a person before. His hands formed into fists on the desk, images flashing of someone else being with her the way he daydreamed. He couldn’t even bear the thought and had to quickly stop before he lost himself.

He heard Professor Sharp go into further detail about the potion before teaching how to make the antidote for amortentia. At least that was as much as Sebastian could recall, he knows that was the subject but simply couldn’t tell you how to make the damned thing. His attention was more on you than the class itself. He needed to get out of this classroom and fast before he reached his limits. Even with the cauldron covered the smell seeped and filled the classroom, working its magic on everyone in it. He couldn’t even imagine how he would be if he actually drank it. He understands why people who had been under its effects would practically throw themselves at the person in question now.

You sat there a complete tease and were none the wiser. The way you grabbed onto your skirt from your thigh, hiking up the fabric higher than it was before. He wanted nothing more than to put his hand under the hem and pull it up high until he got a good view of you bent over this very desk. He wanted to push you against the hardwood and pull your hair. He wanted to devour you in front of everyone, to lose himself in you and all that was good. Sebastian loosened his tie, the small material barely knotted as he tried to control his breath.

“That’s all there is to teach. By the end of class, I expect two adequate potions…the Amortentia and the cure from each table. You may begin.” Sharp directed as he made his way to his desk in the back of the room.

There was a wave of silence that crashed over the classroom as the students side-eyed each other. It would seem that no one had paid attention to Sharp’s well-planned and eloquent lecture on brewing love potions. The professor didn’t seem to give it any mind though, he was too involved with whatever he was writing. Sebastian couldn’t imagine that the man was clueless about the tension in the room though. Perhaps he was secretly amused that this situation of all things was the only way he was able to make the classroom stunned with silence.

“Would you be upset with me if I told you, I have no idea how to brew this potion,” Sebastian decided to tell Y/N outright. There was no point in pretending; she would see through him anyways if he tried.

She suppressed a chuckle in response as she stood up and pointed him in the direction of the board. “Not at all. Luckily for us, the instructions are on the board. Come on, let's get the ingredients.” She explained as she stood up and waved him over to follow her. He leaped out of his seat, quick and careless, almost like he was a dog who was taunted by the prospect of a treat. Thoughts of being alone with Y/N in the supply closet made his heart race to deadly rhythms and his palms slightly sweaty. He couldn’t help but let his imagination run wild with fantasies of what could transpire in such a small enclosed space.

The thought of your soft thighs wrapped around his waist while he got to have handfuls of your ass to keep you steady. Messy, hungry kisses that vibrated with moans. Your hands tussled in his hair or roaming up and down his chest. He could feel himself twitch every time he imagined you bouncing up and down against him, grinding him into pure bliss.

Merlin. Could he handle himself with such a temptation of being with you in such a place?

Each step he took across the classroom felt like an eternity, his body growing with anticipation that coursed through his veins like wildfire. His eyes were glued to the sway of your hips as you led the way.

When they finally reached the door, Sebastian fumbled with the handle, hands almost shaking as his mind was still lost in the realm of his fantasies. He could practically hear you screaming his name at this moment. The sound looped over and over again in his head, short-circuiting his brain until he was able to hear a click. The door creaked open, revealing a small, dimly lit space filled with shelves of potions ingredients, and other various supplies.

Sebastian stepped in behind you, trying to contain his desires while his body betrayed him, buzzing in hopeful anticipation of even just being grazed by you. A single touch would be enough to end his suffering at this point. The air felt heavy with scents of herbs that mixed in wonderfully with the smell of you, further fueling his senses.

“So…heaven you said.” Y/N awkwardly commented as she began to gather the required ingredients. Pulled out of his wicked daydreams Sebastian glanced at you with a raised eyebrow. “That is indeed what I said.”

“Are you ever going to elaborate on that?”

Sebastian stared at the shelves, trying to look lost. Shifting his weight back and forth as his hands skimmed the ingredients that were laid out in front of him. “Why so curious?”

“Well, I told you mine… it's only fair.”

“Have I ever been known to be fair?” Sebastian asked as he paused and looked down at you. You looked up at him sweetly, eyes big and bright, cheeks flushed, lips slightly apart. A tempting beautiful picture. He gulped down the need to jump you right then and there. A sad excuse for keeping his gentlemanly composure.

“Are you going to make me beg?” she asked softly.

Sebastian almost fainted. You? Begging him? Suddenly the thought of you on your knees in front of him flashed through his mind. He wondered just how he could make you beg. What filthy pleas could be heard from your lips? How desperate could you be for him? Was it anything like how he was for you now? He got lost in your beautiful eyes as he wondered.

“Would you beg for me?” his voice barely above a whisper as he asked her.

Y/N’s eyes grew wide, her cheeks turning into a deep shade of crimson. Sebastian watched as she stood there a mixture of what looked like mortification and vulnerability washing over her. As Sebastian took a step closer to her he saw how her blush intensified. Spreading like a delicate watercolor painting, the color seeped from her cheeks and extended to the tips of her ears…even down below under her blouse. He wondered how far her blush went.

“D-Don’t play with me, Sebastian,” Y/N replied as she tried to regain her composure. She faced the shelves once more, letting her hands touch anything that was in front of her.

“I would never.” He tried to follow her actions, hoping she didn’t notice how the last minute of their interaction would be the start of his dreams for the next month.

She scoffed at his response. “I know you’re just trying to deflect from the question. Why so secretive? Do you have a crush on someone and are just too embarrassed by it? You know I wouldn’t tell a soul.” she rambled as she picked up a mysterious vial. She looked at it as if she was more interested in the contents inside of it than the conversation but Sebastian could see through her act.

“Crush? I’m afraid it's gotten far past that.” Sebastian replied, freezing Y/N in her tracts if only for a moment. She placed the vial back in its rightful spot before reaching for another random object, much like Sebastian did in hopes of keeping him grounded in the situation. How far should he push this? Should he let the smell of this damned potion, the bottled intoxication of the girl in front of him, break down any walls he had built up in hopes that she would never know he was madly in love with her?

Their hands brushed against each other, sending a shock down to his toes that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The innocent act that was nothing but a soft caress, fanned the flames that were in him to dangerous heights, his yearning for her unbearable

“She’s bewitched me. Hexed me even…I’m sure of it.” He continued to say as he looked down at her. His hand frozen in his place against hers. If he moved now, there would be no grace in his actions. It was his last attempt at trying to keep himself composed.

