#they destroyed part of his garden

[nelkcats]

Garden of Souls

There are people who, when they die, do not really want anything else. No reincarnations or second chances. People who did not wish to stay longer than necessary.

When they die, the universe usually grants their wish. And a flower is born in the Ghost King garden. Pariah Dark never paid attention to all the flowers (each one unique in its own way), and left them to die. Although many of them prevailed, a lot of souls were lost.

Danny was different. He loved and cared for each of the flowers. His own sister had become one of them after all. Every day the King went out to the garden and closed his eyes, listening to Jazz's voice speak to him, he watered the flowers and smiled. Danny knew that his sister was no longer in the Realms, that she was resting, but her memories were imprinted on the flower, and her soul had become something beautiful. It was nice to talk to what was left of her.

That is why when John Constantine dared to step on one of the flowers in his garden the King was enraged. The Justice League had reached the Infinite Realms, investigating about it; What at first was a casual conversation turned into a fight as the heroes became fascinated with his garden, one of them daring to pluck one of his beloved flowers while Constantine unceremoniously stepped on another.

Although they had just discovered the dimension, Danny didn't plan to receive them again for a long time. No more help or peace deals, no one messed with his garden, the poor souls must have been terrified.

[grimmjowjaegerjaquez]

when youre trying to live alone out in your field lab but then these two yahoos follow you out there and now they wont leave????

[strange-mystery]

Finished reading the twst novel

[beloveds-embrace]

Quotation marks around worshippers because they’ve lived long, brutal lives, constantly in war and fights and skirmishes and tearing others apart in a bid to simply survive and keep a malicious god content enough it doesn’t kill them and destroy what little they’ve fought hard to win.

John is the oldest. He’s lived long enough to know hope is just a word made by those already deafeated. It doesn’t exist. He has fought bloody and dirty to have his own spot. It’s all his, his only source of safety and isolation from the rest of the god’s violent domain. It should be just his, because trust should also not exist.

Yet he still took in Ghost. His old name burnt away in the ashes of the crumbling arena, more scars than clear skin, face hidden with a mask and all his opponents dead, John still took him in.

He also takes in Johnny. Bright Johnny, with blood coating his teeth and who laughs in the face of death, as if the chaos only strengthens him. Johnny, with his wild grin and reckless spirit, has survived every fight, every slaughter, not by brute force alone but by sheer audacity. He revels in the violence, thriving in the blood-soaked madness that their war god delights in. Despite John’s reluctance, Johnny becomes part of his world- part of the strange, brutal family they’ve formed under the watchful eye of a cruel god.

But John doesn’t stop there. He takes in Kyle, too. Kyle, quick and resourceful, with sharp eyes and sharper instincts. He’s newer to this war, but no less hardened. He knows how to fight, how to survive. He has to, in order to endure the hellish existence demanded by their god. Like the others, he’s marked by the battles he’s fought, by the lives he’s taken, the blood that stains his hands. There’s no room for softness here, no room for weakness.

Together, the four of them are bound by the violence they’ve endured and the desperate struggle to appease a god who feeds on their suffering. They don’t question it. They don’t dare. It’s all they’ve ever known. It’s all they’ll ever know.

Then, you arrive.

But you’re not just some strange outsider, not just another fragile soul lost in the wasteland of their god’s domain. You are another god- a goddess. The goddess of fertility, of harvest, of life itself. The opposite of everything they know. Where they come from a world of blood and fire, you bring growth, peace, and something they can’t name- something they’ve long forgotten.

John is the first to notice the change. It’s subtle at first. The small patch of ground he’s claimed for himself, once barren and dead, begins to show signs of life beyond the very little moss that has made itself home on the rocks and cracks of his area. Tiny sprigs of green push up through the cracked earth, the soil somehow softer, richer. He doesn’t understand it, but he feels it- something shifting, something outside of his control. It leaves him with his hackles raised, eyes narrowed and shoulders often tense.

(He doesn’t shove you out. Doesn’t fight, or attack, or kill you. He doesn’t know why he lets you stay, like that moss that lingers.)

Ghost remains quiet, watchful as always. He doesn’t speak of it, but he, too, notices the strange calm that seems to settle around them when you’re near. The land seems less hostile, the sky a less oppressive red and more of a deep orange. It’s unsettling in a way that makes him wary, but he’s drawn to you nonetheless. There’s something about you that soothes the storm inside him, something that makes the endless violence seem… far away.

Johnny, in contrast, is the first to approach you openly, grinning through bloodstained teeth. “Yer naw like the rest of us, bonnie.” he says with a laugh, almost in awe. He doesn’t know why he feels at ease around you, why the chaos in his mind quiets when you’re near, but he doesn’t question it. You smile at him, your touch soft as you brush dirt from your hands, tending to the small garden you’ve coaxed from the dead soil.

Kyle watches from a distance, suspicious at first. He’s seen enough in this brutal world to know nothing good comes without a cost. But as the days pass, he, too, begins to feel the shift. There’s a strange sense of peace when you’re around, a warmth that feels foreign but not unwelcome.

They don’t realize it at first, but you’re pulling them out of the war god’s grasp, slowly, gently, without them even knowing. With every seed you plant, with every gentle touch, you weave them further into your domain the same way your hands weave flower crowns for each of them. They don’t know that the violent god they served is weakening, that his power is crumbling as you pull the earth itself away from him, reclaiming it for yourself.

The land around them begins to change. The once-scorched earth softens beneath their feet. Where the air was once thick with ash and smoke, it now carries the scent of growing things, of rain, of life. They don’t understand how it’s happening, why the violence that once defined their world seems to be fading, but they can feel it.

And you, always quiet, always gentle, never tell them the truth.

They don’t know that you’ve been dismantling the war god’s domain piece by piece, tearing down the walls of blood and fire that have kept them trapped for so long. They don’t know that with every moment they spend in your presence, they’re moving further from the god they once served, deeper into your realm of peace and growth.

Their trust for you starts small.

You offer them food, but not the scavenged scraps they’re used to- fresh bread, warm and soft, made from the grain you’ve grown in the earth that once seemed too dead to nourish anything. “Eat,” you tell them with a soft smile, your voice a balm against the harshness of their world. “You’ve fought enough for now.”

John eyes you warily at first, his mistrust of softness deeply ingrained. He hesitates, but the hunger gnaws at him, and he finds himself taking a piece. It’s better than anything he’s tasted in years. The others follow suit, their suspicion momentarily forgotten in the simple act of sharing a meal.

When Ghost returns from another brutal skirmish, bloodied and bruised, you’re there. Quietly, without a word, you kneel beside him and start tending to his wounds. His body tenses at first and he is almost read to push you away- he’s used to pain, used to enduring it alone. But your touch is gentle, your hands soft and careful as you clean his cuts and wrap his injuries. He doesn’t speak. When this simple act becomes a routine, something begins to flicker in his eyes, something he hasn’t felt in a long time: relief. Safety.

“You don’t have to fight alone, not anymore.” you murmur, and though Ghost doesn’t reply, he doesn’t pull away either. The next time he’s hurt, he seeks you out before anyone else.

Johnny, always bold, is the first to embrace your presence without hesitation. He grins when you touch his arm, your fingers brushing away dirt from his skin. “You’re soft,” he says quietly, as if he can’t quite believe someone like you exists in their world. You only laugh gently and tousle his messy mohawk, unfazed by his wildness. “Maybe,” you reply, “You deserve it. All of you.”

Johnny’s grin widens, and soon, he’s lingering around you more often, like a star drawn to the sun’s orbit. He chatters about nothing and everything- battles he’s won, places he’s seen, jokes that make no sense. And you listen, never once judging the darkness behind his stories, always meeting his reckless energy with calm kindness.

And Kyle… Kyle is the last to trust. He watches you from a distance, wary and skeptical. He’s been burned too many times, lost too much to believe in something as simple as kindness. But even he can’t deny the peace that settles over him when you’re near. One evening, after a particularly grueling fight, you sit beside him, your presence quiet and soothing. You don’t push, don’t ask him to open up. You just sit there, offering him a slice of bread and a cup of fresh water.

“Why are you helping us?” Kyle asks, his voice low, guarded.

You smile, your eyes warm. Your face is always so open, so welcoming. Kyle does not know how you do it. “Because you’ve fought enough. You deserve rest. Peace.”

He doesn’t respond, but the tension in his shoulders eases just a little. He still watches you from the corner of his eye, but slowly, he begins to let down his guard.

As the days pass, you continue to tend to them- feeding them, healing them, offering warmth in a world where warmth is rare. They don’t understand it at first, but they begin to feel the shift. The land around them is changing, softening. The earth that was once barren begins to bloom with life. Where there was only death and destruction, now there are signs of growth- flowers, crops, greenery creeping up through the cracks in the wasteland.

John, who has spent his entire life guarding himself, feels it most of all. He watches you with something like confusion, like a man seeing the sun for the first time after years of darkness. He doesn’t understand why he feels calmer, why the constant tension in his body is easing. But despite his better judgment, he finds himself drawn to you- drawn to the softness he’s fought so hard to keep out.

You smile at him, always gentle, always kind, even when he’s rough around the edges. “You don’t have to fight anymore, John,” you tell him one evening as you hand him a fresh scone, drizzled with sweet honey and cream. “There’s more to life than just surviving. Let me show it to you.”

Ghost remains distant, but even he starts to let his guard down around you. The mask he wears, both literal and figurative, feels less necessary when you’re near. The weight of the violence he’s carried for so long feels lighter, though he doesn’t know why. It helps that he comes to you for every injury, your hands gentle and tender on his scarred skin.

Johnny is the most at ease with you, laughing more, fighting less, as though the fire that once consumed him is finally starting to burn out. And Kyle, ever watchful, finds himself relaxing for the first time in a long while, though he’s still unsure why he feels so drawn to you, so at peace in your presence.

Little by little, without them even realizing it, you’re pulling them away from the war god who has held them captive for so long. You’re bringing them into your world, a world of life and peace, where they can be more than just warriors, more than just tools of violence.

And the war god, once so powerful, is fading. His domain is crumbling, and soon, he will be nothing more than a memory.

But they don’t know. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

There is no need to drag them into what happens between gods, you reason to yourself, humming a sweet melody. Catching John’s gaze- they are working on your ever-expanding garden, tending to the soil- you smile and wave at him, delighted by the way his shoulders untense.

Yes. There is no need to ruin this little haven you’ve created.

[jezebelblues]

𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 | 𝐇.𝐒 ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐘𝐍 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭.

𝐂𝐖: requested exrry blurb (thank u anon!), slight angst, happy ending, fem!reader, actress!reader, unedited.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: approx 5k

❏ HI ! it’s been such a long time :( but i’m hoping i’m finally through with writers block. i feel like this doesn’t exactlyyyy fit anon’s request but i hope u liked it even a lil bit! i’m not 100% happy w this but i really wanna get something out so this will just have to suffice. missed yall <3

masterlist

there are moments in every love story when the world rearranges itself, tilts just enough to change the course of everything. it's the way a cigarette burns unevenly when the wind interferes, how a misplaced step shifts the dancer's rhythm, or the way a train leaves the station one minute too soon. for harry and YN, their love had been both a symphony and a storm, a masterpiece constructed on fragile scaffolding. in its final act, it had unraveled quietly, with only the sound of two hearts breaking in unison.

they hadn’t spoken in two years. two years of silences punctuated only by the occasional headline, the brush of a photo on a magazine rack, his voice threading through the speakers of a café. the world, it seemed, refused to let her forget him. but there he was now, not a photograph or a memory, but him. real, palpable, standing at the edge of her periphery like a ghost who hadn’t yet decided if it would haunt her or let her go.

YN leaned against the balustrade, clutching a glass of something that tasted more sour than it should have. the event itself was a haze of champagne flutes and low conversations, an industry soirée dripping in muted opulence. her dress was a deep shade of dusk, clinging to her like a second skin, and she felt beautiful in it—had felt beautiful in it—until she saw him.

harry was dressed as he always was: an effortless mosaic of contradictions. the suit was tailored to perfection, but his hair, unruly curls with the hint of rebellion, softened the sharp edges. there was no mistaking the tilt of his head, the way his eyes skimmed the room with an almost reluctant ease. she wondered if he’d seen her yet, if he’d feel that same quiet thrum in his chest when he did.

as if on cue, his eyes met hers.

the evening wasn’t designed for heartache. the sky, opalescent and blushing, rippled with the soft hues of twilight. lights strung through the manicured gardens of the estate flickered like fireflies caught in some eternal dance, glasses catching the shimmer like constellations in orbit. laughter rippled through the space, every corner alive with movement and conversation, yet harry could feel only the staccato of his pulse, sharp and relentless.

he wasn't supposed to see her tonight. it wasn't part of the plan—then again, plans were always shaky things when it came to them, built on the hope that tomorrow wouldn't bring a gust strong enough to dismantle it all.

it wasn’t a moment of cinematic epiphany. there was no gasp, no clinking glass slipping from trembling fingers. it was quieter than that, heavier. their eyes had met, and the weight of two years folded between them like a tide coming in—inevitable, undeniable.

his gaze dropped to her hands, searching for a ring, as though her life might have accelerated in the time since they'd parted. nothing. his chest tightened with something unnamable—relief? regret? both?

the last time they’d been in the same room, the air had been filled with shouting and static. their words had ricocheted off walls that had once heard laughter. they had been too much and not enough, two meteors colliding, destroying everything they touched in their desperate attempt to remain whole.

she loved him. god, how she had loved him. loves.

their love had been big. not in the way people tell stories about epic romances, but in the way it consumed everything around it. they fought like gods waging war. they loved like the first spring after a century of winter. they tore each other apart and put each other back together, over and over, until they couldn't remember what they had looked like before.

they stood like that for what felt like hours but must've been seconds, suspended in a quiet kind of agony. the people around them blurred into shapes, the air alive with the hum of champagne-fueled conversations and the laughter of people who had no concept of loss beyond the polite kind—misplaced keys, a delayed flight, the end of a film they'd rather not have finished. the only thing that seemed real was the chasm between them—filled with every moment they'd ever shared, every word spoken and unspoken, every touch and tear and promise.

he was walking toward her now. she could feel it in her chest before she saw it—the air shifting, the atoms around her realigning themselves to make room for his presence.

YN was radiant, in the way she always had been— light incarnate. her eyes, the same shade of longing he remembered, tried not to meet his own, but of course, they did. she's only human, and humans have always been drawn to the things that ruin them.

“YN.” he breathed when he was close enough, her name falling from his lips like a prayer he wasn’t sure he was allowed to utter.

“harry.” his name tasted unfamiliar on her tongue, like a word spoken in a foreign language after years of disuse.

there were too many things she wanted to say, too many memories fighting to rise to the surface. she remembered the way his hands had once mapped her skin like a cartographer desperate to chart every inch. she remembered mornings spent tangled in sheets, the sunlight spilling over their laughter. she remembered the fights, the nights spent in separate rooms, the echoes of their own voices loud in the spaces between them.

“you look—” he started, then stopped, as though the right words had slipped through his fingers.

“so do you.”

silence bloomed between them, heavy and awkward, like a third presence neither of them invited. she takes a sip of her drink to fill it, but the taste is sour, bitter. or maybe that's just her.

he couldn’t tell how long they just stood there. time had a way of folding in on itself since her, the days bleeding into nights, the minutes stretching and collapsing all at once. einstein once said time was relative, but harry was sure he hadn't meant this.

his lips parted, “i didn’t think you’d be here.”

“neither did i.”

the truth was, she almost hadn’t come. it was only her publicist’s insistence that had dragged her out of her apartment and into this room filled with people who didn’t really know her. but now, standing here in front of him, she wondered if some part of her had known—had hoped.

there was a question hanging in the air between them, not uttered, but loud enough to fill the silence. had they made a mistake?

he remembers how they agreed it was for the best—right person, wrong time. they'd parted with a kiss that tasted of salt and regret, a mutual agreement born not out of lack of love, but out of too much of it.

but how could it be for the best when the air at home still smelled like her, when her name was stitched into the fabric of every song he wrote? he thought of the way she used to rest her head against his chest at night, the way her fingers traced lazy patterns along his skin, as if she were memorizing him in braille. the intimacy of it—the quiet kind, the kind that felt like forever—had undone him. no one ever teaches you how to live without forever.

the first time they met, they were children pretending to be adults. a festival in the desert, both of them younger and wilder, sweat-soaked and sunburnt and drunk on music. they danced in a crowd of thousands, but it felt like the earth shrank to the size of a postage stamp, and they were the only two people left. he had kissed her that night, tequila and the promise of something infinite lingering on his tongue.

“i’ve missed you,” he admitted, so softly she almost didn’t hear it.

her heart stuttered, the words settling into the cracks she hadn’t known were still there. “me too.”

and just like that, the world rearranged itself again.

it had been three days, but the memory of her face still lingered on the edges of harry’s consciousness like the afterimage of a camera flash. no matter how many times he blinked, it refused to fade. he felt haunted—not in the dramatic sense of ghosts rattling chains, but in the quiet, insidious way grief lingers, reshaping the air around it. she had looked beautiful, devastatingly so. and when their eyes had met, he swore he felt time buckle under the weight of something he couldn’t acknowledge, not yet.

it was morning now, or what passed for it in january—a hesitant kind of light filtering through the clouds, pale and thin like it didn’t quite belong. harry sat at his kitchen table, a cup of tea cooling between his hands. the mug had been a gift from gemma years ago, the words world’s okayest brother faded from too many cycles through the dishwasher. he liked its imperfection, the way it felt worn and familiar. it reminded him of things that didn’t change, which was a comfort on days like these.

the newspapers were spread out in front of him, though he wasn’t reading them. his eyes kept drifting to the same headline over and over: YN stuns at charity gala, sparking reunion rumors. there was a picture, of course. she was outside, her dress a shadow clinging to her frame, her gaze distant and heavy with thoughts he couldn’t begin to guess at.

it was cruel, he thought, how the world always seemed to capture her in a way that felt so achingly intimate. even in the stillness of a photograph, she looked alive, as though she might step off the page and straight into his arms.

but she wouldn’t.

he hadn’t expected to see her, not after all this time. the last two years had been a lesson in avoidance—of places she might be, of mutual friends who still spoke her name with a fondness that made his chest ache. he had buried himself in work, in music, in anything that might fill the spaces she had left behind. and for a while, it had worked. or at least, it had felt like it did.

until three days ago.

“you’re brooding.”

the voice startled him, and he looked up to find jeff standing in the doorway, a coffee cup in one hand and a knowing look in the other.

“morning to you, too,” harry muttered, running a hand through his hair.

he raised an eyebrow. “you’ve been staring at that paper for the better part of an hour. do you want to talk about it, or should i just pretend i don’t notice?”

“not much to talk about, yeah?”

“uh-huh.” he set his coffee down and slid into the chair opposite him. “you saw her.”

“yeah.”

“and?”

harry sighed, “i dunno. s’like… seeing her again made everything i’ve been trying to forget just resurface. two fucking years of nothing and then—” he gestured vaguely, another sigh falling from his lips.

“you still care about her.”

“‘course i do,” harry said, almost sharply. “but that doesn’t mean it changes anything. timing wasn’t right—we missed out.”

jeff studied him for a moment, then leaned back in his chair. “you know, timing’s a funny thing. but things do change, harry. don’t lose something you never needed to lose in the first place.”

the words hit harder than harry wanted to admit. he didn’t respond, instead lifting his mug to his lips and taking a long sip.

the tea had gone cold.

