#they end up breaking the table instead from sheer embarrassment

[evelynpr]

This clip from Love is War but its Izuku and Katsuki and they both are totally trying their best to win

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 91 }

bummerland.

denji x fem.reader

warnings: unedited; body fluid mention (denji changing his baby's diapers);

{ bummerland, sorry dear; but you're only going up from here! }

the moment his daughter was born, denji bawled.

and it wasn't a pretty or calm type of bawling, either, oh no. the tears that swelled from his chocolate brown eyes kept cascading down his pale cheeks like a never-ending waterfall. the sheer amount of snot that fell from his nose was embarrassing, falling into globs down his face as he couldn't seem to calm down- fuck.

seeing him in such a state, you, his beloved wife, ends up holding your daughter closer to your bare chest. you shake your head all while giving denji an exasperated expression "denji, please, blow your nose and wipe at your eyes. i will not let you hold our daughter while you're in such a state."

"o-okay okay, i-i get it!" denji proceeds to take the whole box of tissues, grabbing a handful before letting out a powerful blow in response. he spends the next couple of minutes cleaning and composing himself, and only when he was deemed presentable enough by you was he finally able to hold her.

with him settled so close to your hospital bed, you gently angle your form to face him, holding out your daughter currently bundled in a soft pink blanket as you beckon him to take a hold of her. the tears were ready to return once more upon seeing his precious baby so close to him.

exuding a gentleness that denji himself wasn't even aware that he was even capable of, he takes a hold of his bundle of joy, absolutely and irrevocably in love with the precious daughter within his arms. he couldn't help but allow the tears to stream again, unable to look away from such a beautiful sight.

"you're so fucking pretty, and so unlike your dad, who's got a mug that could make anyone cry." he compliments his baby girl with a rich chuckle, managing to lean in to press a kiss against her soft cheeks. "you take after your mom, that's for sure."

cuddling his sleeping daughter close to his chest, he looks back at you to see your own eyes brimming with tears. letting out a dreamy sigh of your name, denji inches closer to your form to press a lingering kiss against your lips. he felt so overwhelmed with happiness that he swore he could burst-

there were so many things he wanted to say; so many things he wanted to tell you-

but instead, he settles for what he knew he could manage to say in the midst of the onslaught of emotions he felt:

"thank you, i love you."

------

denji could feel the drool sliding down his chin when a cry suddenly breaks him out of his slumber.

still in a sleepy haze, he sits up in bed, eyes trailing down to your form to see that you were still asleep. running a hand across his hair, he trails his eyes towards the baby monitor to finally realize that his baby girl was crying.

being careful so as to not awaken you, denji hops out of bed and breaks into a sprint towards his daughter's bedroom. upon seeing her tiny form writhing from within the confines of her cradle, denji felt an ache settle from within the depths of his heart.

he picks up her form, quietly whispering her name in a gentle coo all while patting her on the back. unfortunately, nothing seemed to calm her down as her sobs quickly became more prominent, getting louder and louder by the minute.

not wanting her cries to wake you up, he concludes that his baby needed her diaper changed and proceeds toward the changing table. he had only done this a few times, but hopes that he could get better at it as time went on.

with his baby facing him, denji lets out a sigh of relief when her tears seemed to stop. her eyes were shimmering still, but at least she wasn't screaming like she had been a few minutes ago. it takes him a few tries, but finally, he manages to open up her diaper.

"hah?"

looking down at it, it looked completely dry to him, which further confused the young father. in fact, he was so perplexed that he touches at the inside of the diaper, further confirming that it was indeed dry-

however, such sentiments would only last a few seconds when he feels a stream of urine coming from his baby, causing him to immediately cover her up as he winces at the moisture felt against his skin.

as if teasing her own father, denji listens as his daughter lets out a string of giggles, now all too happy at what she had done. he glares down at her in mock anger, using his clean hand to gently poke at her chubby cheeks, "neh, are you teasing your papa? did you want to pee on him to get a laugh?"

cue another fit of giggles, further melting denji's heart as he sighs in response. "jeez, what am i gonna do with you? i can already tell you're gonna give your papa white hairs that'll last him a lifetime."

he lets out another soft coo of her name, reassuring his daughter that he will always love her-

even if she ends up playing pranks on him for the rest of his life.