He heard Y/N’s breath hitch in her throat.

“Do you really want to know?” He asked, giving her an escape but hoping she wouldn’t take it. She only nodded her head in response, unable to speak from the tension that’s now bubbled over in the small closet they were in.

“I smell the rain,” He began to say as he turned to face her.

“I smell fire” He took a step towards Y/N, closing the small gap.

“I smell incense.” His hands intertangled in yours, as he took a step forward, forcing you against the door, making sure no one could interrupt them. Your hands were well above you now as his fists pinned you in place.

“I smell you,” it barely came out as a whisper against the nape of your neck. “It’s all I can smell, even now. It suffocates me. Taunting me with ideas,” he continued, his voice low and dark. “Would you let me do those things to you?” He asked, moving his gaze so he could look at Y/N.

She looked like every fantasy he ever had of her. Under him, panting, wide-eyed, and flushed. He would keep this memory close to him, he knew instantly. Keep this image of her as nothing more than a self-indulgent treat for every night before he went to sleep.

“Is this when I should beg Seb?” Y/N let out in a single heavy breath.

He let out a groan at the sound of her nickname for him, his head falling to her shoulder so he could melt into her.

Fuck

Just hearing her say his name like that made his situation feel painful, making him harder than he ever had been in his entire life. He was scared to find out what would come of himself if he didn’t find a release soon.

“Do I have to beg to get my ingredients?” Ominis could be heard as he pounded on the door causing both Sebastian and Y/N to jump to the opposite side of the closet. Their friend walked into the small room, happy to be blind for once so that he didn’t have to see the sorry state the two were in.

“Congratulations on finding out you two are in fact in love with each other. The rest of the school has been waiting.” Ominis stated with annoyance. “Now can you grab me the things I need?”

#hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy reader insert #hogwarts legacy #sebastain sallow imagine #sebastian sallow reader insert #sebastian sallow #x reader #female reader #reader insert #hogwarts imagine #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc

1K notes · View notes

daisies-and-domming · 7 days ago

Note

Hiiii! Love your writing 😘😘 wondering if you wanted to write about mammon and a little pet play with a gentle soft Dom!AFAB Mc (or GN). Have a nice day!!!

It's Always Sunny With You (NSFW)

Summary: Mammon always takes his brothers’ harsh words head on - he doesn’t care what they have to say about him! But after overhearing his brothers talking behind his back, Mammon isn’t sure how much more he can take. Sometimes, your little puppy needs to be reminded how much you love him (and just how good he is).

Warnings: sub!mammon, dom!reader, hurt/comfort, starts out angsty with a capital A, swearing, pet play, reader calls mammon “puppy” and “pup”, mammon calls reader “master”, body worship, so so much praise

Let me know if you think I missed anything!

All characters are over 18 :)

– – –

Oh Mammon my sweet sweet boy :( So excited to be writing for him! He deserves all the love in the world, and sometimes he seems to forget that. Thank you so much for the request, I hope you enjoy! Sorry that there’s so much exposition, I can’t help myself sometimes…

– – –

Mammon put up with a lot.

This much was clear - as one of the seven rulers of hell, the second oldest at that, he had a lot on his plate. No matter how idiotic, or greedy, or in his own world he acts, he does really love his brothers (don’t you go telling any of them, now!).

Which made what was happening right now hurt so much more.

He knows he isn’t the world’s best older brother - hell, he could be a pretty terrible one at that - and the way he acted 99.9% of the time reflected that. Like all the times he’s pawned off some ridiculous anime figure of Levi’s (why have it if you’re just going to keep it in the box, huh?), or one of Satan’s first edition books, or one of Lucifer’s cursed records, or-… you get the point. He certainly has a greedy streak, but he can’t help it, okay? That’s his whole shtick, for crying out loud! Sure, he tends to gamble all the money he earned from pawning their stuff, but so what if he did? He always wins it all back eventually, anyhow. Especially if he has you - his lucky treasure - at the tables with him. He swears he always wins when you’re there to cheer him on.

But you weren’t here now, were you?

No one in this family had any idea of how to have a quiet conversation; Lucifer had eyes and ears in every nook and cranny anyways, so what was the point? It’s impossible to keep a secret in this house, so there really wasn’t any point in trying.

“-he doesn’t even treat them right, have you seen how unhappy they are when they’re with him?”

“And he’s so annoying, too. They don’t want to spend every breathing second with you, y’know?”

Immediately, tears blur his vision, and he picks up his pace. Stupid Satan and stupid Leviathan and stupid stupid Mammon. Do ya even love him? He wondered, fumbling his way into his room. Was he really just as bad as they were sayin’? He curled himself up on his bed, wrapped tight in the sheets, and sobbed quietly into his pillows. He knows he doesn’t deserve you - beautiful, kind, sweet, perfect you - it was inevitable that he would lose you. He never could hold on to treasure very long, anyways, how was he going to manage to keep one as precious as you? Who would want to stay with a greedy, annoying, clingy, disaster like him anyways? You were his everything, the reason the sun rose, the air he breathes, his most valued treasure. But you had so many people around you who loved you, who could love you better than him. Hell, you have the whole Devildom wrapped around your little human finger. Not to mention the angels who flock to you like you’re their reverie, and the shady sorcerer who insisted on taking you as his apprentice. All the powerful forces of the three Realms would come to your beck and call, so why would you want to have anything to do with someone like him?

Stupid, idiot Mammon. No one could ever love someone like you, anyways.

– – –

You sighed, trying your best to discreetly glance around the table. The brothers were rowdy as always, but one voice was missing - the voice of your boyfriend. While Mammon wasn’t always the most punctual, Beel had almost obliterated all the food already, and he hadn’t even come down yet to “grace the table with the Great Mammon’s presence”. Thinking of him made you smile at your food, but your smile didn’t last for long.

He’s never this late to dinner… you chewed the inside of your cheek, worried. I wonder if he’s okay?

“-MC, are you listening to me?”

You snap your head up from your plate, Lucifer’s piercing eyes staring you down. You flush, embarrassed, and scramble to respond.