–

the email arrived in the late afternoon, slipping into her inbox like an intruder she hadn’t invited. YN stared at the screen for a long time, her tea cooling on the windowsill beside her. she didn’t open it right away; instead, she just sat there, the glow of her laptop casting faint shadows on the walls of her living room.

harry’s name stared back at her, bold and impossible to ignore. two years of silence, and now this.

the day had started out quiet. she’d spent the morning working through a script, her highlighter uncapping and capping in time with the low hum of the music she had on in the background. a storm had rolled in sometime around noon, the sky turning the color of damp stone. she liked storms—their chaos, the way they reminded her of things bigger than herself.

she didn’t like this.

her thumb hovered over the trackpad, indecisive. opening the email felt like a betrayal of all the walls she’d built, but leaving it unread felt equally unbearable. the memory of seeing him at the gala, standing there like something carved out of memory and moonlight, tugged at her resolve.

so, she clicked.

subject: reaching out

from: hs@—

to: YN@—

i wasn’t sure if this was still your email. if it’s not, i guess someone else is reading this, which would be… awkward. but if it is you, then: hey.

i know it’s been a while. seeing you the other night caught me off guard. in a good way. you looked beautiful. not that that’s news or anything, but still. it felt worth saying.

i’ve been thinking about you. not in a way that expects anything, just thinking. like in the way you’re in the lyrics i write without thinking. or when i see a blank sheet of paper i think of the origami you’d make on a whim.

this probably sounds ridiculous. i don’t really know what i’m trying to say. maybe just that it was good to see you.

for old times sake: all my stars and moons,

H.

all my stars and moons.

he used to say it with a lopsided smile, his voice soft, reverent, like it was the only way he could capture what she meant to him.

it wasn't just an i love you—it was a promise, a vow that she had been his beginning and his end. her reply had always been equally unorthodox, a kind of shared language only they understood.

she read the email twice, then a third time, the words tumbling through her mind like loose change in a pocket.

it wasn’t much. it wasn’t an apology or an admission or even an invitation. but it was something—a crack in the silence, a thread pulled loose from fabric.

her fingers hovered over the keyboard, her mind a cacophony of what-ifs. she didn’t know what to say—didn’t know if she should say anything.

the cursor blinked at her, patient and unyielding. YN rested her chin in her hand, staring at the blank reply box as if it might conjure the words for her. the storm outside continued its symphony, wind rattling the windowpanes in uneven bursts. it felt fitting—this chaotic, uncertain moment mirrored by the world beyond her walls.

she had typed and deleted half a dozen responses already, each one feeling either too much or not enough.

harry, she’d started, but even his name felt loaded, like a weight she couldn’t quite lift.

it’s good to hear from you. no, too polite, too distant, too not them.

why now? the most honest question, but also the one she didn’t have the courage to ask outright.

she leaned back in her chair, exhaling sharply. part of her wanted to ignore it. to close her laptop, pour another cup of tea, and pretend she hadn’t read it. but that wasn’t who she was—not with him.

because no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much they had broken each other, there was still that small, stubborn part of her that believed in the rightness of them.

she let her fingers hover over the keyboard, her thoughts coalescing into something that felt almost like clarity.

harry,

it is still my email. though if it weren’t, i’d like to think whoever got this would’ve found it endearing.

i don’t know how to describe how it felt seeing you again. unexpected doesn’t feel like enough. i wasn’t ready for it, i guess. not that anyone’s ever really ready to run into their past like that. believe me when i say that you looked even more beautiful.

your email was nice to read, though i’m not sure how to respond to it. i don’t know if i have the right words anymore, or if i ever did. but i’ve been thinking about you too. i’m not sure that ever really stopped, if i’m honest. it’s strange, isn’t it? how someone can take up so much space in your mind, even after so much time has passed.

it’s hard to know what else to say. part of me wonders if we made a mistake. you’re making me remember paper cranes on your coffee table, of mornings where the sunlight always seemed brighter on your side of the bed. remembering makes it harder to pretend like none of it mattered.

but it did. it still does. in ways i can't always explain, and maybe that's why i don't know how to respond. anyway, i guess i just wanted to say that it was good to see you, too.

forever and a day,

YN.

her finger hovered over the send button, her heart hammering in her chest. there was no taking it back once it was gone, no undoing the vulnerability she had laid bare. but she clicked it anyway, the whoosh of the email sending ringing loud in the quiet of her apartment.

forever and a day.

it had been her answer to him, her way of telling him that love wasn't bound by time or space, that it was infinite. it had been their secret, the thread woven through the chaos of their lives.

she didn’t know what would come next. maybe nothing. maybe everything. so, she waited—which only let things unravel further.

the emails became their lifeline over the past few days, a tenuous thread bridging the gap between the past and whatever they were doing now. it had started cautiously—polite acknowledgments, carefully chosen words that skirted too close to old wounds. but as the hours and days wore on, their messages grew longer, softer, laced with the quiet intimacy of people rediscovering the shape of each other.

harry had spent more time staring at his screen than he cared to admit, his fingers hovering over the keys as he tried to balance honesty with restraint. they wrote about everything and nothing—her latest film, a quiet piece shot in the polish countryside, his afternoons spent in the studio, the strange emptiness of passing the time during a break.

sometimes, they slipped into the past. little anecdotes laced with humor or wistfulness, as though they were tiptoeing around the weight of what they’d once shared. he’d told her about the tulips he passed by in the shop one evening, how it made him think of her, if he’d ever buy such a thing for her again—and she’d replied with a teasing remark about how he’d always overthought these things.

it felt natural in a way neither of them had anticipated, like a rhythm they’d rediscovered without meaning to. but beneath the easy flow of words, there was a tension—an unspoken question threading its way through every sentence: what now?

and then, her last email.

he’d read it three times before he noticed the address tucked neatly at the bottom, like an afterthought.

subject: RE: late night thoughts

from: YN@—

to: hs@—

h,

i don’t know why i’m telling you this, but the tulips? i would’ve liked them :)

anyway, you’re right! it’s easier to write like this, but it also feels a bit ridiculous, doesn’t it? like we’re pen pals in some old novel. maybe we should talk.

here’s my address. i’ve moved since before everything happened between us. if you’re ever around, stop by. no pressure though.

YN

harry had laughed aloud when he saw it, shaking his head in disbelief. she hadn’t given him her number, but her address? it was such a maddeningly her thing to do.

he stared at the screen for a while afterward, debating what it meant, whether he should go, what he’d say if he did. and then, as if fate had decided for him, he found himself standing in another flower shop the next afternoon, staring at a display of tulips.

the shopkeeper had been kind, if a bit amused by his indecision. “you can’t go wrong with red,” she’d said, handing him a bunch wrapped in simple brown paper. “everyone likes red, yeah?”

he’d nodded, though his mind had been elsewhere, spiraling through a thousand scenarios of how this meeting might go.

and now, here he was, standing outside her building with the flowers clutched in one hand, his other hand shoved into the pocket of his coat.

he felt ridiculous. what was he doing here, showing up like this? but the thought of turning back felt worse. he buzzed her apartment, his heart pounding as he waited for her voice to crackle through the intercom.

“hello?”

“oh, YN. hi! it’s harry.”

a pause and the breathiest giggle, so quiet harry wasn’t sure if it was her or the crackle of the intercom. “come up.”

once up, she opened the door before he could knock, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of her apartment. she looked different and yet entirely the same—her hair pulled back, her sweater falling loosely over her frame, the kind of effortless beauty that had always undone him.

“hi.”

“hi,” he echoed, offering her a tentative smile.

she glanced at the tulips in his hand, her lips twitching into a small, knowing grin. “you brought flowers.”

“yeah,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “thought about daisies. or lilies. but tulips–”

“you overthought it.”

“probably,” he said, handing them to her. “but you said you would’ve liked them.”

she took the flowers, her fingers brushing his briefly. “i do.”

he hesitated, shifting on his feet. “you didn’t give me your number, but you gave me your address. thought that was funny.”

her laugh was soft, almost shy. “guess i figured if you wanted to talk, you’d show up.”

“and here i am.”

“here you are.”

she stepped aside, letting him in, her apartment warm and inviting in contrast to the chill outside. the space was a bit small but full of character—books stacked haphazardly on shelves, a record player in the corner, the faint scent of tea lingering in the air.

“s’bigger than the last one.”

she hummed, setting the tulips on the counter and reaching for a vase. “it’s cozy.”

he watched her move, his chest tightening at the familiarity of it all—the way she tilted her head when she was concentrating, the slight curve of her mouth as she arranged the flowers.

“i’m surprised you actually came over.”

“‘course i did,” he said, his gaze steady. “you asked.”

“i didn’t think you would.”

he frowned slightly, “oh,” he paused, “why not?”

she shrugged, turning back to the flowers. “it’s been a long time, i guess. people change.”

“how much d’you think changes in two years?”

her hands stilled, her fingers brushing against the edge of a petal. she didn’t look at him, but he could see the way her shoulders tensed, the way her breath caught.

“i don’t know what this is,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

“s’just us talking. that’s all.”

they settled at the island in her kitchen eventually, stools drawn close but not close enough. it wasn’t purposeful—not exactly—but the gap between them felt intentional in its own way, a hesitation they hadn’t yet learned how to breach.

the space was quiet, save for the soft hum of the rain outside and the faint creak of the wood beneath them. the overhead light pooled in warm, golden tones across the countertop, casting long shadows that blurred the edges of the moment.

YN fit into the space like she always did—carefully, like she was trying to take up less room than she was owed. one knee tucked against her chest, her arms wrapped loosely around it, while her other leg dangled from the stool, her toes brushing just lightly against the floor. she turned slightly, her side leaning against the edge of the island, her eyes steady but unreadable.

his own body had never been built for this kind of furniture—too long limbs, too much of him for the delicate frame of the stool. he had to spread his legs wide, one foot braced against the floor to keep himself steady, his elbows resting on the countertop. his fingers toyed with the lip of a glass left abandoned,something to keep them occupied, something to keep them from reaching for her.

and then she said it.

“you’ve written songs about me.”

a statement, not a question. a fact pulled from the quiet places of their past, dusted off and placed between them like an offering.

harry felt the heat climb his neck before he could stop it, the corners of his mouth betraying him with the telltale pull of a smile. a man of twenty-nine reduced to something pink-cheeked and bashful, like a schoolboy caught in the act. his dimples carved deep, his fingers tightening around the glass as if he could pour all of his flustered energy into the curve of it.

“see that head of yours hasn’t gotten any smaller.”

his voice came easy, light with humor, a well-aimed deflection meant to soften the truth. but the truth was written all over him, in the way his gaze lingered, in the way his body angled toward hers as if he couldn’t help but close the distance.

she laughed, and the sound curled into his chest, tucked itself between his ribs like something meant to live there. her cheeks had gone pink too, though whether from the warmth of the room or the warmth of his attention, he wasn’t sure.

she pressed her temple against her knee, a slow, knowing smile stretching across her lips before she murmured—“red wine and ginger ale.”

it was enough to knock the breath from him, to make something stir deep in his gut, something familiar, aching, unshakable.

his grip tightened around the glass, knuckles going white. because of course she remembered. of course she had caught that line, plucked it from the verse and turned it over in her palm like a rare coin.

it had been a memory—hers, theirs, tucked into the lyrics like a secret, hidden in plain sight.

a dinner in chiswick, years ago, where he had ordered exactly that, red wine with ginger ale, because he liked the way the bitterness and sweetness met on his tongue. she had looked at him like he’d just confessed to some great crime, her nose scrunching, her lips parting in that wide-eyed, incredulous way.

“you’re disgusting.”

he had laughed, offered her a sip, only for her to recoil in mock horror. and later, in the taxi home, when he had kissed her, her lips had curled into a smile against his, and she had whispered against his mouth—

“m’never letting you live it down, baby.”

and she hadn’t. for months. for years. because she had hated the drink, but she had loved him, and that was enough.

and now, here she was, saying it back to him, plucking the words from a song meant for millions and holding them up to the light, a knowing glint in her gaze.

“you remember that?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost disbelieving.

“i remember everything.”

the words settled in his stomach, warm and heavy. he stared at her for a long moment, the air between them stretching thin.

he could still taste the memory of her, even now. and he wonders if she knows she’s still his favorite lyric.

time continued to stretch around them, hesitated words and heavy pauses, stolen glances and knuckles that barely grazed each other in fleeting touches.

they moved after that, standing from the stools as if a forced step back would be enough space to stop what hummed between them.

she turned to face him, her eyes searching his. for a moment, the air felt electric, heavy with everything they weren’t saying.

she lingered there, before her body angled toward the window as though she might drift outside. the soft light overhead caught the lines of her face, the curve of her shoulders.

she was beautiful in the way the stars were—distant but unmistakably present, a quiet inevitability against the darkness.

and just like the stars, she had always been there, even when he couldn't see her.

he crossed the room slowly, as though afraid that the floor might give out beneath him. his hands were empty now, his thoughts stripped bare. she turned slightly as he came closer, her eyes meeting his, and he could feel the pull of her, the way she seemed to realign the very fabric of the air between them.

YN could feel it, the frequency only the two of them could hear, a static that crackles in the air between bodies too familiar to be strangers, too distant to be anything else. the static that translated into pins and needles along their lips. the static, buzzing heat in their chest, not fire, not yet—but the ember that never fully died, flickering in the place where love was buried but never truly laid to rest.

"you came back.” she echoed from before, though it was less saturated in disbelief but rather dripping with solace.

he looked up, his throat tightening—the ache of déjà vu wrapped in silk. his body remembers before his mind does—remembers the press of his palm against the small of her back, the weight of his mouth against hers, the way her breath used to tremble when she whispered his name.

you never left he wanted to say, but the syllables tangled in his throat, thick as honey, heavy as grief. because she hadn’t—not really. she lingered in each pause between heartbeats, in the empty quiet of rooms too big and beds too cold.

so, he keeps his mouth shut. he leans in, nose barely grazing hers. she can feel the flutter of his eyelashes against her cheek as his head tilts, he can feel the tremble of her breath.

he was merely a shipwreck, his body leaning toward the tide even as his mind screamed to stay ashore. but the tide is warm, and the tide is her, and oh—how easy it would be to drown again.

the collapse of distance, the death of restraint.

the air between them is thick with ruin and remembrance, a graveyard of every night they spent apart, every moment they spent pretending this wasn’t inevitable.

but the body is merciless in its remembering.

her breath stutters again as his fingertips ghost over her jaw, tracing the path of old devotion, the map of a love that never truly faded. it’s not a hesitation, not a question—it’s reverence, the final breath before a prayer is spoken. and then—

then he kisses her.

it’s not soft, not gentle. it’s every unsaid word, every agonizing hour, every night spent staring at the ceiling wondering if the she felt it too. it’s the pull of gravity, of fate, of something written into constellations.

his mouth slants over hers like a plea, like an apology, like a man succumbing. and she—she meets him with a hunger that borders on violent, fingers fisting in his collar, dragging him closer, closer, as if she could consume him, as if she could crawl inside his ribs and carve her name there all over again.

it tasted like champagne and ripe fruit, like summer bursting behind teeth and getting stuck there. peaches, maybe, or strawberries picked in the height of july. his tongue slid against hers like silk against satin, heady—red wine drunk too quickly, the dizzied sweetness of berries crushed between thumb and forefinger.

it didn’t seek, did not demand; it reclaimed, a vow remade in flesh.

his tongue curled, coaxed, tangled in the wet heat of her mouth. it was slow, decadent—the first pull of opium in the lungs, the hush of velvet being drawn through greedy fingers.

and when he deepened it—when he pulled her flush, let the kiss bleed into something savored, something syrup-thick, cursive against the roof of her mouth—she tasted it:

forgiveness, the hands of a clock rewinding.

not spoken, not granted, but exchanged in the language of tongue and teeth. of breath shared between gasps, of bodies rediscovering the art of belonging.

when they part, it is not for lack of wanting.

it’s for breath, for sanity, for the simple fear that if they do not stop now, they never will. she licked her lips—not to rid herself of him, but to commit him to memory.

"YN.” he murmured, her name nothing more than a breath, a vow, a benediction.

she swallowed, throat tight, her pulse a bird trapped beneath her skin. she wanted to say something, anything—wanted to capture this moment in words before it slipped through her fingers like sand.

but there was no language for this.

there was no word for what it meant to be kissed like that—like time had never moved forward, like they had never parted, like the years apart were nothing more than a cruel trick of the universe. no word for the way his tongue had found hers, the way he had kissed her not just with his lips, but with the sum of his longing, the marrow-deep ache of missing her. no word for the way she had melted into him, the way her mouth had answered his like it had been waiting all this time.

so she didn’t speak.

instead, she pressed her fingers against his mouth, feeling the shape of his lips beneath them, like trying to hold onto a dream before waking. and maybe he understood, because he only smiled—soft, knowing, his hands still firm against her skin.

all my stars and moons, he had said once.

forever and a day, she had answered.

[hairmetal666]

They start kissing on stage as a joke.

The night before the first time, they're at an afterparty, pounding shots, and Eddie is reading aloud a piece that just came out in Rolling Stone. "'One of the most noteworthy parts of Munson and Harrington's unlikely pairing is their chemistry on stage. It's like these two men--one on his way to being the latest metal god, the other an indie rock wunderkind--are two parts of one musical whole. Their singing, their playing, even their bodies twine and flow with assuredness; where one goes, the other follows without question. They share a single brain-cell and that cell is music'."

Steve giggles, pours some more Grey Goose into the glass. "If they say that now, could you imagine what would happen if we, like, kissed on stage or something."

"What the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie splutters, having just thrown a drink back.

"I don't know, other bands do it!"

Eddie snorts. "I'm cutting you off." He reaches for the bottle and the suggestion is forgotten for wrestling over the liquor.

Steve barely remembers it in the morning. Doesn't think about it at all as he gets ready to go out on stage.

They're playing one of the instrumental breakdowns when it happens. They're leaning into each other, Eddie smiling over his shoulder at him, their eyes locked, bodies moving together. "You wanna?" Eddie mouths at him.

Steve nods before the question actually registers and by then Eddie's warm, soft mouth is against his and he just-- completely forgets what he's doing. His hands still on the guitar strings, and he melts a little, going completely boneless when Eddie grips the back of his head, pulls him deeper into the kiss. t's over almost as quickly as it started, Eddie pulling away and swirling to the mic to start the next verse.

The kiss sinks into Steve's bones, and that's before it becomes a regular feature of their performances. After that night, they're never at the same time during the show, all initiated by Eddie, all over before he can catch his breath; each one chaste and surrounded by people but somehow more intimate than any make out.

He and Eddie, they're friends, bandmates, collaborators. They've known each other since they first started out, forging an immediate connection with they stumbled upon each other hiding out in the garden at some industry bigwig's party. And as much as he loved his friend, never once in that time had Steve considered wanting Eddie.

But now, now he falls asleep with the ghost of Eddie on his lips, goes into each show with a thrum of anticipation, catches himself thinking how beautiful his friend is when he's all rumpled and disheveled from a night in the tour bus bunks.

They've always been easy with physical affection, but once the kissing starts they're constantly in each other's space, idly playing with hair, laying across laps, heads on shoulders, twisting together on the tour bus couch. Steve is ruined with every touch, every moment; he can't get enough.

The first time Eddie uses tongue destroys every last piece of Steve's composure. They've added a new song to the setlist, a remixed version of Eddie's hit "Prince Charming". It's hard, heavy, sexy, one of Steve's favorites. And in the middle of it, right in the middle, Eddie shoves him against a low platform, kisses him like he's trying to own him, tongues twining eager and wet and full of sinful promise. It's like that every show after, Eddie kissing him deep and thorough, like he's trying to lick up every drop of Steve.

He is, unquestionably, fucked. Unquestionably falling. Can't properly fathom how he'd gotten himself here, desperate for Eddie's kiss, as performative as it may be.

They're packing up equipment after a show. Eddie's hair is piled in a messy bun and Steve is trying not to blatantly stare at the curve of his neck, the stray curls against his pale skin. Eddie's gesturing at something, says, "Can you grab those cords, swee--Steve?" He hands them over without thought, notices that Eddie's face is shining red. He's called away to deal with packing the guitars, forgets all about it, but at their next show, Eddie doesn't kiss him.

They don't talk about it.

Eddie doesn't try to kiss him again.

A week after Eddie stops the kiss, they have a night off between shows. He needs to get out of his head, goes out with Robin. He gets back fairly early, but all the lights are off in the bus. It makes him panic in a way it shouldn't; they've always done their own things. Still, he rushes on board, flips on the lights, his absurd heart beating too hard.

Eddie is curled up on the couch, face pressed to the pillows and covered with his hands. The panic kicks up a notch.

"Eddie?" He steps closer, slowly reaching out to grip Eddie's shoulder.

He jerks upright, earbuds slipping free, phone sliding down his hip. "Steve?"

His face is wet, tears actively slipping free from his eyes as Steve watches.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands flutter around Eddie's arms and face, searching for bruises or wounds.

"I'm fine, Harrington," he chokes out. "Though you were out with Robin?"

"Yeah, I was, but Chrissy called. You know how useless she gets. But that doesn't--you--you're crying. What's wrong?"

Eddie's smile is a wobbly little thing, refusing to stick on his face. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fell for the wrong guy."

Steve forces down the gut churning hurt at hearing that Eddie's in love with someone, intent on comforting his friend. He tries to slip his arm around Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie shrugs him off. It jostles Eddie's phone again, slipping it toward Steve and activating the screen. He has a split second where he's looking at the cover of his own first album, before Eddie's snatching it out of reach, scrambling up from the couch.

"I'm fine." He swipes his sleeve over his face. "It's nothing."

And Steve is putting it all together, the being in love and listening to Steve's music, the kissing and how it ended.--

"Eddie." He sounds all wrong, choked and garbled.

Eddie doesn't turn around, is stuffing his feet into his boots. "I'm--I gotta go clear my head."

He walks towards the door and Steve just--"I've been obsessed with you since the first kiss," he says. Eddie stops, hand curled against the door. "We've been friends all this time and I didn't--I never realized. And then we kissed and--it's all I've been able to think about."

Eddie turns then, facing him, expression unreadable."Steve, what are you--"

"I love you. I'm in love with you." It comes out fast, all jumbled, but he can't stand Eddie leaving, not now.

"You--?" Eddie blinks, bites his lip. "That's not possible."

Steve smiles, can't help it. "It is, though. Turns out, I can't get enough."

Their eyes lock; neither speaks. Steve's heart pounds so hard it might spring free of his chest. Eddie moves first, crosses the small distance between them to pull Steve into his arms.

It's not a kiss, but Steve buries his face against Eddie's neck, breathing him in, feeling the echo to the pound of his own heart. "How long?" Steve asks.

Eddie's soft laugh vibrates through him. "Since I saw you walking in that garden and thought, 'jesus christ, Prince Charming is real'."

Steve pulls away to stare at Eddie in disbelief. "But that's--your--the song?"

"They're kinda all about you, Stevie. But that one most of all." Eddie whispers. His eyes glisten.

"Fuck, Eddie." He doesn't mean to whine, but he's not in control of his voice anymore. "I'm sorry I didn't--" He shakes his head. "I'm all yours, Ed. Whatever you want."

Eddie's thumb catches against Steve's bottom lips, eyes transfixed on his mouth. "Everything, sweetheart. I want it all."

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 1.

Next

*Author's note: this was not beta and was written at midnight.

Two years. That's how long you had been struggling to survive in hell. The experiments had been brutal in every way imaginable. In the end they had gotten their goal: a meta human capable of healing any illness or wound, with an extended life span.

However you had come out of it too defiant. Some part of you had clung to the child's hope you're family would swoop in and save you. Sure they were often busy and didn't have time for you, but they had still cared right? There was no way they hadn't noticed you were missing for two years. No they had to be on the case, maybe just waiting for that last clue. A clue you would give them by escaping your captors and spitting in the scientist's face as your family torn their facilities apart. Beside, you were capable of escaping by yourself so who cared that they didn't show up.

The security system at the front gates still recongized your fingerprint and retinas. Walking up the pathway, you admired the gardener's work. It looked so different from when you were last here. There was a bubbling in your stomach. Imagines flash in you mind of your brothers being so happy to see you.

Dick with his wide smile, wrapping you in his arms. He would check for injuries and you two would finally have that movie night he promised two years ago. Jason would demand answers and swear to make whoever hurt you pay. You knew he would do it to, all so you could sleep easy knowing they couldn’t hurt you anymore. Tim would listen before getting to work. He would ensure everyone connected to the experiments would be destroyed. Hunt down their suppliers and financial providers. They would protect and help you move past the experiments.

After them were your sisters. Babs, Cass, and Steph would let you in to girls night this time. You would get to watch those cringy 'reality' TV shows, take part in the fashion show, and play around the whole night. Than in the morning Babs would help the boys take out the experiments. Cass and Steph would be right there with them of course before teaching you how to defend yourself.

Alfred would also help you. He would tutor you and help you catch up on school you missed. Not running off to help the others. Just you too bonding. Maybe he would even read the Wizard of Oz to you. Just he promised when you were five.

Lastly, your father Bruce Wayne. He would finally pay attention to you. Postpone his business meetings, decline the galas, take a night off from patrol as Batman because his baby girl was home. The last remaining shred of your mother and his lover. You would be important enough for him.

You blinked as your hand touch cold metal. The front door. Right you must have gotten lost in thoughts again. You could feel every hope you tucked into the hidden part of you heart over the past two years creep out of the shadows. They started to clean the cobwebs out of and prepare the space for warmth.