------

you had just finished your morning shower when your ears perk up at some troubling sounds coming from the kitchen.

the moment you heard something crash, your instincts kicked in, quickly dressing up in your panties and pajamas before your feet pads against the hardwood floors of your home. you call out to denji and your daughter-

only to feel your heart sink at the sight in front of you.

your kitchen was a mess, filled with piles of flour and sugar as your five year old kept throwing the flour at her father's face. and denji, being so completely enamored with his troublemaker daughter, allows her to do as she pleases.

"denji! for the last time, you've got to stop doing this!" your voice tries to come off as being stern, but truly, just seeing your husband and daughter smiling so brightly makes your heart sing with happiness.

upon hearing your scolding, your daughter clutches the flour in her hand and give you a tearful expression. "i-i'm sorry mama. me and papa wanted to make pancakes, but it was funner to throw the powder at papa cuz of the faces he made..."

"yeah, we're sorry honey, we just got carried away. we'll clean this up soon."

you sigh, feeling a slow and steady ache form against the front of your head as you gently rub against it in hopes of relieving the slight pain. remaining silent for a couple of minutes, you relent before joining your beloved family.

"come on, mommy will help with making pancakes. and you, denji, are going to clean every nook and cranny."

"yes ma'am~" denji trills, taking advantage of your distracted state when he creeps closer to you, a pile of flour in hand before tossing it against the back of your head.

"oh my god, denji! i just got out of the shower!"

you held your daughter in your arms as denji kept on laughing in a playful manner, holding you in his embrace as he buried his face against your back. using his strength alone, he manages to pick you up, earning a gasp from you as your daughter let out a series of joyful giggles.

you sigh, but truly, this was absolute bliss. you basked in your beloved husband and daughter's joy, completely grateful at the fact that you could provide such warm memories for the both of them-

and you wouldn't trade this life for all of the treasures in the world ♡

a.n. - new story, new year ♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

looking through my notes for every point a pressure point and i found the 1.6k word mini-scenes i had to cut out of chapter 13 to get it down to 7.1k—since i don't really have any need anymore for this deleted scene in particular, i might as well put it up here.

it's douglas and theresa arguing after douglas gives her the ultimatum (if you've read rivalfic then you know what i'm referring to. if not... i suppose that gives you incentive to read the rivalfic.)

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Theresa snapped—but as the words left her mouth, her stomach fell; she knew she had said the wrong thing. “I mean…” she tried to rectify, feeling her face grow uncomfortably hot, but it was too late.

“You probably will not want to explain yourself. You say I don’t know what I’m talking about?” Douglas’ voice was ominously calm, and somehow it was infinitely worse than if he had lost his temper and shouted. Theresa almost—no, she definitely wished he had shouted at her instead. Never mind the embarrassment of being heard among the driver motorhomes: if he were shouting at her, she could take it better than what he was doing now. She’d been shouted at enough times her whole life, she was used to it; now, Douglas’s voice was low, his tone hushed and swaying, and oh my God, her heart was actually trying to break out of her chest, the way it was throwing itself against her breastbone to escape Douglas’s terrifying tranquility.

Theresa fumbled behind her for something to hold, found the edge of the table that was mounted into her motorhome’s floor, and gripped it hard to keep herself from shaking all over. “I didn’t mean…”

“Theresa,” Douglas interrupted coldly, and his use of the name she had been given, where he had always, always used the name she had chosen—that hurt like a bitch. “You do not have the privilege to lie to me.”

Theresa glued her mouth shut; her eyes were blown wide and tearless as she stared at her engineer in utter silence. The urge to cry was overwhelmingly smothered by the sheer fear running through her veins, the very same feeling she got after a spin, or skidding through a gravel trap, or ending in a wall.

A million things racing through her head—impulses jumping along her nerves, making the hair on her arms stand on end.

How much she wished she hadn’t said what she had about him.