“Y-yeah, yeah of course Lucifer! Just thinking about how dinner is so good, who made it tonight, haha? My compliments to the chef, they did a-”

“You’ve said enough. I could tell you weren’t present with us, anyways.” He glances at Mammon’s empty seat, and turns his eyes back to you. “It’s pretty obvious why.”

“Yuck, you guys are so gross!” Levi shouts, sticking his tongue out. “You know that’s normie behavior, right, MC? It’s so gross how you’re ‘in love’, or whatever-”

Lucifer rolls his eyes, ignoring Leviathan’s ranting. “Go check on him.”

You perk up, looking at him, surprised. “Really? Okay!”

Without as much as a second thought (much to the chagrin of the six brothers who were present at dinner) you throw together a plate of food and rush off to Mammon’s room. You wondered if he was sick (do demons get sick?), or maybe if he fell asleep - you knew he tended to stay out late, even on school nights. That can’t be right, you thought with a frown. He was with me last night.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost walk past his door. Double-taking, you take a few steps back and rap your knuckles on his door, to no response.

“Mammon?” Nothing.

“Hey Mammon, it’s MC! I brought you dinner, if you’d like it!”

Still nothing.

“Mammon, are you in there…?”

A muffled “Go ‘way!” rings out, and you drop your hand that had been knocking to your side.

“At least come get your dinner, you didn’t eat!” “‘m not hungry.”

You twist the handle, noticing he didn’t lock the door. “Alright, I’m coming in there-”

“No!” you get the door about halfway open before a force is pushing it back closed. You throw your foot in the doorframe, wincing as the door tries to slam closed through your foot. Taking a peek in, you notice the room is dark. You can make out the outline of a blanket, strewn on the floor (presumably in Mammon’s hurry to close the door on you), and about nothing else.

You push against the door, adamant this time. “Mammon, please, if you don’t want to talk to me about whatever happened yet, that’s fine, but please, at least take the food-”

The door opens just wide enough for Mammon to snatch the plate out of your hands. You don’t even see him, really - just the blur of his arm reaching around the door, and the feeling of the door once again trying to close through your foot.

“I took the food, ya can go now-”

“Did I do something wrong?” He falls silent at your words, and you go on. “I’m sorry if I did, but please, let me make up whatever I did wrong-”

You thought that you had done something wrong? Mammon’s dumbstruck - you were perfect, you were you, why would you ever think you were the one in the wrong? Wasn’t it obvious that this was all his fault?

“...Mammon?” you sigh. “I- if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay, I’m sorry I came to bother you, you clearly don’t want me to be here.”

He can hear your frown through the door, the tears that are probably hanging at your waterline, the dejected tone in your voice. Without thinking, he haphazardly sets the plate of food down, Diavolo knows where, and throws the door open just as you’re pulling your foot out of the frame. You blink up at him, surprised, and he immediately shrinks in on himself. He knows he’s a mess right now - ruffled hair, puffy eyes, wrinkled clothes - but he also knows that he can’t have you thinking you did something wrong. He may be a terrible boyfriend according to his brothers, but he won’t be that terrible of a boyfriend.

“Oh, honey,” you say, voice as soft as velvet, taking a few steps toward him. “Are you okay?”

And you watch as he just crumples, tears flowing openly again. He’s desperately sniffling, rubbing at his eyes, trying to get them to stop, but now that the floodgates have been opened, he can’t control them anymore.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, I’m the great Mammon, after all!” he responds shakily, trying his best (and failing) to hold in his tears. “Nothing shakes me, ya know that, treasure.”

You frown at him, worry written all over your face. You gently push your way into his room, and he lets you, looking everywhere but your face as you gently close the door behind you. The gentle click of the lock catches his ear, but he’s more focused on you. He winces as you click the light on, too, and hopes you don’t mind how he looks right now. He can feel your gaze on him, all of him, tearing apart whatever walls he was feebly trying to keep up. You always knew what was up, even when he wouldn’t say it. It was one of the things he loved so much about you - he didn’t have to be good with words, because you already know what he’s going to say.

He jumps slightly as your hands reach for his face, directing it at yours. His eyes still won’t meet yours, and you sigh.

“What’ll it take for my handsome boyfriend to look me in the eye, huh?” you croon sweetly. He can see the pout forming on your lips and the glint behind your eyes without even having to look. And he’s sure that you can feel the flush of his skin under your hands as blood rushes straight to his cheeks. It didn’t take much for you to fluster him, even now.

“Mammon.”

“...MC,” he conceded, allowing himself a peek at you.

That was his first mistake. You were looking at him with such admiration, as if he had hung the moon and all the stars in the sky, and he didn’t know how to handle it. Why did you love him?

“Why do I love you? Why wouldn’t I love you?” You could tell he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but you pushed on before he could get a word in. “You’re kind, and you’re so sweet to me, and you care about your family above anything else, and-”

“That’s not true,” he murmurs, watery eyes looking away from yours once again. “They think I’m mean, and annoying, and that I’m making you unhappy-”

“Oh, baby,” you coo, thumbing gently at his cheek. “Do I need to remind you just how perfect you are for me? My perfect boy.”

He flushes, stammering as you lead him back to his bed. There’s a noticeable dent from where he laid, unmoving, earlier, but you ignore it. Instead, you gently guide him to lay down on his back, and sit to straddle his hips.

“I don’t know what’s got you all in your head,” you say, leaning down to hover your mouth just above his. “But I’m going to remind you just how good you are, okay?”

Before he can stammer out an “okay” of his own, your lips are crashing against his. There’s a sort of desperation behind your movements, and it has blood rushing down to his cock prematurely. He can’t help it, not when you’re straddling his hips and kissing him like your life depends on it. His hips buck when your tongue pushes into his mouth, and his shaky hands move to grasp at any part of you he can grab. They land on the plush of your hips, trying to guide you to grind down onto his already aching cock. You pull away at this, and he whines, a genuine sort of hurt hiding in the depths of his eyes.

“Baby, baby, look at me,” you murmur, cupping his cheek. “This is about you but that doesn’t mean you can break the rules. We go at my pace, okay?”

“S-sorry,” he hiccups, tears filling his waterline. “Sorry, I’ll be good for you, I’m sorry, I’ll be a good puppy, so please, don’t hate me!”