The door creaked up to a dreary entrance hall. You couldn't put your finger on what made the space feel dark. Sunlight still pour through the grand windows. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere to be seen. Yet there was a weight in the air that made the room feel empty and wrong. It looked and felt as if you had never left.

You began to wonder the halls in search of anyone. The quiet pressed down on your shoulders and feet. You never had thought you would miss the continuous buzz of medical equipment you couldn't name. Yet that seem better the suffocating silence that was clawing at you. You heard a faint noise from the living room.

Sitting in the living room was Tim, Steph, and Jason. Tim was texting on his phone, Jason was reading, and Steph was eating popcorn as she watched a show. It was normal.

Completely normal.

It was as if you hadn't disappeared for two years. Steph turned to look at you, a fistful of popcorn suspended mid-air, "Hey. How you doing?"

"I'm..." Your throat felt like gum. Her reaction was disappointing? Confusing? You couldn't think of the right word, "fine."

"That’s good." She turned back to the TV. Conversation over. Tim and Jason didn't even look up from what they were doing. You shuffled to the next room in a daze.

The kitchen felt like it had also barely changed. There were some new appliances but they sat where the old ones had. Dick and Cass leaned against the center island enjoying steaming cups of something. Cass turned to nod at you and Dick smiled at brightly, "Hey (Name). It's been a minute, how you doing?"

Your head tilted to the side. Two years had to be more than 'a minute'. A weight began to push against the hopes in your heart. They slowed their cleaning, a few began to retreat back to the darkness. You blinked twice before answering, "Fine. Where... where's dad?"

"Oh I think B had a business trip this week. He'll be back Tuesday." Dick shrugged before someone walked into the kitchen. Someone new. He was taller than Cass and shorter than Dick but not by much. He was also young, you would bet a few years younger than Tim. Dick gave him an even brighter smile, "Hey Duke."

"Who's this?" You pointed at him and blinked. Was a friend of Tim's? Maybe Steph?

"Oh, you two weren't introduced. Duke this is-" Dick patted Duke on the shoulder gesturing to you.

"(Name)"

"Duke Thomas. Alfred didn't mention anyone else living in the manor." Duke gave you a friendly smile and held out his hand. You shook it but could feel your head spinning. This didn't make sense.

"Alfred didn't mention me?" The words felt blocky. It was like you were a computer shutting down. Not only was everyone acting normal, there was a new person and it seemed like they knew you were gone. "I'm sorry, I'm not feeling well. I... I'm gonna go... lie down."

"Oh, okay." Duke's face scrunched up. He looked as confused as you felt. You left the kitchen dazed, clinging to the hall as your feet stumbled to your bedroom.

Something wasn't right. Why was everyone acting like you had just gone on a trip? You were gone for two years. Ripped out of the garden and held captive for two years in horrifying conditions. Submitted to endless hours of shocks, shots, burns, and twisted wires to a point it all blend into a red flim in your memory. All that before finally escaping just to have everyone act like you had been on vacation.

Your thoughts were interrupted with a sudden harsh shove. A hand gripped your shoulder tightly creating temporary bruises on your skin. Ringing took over the cacophonous noise in your head. As you looked at your attacker you saw a boy. He wasn't that much taller or older than you. His mouth moved and you barely registered his words, "Who are you? How did you get into the manor?"

Something froze. This boy looked like a copy of your dad. There was a feeling of having all the puzzle pieces but no way to connect them. The bigger picture so blurred you couldn't tell what was supposed to go where. A voice broken the silence, "Master Damian! Unhand her this insistence."

Alfred. Surely he knew what was going on. He could tell you why everyone was acting like you were on vacation instead of kidnapped, or who this new boy was and why he looked like your dad.

The boy looked to Alfred but his hand didn't leave your shoulder, "Who is she and how did she bypass the manor's security?"

"She is your half sister." Alfred marched towards you. Taking Damian's hands from you, he placed himself in between you two. "She has been away at a boarding school for the past two years."

The pieces clicked with a deafening pop. Boarding school. It made sense now why everyone was so causal. You weren't kidnapped in their eyes, you had simply been sent away. Your coming back was expected on some level.

Another realization hit shortly after that. Boarding schools ment tuition payments that were expected to be paid by 'loving parents' who knew where there children were. Boarding school explained when a kid was missing from a wealthy for a period of time to those who would care to ask. A boarding school was the perfect cover for experiments in a highly secured facility.

Surely your dad wouldn't do that, right? He's Batman, a protector of the city. Someone who was ment to be moral and a role model. More importantly, you were what remained of your mother. The last piece of her and your dad's picture book romance. The billionaire CEO that falls in love with his secretary. This had to be a misunderstanding or miscommunication.

Damian's voice cut through your thoughts, again. "How old are you?"

"What?" The question was mis-timed and absurd to be asked immediately after he attacked you.

"I must ensure I am still the eldest blood child and father's heir." He said it so matter of fact like. As if he already knew the answer but wanted to confirm it.

"Ten."

"Hmm. We are the same age." He glared at you through Alfred before lifting his chin, "Date of birth."

"You first." You hated this boy already. He was as self-righteous and arrogant as the scientists in that damn place. Defiance crackled in your veins at the thought. You would not answer anymore questions from him.

"Both of you, stop it. Miss (Name) was born on (DOB) the year after you. You are older but not by much. Master Damian was born on November 11th" Alfred said the words and there was another pop.

"I'm going to my room." You didn't care what was said after that. It was like a wildfire started in your heart. Consuming the oxygen in your lungs to breath was impossible. You could feel them dying. Your hopes, succumbing to the flames, burning away to ash. Some part of you tried to save them with hot tears. It was already too late.

Your room felt like a tomb tucked away in the attic. A thin layer of dust coated everything, telling you not even Alfred bothered to come up here. Good, you wanted to be alone.

The numbers ran in your head again. Than once more. They raced through your head, years, timelines, before finally settling. In order for you and Damian to be born by those dates, your father had to be cheating on your mother with his. That or Bruce had used your mother to get over Damian's. You stumbled towards your dusty bed and fished around underneath it. Pulling out your mother's diary you began to skim the pages.

Swirls flew past your fingers. Finally you they ran over her cursive letters. "Bruce mentioned a woman name Talia. He talked about her with a mix of longing and betrayal. I wonder what happened?" There it was. The crack in your mother's love story, Talia.

Maybe it had been a whirlwind romance for your mother. Her diary was proof of that but your father. No, you couldn't prove she was important to him and by proxy you. Maybe you were so unimportant, unwanted, he could hand you other to those scientists and tell everyone it was a boarding school. All you had to do was prove it and burn him down.

Talia would never admit that she check on Damian frequently. No if anyone asked she was ensuring he followed his training regime. That didn't stop the surprise however to see a girl his age approach the manor gates.

She carried herself with a purpose but lack all the tells of training. Yet that wasn't what held Talia's attention, it was her eyes. They held a cautious fire and moved like she expected it be put out at any moment. It caused Talia's sixth sense to kick in, the one that told her this girl had potential that just need to be refined.

She followed her into the manor. Sure the security system was a pain but she need more information on this girl. When Damian shoved the girl into the wall Talia became certain of two things. One Damian was upholding his training and two this girl did have potential.

She didn't flinch at the knife to her throat. Talia doubted it even registered as a small amount of blood came out. When the butler interfered, Talia almost missed it. The wound sealed shut and the blood evaporated to leave no trace of a wound. Yes, this girl had potential.

"(Name) Wayne. Hmm, I've always wanted a daughter."

Next

[merletka]

Collaborated with amazing writer @alexcors and illustrated her fanfic about Damian Wayne. You can read it bellow! 💚

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

– Concussion, multiple beatings, fracture of the collarbone, two ribs and the radius of the right arm, with multiple fragments. Do you have anything to say to that, Robin?

– This dealer raised his hand himself, covering his worthless face. What?

– You beat the suspect to a pulp! Batman barked at his son. – No patrols until Cantelli is transferred from the intensive care unit to the general ward.

– But…

– That's all.

Damian clenched his teeth, but at the last moment decided not to fight with his father over a small dealer. Cantelli wasn't worth it. And therefore, having drowned himself, the boy just fell asleep.

***

The morning began with the usual five o'clock wake-up, a workout with pruning the squalid park art that Damian disapproved of in his garden. And he was already tired of explaining to Pennyworth that the enemy could be hiding behind large figures! Then a walk with Titus on a leash, Alfred the cat on his shoulder (because the mustachioed one did not want to wake up in any way) and a red-haired squeaking lump in his hands.

The kitten was dragged by a Red Hood a couple of days ago, startling Damian at first by pronouncing his full name without hesitation (few people in the family could pronounce Hafid ibn Ksufash Dami al Ghul even from the third time), and then by an attack of compassion for the animal. However, the boy quickly recovered from the shock, named the red kitten Roy Harper and now did not miss the opportunity to tease brother with the phrase "You gave me your accomplice, Todd."

By eight in the morning, Damian had time to check on the bat cow, comb Goliath, lose the nimble red Harper and find him sleeping peacefully in the cowshed. In general, Batman's heir successfully redid all his affairs, even phoned each Teen Titan individually and gave valuable instructions. On little things like different time zones, young Wayne habitually waved his hand, and everyone also grabbed a moral slap on the back of the head for trying to be indignant:

– Do it, Beast!

– Buzz me here again, Bug!

– The aliens were not given a word.

– Witch!

Damian belatedly realized that arguing with Raven was not worth it, because the importance of portals to any part of the world is difficult to overestimate. Fortunately, he knew about the weakness of every member of his team, and in Raven's case, it was sweets. Especially his sweets, with honey and spicy notes, which the girl fell in love with from the first bite. He will have to share again… She's definitely a witch!

At nine o'clock sharp, Pennyworth served breakfast, with tea in fine china, brown sugar, a slice of lemon and... an envelope?

- You have received an invitation, Master Damian.

- It's not interesting, - the boy muttered, finished with the meal and dryly told him not to disturb him. He was going to decide the fate of the world here, and they came with some kind of invitations!

However, the plan to destroy all (crossed out) almost all people did not come to mind, but the world itself lay perfectly on paper with watercolor paints, fortunately the view from the window was conducive to this. Up to a certain point.

– Todd!

- Hello to you too, Gremlin, - the Red Hood replied, climbing into his brother's bedroom through the window, while unsuccessfully clinging to the tulle with the toe of his boot.

- Pennyworth will bury you for this.

– Yes, yes, and will plant roses from above. Not that I mind much, but that's not the point right now. Get ready to go out.

Damian took a deep breath and unleashed his entire supply of Arabic obscenities on his brother, knowing full well that Jason would understand him. Unfortunately, the pressure of the negativity did not take him back out the window, he had to take up a katana.

– Put the skewer down, shorty, the meat has just been sent to marinate.

– Will you leave on your own or will you be thrown out in parts?!

– Shut up and listen to me, - Todd barked, casually showing off his pistols with the safety off. – In short, Alfie organizes a family get-together, with meat and without a fight. Dad promised to be, I'll bring a replacement, the Gotham crime storm in a thong will come running himself. You got the simplest thing – to lift your little ass off the chair and walk to the place. You can take the menagerie with you.

- I'm not going to any gatherings with my father," Damian muttered, but he put away his saber. – So you can get out and report your failed mission. I'm not leaving my room today, basically!

- No questions,– Jason agreed surprisingly easily. - But if you walk out the door, you're going to hang out with everyone, okay?

– Tt.

–That's settled,– Jason grinned, ducked out the window and disappeared.

Damian managed to exhale with relief, when suddenly something buzzing flew over the windowsill. Titus reacted first, barking loudly at the wasp's nest rolling on the floor!

- You're dead, Todd! - Damian yelled, unceremoniously grabbing the cat and rushing out the door with him and the dog.

***

- No corpses,– Grayson repeated calmly but firmly (for the fifth time!).

- I'll beat him up so that no Lazarus Pit will help, - the boy grumbled into the phone, the call to which stopped him from righteous revenge.

– Alfred said it clearly, without a fight. Let's get together with the whole family, have a nice time, have a delicious meal.

– Tt.

– We have chosen a picturesque place by the lake, you will like it.

–Okay, - the Batman heir finally gave up. – But only because painting was part of my plans today.

– It's wonderful, – judging by the sound, Dick broke into his trademark smile. – You will draw a beautiful landscape.

– I'll paint it! Artists paint with paints, you idiot.

– And I love you, little brother.

– Tt.

Author: @alexcors

[ch3rrybbie]

hii since you're taking requests could you write something with azriel? maybe something where reader is bonding with Lucien over unrequited mates (except azriel doesn't know they're mates, it has only snapped for her) and she thinks he wouldn't want her but he totally does and is super jealous and then happy ending lol. thanks!

Afterglow

Warnings: angst, reader is depressed?, mentions of canon violence

Note from author: tysm for the request, uni is being uni atm so struggling to write so quick lol but I hope you love itttttt will try get other request and next Randall part out heheh.

———

Lucien had to take you to the great open of the spring court. He was desperate to console you. His worry was etched across his face and yet you felt nothing.

So he sat beside you and waited.

———

You started off into the vastness of the green. Breathe. If you squinted a little the scenery grew blander and reminded you of the mortal lands.You thought back to how this pain had grown.

Your mother had always warned you love made you weak. She saw how deeply you loved Feyre at such a young age, you’d go tripping over branches just to be near her. She saw that if that was how much you loved a friend , to truly love someone would almost certainly destroy you. And human turned fae you felt how much the bond was too heavy to carry.

Your love for Feyre took you north of the border, you were by her side through every fight. Fists clenched and teeth bared. She was your sister and you fought like it. You’d seen every turn of leaf with her and you were so ecstatic to see her reunited with her blood sisters with a baby on the way truly, finally happy.

Yet you were in despair.

———

You, Feyre and Lucien had an instant bond. You rode all over the spring courts, ate, danced and laughed together. Tamlin however, your lip curled at the thought of him.

After being whisked away to the house of wind you remember the exact day you met the cause of all this hurt.

You’d suddenly felt a presence coming, you turned to Rhysand and demanded to know who was here. Both Feyre and Rhysand were stunned as you were still human. Then he approached alongside Cassian and you could barely tear your eyes away. Your heart knew him, your soul , your very being.

And yet he was nothing but sterile towards you only relinquishing a firm nod. Cassian on the other hand swept you up like a mighty warm wave telling you he’d heard lots about you.

———

Months later when your mission to Hybern went disastrously wrong the pain of seeing Azriel broken and dying on the hard stone floor made you want to sweep him up into your arms. All splashing and screaming from Nesta and Elaine had been tuned out you couldn’t help but stare at him breathing cinched. You tried shouting down whatever feeling you had but nothing. Your eyes urged him to get up, look up anything.

“Bring her”, the king lazily waved his hand at you. His men dragged you by your hair, you writhed and screamed.Closer and closer they dragged you level with Azriel and the others. The great hall span and they slammed your head against the stone, chaos ensued with Feyre screaming and Elaine wailing.

In your blurred state you opened your eyes to see shadows and a scarred hand straining your way.

You awoke the freezing water. The cauldron was somehow ice and fire it burned and cooled. It was life and death itself. You prepared yourself to accept the latter.

The mother lent down and kissed your eyes,she bound her blood to yours and gave you a gift.

You didn’t remember much after that.

———

You were in a coma for many moons, Feyre and Rhys sent for healers across the land mostly because your gift from the mother had shown itself. Your longing for home had caused the room they rested you in to be flourishing. It was a sight to behold even Nesta admitted.

Great roots twined around the bedposts, ivy curled around the door, moss and wiry grass shot up from the carpets and flowers bloomed. Elaine took to maintaining your garden, Nesta read to you and Feyre wept over you and stroked your hair. When Lucien had arrived to court he ran straight to your room and shadows seemed to watch over you in everyone’s absence.

Everyone did their part in looking after you, everyone but Azriel.

Throughout your sleep, the flowers rustled, grass weaved its way up to you and roots kept watch. All whispered the events around you, another odd gift of the Mother.

The day you awoke you wasted no time in searching for Azriel, the last you remembered he was dying. You followed the great rope in your soul that had replaced the string that previously tugged you to him.

The study was still and beautiful as you remembered, more so in his presence. His wings grew taught as he sensed your presence. “I’m awake” you couldn’t help but proclaim.

He turned, “I can see that” he coldly threw back.

Your world crumbled, even as fae he couldn’t love you or even feel more than indifference.

He brushed past you, “I shall alert the others”.

You shoulders sank, and yet your heart warmed at the thought of seeing everyone. After an hour of being grabbed, hugged and kissed. You’d all shed as much tears as you could. Feyre and Lucien offered to walk you to your room.

Before you slipped into your room you couldn’t help but ask, “Is he okay?l”. They didn’t even need to ask who, Luciens face softened and Feyres grew taught.

“The past few months have been hard for him Y/N”, Feyre gently lay a hand on your shoulder.

You attempted to be sympathetic before losing control of your temper, “And it wasn’t hard for me?! The least he could’ve done was visit once!” You threw the great oak door to your room open and slammed it in their faces uncaring of how juvenile you were being.

“Y/N” Feyre pleaded, you heard Lucien pull her gently away stating you needed space.

You allowed your anger to flow out of you, translating into great black ropes of thorns growing everywhere and they bowed out of the way of no one but you. That’s not to say everyone didn’t try. One by one they knocked and burst in, only to be defeated by thorns which was entertaining for awhile until you realised yet again everyone came but him.

You send crawling ivy about the house searching for him. It found him in the garden with Elaine, you let it shrivel and die there. You didn’t care who saw anymore.

The thorns grew sharper.

———

Lucien burst in one afternoon he didn’t speak a word, he barelled straight to you. Strands of his fiery hair and drops of blood left in his wake. He grabbed your wrist dragging you out of the fetal position. He winnowed you to the only place he had ever truly seen you happy.

Spring court.

———

“She’s gone!” Feyre cried panicked as she burst into the study. Rhys rushed to her as Cassian and Azriel shared a confused glance.

“Who?” Rhys questioned.

“Y/N, Lucien went up to try coax her out and they’re gone”

Rhys and Cassian froze anticipating Az’s reaction.

Azriel stormed out the room with Cassian not far behind.

“Az where in the cauldrons name are you going we don’t know where she is yet”

“I don’t need to know” he spat back

Cassian gripped his shoulder, “Don’t be stupid” he chastised

“What if it was Ness”

Cassian let him go stunned into silence.

Rhys informed Az mentally you were in the spring court offering to winnow him but he was gone and soaring towards his heart.

———

Lucien carefully started to talk from beside you.

“We were so happy here so I just- , I don’t know I thought I could force that joy back” he looked at your mournful gaze and sighed.

“He’s your mate isn’t he?”

Your head snapped towards him, Lucien could’ve sworn the grass did too.

“Elaine is mine”

The wind stopped and the grass stood still.

You said nothing crawling closer and laying your head on his shoulder, you felt at home.

You felt like a child again.

Tears blurred your vision and you let them slip.

The wind resumed, grass swaying peacefully.

“You know I’ll always love you Lucien no matter what, I mean not like that but you know”

He roared with laughter making you jump and burst out laughing.

You both calmed and watched the vast fields you could’ve sworn you heard the roars of Tamlin in the distance. He stayed away nonetheless.

You rested your head back on Lucien’s shoulder and your tears swelled again.

“What do we do?” you mournfully asked him.

You felt him breathe in sharply before cutting out

“I don’t know” a pause, “but I know you can’t do what you were doing we’re worried about you and rightfully so, I mean you’re been down right lazy. And so cliche, come on thorns-“

You cut him off shoving him over, you never would get used to the new strength you had.

You saw the playful glint in his eye and lept to your feet sprinting away he gave chase and you were back to where you started running around fields being chased by one of the platonic loves of your life. You wished Feyre could happily be here again.

But you finally felt happy again.

Truly.

———

Azriel no longer had to sense your presence he heard your giggles from afar. What he saw made his fists curl. Lucien had grabbed you and started spinning you around. His fury pushed him to land with an earth shattering crack.

He advanced on Lucien as he dropped you in confusion.

“Azriel what are you doing-“

Lucien fell to the ground as Azriel shoved him with thankfully not all of his might.

You surged forward to come between the two. Azriel felt as though the reedy grass was wrapping around his legs.

“What in the cauldron are you doing?!” You yelled, fury sounding across the clearing.

Lucien’s eye squinted as he assessed the situation a slow smile crept onto his face, “I’ll leave you two to it”.

He disappeared.

Azriel still seemed furious, “You can’t just disappear like that Y/N you scared us half to Hybern and back”

Your rage was once again summoned , “Do not delude yourself into thinking you care for me Azriel”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He spat back

You felt your hands start to shake with anger coursing through you, all this time he disregards and runs from you and NOW he wanted to play possessive.

“You do not get to turn up and demand me to stay at your beck and call when half the time you fly out any room I enter! Shouldn’t you be guarding Elaine or finding places to hide from me”.

Shame finally dared cross his face and he turned from you. His shadows grew more agitated. They retracted from being near you, their proximity startling you.

You turned on your heel and marched into the woods, you needed to get away from him. Before your rage turned into a confession.

“Y/N” you heard him mutter.

You fell into a soft march that was further percussioned by his footfall.

Great knarled trees lining the meadow attempted to stop him from entering the dense forest but he pushed through his shadows staying a whisper away from you.

His shadows didn’t bother reporting back to him.

He knew where you were.

Hunched over the pool of starlight he could’ve sworn you’d crawled out of it,the softening sun cast a glow through the dense trees, a fallen star had come and somehow stolen his heart.

He didn’t even want it back.

———

The pool transfixes you, Feyre had shown it to you during your time there and it soon became your private diary. Little whispers you’d let skim across the surface and lift the weight from your shoulders. When you met the inner circle and came to know Velaris you were so sure you were home. That the stars had listened. You were now sure they must’ve forsaken you, ripped out your heart and replaced it with a dying star.

You paid no mind to the crunch of leaves, you’d already felt him follow you there was no need for him the make his presence known.

“Go home” you spat coldly eyes not lifting from the pool of starlight.

“Come home with me” he gently offered.

“My home is closer to here than I ever thought it could be in Velaris” you muttered.

His hurt was palpable.

Good.

As Lucien just did he relented and came and sat next to you in silence.

The dying star inside you was getting darker with the realisation you’d always feel like way about him and you couldn’t have a mortal lifespan this would be generations of hurt.