How irrational this all was, for Douglas to see her fix one of the biggest mistakes of her life, and then have the nerve to scold her for doing so.

How paranoid Douglas was, to believe the whole world was out to get him; how unfair it was, for him to try to impose that belief on her.

But surpassing all of these was the biggest, most crushing fear of all—that for whatever reason that she didn’t even understand, what she had said warranted Douglas’s loss of respect for her:

How far they had to fall, from something that had been so incredibly good.

And then her eyes began to smart, and of course, someone chose that exact moment to rap once on the motorhome door and swing it open without being admitted; Martin stood at the doorway, his exuberant smile quickly sliding off his face once he took in what was happening inside.

“Tes—” he started, then saw Douglas, then saw Theresa crowded up against the table, then looked quickly between the both of them again, then momentarily thought to step outside, then immediately thought better of it and fully admitted himself into the room.

“Tessa,” he said, totally ignoring Douglas, who had averted his gaze from either of them. “You’re needed in the team motorhome. For the dinner,” he finished lamely.

Right. The team dinner.

It felt very hollow now.

Some birthday this was.

[galaxiasus-a]

❛  the things i’d do to you if we weren’t out in public …  ❜ sweetrav.

CONTINUE > LOAD FILE // screams in suggestive

File Name: @rotshope

There were moments that Travis has chosen to hold himself back. It had grown once he had learned how to control his impulses, to think before he did something that he considered too much, or too risky. It isn't often shown with many things he does, especially to those who barely know him. But it is especially clear when it comes to Sweets.

Often he would dial back. Sheer embarrassment, fear, or whatever excuse he could think of that he believed would justify his stubbornness. Stubbornness however was often not enough. Subtle desperation in the other's touch when he passes by his table in the dining area. Them lingering for far longer than usual, until a voice breaks from their moment to tell Sweets to get off Travis' lap and back to work. It would have usually ended there. It should have. Impulse control would have kicked in and let him go. Stubbornness would have not allowed him to dare do something that could call for Sweets making fun of him for it later. Neither was a factor when Travis immediately grabbed at his arm and prevented him from leaving. Longing for something far more than just his company.

Perhaps it was there where his wall broke down. Or perhaps it was when they both land in the storage area of the cafe, purposely choosing the darkest corner they manage to register before they both lose themselves. Sighs that escape him are quickly muffled when he leans down to meet his lips once more. Sweets' wrists were pinned against the wall, his grip so tight that despite the high he was getting he starts to get concerned. He pulls away, noting the noise of displeasure that came from him. The corners of his lips rise ever so slightly, a move so subtle that only someone as perceptive as Sweets was able to pick up. 

He gives an incredibly gentle kiss on his cheek as he moves closer to his ear. Murmuring, he asks him if he's alright, relaxing only when he was given the reassurance that he was. It gave him a reason to continue his tight hold, he knows if he falters even briefly his hands will lower and mess with the uniform Sweets was wearing. If that were to happen that would be an immediate death sentence for him. 

Instead he continues with the pepper of short kisses, lowering towards his jawline. He felt Sweets' head lift a bit so he could continue on to his neck, taking the invitation as they grew harder in pressure. He felt the other shiver, eliciting a hum from Travis as he shifted to suck on a spot on his skin to leave a mark. In a way he was holding the reins this time. A rarity of its own right, and one he knew would not last long. Sweets had made it clear many times before that he would be the one in control. Not something that Travis himself would ever complain about, if all else it simply made him more attracted to him, but his pride often refused to give in and allow it so easily. Similar to his stubbornness, where he does not where to put a stop to it until something else does. It fought against Sweets' own need, no matter how many times it would lose in the end. 