“Hate you? Honey, why would I hate you?”

You’re appalled that he would even think so lowly of you. Hate him? He didn’t show up to one dinner and you had about lost your mind! He had always been the sun - so bright and beautiful and charming - and you had just been lucky enough to have been pulled into his orbit. You didn’t hate him - hell, you revered him.

“T-that’s what they-hic-were sayin’,” he sobbed, the tears now at full force, “That I make you unhappy and that I don’t treat you right and and and-”

You interrupt again before he can spiral any further, squishing his cheeks between your fingers in an attempt to get him to slow down.

“But did I say that baby? Did I tell you any of those things?”

He shakes his head gently, but the babbling doesn’t stop. He’s refusing to make eye contact again, and you frown, mad at yourself for not seeing the problem sooner. He had no reason to be insecure, he was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you were just going to have to remind him of that.

“Silly Mammon,” you say, leaning down to leave a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Does my little puppy need another reminder of just how much I love him?”

His head bobbles in a frantic yes, eyes finally finding yours again. There’s something feral sparkling in your eyes, but before he can comprehend it you’re slamming your lips back on his, your hands running down his pants to paw at his bulge. You toy with his belt a bit and he whines into your mouth, hips shifting under you in an attempt to get you to hurry up.

You pull away, thumbing gently at his cheek. “Use your words, puppy. What do you need?”

“W-whatever you want,” he pants, his glazed over eyes struggling to meet yours. “Anything you want, please, wan’ you!”

You try to remain composed, but you can’t help the desperate shake of your hands as you fumble with his belt. You slip off of his lap, tapping his hip gently with your pointer finger as you shift off him. He lifts them for you without a word, eyes watching intently as you guide his pants and underwear off in one swift motion. You can’t help the grin from spreading across your face when his cock slaps against his abdomen. His tip is an angry red, almost purple, and fat globs of pre-cum run down the side of his cock.

“Aw, puppy, you’re already soaking for me, aren’t you? Sweet thing,” you coo, eyes never leaving his cock. “I’m going to ruin you.”

He doesn’t get more warning than that before you’re swooping down, tongue running up the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock. Your hands find his inner thighs and they twitch under your touch, trying to close around you as you slide between them. His hands scramble for purchase in the sheets as your head bobs down his length, taking him into your mouth. Another spurt of pre-cum dribbles out of his cock, and you suck it up, greedy, intent on making him fall apart under you.

“M-MC,” he stutters out between moans. “Master, please, I c-can’t take it! F-feels sho guh-good!”

You hum around him, sending vibrations coursing through him. One glance up at him and you know he’s already gone - eyes teary and glazed, hair messy, and one of his hands frantically fumbling to play with his nipple. You swirl your tongue around his leaking head and give one final bob downwards before he loses control of his hips and bucks into your mouth, painting your throat white with cum. You nurse him gently through it, suckling until his hips twitch with overstimulation. Pulling off him with a pop!, you give Mammon a lazy grin, rubbing gentle circles into his thigh with your thumb.

“Feeling better, puppy?” You murmur, kissing your way up to his mouth until you’re eye to eye, once again straddling the meat of his thighs.

He nods, and you frown down at him, unimpressed.

“Words, pup.”

“Yeah,” he says, dazed. “T-thank you, master, made me feel so good.”

“Good puppy,” you murmur, pecking his cheek. “Because I’m not done with you.”

He blinks up at you in surprise, and you spit on your hand, grasping at his softening cock. He winces at the contact on his sensitive cock, hands weakly moving to stop you. You grab at his wrist, giving him a warning look.

“You were doing so perfect for me, pup, what happened?” You pout down at him, giving his cock a warning squeeze. “My pretty puppy, do you think you can give me one more? Just one more, I know you can be good, hm?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, I can be g-good, hnn! So good, master, the goodest!”

He drops his hands back to his side, letting you have your way with him. Despite his earlier protests, he hardens quickly at your ministrations, tip already leaking at your touch. You lean down and press a gentle kiss to his mouth, eating up the little whimpers slipping from his maw. Once he’s sufficiently leaking all over your hand, you shift your weight, tapping his cheek to get his attention.

“Ready, puppy?”

He blinks up at you in confusion, mouth opening to question you, but you line his cock up with your entrance and slide down, and his mouth forms a little oh instead. You flinch at the stretch, but any sort of pain quickly blurs into pleasure as you guide his tip to kiss that gooey spot inside of you. Your eyes want to flutter shut but you refuse to let them, instead basking in the drunken look on Mammon’s face. He’s clearly edging on the border of painful overstimulation and thoughtless pleasure, and when you clench around him just right, there might just be hearts in his eyes.

“F-fuck, puppy, stretching me so good, aren’t you? Can feel you-unh!-all the way u-up here, baby.”

Your hand moves to your lower abdomen, eyes mean as you tap right where you feel him. He watches you with utter reverence, unable to look away as your pace picks up, hips rolling in a steady pattern.

“So wet, aren’t you, puppy?” you pant, tightening your jaw to keep the moans from spilling out. “Absolutely gushing for me, gonna squirt for me like a girl?”

He opens his mouth to respond, and you slap a hand over his mouth. “Puppies don’t talk, remember? Or did I already fuck my puppy dumb?”

Your condescending tone has his eyes rolling back and his tongue lolling out, and you catch it, rolling it between your thumb and your forefinger. He’s drooling everywhere, little unh unh unh!s and masther!s slipping from his mouth. You tug on his tongue a bit, and you look him right in the eye as you spit into his mouth and let him choke on it a bit. When his eyes start to roll again, you let go, and watch him greedily swallow the mix of your spits.

“Say thank you, puppy.”

“W-woof!” he responds, and you give him a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss in return.

“Good boy, remembering my rules. How about you play with your pretty nipples as a reward, hm? And then maybe I’ll think about letting you cum.”

His head bobbles as he nods, hands messily sliding up to toy with his nipples. He rolls them between his fingers, tugging, and you see his abdomen tense as he holds back from bucking up into your soft, wet heat.

You’re not doing much better, and when his tip kisses that sweet spot inside you again, you feel yourself start to unwind. You lose your pace, desperately chasing your high as your insides spasm around him.