So you spoke.

“Why Azriel, why are you here who sent you” you muttered dejected.

“No one. I-….” He trailed off lost thought, jaw clenched with the unspoken.

“Tell the truth” you sighed.

“Please just for once in all the time you’ve known me give me something” you begged.

He looked back over to you, wind brushing over you how he longed to.

He steeled himself, guard finally dropping.

“I was so afraid watching you that day”.

Silence as your brow furrowed.

“Your human body was so fragile, tossed around like blown sand.” Eyes tearful and locked on you.

“And I had to lie there dying and watch you almost die and that was a greater anguish than anything they could’ve unleashed on me”. He sighed as he saw you squint at him.

You stood angrily finger pointed at him as Nesta did. He couldn’t help his lip twitching,you really were one of them.

“If this is some ploy to bring me back to Velaris you will find you’re sorely mistaken in its use.” A great seething hiss of air spat at him.

He couldn’t help but laugh, only you could take a confession with suspicion. From almost crying to the woman he loves to laughing in her face, could this day get any worse?

“You jest?! I laid in wait of you for seven moons Azriel and you were nowhere to be seen! Lusting after Elaine I suppose” A dry laugh cut from your mouth.

All humour abandons him

“Is that what you suppose?” He huffed.

He rounded on you and stood towering, gathering the patience he needed to confess.

Patience found he continued.

“I couldn’t bear to see you laid there unmoving” he breathed deeply he looked furious. “I’d only just recovered so I sent my shadows although I suspected they were already watching when I couldn’t”.

Your face softens. Shoulders sagging.

He continues, breaking those walls you so flimsily held against him.

“For that I apologise, I should’ve been there no matter how much it hurt. I was with Elaine because her gardening reminded me of you the most” he smiles “after you so spontaneously decided to decorate it was the closest thing I had to you, the only thing of you I could touch”

Your lips part in want.

“I have wanted you from the moment I smelt you, and when I saw you my fate was sealed” he smirks at your lust struck face, hand going to cup it.

“Why not tell me?”

“I saw how well Elaine and Lucien’s discovery went” he smoothed his fingers against your lips.

You seized his hand, “I felt it when I was human, I felt you when I was human and I always will”.

Tension was strung like the fireflies now floating above you as dusk encroached.

He smiled and crushed his lips to yours in what felt like a thousand years of longing.

You both drew back just staring at each other,relief blatant.

“Let’s go home” his eyes pleaded.

“Sure” you smile

“I’ll cook” you smooth hair behind his ear as his eyes widen.

“Are you sure?” He asks warily.

“I tell you I’ve known you were my mate when I was human and you question me?” You laugh heartily.

“Now move it bat boy” you march off with a smirk.

He has no choice but to follow his heart.

And come up with an apology and thank you for Lucien.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Rafe takes flower nymph!readers virginity… in a flower bed.

Pjo x obx au masterlist

Ever since Rafe met you that one night while training, his visits became more and more frequent, you welcomed the man and watched his training each time, and he watched you grow your flowers.

He was much more kind than some of the other Ares campers. To you he was, at least. He didn’t know why, but he felt the need to be close to you, to be with you all the time. He felt the need to be gentle and slow with you, he didn’t want to go fast, as if you were a delicate little flower yourself.

So, he’s patient as he sits on the rock, while you talk about something while working on your latest addition to the garden.

“I like it over here, really, I do. But sometimes, I question if I’m missing stuff out there. In the real world. Outside of camp.” You rambled on while you watered the plants, your voice so quiet it was hard for Rafe to even hear. But he nodded along to each word anyways, your voice like a soothing lullaby to him.

“Yeah. I know what you mean.” He replied, his voice equally as quiet as to not interrupt you or the animals around you.

You look back at the man with a small smile, standing up, and wiping the dirt from your hands. You sat on the rock next to him, both of you staring at each other before his hand slowly snaked towards your thigh.

He looked at you for any reaction, any signs of hesitance. There wasn’t any. Your smile remains on your face, and you put your hand on top of his, before scooting closer, so that both of your guys legs and shoulders touched. His other hand went to your face, cupping it, he stared into your beautiful eyes.

“Can I… kiss you?” He asked you softly, your nod being all he needed to lean in and capture your lips in his, mouths moving together, his other hand went to your face as well, your hands were wrapped around his neck.

The kiss turned into more, you both found yourselves on the ground of one of your flower beds. You laying on the soft grass and pink flowers while he stared down at you.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asked you.

You nodded, hesitating before telling him. “I do. But, Rafe…”

“Yeah?”

“I- I’m a virgin.” You admitted quietly, casting your eyes downwards and trying to avoid his eyes, scared of what he might say.

He processed the words before a smile made its way onto his face. He was going to be your first.

“That’s okay.” He replied. “I’ll be gentle, promise.” He held his pinky out, you looked back at the man on top of you, and your smile was back on your face when you interlocked your pinky with his.

He leaned down again, giving you a quick kiss before he raked his eyes down your body. He grabbed the end of your dress, on his knees to pull it above your body slowly. He sighed heavily when the fabric was off, he truly did not know how he was gonna last when you were this perfect.

“Jesus.” He murmured out, you furrowing an eyebrow at his reaction, confused as to if he meant it in a good or bad way.

“You’re perfect.” He told you, looking back into your eyes, your cheeks heating up at his compliment. His hands went to the back of your bra, unclasping it with one hand, then looking down.

He took his shirt off, then his pants, until nothing was on his body. You still had your white panties- a little bow on the front that made him chuckle when he looked at them.

“I don’t know if-“ you suddenly spoke when you eyed his length, your mouth agape. “How am I supposed to…”

“I’ll be slow. Like a…” he looked around, seeing a little small snail nearby on one of the plants. “Snail. Like a snail. If you wanna stop-“

“I don’t!” You quickly interrupted, he chuckled at your eagerness. “Please… keep going.” You whispered the last part.

“Yes ma’am.” He said, pulling your panties to the side, lowly groaning at the sight. It took every ounce of strength in his body to not destroy you right now. But he was a gentleman… or something like that.

His fingers gathered your slick, you moaning at the new feeling, throwing your head back against the flowers. “H-holy…”

“We’re just gettin’ started, dove.” He told you, eyes looking up at you as he slid a finger into your warm walls, sucking him in like a vice.

“O-oh!” You cried out.

He groaned again. “Goddamn you’re gonna kill me one day.” He told you quietly, moving his finger in and out slowly.

After he made you cum and stretched you out with his fingers, he lined his cock up with your entrance, looking into your eyes as he slowly pushed in. Your hands were wrapped around him, your nails leaving crescent marks as you dug into the skin of his back.

You gasped, feeling full of him. It was like all your thoughts disappeared as he sunk into you, your mind consumed by the thought of him.

It was that night that Rafe knew he would never let go of you, he would hold on forever if he had to.

[sasahuaa]

Leona Kingscholar as an omega

Riddle - Azul - Kalim - Vil - Idia - Malleus

GN reader; sfw (kind of? subspace is not meant to be smutty but can be perceived as foreplay depending on the reader’s wants); word count: 2601; tw: inferiority complex, possessiveness

Sunset Savanna is a very inclusive and progressive land in terms of gender, women are held in high standard and the same is with omegas, it's considered normal to have kings that are alphas, betas or omegas. So Leona was always comfortable in his own skin, his nation never made him doubt himself in his second gender, and if he heard someone in NRC with conservative ideas about gender roles he would just scoff and roll his eyes.

Perhaps, in the middle of the night when his instincts are alert, his mind would conjure a memory of some nobody saying that alphas are born to be leaders. Maybe he was disqualified from birth, never meant to surpass Falena?

Still, he wouldn't entertain such nonsense, Sunset Savanna is what matters the most, and no omega is looked down there. So there's nothing wrong with him, it couldn't be! Right?

At least he hopes so, his signature spell already is dangerous, one that Leona avoids showing to others because of the fear it brings. He can't have anything more, anything that is an intrinsic part of himself, to be unfit.

Courting

Leona's first impression of you wasn't all that positive, to say that it was memorable would be pushing it. He really didn't pay attention (nor cared enough) to the entrance ceremony, honestly, the most exciting part was a fire cat causing terror to the other housewardens and newbies.

To him, your first encounter was in the botanical garden, an inconsiderate alpha stepping on him. Leona is still an omega that came from royalty, despite being lazy, he looks after his appearance, idiotic alpha, not only being a cause of a slight pain and annoyance, you also messed with the fur of his tail.

Leona may not be as prissy about his looks as Vil, but he is proud of image.

Like an annoying bug, this alpha was determined to destroy his plans for the upcoming spelldrive tournament. And they did, begrudgingly gaining his respect.

Spending time with you while Ramshackle dorm was being used as a collateral by Azul wasn't as bothersome as he expected. In the short time that you spent together he became fond of you, of your strength, wit and kindness. Leona enjoyed the conversations and playing with you, releasing a sounding purr with his words when he won against you or you did something that he approved of.

The lion beastman, above all, adored to lay on his bed and just observe you moving across his room, organizing his desk and cleaning, he admired your form from afar, averting his gaze just in time for you to not catch him, he enjoyed your form, Leona admitted to himself this, but he wasn't ready to let you in this secret of his. He hoped you liked his too.

Leona's room smelled of you both, the scents minging with each other in a delicious combination that almost made him crawl against his walls. He considered more than one time to just kick Grim out so the smoke smell of the little nuisance wouldn't sully it.

Weeks later, periods without your constant presence made him miss you more and more, and the scary realization that maybe what he feels for this diligent alpha wasn't just physical. He doesn't know what that means, he never fell in love before, and contact besides casual intimacy was unknown to him.

His experience comes from the occasional heat partners, usually beastmen that help him through his painful heats and he never talks with again later on, people he will never miss. He expected to be the same thing with you, ask for assistance and his weird obsession with you would disappear.

But had he ever felt this way before for any of his fleeting encounters? The emptiness when you are not with him, the clammy hands and fuzzy feelings when you are nearby, the need to claim and never let others touch you?

After the realization dawned on him, he avoided you for a few days. He is good at reading people, he is aware that you are the perfect mate for him. You never treated him as a second thought, held him in high regard, and dare he say, enjoyed his company as much as he is delighted by yours.

“You are compassionate and caring, Leona, did you know that?” your words did not leave his head during his isolation span. Leona never expected to meet someone that read through him, that could see right behind the thorns and thistles of his being, and reach a pure part of him that Leona didn't know existed.

You said you admired how he cared for his dorm, his dedication to guide pups like Jack and Epel and offer words of guidance or protection, in the guise that it was his duty as a housewarden. He was… happy that you saw him this way, the tenderness of such unfamiliar to him, but welcome.

With his mind made up, he ordered Ruggie to bring you to the botanical gardens, returning to his routine with you when you have free time to spend with him. Leona may be lazy, but he puts effort in the things he is passionate about, and he is very passionate about you.

You may not notice you are courting, he never brought it up, amused to the time you eventually will figure it out. He seeks time with you and sometimes follows you around the school when you are busy with your duties, he buys you food, brings you to his room (though most is with the excuse that you need to clean it for him) and slowly blinks in your direction, isn't that obvious enough?

Beastmen omegas are in control of the relationship, the alphas can’t do anything without their permission, so he orders you to give him time and affection, trapping your body beneath him for cuddles, and if you deny something to him? Be prepared to deal with a frustrated omega. He will relent if he asks something that is a boundary to you, not wanting you to be uncomfortable, he does respect you, after all, but if you are denying him to give attention to something else bothers him to no end.

Be it from him asking, or his dorm mates' admiration of him, some Savanaclaw student is always around you, to lend you protection or to report what you are doing to him. If they see someone bothering you, this is dealt with swiftly, if you want something, Leona makes sure to attend to your needs (within reason).

He would flaunt his neck and shoulders, turning his back towards you, feeling whole if you take this as an invitation to bury your face in his body. He hopes that you know what that means, you just accepted his courting, and he anticipates that his alpha will stay with him.

Growling

To hear Leona growling is not unusual, he is bothered easily and growls whenever someone gives him a task he doesn't want to complete or orders him around.

There was a time when he used to hold back his growls, when he still had hope of becoming king and for people to see that he was the better option. As a member of royalty, he knew how to play nice. but since the realization that for them he would always be second, he stopped holding back.

His homeland became suffocating since Cheka's birth, farthering him away from the throne even more. Attending NRC was his way of escaping his family, and despite him being less stressed than before, he can't say this place is perfect.

Towards you, he growls if you try to run from him, he asked for your time in the botanical garden and he expects for you to accept, and he will continue growling until he deems you gave him sufficient attention.

Leona releases guttural noises specially if he believes someone is stealing from him what is rightfully his. Despite being a prince, he doesn't have plentiful that he could call just his, he may be gifted in athletics, but Malleus is better, he is smart and has a sense of leadership, but his subjects would always choose Falena, material things can be owned by anyone with money, recognition is what really matters to him.

So Leona is ferocious if he finds another omega trying to seduce his alpha. But most of all, he expects you to reject them, to always choose him and reassure he is the only one on your mind.

Purring

Leona purrs loudly, though he is very private about them, only the people that have his favor are privy to this sound.

If he is feeling secure in your relationship, his purr hardly stops when you both are alone. His favorite times are when you are on his bed and he is laying on top of you, his vibrations traveling from his body to yours.

When he is playing chess, the match is exciting, forcing him to think deeply about his next moves. And if you don't know how to play chess, worry not, he will play with you until you learn it. His purrs are enough motivation for you to master chess.

Leona adores physical proximity, let him lay his head on your lap, his ears will twitch in invite, wanting your hands on his hair to caress his strands or to scratch behind his ears. Cup his face on your hands, he will smirk and rub his cheeks on your palms.

Look in his eyes while doing that, tell him you love him, his purrs will become louder than a machine.

Nesting

Leona's nest is not very organized, filled with expensive blankets and pillows, a soft mattress is the base. His nest contains color tones of brown, yellow and gray, most materials have the same texture and the pillows are large so he can hug them with his whole body.

He tucked his nest in a corner, he doesn't often use a privacy screen, but he does put it on when he is feeling vulnerable and in need to hide from the rest of the world.

Leona invites you to his nest very early in the courtship, he is sure that you are his future, so the wait isn't worth it when he could have his alpha in his safe space sooner, you would enter it in the future anyway.

The lion beastman makes you scent all his materials, since you did that, he spends even more time in his nest, especially when he is missing you. In the times he goes to Ramshackle he always comes back with an article of yours, and trades with another when your smell fades away, he is also careful when choosing his new piece, he couldn't let you without your essential items.

Sometimes, Leona would wait until your classes finished so he could whisk you away to his nest. If he is in the room with you, you don't need to ask for permission to enter it, but you do need permission to leave. Anytime you try to leave, to go to the bathroom or because you need to go home, he would bite behind your neck and pull you inside again.

“Oi, who gave you permission?” He would snarl with a low growl, his alpha must coax him gently, little persuasive words, being open to receive scenting and caresses to his neck and shoulders, all that combined and Leona might be convinced.

He just checked behind your neck before you were able to go, his bite apparent for everyone to see, it wasn't a mating mark yet, but for now, it was good enough for any of your other potential suitors to avoid approaching you.

Marking

You would be drenched in Leona's scent, the other students smell more of him on you than your own scent, to the point that some people think that the Savanaclaw housewarden is passing by even when you are alone.

Leona gets smug when he sees others averting their gazes from you, for everyone to perceive your place by his side.

Besides the omega scenting you to announce his claim, it's also for his comfort and reassurance. He is scared of you leaving him, of becoming a second choice for you too.

Smelling himself on you soothes his troubled mind, you are still by his side, you still haven't stirred away, he is still your beloved, his scent is proof of that. The scenting procedure is relaxing to him, to have you in his arms while he nuzzles your head, down to your neck and collarbones, reaching more parts of your body with his wrists’ glands. In moments like this he is assured of one fact, you are his.

Subspace

Although Leona isn't insecure about his second gender, it's a rare occurrence for him to enter subspace, compared to other omegas he has a more domineering personality, and he likes to have the upper hand with his alpha too. But he also likes to concede control from time to time.

Biting and licking his neck, shoulders and back are the way to bring him to cloud nine. Leona's body immediately relaxes and becomes pliant, his tail flicks up in a show of his excitement.

His purrs are unstoppable in this state, and quite lower compared to his usual tone. Any attempts to take your mouth away from him are met with a vicious hiss and nails digging on your back.

This is the only hard rule that he will impose in moments like this, don't leave. Otherwise, Leona would let you do anything when he is like this, his omega brain only demanding attention from his alpha, and he is pleased to provide.

☽ ☼ ☾

There's a gentle breeze in the air, but the ambient is too warm. It's weird, Leona is used to Savanaclaw's temperature, however, lately his instincts are haywire. Ever since he came to terms with his feelings for that alpha he has been feeling overwhelmed.

It's too hot, too suffocating. How long has passed since he started to avoid you? He is sure it's just a few days, and yet, his heart feels far too cold in displeasure. It was cozy when he was with you.

Leona wants to snarl at himself, he couldn't believe he is infatuated by someone. But it had to be you, you have been his only exception for many things, so he isn't surprised he caught feelings, even when he never thought he was capable of such pure tenderness.

He isn't elated, though. He knows you have a liking towards him, but is it romantic? Besides him, you spend time with many others, would you put him in second place too? He couldn't imagine you being so cruel, not after the many conversations you had, not after you saw good in him, even after you witnessed the worst in him.

If you did prioritize someone else…

Leona can't even fathom the thought, he could feel the flames of jealousy burning his stomach and his heart shrinking at the image of you holding a no face in your arms.

No, this can't happen, he refuses. The most shameful kind of loser is the type that doesn't even try. If he is doomed, if he is destined to never be the first choice, at least he will trail this path with dignity, he will go down at his own accord.

But Leona doesn't know if he could take another heartbreak, so please, choose him.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

A request for you!

Is just Remus helpin a newly werewolf infected reader learn how to deal with it (either back in school or as adults) and they have some heart eyes for each other (or are already together with some added anst that Remus feels responsible because she got targeted because of him or he infected her)

Go wild uwu

N/A This is perfection, kinda went the Angsty route, and by now, you know my pureblood obsession. This has become so much more then it originally planned to be LOL - Not proof read

Think like a Lupin

Iris The Goo Goo Dolls

Remus Lupin x Werewolf!Slytherin!Reader

Wc- 11536

Cw; Use of Y/N Sexual themes and actions, Cussing, themes of ptsd aligning with assault, arranged marriages, abusers doing abusing, continuity issues (mostly wolfbane during Remus's school years)

You always used to enjoy your walks. The one time you were allowed peace, away from your rancid family and their overbearing presence. 

They were always simple, slow, and just a lap around your parents' garden. The {L/N} manor was huge, and the property was far bigger. The trail, however, was just around the fountained hedges and back. It was the only path you were allowed to walk without a chaperone, so you relished in it.

It was just around the garden.

It was safe.

It should have been safe.

It was foggy, cold, your limbs buzzing numb and your lips chapped. Your father had just came back from his week-long ministry endeavor, working to ban those infected with Lycanthropy from the more popularized highlands. He had no shame in his views on them, and for the longest time, you believed them too..

You had a lot of regrets like that.

Your father was furious, his bill wasn't passed and he, as usual, had taken it out on your mother the second he entered the threshold of the place you called home. The verbal attack that started was horrendous and you wanted no part in it. So here you were, as far away from home as you could get. 

You wanted to walk for hours, but the trail was only about long enough to allow you to avoid your fathers fury, that was pushing it.

Once you were behind the hedges, and you knew no one was watching, you sat down. Looking up at the full moon you lifted your hand as if you could catch it. 

You didn't feel the eyes on you.

You don't hear the rustling on the outer line of the property. 

Maybe if you did, it would have been different. Maybe if you didn't go out alone, it would have been different. 

Maybe if you didn't go out alone, the imprint of Greyback’s jaws wouldn't be permanently etched into your skin.

~~~

Being a pureblood had never been necessarily difficult when you were younger. Occasionally you weren't allowed to play certain games or be around certain people, but it remained plausible. As you got older, specifically when you got to Hogwarts, you suddenly had weekly letters informing you of their expectations. It was crushing, from your parents expecting updates from the professors, to them giving you a letter with a list of all of the approved students your parents allowed you to associate with. Merlin forbid you make friends with muggleborns and halfbloods. Living with that for six full years was destroying you.

You preferred that, however, when you heard news that after your seventh year you were to be married off. Your parents didn't even permit you to know who it was.

Being left with your thoughts was favorable, knowing once the year was over, you were to be married off and a child wasn't an option, more of an obligation. The idea of bringing a child into a world so cruel, to face the same fates, with the possibility of your inflection? It was keeping you up, despite how you tried to keep the thoughts away.

You were laying in the cott, as Madam Pomfrey tried to quiz you on how all of this happened. She didn't say it, but she had this horrible feeling that it was a certain boy she knew, and the guilt he would feel if he heard of it would destroy him.

You didn't answer, just kept denying it. The scars along your face and chest throbbed, your very skull ached from your first ever transformation. Your parents had made you promise to keep it quiet, not wanting to disgrace their name and ruin your betrothal. No one was to know, especially staff, so you kept your mouth shut. Pomfrey tutted and shook her head before she stood. Giving a startled breath when the doors crashed open. 

Your eyes tightened in pain and you lifted your good hand over your eyes to try and drown out the raising sunlight. 

You groaned and looked up at the doorway. You saw four boys, boys you unfortunately knew very well. The Marauders. If it was to be anyone coming into the hospital wing with no explanation, at this ungodly time of the morning, it would be them. You didn't notice Madam Pomfrey’s familiar and routine movements as she left your side and hurried the boys into the cott next to yours.

You closed your eyes and let out a low sigh as you tried to ignore them. Luckily, the tallest one, Remus, seemed just as over it as you by the way his friends hushed around him.

“I'm fine, guys, you can head off, it will be breakfast soon.”

Remus’s voice sounded strained. Not that you paid particular attention to it before now, you could even hear a bit of crackle in the base of it, clearly over used. You slowly peaked one of your eyes open and spotted Remus’s form sprawled out on the bed just a yard or two away from you. You wondered if she did it on purpose. 

Now, your ideals didn't align with your parents, you had long since grown out of that phase. But that didn't mean you still didn't put up a front to anyone you weren't close to. The Marauders and you didn't really care to involve yourself with each other, the only one you knew vaguely was Sirius, but that was due to your relationship with Regulus. Both of them were dramatic shouts, but Regulus was at least charming about it. You couldn't say you knew Sirius well enough to know it.

Not that it mattered.

His name was nowhere on your parents list.

“Are you sure, moony? We can get you anything you need.” James fretted like the mother hen he was. You rolled your eyes and began to roll over, giving a low hiss of pain as the bandage that littered your skin rubbed against your raw flesh. 

It was then that the boys noticed you. Your back was now to them, and it seemed they took that as a sign to go. You heard the three shuffling away with low whispers of something you couldn't quite catch.

You tried to steady your breathing, as your ears narrowed in on Remus’s breath. Ever since that night, while you were still in denial, you noticed how your eyesight increased tenfold, your hearing was beyond sensitive, and Merlin your nose seemed to find new and powerful scents everywhere. Taking long deep breaths through your nose wasn't helping. 

That was, until you smelt something strong. It wasn't a smell you were able to place, but it was amazing. Calming and numbing, like you could fully unwind and let yourself take the backseat because something was here to protect you. Something was there to stand guard, you didn't have to anymore. You tried to hush this utterly annoying whining in your ears, telling you to go closer to the source, like there were claws wracking against your temple.

You curled up within yourself, holding your head, trying to block out every sound and smell, it was overwhelming. Your body ached, your head throbbed, your nose felt cold and raw with every breath. You wanted to forget tonight, figure out a glamour to cover up your damned scars, and go back to class. But that could all be done tomorrow. Now, you just wanted to sleep.

“Is it loud?” Remus called over to you in a low tone. Still, you flinched at the unwelcome and piercing intrusion it caused. Remus’s voice traveled down your spine and warmed your stomach. Whatever this was, you needed it to stop. You don't even notice the hesitance and slight pain in his voice. 

“What?” You whispered back with narrowed eyes. 

“The voice.” He challenged. Remus Lupin was smarter than most, not that it took too much thought to figure out what was happening. You looked a lot like him, when he was first nursed back to health by Pomfrey.

“I don't have a clue what you mean.” You snapped back before you carefully rolled over to look at him. You hid your wince and grimace perfectly, but you couldn't hold an angry expression with Remus. Especially when his eyes locked with yours. The voice got so much louder, demanding and begging she go to the boy infront of her. You did your best to ignore it, flinching hard, and covering your temple with a huff.

You don't get a chance to notice how Remus seemed to be going through the same. The second he walked through the door, your scent hit his nose and he knew. He knew what you were before he realized who you were. {Y/N} {L/N}. To him, the only thing notable about you outside of your pureblood bordering on royal status was the company you kept. 

You were one of the many who couldn't stand Severus, but you hung around Regulus Black, Evan Rosier, and even Barty Crouch Jr. you seemed to only be friendly with purebloods, but you never went out of your way to pick on anyone else. It was like you lived in your own little world, as far away from ‘tainted blood’ as possible. He only remembered you as the girl who hexed Avery for calling Lily a Mudblood, then receiving a howler from your parents about it the very next day. You avoided anyone who wasn't a pureblood since.

The only exchange he had ever had with you was when Barty had cornered a few first years in the hall, Gryffindors with a loud mouth, having called out Regulus for Slytherin cheating during the game. 

The marauders just so happened to be walking down the hall at the time, and before they could do anything about it, you walked in from the courtyard to the scene. It was almost scary, how you simply calling the boys names retracted them from whatever they planned to do. Well, Barty planned to do, Regulus held his usual look of indifference and likely didn't seem too interested in any outcome.

“Then, what are you in for?” Remus prodded with an amused look. You huffed as his voice became more soothing the more he spoke. You wanted to ignore him, you knew you should. That voice in your head did not like that idea, it seemed. Desperate for any bit of attention Remus would give you, and he seemed willing to hold a conversation. It latched onto that.

“I'm.. sick.” Okay, maybe you weren't a genius, but you certainly weren't that dumb. That damned voice speaking louder then any thought in your head. 

“You're .. sick?” He prodded with a smirk and you bit your cheek.

“Uh huh.” Might as well stick to it.

There was a long pause between you two, you eventually gave a low groan and he smiled. “Well, I usually wouldn't suggest this for just sick girls.” He started and you peaked one of your eyes to glance at him. He was sitting up, back propped up by pillows. The second your eyes met your lungs suddenly refused to work properly, and he seemed to stutter for a moment.

“What?” You whispered.

“Calming drought. And a few drops of deflating drought. I take it before I get,” He gestured to his bandages, much less then yours. “Sick too.”

Your eyes widened at his remark. Eyes trailing down his form a bit, not noticing how it made him squirm. Your jaw went slack for a moment before you corrected yourself. He was a werewolf too? Who else knew? They allowed him at school? Regretting your own stupid excuse now. But you listened to his every word intently. You bit your bottom lip and slowly sighed. “Ah. Well, a little over kill isn't it?”

“Is it?” He chuckled and gestured to your current state. “I also do something to relieve stress, you know, before I get sick.”

You quirked your eyebrow at him and hummed. “Relieve stress?”

“Mhm.. I can give some suggestions, I can help you too, if you need.”

“You forget yourself, Lupin.”

Remus seemed baffled by your response before his jaw went slack. “W-woah, not like that.” He laughed and you couldn't help but smile at it. The crinkle of his tanned skin in the corner of his eyes made your heart throb helplessly against your ribcage. What had gotten into you?

“That's a real shame.” You continued to tease and Remus seemed thrown for a loop, before he quickly caught himself.

“Sorry, princess, I usually like at least one date before I go to such extremes.”

“How very proper of you, I wouldn't of expected it, considering the company you keep.” You smirked and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“I could say the same to you.” He tried to joke, but that remark made you pucker your lips a bit.

“Not exactly my choice.” You mumbled and he slowly frowned. The wolf in him whining helplessly as he seemed to upset you. He used to have it under control, but it seemed the company of other werewolves was weakening his resolve and strengthening Moony’s.

A silence followed, but it wasn't uncomfortable. He actually hadn't felt more at peace in months. You either.

“Wolfsbane.” He remarked and you looked up at him. 

“What?” You whispered and he smiled at you. 

“Wolfsbane. It's a potion to help with our sickness.” He muttered and you clicked your tongue.

“Have you ever used it?”

“Can't afford it.” He remarked quickly and you took a breath in, sharp. Forgetting to be conscious of your privilege.

“Ah… what does it do?” You asked carefully, and the conversation continued like that.

Your conversation faded into nothing but familiarities after a while, from your shared sickness to random facts. Almost like you were old friends catching up with each other, you learned of his parents, his friends, his childhood. It was simple and you were practically strangers, but by the time you had dozed off it felt like you understood a bit more about who Remus Lupin was.

You didn't share much about yourself, you hoped it didn't show just how desperate you were for his voice. You didn't even have time to think of blood status, how your parents would react to you making a friend of a halfblood.

It felt like you had an ally, someone you could lean on. It helped that his presence alone seemed to sooth the manic thoughts in your head.

~~~

It had been days since your encounter with him. You couldn't seem to get that stupid boy out of your head. So what was a good distraction when you couldn't get your thoughts straight? Studying, of course. The only reason you found yourself ducking into the library was Barty wouldn't be caught dead studying, less people think his brains were more than just a Merlin given gift. You found yourself smiling slightly at his utter ridiculous reasonings. Regulus could keep him entertained while you were away, you were sure of it.

You had to be careful with the two, Evan was easy to fool, too focused on trying to be on par with Barty, or too focused on making a name for himself, but the others? You didn't want them to narrow down what was happening to you. You didn't exactly know how they would handle it. Regulus was still young enough his mothers words meant the world to him, and Barty and Evan had expressed interest in more extremes then just arrogance. You chose to ignore those thoughts, because you loved the boys, no matter how foolish they were. You didn't claim to be the bastion of temperance. You didn't have all the answers for them, you certainly didn't have enough experience or evidence to the contrary, you just knew you cared deeply for them, and abandoning them for ideals imposed upon them was never an option in your book. 

Walking into the library, the scent hit your nose like a ton of bricks. That familiar and soothing smell. It was intoxicating, having to catch yourself as your body moved closer without your consent. Your eyes locked with his almost instantly, as if he was looking for you too.

Remus Lupin was with his usual friends, though you noted Lily and Mary were with them as well. It wasn't anything big, as you knew Lily had started dating James Potter after years of embarrassing pining. Though, Mary was sitting awfully close to Remus. The voice in the back of your head did not like that. All of them took a full table for themselves, and as your body had started walking towards them, you suddenly realized you had stopped in the middle of the aisle staring at Remus. And he you.

It took an awkward cough from someone at the table and that seemed to break you and Remus’s staring contest. You looked over at where the noise came from and you saw Sirius Black, giving you the dirtiest look you had ever seen. You give a ‘hmph’ and look away from them, walking right past their table to one of the smaller ones near the window. 

You didn't notice how Remus’s eyes trailed after you, nor did you notice when Sirius gave him a look of confusion, looking for an explanation. Remus, however, simply looked down at his parchment and waved him off.

“What was that about?” Sirius hissed at Remus, that was hard to ignore.

“Nothing.” Remus muttered. Even though his voice was lower than Sirius’s, you heard it more clearly than anyone else’s in the room.

They continued to talk among themselves, and being just a few tables down it was hard to ignore. It was mostly about whatever they were reviewing, it seemed Sirius gave up on trying to pry out Remus’s explanation. Eventually, it went quiet. You gave a sigh of relief, body unwinding. The voice in your head seemed to quiet down a bit, being in close proximity of Remus calmed it down. 

This was a bad idea. 

You tried to focus on your work, you truly did, but writing a 12 inch on the migrating patterns of horned slugs was as boring as it sounded. Could you even call moving from one side of a city to another migration? Sounded like a bit too much credit. Not that you could think of that for too long, soon enough, Remus was invading your mind again. The voice was becoming less and less content with the distance between you two. You rubbed your face and sighed. You have been at this for twenty minutes and you already wanted to go back to your dorm and forget this ever happened.

There was shuffling behind you, and you prayed Remus and his friends were leaving. When you heard books hit the desk next to you, you knew Merlin had a sick sense of humor. 

You turned to look at whoever had the audacity to sit next to you, and your eyes locked with Remus’s. 

“Hey.” He whispered to you and that voice shot down your spine like a bolt of lightning. You turned to look at his friends and saw that all of them seemed to be staring at you two, baffled. You quickly looked away, body stiff as you looked right back down at your parchment. You ignored him for a few moments, before you finally spoke up. 

“Why are you here, Lupin?” You muttered, glancing over at him and noticing with a start that he had been staring at you already. 

“To calm the voice.” He whispered, maintaining a stern and serious eye contact that almost strangled you. When did Remus Lupin get so confident?

You hadn't even noticed how the voice in the back of your head stopped, until it began to send pleasant rumbles threw your entire chest, like a purring cat. Oh, you were done for.

“Y-you forget yourself.” You whispered out in a stammer and he smiled bright at you, denting his cheek with his tongue. “You have that effect on me.”

You scoffed and looked away, covering your cheeks with your wrist and tried to pretend his words didn't rattle you. Cocky little- 

“You can call me Remus.” He whispered to you and you closed your eyes and began to steady your breath. 

“I will do no such thing.”

“Why not?”

“Have you forgotten who you're speaking to, halfblood?” You snapped back at him, turning to face him once more and you flinched at the surprised look on his face. The voice gave you a sharp bout of pain down your neck as if to punish you for hurting him. 

There was a moment of quiet, before he turned to face you fully, both of you having forgotten your audience. He hung his arm around the back of your chair and that did nothing to calm your battering ram heart, as if it was trying to tear away from your chest to Remus. “You know.” He whispered, leaning closer as if he was telling you a secret.

You could have fainted right then and there.

“I don't think you really believe that, do you?” He whispered and you snapped you out of your thoughts. His smell. Please please please, whatever cruel gods were watching stop this torture already. “If you did, you wouldn't have hexed Avery. You wouldn't have talked to me in the hospital wing. And you would have long since hexed me for coming to you.”

“I'm still debating that, Lupin.”

“Remus.”

“Lupin.”

“Moony?” He offered and you looked over at him in utter stupefaction. You narrowed your eyes before one eyebrow arched in questioning.

“Moony?” You muttered, not noticing the shiver that went down his spine at that. “Moony.” He confirmed.

“Sounds ridiculous.” You huffed and he gave a brighter smile this time.

“Sounds amazing when you say it.” He whispered and before you could shoot something back, a voice called out behind you.

“Yo, {Y/N}! The bloody hell have you been!?” 

You didn't know if that voice was a gift or an additional plague from the gods above. You pressed your thumb to your cheek and sighed. Preparing yourself for another shiver of discontent from your wolf, you leaned your head back to glance at Barty, and he was smiling, not for long, when he noticed Lupin with his arm practically around you, leaning into your space. His expression hardened.

“You! Get your damn hands off her!” He shouted to the entire library. You groaned and quickly stood up, Remus’s eyes still on you, as if he could care less about the scene to come. Barty was quick to make his way across the room and began to, and rather forcibly might you add, pack up your things for you. 

“Is he bothering you?” He pried and inserted himself between you two, the growl from Remus was almost missed. You quickly shook your head as he put your book bag over your shoulder. 

Barty huffed at your answer and put his hand around your lower back. “Bold halfblood.” He spat at him and began to escort you out of the library. You quickly paused, looking back at Remus as a realization hit you.

“Lupin.” You called over to him, and your breath got caught up for a moment, noticing he was watching you without ever moving from his seat. 

“Remus.” He whispered back to you and it felt like he whispered that right against your earlobe. You took a sharp breath. 

“Remus.” You whispered back and he sat up straighter. “I-I took your advice.” You whispered out, your hands gripping your book bag harder. You didn't think about why you said that. Maybe you were looking for praise? Merlin, what was wrong with you?

He just smiled at you and toyed with his lip, wetting them. “Good.” He nodded and you took a deep breath, about to say something further before Barty quickly hooked his arm more forcibly around your waist and pulled you away from the library. This would be a long year.

~~~

Weeks later, you were laying down on your bed and rubbing your temple. The green sheets that enveloped you were hardly soothing to your throbbing head. The voice, who you learned from Remus was indeed as you suspected, the wolf, had been furious with you. Between tests and studying, and not to mention Barty’s new found protectiveness over you, you weren't able to see Remus, outside of the stolen glances in the halls.

Barty refused to let you anywhere near the Gryffindor quartet, having told Regulus and Evan's that very night when he walked you all the way back to the Slytherin common rooms. Evan's was appalled, but Regulus seemed more disgusted then anything else.

It was like they formed a schedule to keep you away from any undesirables, every day, from potions to history of magic, they escorted you from class to class, and the voice was growing very impatient with their insistence. Even Regulus involved himself with the two’s foolish plans. 

You loved the boys, but you didn't know how to explain that it physically pained you to be away from him. It was bizarre, you hardly even spared him a glance through the entire school year, he was just James Potter’s friend, someone to avoid. Just another person who didn't match your parents standards and thus, you needed nothing from. Now, it was like the very idea of going back to that was blasphemous. The wolf in the back of your mind howled out in displeasure at your own thoughts. What you would give for everything to be quiet.

As if to mock you, there was a firm knock on your door. You huffed and sat up, only for the door to be thrown open and Barty to let himself in. “Got something for ya! Looks like it's from your parents.” He announced as he plopped the package down, your bed dipped under its weight, and  the sound of glass clinking filling the room. You huffed and stood up, arms crossing as you glared at him. 

“Has waiting for me to open the door ever once crossed your mind?”

“It did, once, it scared me.” 

You scoffed and tried to hide your smile. “I could of been changing!”

“Nothing I wouldn't like to see, dear.” He purred with a wink. You reached back and grabbed a pillow, pelting it at his face and he laughed, throwing his head back. 

“Out! Out of my room!” You shouted, unable to help the giggles that left your lips. Despite the joy, you felt this familiar dread fill your chest. Your voice agreed with it, you didn't want to be alone with anyone. Not right now.

“And if I don't?” He smirked and held the pillow still. You bit your cheek, another horrible attempt to hide your laughter. Trying your best to ignore how a toad made its home in the back of your throat. You felt like you could cry, you didn't know why, Barty had never once made you feel unsafe, and despite his jokes, he respected you more then you figured to be normal considering how purebloods usually were. He was definitely your favorite RavenClaw.

“I'm calling your boyfriend.” You teased and he gave a dramatic gasp, his smile twitching a bit as he noticed your eyes growing glossy.

“Oh no, whatever will I do? It's not like he agrees with me or anything.” He attempted to continue the joke, but when tears actually began to shed, he stopped fighting, letting you shove him to the door. That comment alone seemed to effect you more then you let on. He paused, about to ask you something, before you groaned, managing to get him out the door. 

“Begone!” You shouted and slammed the door in front of his face.

“Hey- Wait-” He called from the other side of the closed door, you could just barely make out Regulus call for Barty to leave you be from the common room.

You pressed your back to the door and tried to calm your breathing. Closing your eyes tight to dispel your tears and gather yourself. Breathing becoming heavier, and slowly sinking against the floor. What was happening? Why were you so panicked? Your wolf paced in the back of your mind, making your breathing harder to steady. You gave a gasp and curled up tighter. Your hands were shaking, your throat was scratchy, and you were sure you would pass out if your hiccups paired with the heavy gasps had anything to say about it.

You wanted to sleep, you wanted it to stop, but you had a feeling you knew exactly how to calm yourself.  

~~~ Remus’s POV ~~~

It was like they were brandishing you like a trophy of some kind. He didn't want to think about it like that, like you were just some prize to be won, but it was getting harder. The looks Barty and Evan would shoot him in the halls while keeping you as far away from him as possible. 

He was dying here, Moony wouldn't just shut up about you, and the boys kept harassing him about you too. Still not over the interaction he had in the library. It got worse when he admitted you were the one who laid next to him in the hospital wing.

“I mean, she's a pureblood, she acts like everyone else doesn't exist, you think she'd give Remus the time of day?” Sirius spoke up, ever the skeptic. He was laying on his back on the floor of the common room, tossing a pair of folded socks above his head. “{L/N}s would eat our poor moony alive.” Sirius smirked and tossed the sock pair at Remus who lifted his hand sharply and caught it without looking.

The taller boy was laying on the couch, sprawled out to try and ease the tension in every limb of his.

Sirius let out a low, impressed whistle. They had also found his new wound up Moony’s reflexes fascinating. Sirius especially.

“Have you seen the way they look at eachother? Like star crossed lovers.” James sighed fondly from where he sat in front of the loveseat, head resting in Lilys lap as she braided bits of his hair. Lily gave a fond eye roll, looking over to Remus. 

“Starcross what now? Honestly, Remus, if you're shagging her you can just say that.” Sirius snickered but quickly his chuckle was caught in his throat when Remus sent him a deadly glare.

Sirius bit his cheek and slowly smirked. Interesting.

“He really does seem fond of her. Infatuation, maybe?” She teased and Remus groaned. “I am right here.” He grumbled and glared over, Lily giggled.

She was the only one he told about what had been happening, so she was surely just taunting him. He rolled his jaw and opened his mouth to speak before there was a soft knock on the portrait. The fat lady’s voice soon came, gasping and scolding whoever was trying to get in. 

“Woah, after curfew?” James muttered, looking to Lily. “As heads, we should probably do some scolding, hm?” He prodded and Lily gave a dramatic hum of thought, pressing her finger to her cheek. “Hmmm…” 

She glanced up at Remus and saw how his body stiffened and he sat up a bit. He was staring at the door like a patient and loyal dog. Her eyebrows raised in amusement before she shook her head. 

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p.’ “We're off.” She cheeked and James gave a chuckle and leaned his head back against her plush thighs with a content hum.

“Sounds good.”

There was another, much less confident knock.

No one moved, Peter looked around the group from his homework before he groaned as all the eyes landed on him, safe for Remus. He stood up and walked over to it. He was gone for a few moments, before he walked back with an amused look, Remus was already getting up.

“Remus your…” Peter trailed off as he watched the taller boy quickly walk past him and out of view of his friends. Lily smirked and James tilted his head curiously at her.

“Remus is getting callers, soon enough, we'll have to set up a dowry.” She hummed in a serious tone, Sirius throwing his hands up. 

“What? I always have callers! What's my dowry?”

“We have three chocolate frogs for whoever will settle down with you.” James remarked and Lily gave a startled laugh, covering her smile as James looked up at her like she was the one to gift him sight.