“C-come undone with me puppy, c’mon, won’t you-ahn!-be good for me? My best boy. You c-can cum, fuck fuck fuck! Cum.”

At your command, he lets go, filling your insides with his warm cum. You shake around him, prying your heavy eyes open to look at the blissed out expression on his face. His cheeks are streaked with dried tears and drool, and the most delicious flush spreads all the way down his chest. You run a hand through his matted hair as he comes down from his second orgasm of the night, extremely pleased with how he wearily blinks at you, eyes unfocused.

You wince as you pull off of him, and his cum weakly dribbles out of your entrance. You roll over to lay next to him, making sure to slip your hand into his.

You’re both absolutely disgusting - smelling of sex and covered in the evidence - but you bring his hand to your face anyways, gently kissing his knuckles.

“You know I love you more than anything, right?” You say, almost so quietly he misses it, “I hate that even for a second you doubted that.”

He tries to stop the feeling bubbling to his chest, but it’s hard to ignore when you nuzzle your face into his neck. He’s never really had the luxury to love like this, since he’s fallen to the Devildom, and it fills him with an inexplicable warmth. He rolls to face you, and he stiffens as your eyes find his.

“‘m sorry I made you worry,” he says, slinging an arm over you and pulling you closer. “I just…I’m not the best person, y’know? So I figured you finally saw that.”

You nip at the juncture when his neck meets his shoulder and he yelps.

“Don’t talk about my boyfriend like that. He’s the kindest, most loving, most exciting person to be around, and I’m the one who’s lucky to have him.”

The fierceness in your gaze catches him by surprise - why would you care so much? Sure, he’s the Great Mammon, but under all of his pizazz, he was just a boring, regular demon. Lucifer is influential, Leviathan is passionate, Satan is smart, Asmo is beautiful, Beel is strong, and Belphie (despite his brat behavior) is soft and sweet. But he didn’t bring anything to the table, not like they did.

“Stop that,” you say, louder this time.

“Get out of your head and look at me. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. You’re not annoying, and your brothers don’t know how much you do for them when they’re not looking. You’re an amazing brother, and the perfect partner. I love you, okay? I love you so much, my Mammon.”

“I love ya too, MC. Thank you for remindin’ me,” he huffs out, embarrassed at the tears springing to his eyes again.

He sniffles, hiding his head into your hair and pulling you closer. You hold him just as tight, and he drifts off in your arms, the tension of the day slipping away in your embrace.

– – –

“Do you think Mammon is okay?”

Lucifer glances up from his place at his desk, glasses crooked and face a little flushed. He tries his best to subtly adjust himself, and rubs at his temples, exasperated. Sometimes, being aware of everything happening in the house was more of a curse than a blessing. Your voice as you cooed at his brother was going to stick with him for eons to come.

“I can assure you, Leviathan, he is more than okay.”

Word Count: 3897

#daisy writes<3 #romance without the paywall #why pay 30 dollars when i can write the smut myself?#dom!reader #dom reader #obey me smut #sub obey me #obey me #sub!mammon #sub mammon #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #mammon smut #obey me mammon #mammon my beloved #obey me x reader #obey me swd

282 notes · View notes

acourtofwhatthefuck · 9 months ago

Text

Bad for Me — Cassian x Reader

Hi! I found this in my drafts and thought I’d share it while I’m finishing up the next part of Bluebird. I’m not sure why I never posted it 🤔maybe because I don’t think it’s very well written. Also, it seems I was using a prompt list for parts of dialogue in this, but I can’t for the life of me think which one it was 😅but anyway, enjoy an angsty piece with an angsty cliffhanger ending 💅🏻

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: None.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“What the fuck is this?”

There wasn’t a part of you that didn’t shake with anger as you stormed your way into the sitting room. Anger that had built up and festered as the day had faded into night.

It was late. You’d waited up — waited for the telltale, arrogantly loud footsteps that had announced Cassian’s return. Where he’d been all day, you didn’t know nor care.

Sure enough, you found him in his usual chair by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey rested on the arm and his eyes closed. His fingers rubbed circles into his forehead — a positive sign that he was sporting a particularly gruelling headache.

Good. You would yell into his ear until he launched himself off one of the verandas and flew far, far away.

“What is this?” You repeated, chucking the item you held straight onto his lap.

His eyes slowly opened, and he glanced down impassively. “That’s a piece of paper. It’s useful for writing, or drawing, or—”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

It had surprised you, to say the least, to wake up to the folded note on your bedside table — in Cassian’s rough scrawl.

Find yourself a pretty little dress. Don’t make any plans for Friday next. We’re going dancing. Cassian.

“Explain.” You demanded, your tone clipped. Brash.

You didn’t want to go dancing with Cassian. Or walking, or running, or…anything.

It was bad enough living under the same roof as him. Working in the same circle as him. Bad enough having to be civil in the name of a unified front.

But you were professional. You could pretend to get along in front of people.

That didn’t mean you had to socialise with him, though.

With a sigh, he sat up straighter, brushing his hair back. “Rhys is having me play courtier again.”

Your head cocked to the side. “But you’re so terrible at it.”

The minuscule pause and tick of his jaw told you you’d landed a sure blow. A nervy spot, for Cassian, was certainly his abilities off the battlefield. Why Rhys insisted on sending the General on certain courtier expeditions was beyond your comprehension. And beyond Cassian’s, too, judging by how much he hated it.

You took no small amount of pleasure in that fact. A little payback for all the ways he’d torn you down over the years.

“Hilarious.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t joking.”

“Whatever. Rhys is having me represent him at a fucking ball in the Hewn City and I need a plus-one, so — you’re coming.”

Your shoulders tensed. “Absolutely not. Ask somebody else.”

“There’s no way I’m putting Mor through that. And she’s in Vallahan, anyway.”

“So take Amren with you.”

“Be real, Y/N.”

You stared at him, clenching your jaw. You hated him. Hated him so, so much — loathed him — that you swore your veins turned to ice around him. Ever since you’d met him, and you’d taken one look at him and thought he was the most beautiful male you’d ever seen.

You’d sworn never to fall in love again, when you’d joined Rhysand’s Inner Circle — and seeing Cassian go through flings like you went through books only solidified that decision.

Hate was a good thing. Hate was something you could pour all your anger into and throw at the person that seeped into your thoughts a little too often.