Sirius pouted.

~~~

You knocked, just once more. You didn't know why you expected them to be up, but the wolf in the back of your head was calming slowly, you had a feeling you knew why. When the door opened, the warm air seemed to pour from the common room, the very air wrapped around you in so much comfort. The smell came with it, and you could have fainted with how loud the voice became. Your hands found purchase on your skirt when you made eye contact with Peter Pettigrew. You both stared at each other bewildered. Right. It wasn't just Remus here. 

Awkwardly, you cleared your throat and lifted the small paper bag in your hand, “I uhm,” You cleared your throat again. “Remus. Something for Remus.”

Peter slowly smirked before he nodded and hurried back into the room. You looked away and began debating with yourself. If you ran back to the dungeons, would he catch you before you got there? Your hands were still unsteady but your breath was finally growing even. What were you even planning? Give him the Wolfsbane and beg him to stay with you a little longer? Because him standing near you was calming? Merlin you should've thought this through. You sounded insane.

Your head snapped up when you heard the portrait open again. You locked eyes with Remus, both a bit too stunned to know what to say. You opened your mouth a few times and began to grow frustrated with yourself as you continued to try, and no sound left. You took an even breath and Remus gave you a small breathtaking smile. This bastard.

“A-actually, this was a mistake, I'll-” Your words were cut short when Remus reached out and grabbed your arm to keep you in place. His hand was much larger than you expected. You turned back to look at him and when your eyes met, your breath was once again snatched from your chest. You let out a whine that was so audible it was humiliating. “R-Remus…” You whispered out his name and that seemed to really ignite something in him.

He tugged softly at your arm to gesture you in. You toyed with your bottom lip before you obeyed him and followed. He lead you into the common room, and you met his friends look of utter bewilderment, and they matched your expression.

Remus ignored them, leading you right up the stairs to his dorm. You heard a wolf whistle from Sirius before the door closed behind you. 

Everything else happened so quickly, but so carefully. He backed you into the door and you stammered out his name. You couldn't think clearly, with how intense your wolf was becoming. Like it was whimpering in excitement. You huffed as Remus gave you a look that sent danger signed flaring in every part of your body but your mind. 

Your left brain was utterly useless around him, you decided.

He caged you in, and leaned his nose against your neck and took in a deep breath, savoring the smell of your shampoo and body wash. He seemed just as dazed as you did. You pressed your legs together, hard, and you squinted at the light above you, allowing him to take you in.

After what felt like hours, he pulled away. You felt so cold, you resisted the urge to pull him back. He leaned down over you, face just a few inches from yours. 

His eyes glanced down at the paper bag in your hand and your mouth dried. “Got something, Princess?”

You closed your eyes tight and lifted the bag. He looked between you and it, not that you noticed. “For you.”

“For me?” He asked in a soft teasing voice. Taking it from your palm and opening the bag. His breath caught in his throat and he snatched it out, holding the blue grey sludge like potion in his hand. “Is.. is this?”

“I-I listened. Like I said, and my parents sent me far more then I would ever use in a school year so.. so I figured it would be a waste.” Your voice grew lower as he gave you a look you couldn't describe. Would you be honest? That you lied to your parents to request double knowing they wouldn't question it? To offer Remus just a bit of relief? Even if it wasn't much? You doubted it. But the way he was looking at you now, it felt like he knew. He set the bag down and stepped closer to you. 

You reached for the door knob but he beat you to it. Leaning down as his lips hovered over yours, you held your breath, your fingers trembling. Slowly, moving to rest on his chest. He smiled, it was so small, so soft. You took a shaky breath and slid your hands from his chest to his shoulders. “Can I?” He whispered and you let out another ungodly sound.

“Yes.” 

When his lips landed on yours, everything else went blank. You reached around him and gripped at the back of his uniform with desperate clawing motions. It was flashes filling your head. Flashes of Remus against your neck, then you on his bed. 

You had no clue what was happening you just knew you'd didn't want it to stop. Ever. When he shifted on top of you, however, you noticed his hesitance.

You were both red, deep with rushing blood. His hands that were once around your waist were now to your wrists. He straddled your hips, but he didn't move beyond that. When did he take his shirt off? When did yours go?

It seemed to hit Remus, how foggy you truly were. He slowed down and let go of you. Carefully,he crawled off and sat down in front of you with a low groan. You slowly and carefully sat up. It was hard, with how little your core seemed to obey you. “R-Remus?” You muttered and he covered his face with his hands.

“This is a bad idea.” He mumbled and you pouted a bit.

“What?”

“You can't think straight. Neither can I.” He whispered. “I won't regret this. But I know you will.” 

You paused for a moment and considered what he said. He was right. If he had continued, you surely would have gone far further then you were willing. You didn't know how many people would of been able to make that call.

You fall on your side on his bed and groaned. It smelt so much like him. Your eyes closed and you buried your face in the pillow. He slowly smirked.

Climbing up onto the bed and wrapping his arm around your middle. You leaned your body fully against his and he sighed. “Is this okay?” He whispered, nose to your neck and voice desperate. You nodded, rolling over to hide your face in his chest. Everything was calm again, for both of you. No voices. No howling or clawing, no thoughts of anyone but who was in front of you. He waved his wand and closed the canopy drapes for privacy. 

You knew you'd feel safe with him.

~~~

You woke up feeling amazing. Too bad the other three were there to greet you two with teasing and vile innuendos you had never heard before. And you were friends with Barty Crouch. You couldn't deny how funny it was, so when Remus apologized you could only laugh.

You and Remus made a habit of it, meeting up together and finding comfort in the calm you brought each other. Only on weekends, as you weren't allowed to go to Hogsmeade on most occasions, so the boys didn't question you when you said you would be keeping yourself busy.

Busy you definitely kept, when they left in the mornings, you made your way to the empty Gryffindor common room, straight to Remus’s room. Thats were you were now. Laying in his bed and fiddling with his hair. He was laying between your bent knees and nuzzling his head into your stomach. You flinched a bit as he rubbed against the mostly healed bite mark. He lifted his head and gave you a concerned look. You bit your cheek and slowly lifted your shirt, showing off the large bit of mangled skin to him again. He had seen it before, several times by now. Usually due to him throwing a shirt of his at you the second you walked threw the door. It was kind of adorable. 

His eyes fully took it in, running his thumb against your jagged and twisted skin, clearly confused. His wound healed when he was young, yours seemed to be getting worse. “My mother healed it the best she could.” You whispered and his face twisted in confusion, eyes meeting yours. You bit your cheek.

“My parents didn't want anyone to know so.. that meant no St Mongos.” You whispered and he seemed surprised, like a deer in headlights. You gave a reassuring smile.

“It's alright, pretty boy.” You cooed and ran your fingers threw his hair and tugged softly at the roots. He gave a low sigh and closed his eyes. 

“There are rules for that, to keep the doctors quiet, you know.” He whispered and you slowly nodded, biting your bottom lip. He peaked one of his eyes open and tugged your lip from between your teeth. “I know.. my parents are pretty paranoid.” You mumbled.

He nodded and slowly got up to his knees, running his free hand along the scar, rolling you over onto your stomach, you obeyed easily. He leaned down and kissed the bottom half of the scar, making you smile into the pillow you were hugging. “Do you…” His voice trailed off and you hid a bit into your pillow. He frowned and crawled up further to kiss the back of your neck. As if to tell you he was there. You were safe. No one would hurt you while he was here. 

“... My father was at the ministry. He uhm..” You felt pathetic, like what happened was something you deserved. You one agreed with your father, so what did that make you? You were just as bad as his mindless arrogance. 

“He was voting on the bill, and donated a hefty share to get.. people like us banned from the highlands.” You whispered and you felt as his lips stilled against your lower neck. Before the kiss slowly deepened, almost bruising. “I-I guess there were people there that didn't like that. Fenrir Greyback followed my dad back home and- I guess it just so happened to be a full moon-” 

Your words were getting caught in your throat. Suddenly it felt like you were being strangled. You quickly sat up and he moved off of you quickly. You turned to face him and gave him a sigh of relief. “S-sorry I- I couldn't see you, I just-”

“Shhh..” Remus tried to calm you. Leaning forward and rubbing your back carefully as he offers you his hand. You grabbed it and used it to yank him against you. You missed the security of being under him. He pressed his nose to your shoulder and you sniffled slightly. 

That night was the closest you felt to Remus. It was a shock to learn his father also earned Greyback’s wrath, in much the same way. 

You didn't want to leave the dorms that night, so, for the second time, you found yourself tangled up with Remus in a much more affectionate way, less intimate and more careful. That's not to say that his lazy open mouthed kisses against your skin were anything but love. And his deep thumb prints against your abdomen where he focused the frustration from your slow and careful kisses were anything but lust. 

You both agreed not to label what you had. It was clear that most of what it was came from the shared experiences, the shared inflection, and of course, the terribly desperate wolves that would rather kill you both then be without the other. 

It was getting harder, however. As the months went on, how you both would focus on each other after every full moon, how being tangled with each other was more gratifying than any prank Remus could ever pull, leaving his boys behind most nights, how you both couldn't seem to get enough of each other.

When Remus became a prefect, your meetings went from every weekend to every other night. You were falling for eachother, hard. You were sure you wouldn't recover from this, but instead of breaking your heart early, you simply caved to his every desire. Every question, every look, every touch was reciprocated. In turn, he caved to his obsession. Letting you consume what little sanity he had left. 

Your friends noticed the change, the marks on your nape and throat, the bruised lips, the skipping breakfast and even dinner at times. 

His friends noticed it too, Sirius seemed all for the idea of 'tainting a pureblood’ and James seemed happy Remus seemed to be love struck. He had spent all of his years at Hogwarts refusing love, but it seemed he fell into this one so fully and so helplessly, he had forgotten who you were.

You did too.

When summer finally came. It was like they were strangers again. You didn't even spare him a glance. Remus was desperate, it was like he was going mad without you. He knew you had called it off. He knew why you did too. He felt cheated, the one time he lets himself fall so fully and she belongs to someone else. You two had talked, you told him the last thing you needed was your parents finding out about you two. That after the last night, there was no ‘us,’ that you two never happened.

Remus was devastated, but kept it to himself. He knew by the look in your eyes that this wasn't the outcome you had hoped for. You both got too distracted with each other, with the fantasy of it all. You two never labeled what you had, so there was nothing to fight for. He wondered if you did that on purpose. 

The next day after your conversation was the last night you snuck off to his dorm. It was mostly you watching him pack, the way his mother had taught him. He was telling you stories of his mother, how strong and resilient she was. How she taught him even the most mundane tasks were best done slowly. He said it in a tone that made you wonder, what exactly he could mean. 

When he was finally done he crawled into bed with you. Once again, you fell asleep in eachothers arms. It was peaceful and content. It brought a smile to your face, trying to ignore the biting pain of knowing this was the last you'd have of Remus Lupin. A strange lecture and a night together.

He had changed so much of who you were, he had taught you so much more than you would've ever known alone. You were grateful life gave you him, even if it was just for a moment.

The morning would come too soon.

~~~

You loaded your things on the train, with no true attachments to anyone you were allowed to see, it was easy to just leave. 

That's what you told yourself, anyway. When you sat down, next to Barty and across from Regulus, you fiddled with your book instead of reading it. Tears gathered in your eyes as Evan and Barty continued to debate who you had been seeing the past few months. 

Regulus seemed not to be entertaining the conversation, focusing more on you as you sniffled. Quickly, you dismissed yourself to the bathroom. Leaving the compartment and ignoring their calls to you. Hurrying past students you didn't know with their varying looks of confusion and concern. You didn't even have time to think before your arm was grabbed. 

Looking back and up you saw Remus. He was guiding you to a storage closet, you both said nothing. 

He pulled you in and closed the door, and you came undone in his arms. You had kept strong about the separation, but it was tearing you apart inside. Remus had taught you to tame the voice in your head, so you knew now your reckless emotions were your own. You clung to him and sobbed, he held you close and you heard his own sniffles into your shoulder. 

You were there for a while, eventually, he used his thumbs to dry your eyes, you looked at him and saw such terrifying love in his eyes. You bit your cheek and shook your head. It wasn't just love. It was desperation. Like he was begging you for an answer you surely couldn't give. You pulled away and his head hung down in defeat. You stared at him. Say it. You thought. Say it and I'm yours, Remus.

You both sat in silence for another minute or two before you sighed. Turning to open the door, still no words passed between you both. 

As you walked out, your head down, you were greeted with a pair of polished black shoes. Your eyes slowly trailed up to meet the eyes of a shocked Regulus Black. His jaw tensed when he saw who was behind you. You hadn't known he followed you. Fuck.

“Regulus, it's-”

“Blood traitor.” He spat the vile insult and you felt like he slapped you. Your breath hitched and you reached forward towards him. He was young, he didn't understand. You knew the only experience he had with this was his cousin and brother both of whom, he confided in you, he felt abandoned him. You didn't know how to explain what had happened. You didn't know what to tell him. You don't know what to say. Your entire body was lit up like a live wire, and Remus spoke in a low tone.

“What was that?” He prickled and you quickly shushed him. Remus seemed startled but didn't say anything. Scoffing as Regulus marched off with another much lower repetition of the insult. You sighed and covered your eyes, feeling even more miserable now. 

Remus reached out to you, wanting to comfort you again. Anything to keep you close to him. “I knew this was a bad idea.” You gave a heart broken whisper and Remus froze up, staring at you with wide eyes. 

He didn't say a word as he walked to your side, moving some of your hair to behind your ear. Muttering a soft goodbye, one he figured would be his last, before he turned and walked away. Back to his compartment. He didn't want to cause any more damage.

You made it back to your compartment, Barty and Evan greeted you with concern and you waved it off. Your eyes on Regulus who was glaring at you. Luckily, the boys were distracted with their hundredth conversation of the night.

You turned to look down at your book once more. It was one Remus had given you, just to borrow, you wondered if he thought it would be an excuse. To see eachother again.

~~~

A week of being home, you were finally slipping back into routine. The first thing you knew you wanted to do was return Remus’s book. Once you did, he had lettered you back almost immediately. You knew you shouldn't, but it was hard when every part of your heart ached just to read his words. You exchanged letters with him several times over the week. With nothing else to do but write and wait for your betrothal announcement, there were days when three letters between you two simply wasn't enough. 

Eventually, over the weekend, you convinced your mother to allow you to go to Hogsmeade. One hour of freedom to finally explore before your marriage, to your surprise, she agreed. You had finally gained ownership over your own vault so she allowed you to roam as long as you returned within the hour.

You did not go to Hogsmeade. You met with Remus, outside the Potters. You knew it was risky, there was a war brooding and you shouldn't be caught dead entertaining him, but you were weak. You would always be weak to him. It was just an hour, the worst mistake you had ever made. It just reinforced what you already knew. You and Remus were dangerous together. You found yourself not caring about who may have been watching. It was just a conversation and a few stray touches, but it ruined you.

Once you made it home, you watched the house elves scatter around, avoiding you. Your parents had sent you up to your room the moment you walked through the doors. They were in the living room with the Blacks, specifically Walburga and Orion. 

You hadn't seen your father so furious before. Once you heard the door open, you watched through your window as the two devilish figures apparated away. You turned to your door as it slammed open. You straightened your back and avoided his eyes. “Father-”

“ ‘In the safety of our nights, I reveled in your presence. Knowing another werewolf was near brought a comforting embrace. And in your exquisite beauty, I found my heart forever captivated. You are captivating.’ “ He announced to the room and your blood ran cold. Your eyes snapped over to the drawer of your desk and realized it was open. Remus’s letters.

You looked to him and saw your mother avoiding your gaze, holding the small stack of parchment and your heart sunk to the floor. 

“Father-”

“Where were you?” He demanded and you took a sharp startled breath.

“Hogsmeade, I asked mother-” 

Before you could finish, he snapped his fingers and the parchment in his hand was lit ablaze. Ashes gathered at his feet and you couldn't help but let out a yelp. Covering your mouth and clenching your chest, watching as the last of Remus was burned in front of you. 

“ ‘Each moment apart feels more arduous than I ever imagined. Could there be a chance, however slight, for our paths to intertwine once more?’ “ Your father spat Remus’s words back to your face and you flinched. “Where were you?” He demanded again.

“I-I went to the Potters. I went to the Potters to meet with Remus Lupin.” You sobbed out and your father gave a condescending laugh.

“You've involved yourself in filth. Do you understand that?!” He snapped at you, snatching the letters from your mother with so much force some of them flew around the room. “You have been a plight on this family since you were born! I should have sooner raised a son! I was this close to being rid of you, now the Blacks won't even take you for their disgrace of a fallen heir!” 

You closed your eyes tight, bowing your head as your mother spoke up. “Where did we go wrong? You were such an obedient girl when you were younger! You used to be such a good girl, {Y/N}.”

“Don't lie to her! I will fix this. I will fix this problem. You want to entangle yourself with filth? I'll show you filth!” Your father boomed. With a wave of his hands every letter ignited. Shriveling them up to nothing but black spots on the carpet. You slowly fell to the floor and hugged yourself. Sobbing out in desperation, you wanted to go back. You wanted everything to stop throbbing and the pain to go away.

You wanted Remus.

~~~ Remus POV ~~~

Two months. Two months and none of his desperate letters got any reply. He wasn't ready for that hour to be his last goodbye. He wasn't ready to be without you yet. He wasn't ready to lose you. 

He thought if he kept pushing it, kept going past the boundaries you set for yourself, you would eventually say you wanted him too. You wanted to be his and he wanted to be yours. Why was that so hard? 

He spent those months moping around in his room. Bless Sirius’s soul for all he put up with. Remus would only get up to write, Sirius had to force the rest out of him. The black haired boy finally managed to drag Remus into the shower, then into the living room. Forcing him to spend time with them. 

“There is a war waging! Stop worrying about that girl and drink for tonight at least.” Sirius shoved a wine glass in his hand and laughed as Remus curled up his nose in disgust. Lily walked over and pulled Remus over to the table, ready to play one of the many random muggle games she brought. Remus felt like he was going through the motions for the most part. Just doing as he was told.

There was a tap on the window, Remus ignored it. Long since learning his lesson about getting his hopes up. He focused on the cards in front of them as Lily dealt them. She had a sneaky hand, notorious for slipping them in her sleeve. His thoughts were only interrupted as Sirius muttered his name. Low and cautious.

He looked behind him and stared at Sirius who was holding up a parchment of paper, he recognized it instantly. {L/N}’s. It wasn't any normal letter. It was more of a card. “What is it?” Remus whispered, dread filling him. He knew what it was. He already knew what it was, but there was this small bit of hope that he was wrong.

Sirius looked to James who was reading it over his shoulder with a grimace. “Uh… are you sure you wanna know?” James asked cautiously, and Sirius winced. 

Eventually Remus stood up and snatched the paper from them. His eyes widened and his heart stopped, slowly muttering the words to himself before Lily cautiously stood up. “What is it?”

“I don't think-” James began, and Sirius watched as Remus read it out, interrupting James.

“We, the noble and long standing house of {L/N} cordially invite you to the engagement party of..” Remus felt his words stop in his throat and Lily looked to James for an answer, he began to stutter out and over himself, before Sirius spoke up this time. 

“{Y/N} {L/N} and Fenrir Greyback.” Sirius whispered and Remus crumbled the letter in his hand. No. This wasn't happening. Remus threw the invitation away and began to pace the living room, hands tangling in his hair as he clung to what little sanity he had left. 

“Okay, well, let's figure this out.” James declared and Remus stopped his pacing and looked over at James with bewildered eyes.

“What?”

“Let's go crash a wedding. Well, a wedding party.” James mused and gestured to the four of them. “When is it?”

“It's tonight. Must of sent the invitation to me as a fuck you.” Remus muttered before he looked across his friends faces, slowly smiling. “You'll do this for me?” He asked softly and Sirius walked up to him, patting his shoulder. “Remus, I'll do anything to stop doing the dishes again.”

Remus gave him a glare as Sirius smiled cheekily up at him, before he turned to James who shrugged. “She makes you happy, man.” He offered before Lily leaned forward with a chime. “And no one deserves to marry Greyback.”

Remus slowly nodded and felt a rush of adrenaline. “Yeah. Yeah, let's do it.” He turned to the three, “What's the plan?”

~~~

“So let me get this straight.” Lily mused as she looked into the passenger hanging mirror, as they drove down the street like muggles. “Greyback turned this girl into a werewolf? And her parents are just going to.. marry her to him?” She scoffed and Remus nodded, clenching his jaw as he slipped his wand in his waistband. 

“That's foul.” Sirius hissed with his head half out the window, smoking a cigarette. Remus once again muttered something in the affirmative. 

James glanced back at Remus from where he was driving. “Okay Moony, you sure this will work? Just going to walk out with her?”

“If she'll have me.” Remus muttered and leaned back fully with a sigh. “Thanks for coming.” He mumbled. 

Sirius nudged him and Remus looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Anything to ruin another pureblood legacy.” 

“I'm starting to think this is more about that than helping me, Sirius.” 

“Can't it be both?”

“Certainly not.”

“I'm sure it can.” Lily mused from the front seat.

“Certainly can.” James remarked and Remus groaned, followed by a fit of giggles.

“I can't believe she likes you guys.” Remus mumbled and Lily gave a startled gasp. “What? Awe, she likes us!?” 

“Oh look, we’re here.” Remus interrupted her and she gasped. “Remus Lupin!” 

“See ya.” He chuckled and climbed out.

The celebration was at the {L/N} manor. As Remus walked up, he was ushered in past the people getting their names checked. Not at all jarring, might you add. 

His coat was taken by a house elf and another handed him a drink. He gave a small thank you and then winced when one looked at him with surprise and the other like he was dirt. His eyes scanned the full room, and they landed on the man of the hour.