And dish that hate out you may, but gods Cassian gave it back just as fiercely.

“Ask one of your many lovers.” You spat. “You have your cock in a different female every week. I can’t imagine you’re short on admirers.”

Cassian stretched his arms over his head. “And how many admirers do you have, Y/N?”

You tried your best not to flinch. To let him see the effect his words had on you was as bad as him thrusting a dagger into your gut. You willed yourself to give nothing away.

“Just find somebody else.” You said. “There’s not a fucking chance I’m going anywhere with you, of all people.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. You turned on your feet and stalked from the room, leaving the note on his lap and your barbed words hanging heavy in the air.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Three nights later, your bedroom door burst open so abruptly that you dropped your book on your face.

“Pause your masturbation for five minutes.” Cassian’s deep, arrogant voice filled the room. “I have your dress.”

You sat up, your entire body tensing the way it always did in his presence. “What.”

He kicked the door shut behind him, and even in your considerably-sized bedroom, his domineering figure seemed to take up most of the space. He strode to the foot of your bed — and paused, just for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of your nightgown, your unbound hair.

You didn’t have a chance to remark before he straightened himself out and launched a flash of pale pink fabric at you.

“For the ball.” He said. “I checked your size and asked the shopkeeper to pick it out, so…if you don’t like it, I don’t really give a fuck.”

Your eyes fell down to the dress in your lap. Undeniably pretty, with its rosy hue and flaring skirt, thin straps and tiny, beaded jewels. A dress you would probably choose for yourself, if the occasion called for it.

You’d always loved clothes; dresses in particular. The intricacies of certain garments fascinated you, and the thought of creating your own made your heart skip a beat.

You thought you’d feel pretty in this dress; prettier than you usually felt, in your leathers or shirts and breeches. It wasn’t all that often that you had an occasion to dress up for.

But even this gown wouldn’t convince you to accept Cassian’s invitation. Or, rather, his order.

You pushed the dress away from you, though your fingers lingered within the soft fabric. “You’re absolutely fucking insane if you think I’m going to that ball with you.”

Cassian’s eyes fell to where your hands stroked the skirts, before climbing back up to meet yours. The bastard knew what you were feeling. He fucking knew.

“Oh, you so want to.” He smirked. “I can see it in your eyes.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “So it’s a nice dress. I’m sure one of your many sexual escapades would appreciate it.”

The General’s head tilted, a few strands ripping from the loose knot his hair was tied into. “What is it about my sex life that bothers you so much?”

That you’re free to even have such a sex life without judgement. That you will never know what it’s like to be ostracised just for exploring such things. That you can fuck who you like with no repercussions. That it isn’t me you’re—

“Don’t mistake me for someone who gives a shit about anything you do.” You bit. “I just wouldn’t want such a nice dress to be wasted.”

“It won’t be. Because you’ll be wearing it to the ball on Friday.”

“No.” You threw the dress back at him. Picked your book back up. “I will not.”

“I’m going to hang it on the door.”

“Don’t bother.”

He ignored you, of course. The dress was hung. “We’ll be leaving at seven.”

“No we won’t.”

“We will.”

He pulled your bedroom door open, slipping out.

“Cassian?” You called, and there was a strong pause.

He poked his head back in. “What?”

“I’m not going to that damned ball with you.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

You were going to that damned ball with him.

High Lord’s orders, your ass. You’d kill Rhys for this.

The dress was a perfect fit, clinging to you like a second skin. And as you stared yourself down in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the fabric, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this pretty.

A long, long time ago. A night of passion. A night that would ultimately ruin your life.

You shook the past from your thoughts, straightening yourself out. It was imperative that you wore an unbreakable mask to the Hewn City. One that was steeled and sharp and revealed nothing of the person that lay beneath.

A thump fell on your bedroom door. “We’re going to be late.” Cassian barked.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from the mirror. The beads of your dress swished as you moved, and you focused on that, rather than the oaf that was currently trying to break into your room.

Just a few hours, and this would all be over.

“Simmer down, General.” You pulled the door open, stepping out. “I’m ready.”

Cassian stepped back. And stopped.

His hazel eyes slowly traced the length of your body. And despite the fact that he’d griped about being late, he took his sweet time drinking you in.

You waited for the snide remarks. For whatever fault he would surely find with your appearance. But when his eyes landed on your face again, you couldn’t puzzle out his expression.

“Good.” Was all he commented. “Let’s go.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

“Can you quit your fidgeting?”

Cassian scowled beside you, rolling his shoulders. “The collar on this thing is too tight.”

Your eyes travelled the sculpted length of his body — not for the first time — before you forced them away. He looked…undeniably breathtaking.

His comfort, you knew, was in leathers and body armour. Only on rare occasions like Starfall or Solstice did he swap his usual attire for more casual clothing like button-up shirts and trousers. You couldn’t recall a time you’d actually seen him decked in a tailored suit.

Until now.

The material was of deepest burgundy, outlining — accentuating — every last muscle it possibly could. There was something thrilling about the thought of so many deadly weapons hiding within that dashing attire. Something thrilling about knowing the Lord of Bloodshed walked beside you.

Right now, though, he was the fucking Lord of Complaining and Whining. You rolled your eyes, turning to him.

“What are you doing?” He watched as you pushed up onto the tips of your toes.

“Shutting you up.” You adjusted his collar, ignoring the feel of the backs of your fingers brushing his neck. “Better?”

“Suppose so.” He rolled those shoulders again. He wouldn’t be content until the suit was off him completely.

“Then let’s go.” You currently stood outside the towering gates of the Hewn City, the air always unpleasantly cold in these parts. You took a step forward, your dress swishing along the ground—

A warm, rough hand landed on your arm. Stopped you.

“What?” You glanced at Cassian over your shoulder.

“Rhys is expecting us to represent him.” He said, his hazel eyes strangely fierce. He always got that look when there was a task at hand. “I know we hate each other. And that’s more than fine. But just for tonight, can we pretend that we…don’t?”

You stared back at him pensively. A petty part of you wanted to shrug him off and scoff. To tell him that the unpleasantness with which he’d always approached you had long laid any potential alliance to waste.

But he was right — Rhys was counting on you both. And Rhys had done a lot for you since you’d turned up on his doorstep with barely a coin to your name. For him…for him, you would pretend to enjoy Cassian’s company.