He looked as slimy as he remembered. Like a sore thumb in a place like this, it just seemed to push how much of a punishment this must of been. He looked around the manor and noticed you were nowhere to be found. He remembered from your letters, your room was on the first floor. Well, time to go hunting.

~~~

You were in your room, sitting by your vanity and trying to push back the time as much as you could. Your debut was happening in thirty minutes. It was like the clock was taunting you. You sat in silence, with your mother putting the final touches on your makeup. 

“You should have listened to me. You shouldn't have lied.” Your mother spoke in a cruel tone. Tutting out about your features as she did. “This wouldn't be happening. You could of been happy with that Black boy, he is friends with that Lupin kid too, you could of-”

“Could of lied to myself? Become an obedient housewife? Or sneak off with my husband's best friend behind his back?” You snarked in a calm tone and she scoffed. “If that's what you wanted, you could have had it. You are a {L/N}, yes, but you are my daughter. You should have known how to make this work for you. Without making us bring his kind into our family.” 

“Ha! His kind? Mother, I think you've forgotten! I am his kind! And you're about to marry me off to the man who made me one!” You shouted, met with a firm slap across your cheek. You lifted your hand to touch the tender skin as your mother stood up and stomped to the door. “Finish up and be out here in 20 minutes, I will not wait longer than that.”

You were left in your room. It was quiet again. Your head leaned back to stop the tears that threatened to pour. You resisted the urge to cry, straightening up when you heard your door open. Taking a deep breath, figuring it to be your father. “I am still not ready.” You whispered.

“You look bloody magnificent, what else is there to do?” 

That voice. Oh Merlin please. 

You shot to your feet and turned to face him, startled. “R-Remus! What are you doing here?” You asked quickly, walking over to him to yank him fully into the room and close the door. 

He instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist and smiled bright at you. “I've come to get you.” He whispered and you took a deep breath. “Remus, what are you talking about?” You whispered and he gave you a determined look.

“Do you trust me?”

“... yes?” You whispered and he lit up.

“Good enough, do you love me?”

“Remus-”

“Do you?” He pried and leaned closer. You took a deep breath and slowly nodded. “Yes.” 

He gave a large and exaggerated sigh of relief, pulling a giggle from you. “Thank Merlin, I thought this was for nothing.” He whispered and pulled out a box from his coat pocket. Your jaw dropped and you looked around quickly before you rapidly shook your head. “Remus, don't be foolish.”

“The only thing foolish about me is not asking you to stay with me. I know this is fast, but I think I've known for a while.” He declared and opened the box. It was a modest ring, very unlike the large stone on your hand now. 

“Remus-”

“Princess, I know. For once, stop thinking as a {L/N}. Think like a {Y/N}. Better, if I beg enough, would you think like a Lupin?” He begged and you gave a watery laugh. Covering your mouth with your gloved hand and shook your head, this time in amusement as he got down on one knee. He seemed to light up at your delight.

“You look like a fool.” You giggled out and he shook his head.

“Only thing that could possibly make me look like a fool now is if I brought back my mothers ring with no one attached to it, princess.” He implored and you gave another laugh. It sounded like heaven to him. 

“Unless you want me on both knees? I can do that, darling, I can.” He declared and you shook your head. “Remus, get up and put the ring on my damn finger.”

He gave you the most dazzling smile as he stood. Taking your hand and throwing Greyback’s ring across the room. Giving you a goofy look as he slipped his mother’s ring on your finger. You gave him a bright smile and bit your lip. Before grabbing him by his lapels and yanking him down into a kiss. It lasted no longer than a moment before you both pulled away in a fit of giggles. “So, what's your plan to get us out of here?”

“Simple, really.” He mused and scooped up your hand and walked backwards to the door. “We run.”

Your jaw went slack and your eyes widened. “You're mad!”

“Think like a Lupin, darling.” He teased and yanked you out of the room. You have a startled yelp when you came face to face with your mother. Surely there to bring you to your debut. You looked at Remus who bit the corner of his lip and yanked you along.

In another fit of giggled and young foggy foolishness. You both ran. Ran past your mother, who made no move to stop you, past the ballroom, past several guests, when you were finally noticed you ran right past your shouting father and a rather angry looking Greyback.

You ran after Remus, eventually he stopped by a car, and you laughed. “You came in a muggle car!?” You exclaimed in delight and he smiled. “Get in, will ya!?”

You hurried in and bumped into Sirius, looking up at him with wide eyes as Remus closed the door behind them, “Drive!” 

“Congratulations, pretty girl.” Sirius spoke up. “Lovely dress.” 

“Thank you.”

You gave him a bright smile and looked to the front seat, James focusing on the road and Lily looking behind her seat and waving. “Hey! We met once before, nice to meet you officially!” She introduced herself with a calm that was certainly not matching the manic sounds outside the car. “My name is Lily! Lily Evans. Looks like we match.” She mused and flashed her ring. You couldn't stop smiling like an utter fool. “Nice to meet you!”

“This is Sirius Black.” She introduced, and Sirius leaned forward with a nod, you have a brief greeting, before she turned back to the front and put her hand on James’s arm. “This is James Potter, my lovely fiancé.” She chimed as your eyes locked with a stupid love sick looking Remus. 

“Have I mentioned how I love your friends?” You whispered and he leaned forward and took your lips for his own.

Lily was curious when you didn't respond and glanced back, just in time for Sirius to complain. “Merlin, why am I stuck back here with the horny teens!?"

[kujiba]

【Mew Mew Bitch】

୨୧ — ꒰ Cat!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior

A/n: silly little idea after writing gore

Mondstadt / Liyue / Inazuma / Sumeru / Fontaine / Natlan / Snezhnaya

— Okay but Cat reader who gets thrown into Sagau

I like to imagine Cat!Reader gets worshipped like cats back in ancient Egypt lmao, In mondstat you're basically just chilling around roofs and stuff which makes the character's panick internally telling you to come down since its dangerous

But you couldn't give af so you just jump down and land on your two feet casually making the subjects look dumbfounded. You're still restricted though from the roofs since you could get hurt (as if)

Venti is DEVASTED he is unable to come close to you because of his allergies, bro is just watching you from afar like some wife investigating on her cheating husband

He does frequently assist you through wind currents and help pick stuff up from heights you can't reach, hearing you be thankful for him is worth sneezing so much!

You and diona are literally bff's with each other! Diano absolutely looks up to you like an older sibling and you look back at her as your own.

Whenever theres some drunk weirdo coming towards her with bad intentions you always just use your claws to scratch the persons eyes or any part of their body.

You're pretty confused by Diona's plans to destroy the wine industry that diluc runs but tag along anyway since there are pretty few people who are like you

Speaking of diluc, you actually visit him sometimes... Well not him but his garden, it's your #1 spot to hang around aside from the rooftops of people's houses.

Diluc eventually made a hobby to just watch you from the balcony or window of his home while drinking some beverages. He's pretty amused to watch you jump and catch butterflies or insects flying around his property, he occasionally stops you from eating them too. Much to your dissapointment

Klee is also one of your playmates, both of you adore going fish blasting or catching some interesting stuff from the forests to keep as little treasures or trinkets.

The only bad part is when you guys get caught by Jean and get put into temporary solitary confinement, but you guys past the time with drawing stuff you had capture or saw and make more plans to go adventure! Maybe even invite diona next time.

Two more people is Aether and paimon! You were pretty much just really hungry and accidentally began to nibble on paimons arm making her almost pass out thinking she was going to get eaten by you

You did eventually made up to them by cooking the two a meal which paimon happily accepted. Aether likes it whenever you're around, not just because you're basically the creator but also since you were great company to them!

While assisting them in a adventure you were able to track down multiple targets in a span of minutes just by your animal senses which impressed Aether because he won't have to go through so much trouble in bounties anymore

Overall, Cat reader best au because meow meow

[andy-15-07]

hi! I love your feyd rautha fics 🥰 can you write one where the reader is pregnant with his child, a female, and he’s upset and cold with the reader because she’s not a male heir? but then, when she’s born, he’s so transfixed by her beauty and just the fact that she’s his, and that he just melts and swears to kill anyone for her?

My precious one

masterlist ! pairing: Feyd Rautha x reader

Dune Masterlist

The halls of the fortress echoed with an air of tension as Y/n, heavily pregnant with Feyd Rautha's child, moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors. Feyd, the formidable heir to House Harkonnen, had been distant and cold ever since learning the gender of their unborn child. Tradition demanded a male heir, and Y/n's heart ached with the weight of disappointment as she faced the impending birth of a daughter.

"Y/n," Feyd's voice, usually smooth and commanding, was laced with discontent as he entered their chambers. "What use is a daughter to the House of Harkonnen? You were to bear me a son, a worthy successor."

Y/n's eyes welled with tears, but she fought to maintain her composure. "Feyd, she is still our child, a part of both of us. She will carry the blood of House Harkonnen."

He scowled, turning away. "A daughter will bring us nothing but weakness. I need an heir who can command respect, instill fear in our enemies. This changes everything."

As the days passed, Feyd distanced himself further, leaving Y/n feeling isolated and burdened. The weight of disappointment settled upon her like a heavy cloak, but she clung to the hope that when their daughter arrived, Feyd's heart would soften.

The day of reckoning came, the air thick with anticipation as Y/n went into labor. Feyd, though present, maintained a stoic silence, his eyes betraying the turmoil within. The labor was arduous, but when the cries of their newborn daughter filled the room, Y/n felt an overwhelming sense of joy and relief.

"She's here, Feyd," Y/n whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Our daughter."

Feyd's eyes met the tiny, squirming bundle in Y/n's arms, and for a moment, the hardness in his gaze softened. The baby girl had a delicate beauty that seemed to captivate him, a sight that defied his earlier expectations.

"What shall we name her?" Y/n asked, her heart swelling with love for their precious child.

"Feydra," he said, the name rolling off his tongue with a tenderness that surprised them both.

Feydra's arrival sparked a transformation in Feyd. The once cold and distant heir was now consumed by an overwhelming protectiveness and love for his daughter. As he held her for the first time, his fingers traced the contours of her tiny face, and he couldn't help but marvel at her innocence.

"She's ours, Y/n," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "I will do anything to protect her. No harm shall come to our Feydra."

From that moment on, Feyd became an attentive and devoted father. He would spend hours cradling Feydra in his arms, his stern countenance replaced by a softness that only she could evoke. The fortress, once a place of cold authority, became a haven for the blossoming love between father and daughter.

As Feydra grew, Feyd's determination to shield her from the harsh realities of their world intensified. He vowed to eliminate any threat that dared to cast a shadow over her, swearing to protect her with a fierceness that only a father's love could inspire.

One day, as father and daughter strolled through the fortress gardens, Feyd's eyes gleamed with an unspoken promise. "Feydra, my precious one, you are the future of House Harkonnen. No harm will befall you as long as I draw breath. I would destroy worlds to keep you safe."

Feydra, oblivious to the dangers that lurked beyond the fortress walls, gazed up at her father with adoration. In those moments, Feyd's heart swelled with a love that transcended bloodlines and tradition. The bond between father and daughter had forged a legacy that defied the expectations of House Harkonnen, proving that love could be a force more powerful than any political alliance or familial obligation.

[anisangeldust]

Religion in your lips 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: A turning point had been established in your relationship with the president. Or several..

Part: ← ii →

Warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, creepy/perv Coryo, misogyny, masturbation (m), wet dreams, emotional abuse, manipulation, mentions of grooming, allusions to murder, objectification.

A/N: I need him expeditiously. Also I’m so sorry that this is so late! I’m working as fast as I can!

A dastardly crime you had unwillingly committed, you had began to not only wedge yourself into the life of the president, you also absentmindedly plagued his whole being. One week, one week of work and you were already a problem.

Coriolanus couldn’t help the way you became his muse, you occupied every free and taken crevice of his mind, yet you were so blissfully ignorant of the predator so carefully stalking your move; waiting for a prime opportunity to pounce. The President was a smart man however, he knew that patience was key, and if he wanted to have you at all, he needed to be careful.

Everyday he’d watch from his office as you took your lunchtime break, sitting within the gardens of the presidential estate and chatting with the gardeners. Taking notice of which flowers you seemed to be drawn to, as to which he decided he’d get you a bouquet of your favorite under the feign guise of thankfulness. Testing the waters he thought.

So Coriolanus couldn’t help but feel satisfied when he saw the small smile on your face. Was it that easy to impress you? Nevertheless, he felt immense satisfaction when you tucked the little note he wrote into your front pocket and took one of the flowers to place in your hair.

The young president swore he’d never care for another again, yet here he stood, in lust with a simple worker, and sooner or later he was going to get what was his. To get you.

——

“Gypsophila is a highly toxic flower, deadly if consumed. But it is very pretty.” You rambled to the president as he sat sipping tea. The most beautiful sight you were, so full of life, so happy, oh how he craved to posses you; to destroy the youthful innocence you paraded like a trophy.

“Interesting indeed.” Coriolanus nodded, his gaze never leaving your perky chest and silky hair. A beat of comfortable silence passed when young Snow remembered his fiancée’s behavior, the dwindling aggravation now building up again. “And i’d like to apologize on behalf of my bride-to-be. She is a little shall I say.. enraging at times” He sighs and leans back.

“Worried I was not Coriolanus.” Your smile and innocent acceptance made him furious in a way. The need to sink his teeth into you was almost overwhelming. He wanted to cut you open and crawl inside your ribcage. This was a feeling he’d known never before, and he was positive it’ll linger for the rest of his natural life. Before you blessed him with your presence, he had yet to see someone so willing to do a good job, your aura was addicting.

“You know, I don’t really love her.” The words left Coriolanus’ lips before he could stop himself. He almost chuckled at the way your brows furrowed.

“My condolences? Why.. are you marrying her then?”

“You know, capital business.” He sighs and leans back. If only he had picked you! Such a scenario had swept through his mind many times since he’d met you. If only he could’ve waited. “Such a shame I choose such a…brat.” He scowled at the thoughts of his fiancée.

The look on your face was somewhere between shocked and startled. It was amusing how Coriolanus could tell you were biting your tongue to hold back your own thoughts on his future beloved.

“Allow me to not meddle in your personal business Coriolanus.. but I suppose if you want unsolicited advice, it’s never too late to change your mind. You’re already president. One called off marriage won’t kill you” your polite voice was so calming to the achy soul he possessed. The young Snow knew you had no idea of his intentions for you, and that thought was delicious.

“I appreciate your insight darling. I shall think about your words carefully. I fear you’re too smart for the position you hold at the moment.” He chuckles. You deserved the seat of First Lady, the title of his wife, do be the mother of his future kids, and it took every molecule of his being to hold back from expressing that desire.

Comfortable silence fell into the room, only the quiet scuffling of feet or sipping tea piercing the lack of noise. The thought of being so comfortable with a person was a concept so foreign to Coriolanus. the last person he was comfortable with had betrayed him, left him to die in the forest. Something about you, however, was different. His songbird didn’t see what she missed, she craved the wild life she had. You enjoyed order, respected Panem, you’d never leave him like she did. You’d never leave him like she did. A pang of vulnerability struck the president’s chest. Could he really trust you? Would you betray him like she had? No, you wouldn’t, because he could control you. And you’d let him.

If the want wasn’t already clear enough in its mind, that moment solidified it. He had to get rid of Livia. He had to have you. and then his face falls in the same breath. A foreign thought crossed his mind at the same time though. What if you already had someone? The idea made him seethe. How dare someone else have what’s his? He’d ask you. No need to jump to conclusions right?

“Darling. You’ve never mentioned any kind of boyfriend? Don’t mind my prying, I’m just curious.” He says in masterly hidden mock confusion.

“Oh uh.. I was dumped actually. Right before I took this job. He said he needed to focus on himself or whatever else they all say” his words adding a small flush to your cheeks.

Good. This was good. No, this was excellent. Single and vulnerable. Ready for the perfect man to save you from your pain and heartbreak, ready for a strong and handsome man like him to make you feel worthy again. He couldn’t have written this better himself.

“Oh darling, I’m so sorry. He sounds like a dunce, you’re clearly too good for him anyway.” Coriolanus smiles, opening up the door of careful manipulation.

A bloom of pink popped into your cheeks at his words. “Thank you Mr. President. I’m thankful we’re over. And I appreciate your compliment.” Your murmur back was almost funny. And the attempt to hide the flush on your face with turning and dusting a random surface was funnier to him.

“You’re welcome darling.” His short response and wink made your heart beat visibly faster, but he chose just to let you do your job and not bring it up. Mentally he was kicking himself. For having you so close yet unreachable. How was he supposed to get rid of his bride-to-be? It would be a scandal, one too big to cover. The Cardew family would stop at nothing to tear him down if he left her, he’d lose all he had. Amidst his thinking, he stood up and pleaded against the bookshelf you were dusting. “You can tell me if Livia says something rude. You’re a maid, yes, but you’re still a person. Don’t be scared to let me know if she’s making you uncomfortable.” He cooed smoothly.

“Will do. Thank you Mr. President. Though she isn’t that bad. We just got off on the wrong foot. But of course I’ll tell you if she does anything.” Your cheery attitude was refreshing. A light in a dull atmosphere.

“Thank you darling.” Coriolanus kissed your hand gently before leaving. What a gentleman.

——

Damn you and your little dress. Damn you and the fabric that clung to your curves so nice. How could he focus on anything? His eyes darted around his office, desperate to find something to focus on, and find something he did. A rag you’d left. A rag that you clipped onto your skirt to wipe off your forehead occasionally. Immediately, Coriolanus stood up and took the white fabric in his hands. It belonged to the manor, it was soft and good quality, and upon further inspection, it had a small stain on it. Your sweat.

His pants tightened as he brought the fabric up to his nose and took a whiff, your perfume lingered on the threads, teasing him. The thought of using Livia crossed his mind, after all, what was she good for if not as a tight cunt? But it felt almost insulting to you to fuck Livia in your place. The last time he did it left a sour taste in his mouth. He couldn’t just take you, not yet, he needed more time before he made his move. Left with no other options, Coriolanus locked his office with a click and sat down in his chair.

He freed his erections from the confinement of his pants and boxers, softly stroking his hardening cock with the marked cloth. The sight of his pre mixed with the little bit of sweat had him going crazy. The need for you was insatiable, he couldn’t help himself as he pumped his hand up and down his cock, stopping to tease the fat tip with his new prized possession. He brought the tag up to his nose to smell your scent again, pumping his dick as he inhaled the fumes. He came to the thought of spreading you open like a flower and indulging in your soaking pussy. He was only lightly embarrassed when his mind came to. Though it was drowned out quickly by the satisfaction of his orgasm. He needed you badly, and he was more determined than ever to get you.

——

Over the next few days he gave you small gifts, chocolate, a bracelet, an up in pay, all because he “felt bad you got broken up with” of course. He was a compassionate man, of course he cared about you! How dare you think he was just going this to get you to trust him and tell him more about your private life? He was. It was a little tiring having his other staff ask you the questions and then report back to him, but the smile and flush on your cheeks made it worth it. And his attempts weren’t in vain, the longer he pined, the more you told him, the more ammunition he had to get you to say more; a deliciously vicious cycle.

The more you trusted him, the more you told him about anything Livia did, He expected Livia to be an asshole. He knew that it was only a matter of time before she was rude enough that you said something. What Coriolanus didn’t expect, was for his fiancée to physically harm you. And especially not right in front of him. The soft thud and following mewl of pain from outside his office had caught his attention. He got up and went to the source of the sound, only to find his fiancée standing over your crumpled form.

“I thought your job was to clean? How are you supposed to get anything done if you’re such a klutz? Oh come on, that didn’t hurt” she taunted as you tried to get up off the floor. It was clear she pushed you, or tripped you in some way, that didn’t matter to Coriolanus though, she hurt you. And he was pissed.

“Hey, what the fuck happened here?” He demanded, anger pointed 100% at Livia, though the anger made you wince.

Livia turned around immediately, acting like she had found and helped you. “Oh It’s all okay Coryo, she was just cleaning and she fell, nothing to worry about, I was just making sure she’s alright!” Livia clutched her chest, gently helping you up. Coriolanus didn’t believe it for a second.

“Really? Is that true?” He said as he turned to you, eyes squinted in disbelief

You felt put on the spot, he’d be mad if you lied, but you couldn’t just tell him she did it and run the risk of her hating you more than she already did, so the former seemed best. “Y-yeah. She, she did find me. I just fell” you muttered sheepishly.

Coriolanus knew you lied, and that angered him, But he also knew that you would’ve told the truth if Livia wasn’t there. The knowledge that you were going to tell him everything after was comforting enough for him to huff and sigh “I’m sorry. I just don’t appreciate dawdling.” He sailed in an eerily calm tone. Livia snickered like she’d won something, and Coriolanus forced himself to just keep walking and not shout at his fiancée.

Young Snow was standing and peering out of the window in his office when he heard you open the door and walk in. He heard you gently start to clean the many books and surfaces that lined the room. Coriolanus liked that about you, you never spoke to him unless he spoke to you first, and it turned him on.

“My anger was not directed towards you.” He started “though I’m slightly miffed that you lied to me. Tell me what she actually did” he turned around to look at you, his face stern yet inviting as he waited for your explanation of the events.

He noticed your slight gulp and timid frame as you put down your rag to look at him. “She uh.. I was wiping down lamps in one of the lounges when.. she- she pushed me into a table, and a p-picture frame landed on my head..” your mumbles and stutters would have been cute if he was pissed off. The nerve that woman had, and to play victim too? He was just about at his wits end with her.

“It’s okay darling. I believe you. And I’m quite annoyed that she would abuse staff like that. She’s jealous that you’re better than she is, that’s all” he coos and walks towards you. He gently puts his large hands on your arms “you’re doing great. You’re the best maid I could’ve asked for. Now go finish your job for today. I’ll get you something for the inconvenience and I’ll talk with her.” He said as he leaned down and gently kissed your cheek.

——

“I don’t appreciate you abusing staff Livia.” His voiced was stern and unapologetic, the opposite of how he approached you, as he entered his quarters of the presidential manor.

“What could you possibly be talking about Coryo? If it’s about the maid then I told you, she fell and I found her. It’s not my fault she’s a klutz.” Livia scoffed at the mention of you.

Coriolanus slammed his hand on the wall, his eyes full of fire. “I didn’t give you permission to speak woman. Shes been working here 3 weeks and she’s ‘fallen’ twice. And both times she was conveniently in your surroundings. If it happens again I’ll be very, very disappointed.” He says through gritted teeth and goes to walk away but stops. “And my name isn’t Coryo. Its Coriolanus. I don’t care that you’re my fiancée, you’ll treat me with respect.” He demanded before pushing past her to take a much needed shower.

Falling into the clutches of morpheus came easier than expected that night. In the realm of dreams, Coriolanus' unconscious mind becomes a canvas of desire and longing. Your delicate form becomes the centerpiece of his erotic fantasy, envisioned sprawled across his desk, the epitome of seductive submission. As the dream unfolds, his touches and caresses paint vivid imagery, a private symphony of pleasure that reflects his deepening admiration and desire for you. Coriolanus' dream grows even more intense as you become increasingly sensual and inviting, giving yourself to him so fully and passionately. The boundaries of his imagination blur, and he loses himself in the intoxicating pleasure of your presence. He moans and groans, overtaken by the overwhelming sensations of desire and satisfaction. He whispers your name gently, his voice filled with both reverence and need

When his eyes cracked open to the rays of morning sunlight, he was both grateful for the opportunity of another day with you, and irked that he woke up to the sleeping body of his useless fiancée.

——

Coriolanus started looking forward to when you’d come into his office to clean and chat. What was once cold small talk had morphed into you telling him everything about yourself. How you were a recent academy graduate, you were open to but didn’t have any plans for University, you had a white cat named Pearl that you love like a child, and you preferred tea to coffee. All facts that seemed so mundane about others were so tantalizing coming from your lips.