“Whatever.” You shrugged the General’s touch off, turning back around. “Fine.”

It wasn’t going to be easy, though.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

You made sure, in your life, that you never had to spend any extended amount of time with Cassian. You tolerated him when you had to, and avoided him the rest of the time.

But you’d been for nights out in the same group, of course. And you’d forgotten how many females tended to flock to his side and fawn over him.

This ball was a sure reminder of that.

You’d barely stepped into the room and grabbed yourselves a drink before groups of females were glancing over and chatting excitedly, shrill giggles floating over to you. It was a mere five minutes before one of them mustered the nerve to ask him to dance, leaving you standing on your own.

It was during that first dance that you decided — you weren’t just going to be civil with Cassian.

You were going to be so sickeningly over the top that he’d have no chance of skulking off with any of those females and leaving you by yourself while he got his cock sucked. Not a chance. If they thought he’d been claimed by another member of Rhys’s Inner Circle, they’d back off; if a little begrudgingly.

So you watched. Waited for that dance to end. Rhys hadn’t given you any specific orders, besides attending on his behalf and keeping an ear out for any gossip. You drank your wine and enjoyed the music, and the second Cassian had an empty space before him, you dipped in before anybody else could.

It seemed to surprise him. He blinked at you, before straightening himself out. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing with you.” You grabbed his hand, fastening it on your waist.

“Rhys never said we had to dance together.”

“You want us to get along, Cassian?” The music began, tugging you into movement. “Then let’s get along.”

With the other couples beginning to dance around you, it left no other option than to follow suit and avoid causing a scene. Cassian’s jaw ticked, but he grabbed for your other hand and began to pull you around the dance floor with him. He was no seasoned dancer, by any means, but he displayed more skill than you’d expected.

Another thing you loved — dancing. Feeling like your feet were floating. Once you started dancing, you wanted to keep going and going into you fell off the world and tumbled into a blissful beyond. Nothing else mattered besides the music, the moves.

“I didn’t know you could dance.” Cassian commented, echoing the thoughts you’d had about him.

You shrugged, not misstepping once. “I was forced to take lessons as a girl.”

“I didn’t know that, either.”

“Why would you know? It’s not as though we like each other.”

He spun you around. Dipped you in his arms. “And why is that?”

Laughable, that he was the one to ask that question. “You tell me. You never tried.”

“Is that how it went?”

“It is.”

He stared at you, expression unreadable. No other words were exchanged as one dance came to its end, and the music flowed into the next piece. But you didn’t need words to carry out your plan.

The second you caught a glimpse of hopeful, waiting females in your periphery, you pulled Cassian closer to you once more, your bodies flush against each other.

You may have felt a teensy bit ridiculous as you slipped your fingers into the strands of his hair and brushed it out of his face.

“I like your hair like this.” The words were heavy on your tongue. Not untrue, but…painful to say out loud.

Cass stared at you. “…thank you.”

But his thanks was lost in your satisfaction as the awaiting female disappeared from the corner of your eye, skulking off to sulk, no doubt. It was an effort not to smirk. Still, you righted yourself and continued with your plan.

You made certain that yours and Cassian’s bodies met in all the right places. Very close. Very dangerous.

Perfect — because there were still hopeful, simpering females watching. Waiting for you to walk away.

“Dance with me again.” Your breathy tone wasn’t entirely for show — nor was the hand you trailed down his arm for emphasis.

But Cassian frowned at you. “What are you up to?”

“Me?” Your eyes glittered. “Nothing at all.”

He kept his gaze on you, following you into your second dance. You could have sworn you saw the slumping of many shoulders as you spun around the floor, Cassian’s hands like a burning brand on your skin.

You weren’t even really paying attention to him, simply following the steps mindlessly, until he spoke again.

“That isn’t how it went.” He said.

Your brow furrowed as you spun around. “What?”

In one swift move, he was pulling you against him, pressing your fronts together. “You said I never tried to know you. I refute that.”

You shrugged. “You treated me with the same contempt as the bastards I ran away from.”

“You treated me like I was dirt beneath your shoe and I didn’t deserve the time of day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. That simply was not true. He had always been cocky, and arrogant, and difficult. He acted as though mud wouldn’t stick to him, as though he could do what he liked, when he liked.

Suddenly, you didn’t want to be dancing with him anymore. Didn’t want his hands on you, simpering females or no.

He could go to hell.

“I never thought you didn’t deserve the time of day.” You contested tersely. “I—”

“I know.” He interrupted. Spun you around again. “I worked it out eventually.”

“Excuse me?”

“What your problem is.” Another dip.

You didn’t like this conversation — it’s direction. It would be easier to run away, to avoid it.

Easier, but cowardly.

“Pray, tell, General, what do you believe my problem is?” You stared at him.

He leaned down, just as the music faded. Poised his lips at your ear. “Jealousy.” He murmured, the word seeming deafeningly loud. “Sometimes the way you look at me makes me think that perhaps you don’t hate me that much.”

You knew your body stiffened between you. And as he pulled back and smirked, you also knew that he knew he’d won.

Whatever it was that glittered in his eyes was…knowledge. Knowing. An understanding. And that couldn’t mean anything good for you.

“Cassian?”

The two of you looked up upon the intrusion, only realising then that the music had stopped, and the dancing with it. A doe-eyed girl stared at the General with bright, sparkling hope in her eyes.

“I was hoping I might have the next dance.” She said.

You didn’t care anymore. You barely spared either of them a glance as you let go of Cassian and pushed out of his arms.

“He’s all yours.” You said.

And then you went to find some fresh air.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

“I’ll be sure to tell Rhys that you spent the evening skulking around on your own whilst I did all the posturing.”

You glanced at Cassian out of the corner of your eye. You weren’t interested in a verbal sparring match right now. The night air was pleasant on your skin, and you allowed it to cool your face, your neck. Allowed it to wash away the tension permanently coiled within your veins, if only for a few stolen moments.

“Go ahead”, was the only reply you offered.

Eyes pierced into you as you bathed yourself in the moonlight. Even with your own shut, you could sense Cassian watching, waiting. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of anything beyond vague acknowledgement. Not now.

That seemed to fucking torture him.

“What—no smartass response?” He quipped.

“No, Cassian,” you sighed quietly. “No smartass response.”

He paused — seemed genuinely knocked silent for a moment — before he scoffed. “I don’t believe that for a second. Even in silence, I know you’re up to something. That scheming brain of yours—”

“This scheming brain of mine is exhausted.”

As your eyes flew open, you caught the way he faltered, a slight misstep, the barest ruffling of his wings. For all he was the General of War, the Lord of Bloodshed, you’d also observed him to be a profoundly emotional person. And that emotion sometimes won as he fought to hide it.

This emotion…it was ire. Gone was the sharp-edged teasing. He found issue with your words, and his jaw gave a telltale tick.

“What could you possibly be exhausted by?” he scoffed. “You need only turn up looking like a fucking goddess and people respect you. You’re not some lowly, bastard-born brute. You don’t get sneered at simply for breathing—”

“You believe people respect me?”

“Of course they do!”

“You don’t.”

He stumbled — actually stumbled — and it was only that which alerted you to the way he’d been inching towards you. But his steps faltered, and he gaped at you like your revelation was entirely out of pocket. Like you had no reason to feel that.

“You have never respected me.” You held firm on your point, even if your voice was a tad quieter. “I fled a fucking viper’s den and ran to Rhysand’s court, hoping to find a sense of…of belonging. But you…” A soft, rueful chuckle shuddered out of you. “You have made it your mission to ensure that would not be the case.”

Slowly, Cassian’s brow pinched. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, seeming to search for the right words. “That…isn’t how it went…”

“It is,” you shrugged. “You said I treated you like dirt — perhaps, unintentionally, I did. Perhaps it was a defence mechanism, because I never expected to flee absolute hell and come face-to-face with a male that I immediately wanted.”

There they were — the words out in the open. The truth wedged itself between you like a glaring, unmissable sign. You had never hated Cassian. Quite the opposite.

“I thought that I would never want another male in that way again.” You revealed hoarsely. “I thought I would live a life content with just…being me. With friends and nothing more. But that first day I met you, I walked in and I…I knew. I felt it.”

Cassian blinked, slowly shaking his head. “What…”

“And then you were so hostile, and I thought that maybe that was a good thing. That it would discourage me from feeling things. But I must be a fucking glutton for punishment, because no matter how cold you were towards me, my feelings only grew. And I tried…I tried so hard to shift them into hate, but I couldn’t. I’ve never been able to. I simply…can’t.”

The way he stared at you…so hardened, so severe…you couldn’t get a read on the reaction. But then…had you ever really been able to get a read on him?

“You were right…what you said about me being jealous,” you swallowed. “I was. I am—”

“That was…just a joke…I was just being a dick—”

“No,” you shook your head. “You were right. I was jealous in there, and I’m always jealous when people flirt with you. When I see you smile at them and joke with them and I shouldn’t wish it was me but I do. These feelings are constant. And that, Cassian…that is why I am exhausted. It’s exhausting for me to know you.”

Silence.

It should have been a relief, to have finally shifted such heavy feelings from your shoulders. But they were like tangible beings, fogging the air around you, wrapping you and Cassian up in a situation that was complicated and ugly and not at all ideal.

You knew he would do nothing with your feelings…except maybe sneer at them, laugh at them, throw them back in your face. You expected nothing from him. And the longer the silence went on, the more you began to wish that you could steal your confessions back. Shove them deep back into that narrow part of your heart that was still capable, somehow, of feeling such things.

You cleared your throat, tweaking the pretty, delicate gloves that covered your hands and forearms. “We should…head back inside.”

You breezed past him, suddenly desperate for the mindless chaos of the throne room. But you’d only managed a few steps forward before Cassian was gripping onto your arm and yanking you back.

Your dress fanned out as he spun you around, and a breath pushed out of you as he slammed you against the nearest wall, the cold brick biting into the fabric of your dress.

Before you could say anything, he was dipping down, his mouth sliding over yours.

Cassian kissed you deeply, punishingly, his lips moulding to yours perfectly. You gasped against him, and his tongue slid into your mouth to dance with yours, his rough, rugged taste invading you.

You’d thought about this moment a ludicrous amount. You’d imagined what the weight of his lips might be like, how perfectly his tongue might duel with yours. Nothing — no amount of imagining — could prepare you for the reality. The sense of rightness as his hand coasted up to clasp the back of your head, his fingers sinking into your hair. He gave a gentle tug, and you moaned in immediate response.

Air, it seemed, was not important. Not as you kissed him back feverishly, gripping at his shirt in an attempt to pull him as close against you as he could possibly get. The press of his hard body against yours was pleasure in itself. You nipped his lip, desperate for more, more, more, and he groaned in response.

This — this could very well spiral out of control, and you would welcome it. You wanted him to tear your clothes off and take you against this wall. You wanted him to make you feel like he wanted you, like it wasn’t exhausting to know him—

But there was suddenly emptiness and coldness. And it took your mind a moment to catch up and realise that he had pulled away.

Not far. Just enough to stare down at you, his deep hazel eyes flaring and furious. His panting breaths sawed out of him, landing directly on your lips and making you desperate for another taste. You tilted your head up—

He shook his head. Stepped back.

“No,” he murmured, voice gruff. “No. You…you are very bad for me.”

Your entire body turned cold at the words. Words that sliced at you, reminiscent of ones you’d heard before. “What?”

“You’re bad for me,” he repeated. “And I am very bad for you.”

“Cassian—”

“Don’t—don’t even say my name.”

With a swiftness that sent a gust of wind rustling the skirts of your dress, he turned, wings flaring and launching him into the star-speckled sky above you. You gaped at his retreating figure, flying off into the night, leaving you alone not only in that courtyard, but in the fucking Court of Nightmares.

Your mouth had turned dry, your skin cold. You lingered out there long after Cassian had flown off, waiting to see if he would come back. Pathetically hoping he would.

He did not.

And as you conceded, slipping your courtier mask back into place and turning to retreat back inside, his words rang like a deafening klaxon in your head.

You are very bad for me.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fic #cassian #cassian x reader fic #cassian angst #reader insert #cassian x reader #cassian x you #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acourtofwhatthefuck #acotar angst #angst

788 notes · View notes