“So this job is only until you decide on what you want to do? That’s a shame. You’re very good at it. Replacing you wouldn’t be fun. But I’m proud of you for working and earning money. Not many people do that in the capitol. Especially not those who come from rich backgrounds like you do.” Coriolanus said with feigned nonchalance as he absentmindedly stirred his tea.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who could clean the mansion just as well, if not better than I” your tone was sweet and soft, you’d never understand. No one could ever be you, you were too important, how would he survive without you? He wouldn’t.

Coriolanus stood up and chuckled “I’m sure, but none of them are as kind, or sweet, or as beautiful as you” he coos and tilts your chin up to look at him “none of them could captivate me like you have” he murmurs. This was a now or never moment. He couldn’t go back now, and with your big eyes preening up at him he couldn’t resist. He gently leaned down and captured your lips in his own, gently cradling your head and holding your face.

“Coriolanus..” you murmured and he gently broke away with a small smirk playing at the edges of his lips, his gaze cast down to look at your wide and surprised expression.

“Shhh.. I know you wanted that too darling, tell me to stop and i will” he mumbles as he captures your lips in his own again, gently waiting for you to accept the kiss. A wave of satisfaction washes over him as he fells you relax and accept the kiss, he grins against your lips as he feels you hands on his chest.

Your lips tasted of a sweetness he had never experienced, how he was meant to pretend he didn’t want you was a problem for the future, right now all that mattered where your lips and his desires. Getting rid of Livia may have to happen sooner than he anticipated.

Taglist!

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[dolicekiss]

Cherry Tree

PAIRING: Johann Struensee x Princess!Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ only, mdni) age gap (reader is nineteen, Johann is in his 30s as his age isn't specified in the movie), unprotected sex, body worshipping, oral (female receiving) fingering, slight food play, teasing, forbidden romance/affair, exhibitionism, praise kink, cold shoulder (reader is a sassy little princess), angst, fluff, johann is completely whipped for reader, just overall cute and sad shit because i bawled my eyes out watching a royal affair and johann deserves a happy ending.

SYNOPSIS: You were not fond of the new physician hired for your father, the king as the man led him astray, especially from your mother to brothels. So you always gave him the cold shoulder, not missing a chance to disrespect him but what you didn't know was the man was already attracted to you, stealing glances from you and finding you endearing everytime you insulted him.

You watched your father, throwing a fit, drunk in the hallway of the palace while your mother watched, drowning further in the humiliation of being married to such a hopeless and destroyed man.

Alongside stood Johann Struensee, and two new faces you didn't deem important. You couldn't hold back the quip that settled like poison at your tongue when Johann had told your mother that they were merely having fun. Having fun while humiliating her in brothels.

Your fingers scratched against the parapet, watching it unfold.

“I don't think the queen is interested in what a mere doctor has got to say, Struensee.” Everyone's attention shifted to you. They all knew how bold and fierce of a princess you were, your mother's pride and joy. The kingdom’s rebellious little princess. Just at the age of nineteen, you'd already mastered the art of raw manipulation.

Knowing that docile little women were trampled underneath the foot of court men.

Struensee’s gaze found you standing at the parapet from above and he smiled, his wrinkles appearing. Then he nodded his head and went silent, disappearing along with the king somewhere. Your father didn't care much for you, since you were a girl. Producing an heir was the only thing that mattered and he'd already done that.

Relieved himself of his duties to indulge in alcohol and prostitutes.

Your mother sent you a look of sadness but also a nod of appreciation, leaving for her chambers. The night passed by like nothing while you stirred in bed, clouded by thoughts on how to get rid of Struensee.

He clung onto the king and that displeased you.

Tomorrow came by and you were prepared for the day, to roam around the halls of the palace but you found more solace in the massive gardens. Filled with flowers and all sorts of fruits. Dressed in lace and net, you headed for breakfast. Everyone else was already situated at the table, including the man you despised.

As you sat down on the chair, in front of Johann’s, you began your breakfast. The conversation happening at the table was of no interest to you but then your father, the king spoke up. Catching everyone's attention.

“Johann will be becoming a part of the court soon enough.” His tone cheerful, as if everyone was pleased with the idea as much as he was.

Your fingers tightened around the metallic fork, stabbing it into the egg. It was an act you wished you'd done to Johann instead of the egg — biting down the inside of your cheek. Your mother was a frail woman, she didn't like the idea of Johann joining court but she couldn't do much to oppose it.

You, on the other hand, smiled.

“Forgive me for my words, but the court is full of respectful and renowned people.” The sound of metallic utensils colliding against one another stalled. “Johann Struensee is only a doctor, he would do the court no good.”

Your father thought but laughed out, pointing his finger at you. Everyone else stared at the scene unfold as Johann also joined in the king to laugh along, fuelling the anger that boiled inside you like a damn volcano.

“What would a woman know about the court? Eat your breakfast, stupid girl.” You sucked in your cheek, glancing at your mother who looked at you with an apologetic look. There was a voice inside you telling you to raise the fork and stab Johann with it.

But with your poorly containerd rage, you stood up from the seat. “I am sated.”

You left the room but not before throwing a vicious glare at the man with dirty blonde hair, who stared back at you. With a smug of victory on his face. Upon entering your room, you tossed your gloves off and kicked your shoes off.

Angered and irritated.

Hating the way your breasts felt plush against the tight corset. Having such feminine thighs or a cunt, which changed the way people saw perceived you as. Your word would have mattered if you were a man, if you possessed a fucking cock and not the parts which made you a woman.

There was a knock on the door and when you allowed the person in, it was your maiden.

“Doctor Johan Struensee wishes to enter your chambers, Princess.”

You wanted to tell her to forbade him. To abandon him from entering your chambers ever but you couldn't let him win by expressing your anger so you nodded. When you felt his presence, you turned around on your sock cladded feet and smiled at him.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Struensee?”

Your tone venomous and sarcastic.

Johann returned your smile, knowing very well it was fake. He didn't like how your father had spoken to you as he was a firm believer of women deserving the same respect as men did. Though voicing out such daring opinions could lead to his execution. Even if you had expressed your distaste against him, seemingly believing he was a bad influence to the king, he still thought you deserved respect.

“I apologize.” He said, firmly and you blinked on confusion.

Why was he apologising?

Your smile stayed tight. “And why are you apologizing, Doctor?”

He took a step closer, shrinking the space between the two of you. You didn't know if it was your mind playing games with you or if Struensee’s gaze had lingered to the pink hue of your lips. “I'm aware of the crown Princess’ distaste towards the King’s friends, specifically me.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and oblivious to you, Johann inhaled a sharp breath when your plush breasts nearly spilled out from beneath your tight corset. Pinkish color decorating the skin. You turned around from him, walking towards the books decorating your wooden shelf.

“Then you should not be here, Doctor. I'm very against the idea of you being on court, knowing you're the one who influences the royal highness to visit brothels.” Your voice was sweet but it was laced with a poisonous warning. Your delicate fingers ran across the books and Johann closed his eyes.

Mind taking him to a different place, imagining just how your fingers would look entangled with his.

This was immoral and a crime.

You were the Princess and he was a mere Doctor, twice your age too. There was no way you'd give in to him or even consider him attractive. He was here to apologize, he reminded himself. To be reprimanded by you for laughing along with the King at his humiliation of you.

Instead you were enticing him unknowingly.

“A man cannot be influenced by anyone if he swears loyalty to his woman.” Johann’s words made a bitter frown to cease your features. Even before his arrival, you'd known of your father's indulgence in women outside his marriage. In a way you only wanted to blame someone and seeing how Johann only increased your father’s visits to the disgusting brothels, he was the perfect vessel.

You scoffed. “I don't understand. A cunt is a cunt, no matter who it is attached to.”

His eyes widened at your choice of bold and immoral words. He knew you possessed ferocity and boldnesd, both perfect to rule over the kingdom but he didn't know you had such a filthy tongue too.

Johann was impressed and in complete awe.

He suppressed a smile. “How much power and resistance can it take to stay loyal to a woman? You men have and will always find ways to disappoint us women throughout the history.”

You hated the idea of serving under a man, obeying his every command and dealing with the non stop disrespect. You wanted to be queen, to fix the laws set by your ancestors and to rid people of this delusion under the pretense of religion.

Johann found himself more attracted to you now, seeing you in a different light. Before you were only a little girl who threw fits because she disliked him but now, you were a woman with big dreams and strength.

“I'm impressed, Princess.”

You looked at him, with a fake smile. “I wish I could say the same for you, Doctor Stuensee.”

A chuckle nearly slipped him. He soon excused himself from your company, leaving your chambers. The whole night he thought about you, how delicate you were but also strong and resilient. Having lived between women who were docile, weak and often easily silenced, you were a breath of fresh air for him.

— ♡ —

Your maidens had dressed you up. In frills and lace. The stupid, endless routine boring you to death. Denmark was a beautiful country and you wished to explore it yet your gender did not allow you to. You skipped breakfast, not wanting to face your father or Johann, aftwe the humiliation he'd caused you and headed for the garden. You grasped onto your book and dismissed your maidens for a moment of solitude.

Away from all the bickering and banter of royalty.

You sat on a cemented bench, parting open your book to read it. The birds sung in beautiful, minor chirps and the sound of the water droplets falling from the tip of leaves was comforting to the ears. Next to you was a cherry tree and you reached out for it, plucking a fresh cherry and plopping it into your mouth.

Almost moaning at the taste of how delicious ripe and fresh fruits were.

Continuing to read your book and enjoy the fruit, you soon lifted your gaze up to scan the area and found Struensee situated on a bench far away from yours, eyes fixed on you. You were slightly taken aback but covered it up nonetheless.

He too had a book in his hand and you squinted your eyes, to find the same book you were reading in your hand.

The fact that you both shared the same taste slightly bothered you, but you shifted your attention back to the ink stamped into the biege paper.

Your curiosity though, would get the best of you from time to time as you'd raise your gaze and steal glances from him. Only to find that he did the same, raising his eyes from the contents of his book to admire you. Johann had always found you beautiful, if not endearing.

He saw it that you cared about your people, that you wanted to do more than just parade around in beautiful dresses with maidens tending to all your needs. Born a girl was a curse, you saw it that way always and Johann was aware.

You plucked out a cherry and instead of plopping it into your mouth, you bit on it and traced it along your lower lip. Its juices leaving a red trail over your rosette lips. Johann watched you with a penetrative gaze, his adams apple bobbing up and down. Catching onto the little act done under lost thought.

The juice from the cherry dropped down your chin, leaving a messy trail and you giggled at the ticklish coldness of it. Not paying any mind to the man that was drinking you in like cherry wine.

Before you could delve deeper into what your book had to offer, Johann stood up to his feet and made his way towards you. You stared at him for a moment before finally scooting away.

An invitation for him to sit next to you.

“I did not know you were a fan of such books, Princess.” He commented and you let out a soft laugh, for the first time dropping your cold demeanor. The sugar from the cherries had definitely affected you.

You licked your lips, wetting the cherry tainted skin. “Love stories are a foreign concept for someone like me. It is best to read about them and forget.”

“You don't believe in love?”

You shook your head, teeth digging into your lower lip. He caught onto that and his fingers curved around the bench, tightening. There was so much self control he could possess after all. Being a man didn't help either.

“I'm nineteen. They will soon marry me off to someone I don't even know and I will face the same fate as my mother did.” Your tone was soft, different from your usual cold tone, sadness lingering underneath it. Johann understood you, but didn't feel you as he could never feel what a woman felt.

Johann’s eyes dropped to your hand and he almost held it. He stayed silence, watching as you reached for a cherry and bit into it, the juices squirting and making a mess over your lips. He couldn't accuse you of purposely enticing him but fuck, you were such a gorgeous girl.

He wanted nothing more than to claim you as his.

“Would you like some, Doctor Struensee?”

Instead of answering you, his hand moved on its own accord. Reaching for your small delicate wrist, fingers trapping it. He brought it to his lips and your breathing became uneven the moment your fingertips coming in contact with his lips. Johann’s gaze swallowed yours, while taking a the cherry into his mouth. You flinched when your fingers felt the inside of his mouth, teeth running over your skin.

Then he let you go.

A turmoil had been caused inside you.

He watched as your plump chest rose up and down, noticing the attraction swirling like wildfire in your darkened eyes. Johann knew he was playing with fire. You could tell anyone, get him executed for daring to hold your wrist.

But instead you stood up and left.

Running out of the garden, leaving behind your book and georgette scarf.

— ♡ —

You were in the garden again, late at night.

This time searching for your book by the bench, sneakily hoping no one would catch you. The bustling of bushes caught you off guard and when you stood up straight, it was Johann.

In his hand was your book and georgette scarf.

“Looking for this, Princess?”

You blinked your eyes. “Yes, I must've dropped it.”

You reached over to take a hold of your book but he pulled it back, leaving you confused. You blinked and reached for it once more, this time around more firmly but Johann only smiled, taking a step back from you.

Johann found you completely captivating. There was not an ounce of makeup on your face, skin bare. Your silky night gown exposed your shoulders and reached your ankles, covering most of you. No longer were your breasts plumped up and Johann wanted to unveil them. Expose them to his gaze, to his touch.

Your hair cascaded down in beautiful waves and he sharply took in a breath.

“Doctor, I am in no mood to be playing games. Hand me my book right this very instant.” You took a step forward but because it was dark, your foot rolled over a branch and you lost balance — finding yourself right in his arms.

Johann held you, staring down at you, lips shuddering from the proximity. You swallowed tightly and Johann noticed that, your gaze following his lips. An urge to crash your lips against his took over you and you'd almost leaned in but then you pulled back from him, fixing your hair.

You stared at him.

He returned it.

And then the curtain of patience cand crashing down. He closed the distance between the two of you, crashing his lips against yours. The kiss desperate and impatient. Your hands found his nape while he feverishly consumed you.

You didn't care for the customs of your family anymore. Ever since you'd left the garden, you thought about Johann. This time not to get rid of him but to meet him, to satiate this hunger of yours that he had awakened within you.

His hands flew to your silky night dress, aggressively slipping it off you meanwhile your fingers moved skilfully underneath his loose white shirt, trying to slip it off him. Johann held your face with both his hands, tongue battling with yours. He'd claimed you like no one had.

The fact that you two were indulging in such a daring act out in the open where anyone could see you, it only added more to the thrill of it all. Johann broke the kiss, pulling apart but before he could say something, you already pushed against him. Occupying his lips again.

You were inexperienced but well aware of what happened between a man and a woman.

Teeth colliding with teeth, tongue producing saliva and lips becoming wet, the kissing sounds were drowned out by the sound of the river. Mother nature coming in hand to help you both conceal the debauchery perfomed in its grasp.

Your fingers tugged at his roots, your body going flaccid against his. He could feel your breasts and he groaned in your mouth at the contact. His own shirt was discarded and he laid you down on the grass, holding your body gently.

You finally tore from him, in dire need of oxygen.

“This is wrong.” You whispered, staring into his eyes. “So wrong.”

Johann nodded and went back to kissing you, pulling onto your lower lip with this sharp teeth. You could feel his hands dropping down, fondling with your breasts. One hand fitting over the two — thumbs flicking the hardened peaks back and forth. Your back arched off the grass, feeling its pointy tips prickle your skin a little.

Johann leaned down, face hovering right over your breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth and to conceal your sounds, you forced your palms over your mouth while staring down at him. Feeling his wet tongue lap at your nipple, as he sucked on it and nipped around it.

“Doctor, please.” You pleaded, oblivious to what you were begging for.

He pulled back with a pop and stared at you, his darkened pupils reflecting your desire for him. “Call me Johann. I need you to say my name when I'm buried inside you, my beautiful Princess.”

You nodded your head. Heat pooling into your stomach at how hoarse voice, the embers delivered right to your moist cunt. Your hands reached for his face, wrapping around the ridges of it, fingers flicking his strands back to their old position.

“You're so pretty.” You complemented him, running your tongue over your swollen and red lips. Johann nearly lost all restraint, dropping his face between your thighs. Brawny hands slithering over your them as he buried his face deep into your cunt.

“Princess, remember when you said a cunt is a cunt no matter who is it attached to.” Johann recalled your words and you panted in anticipation. “I think it matters, Crown Princess as I have tried to fuck many cunts to satiate my hunger for yours.”

Your lips fell apart a little, a soft gasp of shock leaving you. Before you could register his words and how he was fucking other women to fulfill his desire for you, Johann had commited to bringing you otherworldly pleasure. His tongue running up and down your virgin pussy, catching a taste he knew he'd become obsessed with.

Your hips wormed on the grass, teeth sinking into the side of your hand to prevent you from screaming. Chills dressed you up under the dark, sinful night as Johann continued devouring your cunt. Flicking your swollen clit with his licentious tongue, then circling it around.

Your one hand snuck into his hair, pulling and gripping while the other bled from all the harsh biting.

“Johann. Johann, I feel weird. It all feels weird.” You cried out his name like a mantra, in soft little whimpers and barely audible whispers. If anyone were to find out about this, you'd both be done for. You'd be exiled and Johann would face a fate worse than yours.

Yet he was risking it.

Just to get a taste of you.

Butterflies flooded in your stomach when your foggy mind registered that.

Your abdomen was being pinched and nipped at from all the overwhelming pleasure but more was yet to come when Johann slid his fingers inside your virgin hole. One finger and you were gasping like he'd slid his cock inside you.

He looked up at you, the moonlight illuminating his beautiful features and the gloss over his lips told you it was your arousal that had branded him. “My doll, just let it go. Don't hold it in, okay?”

You nodded.

He began to finger you. Curving the digits in a search for that spot of yours and when he earned himself a cry straight from your throat, Johann realized he found his crown princess’ sensitive spot.

So he hit it, repeatedly, feeling the jelly spot with his fingertips. All while you released muffled whimpers of desire, abdomen tightening and reflexing. Your hands desperately cupped his face, a plea of silence in your blurry vision.

“Kiss me, please. Need you to kiss me, Johann.” How could he deny you when you were asking with such politeness, staring back at him with blown out pupils and a sweaty face. Flesh raw and flustered.

He crawled up and captured your lips in a tight lock, swallowing all your whimpers when you came all over his fingers. His moving fingers coaxing more sounds out of you, only to drink them like a thirsty man who'd found an oasis in the middle of a desert.

“Princess, are you with me?” He saw how out of breath you were, staring above at the sky which sparkled with stars.

“Y-Yes.” You responded, still in a daze from the raw pleasure that surged through you like waves of electric.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, arms circling around you. “Do you wish to go further, Doll? Or shall I st—”

“Doctor you talk a lot.” You said, gaze finally focusing on him. Your bare breasts heaved up and down, in attempts to inhale as much oxygen as you could. “Fuck me before I change my mind. Before I condemn you to the pits of hell for laying a hand on me. Before I forget how good you make me feel.”

Johann pressed his tongue against the inside of his mouth, forming a bulge on his cheek and chuckled. He pried your legs open, revealing your glossy pussy to him.

“Your wish id my command, Princess.” Johann’s comment made you let out a subtle smile. Johann maneuvered his cock into your hole, feeling it tight just when he slipped in his thick cockhead.

Your thighs reflxed, hole clenching.

“At ease, Princess. You have to let me in.” He whispered, arms wrapped around you. He held you, slightly lifying you up from the grass as he slid into you slowly. Inch by inch. Your tears spilled at the stretch and how much it burned — feeling like it'll incinerate you.

You were still gripping him tightly, not allowing him in and the man grunted at how tight you were. It was obvious you were a virgin and he'd taken that virtue from you, feeling guilt spread in his heart but something dark also followed along.

He'd taken you.

Claimed you.

“It hurts, Johann.” You whimpered out, tears profusely decorating your face like fallen pearls. The man nodded his head, acknowledging your pain. He placed kisses all over your face, distracting you and the moment he felt you loosen up, he pushed all the way in.

Your body jerked. Arms tossing themselves around him. Clinging to him tightly as you felt him stretch your walls past their limits. Is this what it felt like sleeping with a man? Johann’s cock was thick and he did not lack when it came to length. It was too much to bear but your wanton helped you deal with the pain.

“See, all the way in. Are you okay, my doll?”

“Yes. Just continue, please.” Johann obliged and pulled out, only to forcefully thrust back inside. Your arousal helped slick his cock as he slid in and out of you. His growl was low and slipped right into your ear.

Johann held you while he fucked you, thrusting in you like he was claiming you. He loved how tight you were and as the cloud revealed the moon, he witnessed the blood of your virtue in the form of a ring around his length.

“You're like the moon itself. So beautiful and so heavenly, Princess.” Johann grunted, his hips stuttering into yours. His hands roaming down to caress each curve, each beauty spot and each part of you. You were blessed by the gods in such immense quantity, it was difficult to ignore.

Johann saw a goddess laid before him, not a human. A powerful beauty who had him on his knees by just mere stolen glances. You felt it too, the way he caressed you. Held you and felt your skin against his own. Appreciation oozing out of his actions.

As he delivered solid strokes into your cunt, driving himself deeper and abusing your sensitive area. “My pretty fucking Princess. If you'd asked me once, just once that you wanted this. I would've followed you myself into your chambers, would've taken you right then and there.”

Your body twitched. Cunt throbbing and walls gripping him tightly at his words. The idea of him taking you by force was supposed to be immoral and repulsive but maybe that is what you liked, enjoyed. Found delight in. Johann slipping into your chambers and taking you while you slept.

The idea didn't vex you, as it should have.

“Johann—my god. Just, keep going. Please keep fucking me.”

He couldn't explain how much he loved it when you moaned out his name. Your voice like a siren song, calling him to his doom and Johann would willingly follow you to the depths of the roaring sea.

Just the way your fingernails dug into his back, searing down and leaving him bloodied. You were a fucking feline, in heat. Leaving him covered in marks like some wild animal.

If anyone were to find out that their dear Princess was this disgusting, they would banish you forever. Practicing such debauchery and sinfulness.

The same feeling from before greeted you, but this time more intense, more strong and all consuming. Your body surged forward into the grass as Johann fucked himself into you deeper, to the point you could feel the man in your womb. Oh how fucking good it felt. To have him caress such deep, intimate parts of yours.

“Johann, Johann— It's happening again.” You sobbed, tightly holding him. Arms and legs both wrapped around him. He buried his face in your neck and left kisses all over, while encouraging out your release. You descended to heaven for a moment, feeling your soul leave your body when you came over his cock.

Johann felt you tremor in his hand, holding you down as you sobbed and tightened around him. The man hissed at how tightly you were sucking him in and after a few snaps of his hips, he too came. His seed filling you to the brim, staining your virgin walls with its thickness.

Your sobs died out, turning into little sniffles as your sensitivity heightened. Johann laid on top of you, but his weight was supported by his elbows. He dragged his face out of your throat and looked at you. Seeing how fucked out you were.

Face sweaty and saturated, swollen lips parted and chest rising up and down. You slowly flit your across over him and hugged him tightly, hiding your face in his chest. There was no regret, no guilt. You would do it again in a heartbeat.

“Princess?”

“I'm fine, Johann.” You responded, kissing his shoulder, dragging your nails down his spine to leave more marks.

The man pulled out of you soon causing you to gasp. He grabbed your night dress from the grass and pulled it down your head, fixing your frame. His big hands pushed back the hair from your face and his lips pressed over your nose, affectionately.

You couldn't stand up but when you did, you grabbed your book. Johann attempted to wrap the georgette scarf around you but you pushed at it, shaking your head. Getting on your tippy toes, you brushed your lips over the shell of his ear.

“Keep it. Keep it so when you recall back to claiming the Crown Princess’ virgin cunt, you use this to fuck your hand.” Your voice was drowsy, a sultry whisper and then you pulled back, disappearing into the bushes.

Leaving Johann Struensee completely obsessed and in love. He couldn't wait to enter your chambers.