He caught the other squirming, his leg situated between Travis' own. He attempts to ignore it, not wanting to show Sweets that he was starting to get to him. Though it absolutely did not last long when he felt his knee move dangerously close upward. He sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth, a groan releasing from the back of his throat. Agitated. He pauses on the kisses along his neck, the next time his lips part he bites down on his skin. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to leave a noticeable bruise. He realizes then that his body was shaking, anticipation craving for something that they frustratingly can not have. He straightens up so he can rest his forehead against Sweets', breathing heavily against his lips. Hearing the other giggle earned him a glare, mumbling a curse under his breath as he shifts to press a gentle kiss on the other's forehead. He can not fathom the way he was acting right now. Had he fully registered any of it he very well believed he would be hating himself for being weak in the knees over Sweets. Sighing, he focuses on the way the other moves his head, confused at first. Body freezing when he heard the claim whispered in his ear. 

He groans again, though less frustrated and more genuinely annoyed. "God damn it." He curses under his breath, using all his might to not slam Sweets' hands against the wall again because he did not want to risk hurting him. He moves his body closer to his, deepening the harsher kiss. Heavy breaths shared between them that turn to whimpers as heat spreads from his stomach to his chest. Moments where his lips part he can feel Sweets' tongue slip in, a shiver traveling down his spine. It was enough for his hold to start to falter. He can feel Sweets' smirk through the kiss and it is driving him mad. 

"I hate you so damn much." He rasps out once they break away. Not something people would usually say during these moments he realizes, but his partner knows he wasn't serious. Despite his words there was an undeniable softness in his eyes, an expression so loving that it was only ever reserved for when the both of them were alone. The giggle that elicits from him worsens the red blush that was already present in his flushed face. Stubbornness and the like will never be enough to hold back on the fact that he trusts him so deeply to show this side of him. 

Fingers release him one by one, sliding up the palm of his hand to slipping in the spaces inbetween the others'. He's satisfied when he feels Sweets secure the gesture, now actually holding his hands as he keeps him there. Humming to himself, he leans forward. Right before he meets his lips he stops. Risking himself to keep in charge to test how far he can go with it. He keeps eye contact, staring right at him as his voice lowers into a hushed whisper against his lips. "Then go back out there and finish your shift. Or, I'll bet they can handle themselves out there if we leave early. Either way best to not keep waiting." 

[hawkins-losers]

I think we kissed but I forgot | Robin Buckley x Harrington!Reader

Summary: Robin wakes up in her crush’s bed

Word count: 1.5k

Request: Can I get ‘’I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I’m with you.’’ with Robin?

A/N: I’ve been working on this since September...kinda forgot about it

-

Holy shit, Robin slipped as she woke up in someone else's bed – naked. Not just someone's bed, Steve's sister's bed.

Your back was turned to her, soundly sleeping on your silk pillowcase. Your side of the covers had been kicked during the night and your sleep shirt had ridden up, uncovering your butt. Robin's cheeks went hot, trying to look away but failing. It was just as nice up close than all the times she had caught a glimpse of it in the P.E. changing rooms.

Robin was trying not to freak out, but how can you not freak out when you wake up naked next to the girl you had a crush on for over two years?

She'll forever remember the way you had tapped her shoulder in English class and sweetly asked if you could borrow a pen from her. The moment had been rom-com-esque, but Robin never had the guts to make a move or talk to you outside that class, too scared you would make fun of her or reject her – which sounded terrifying for a closeted band girl who has a hard time making friends.

Now that she had become best friends with Steve, you by default snaked your way into her life. Robin couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing. On one hand, she got to see you and talk to you in less anxiety inducing situations – like school. It also increased the possibilities of making a total fool of herself in front of you.

The odds turned in her favor because you took a liking into her. All of your secret moments in a crowded room were engraved in Robin's mind. The many fits of laughter and inside jokes she and you shared. Every time her name would fall from your tongue, everything would just stop. And when you tucked her hair behind her ear the other night, Robin combusted.

She was falling so deep and fast for you, which was making this confusing wake up so much more difficult for her.

How did she end up in that situation? It wasn't in Robin's habits to wake up in someone else's bed with barely any memories from the previous night. Perhaps it was the beer she had last night?

''Don't think too hard, it'll make your hangover worse.''

Your voice snapped Robin out of her mind, having not realized you were awake. Her eyes went into panic mode and she pulled the comforter over her bare chest, feeling body-shy. At least her panties were still on, shielding her intimate part.

There was a lazy smile on your face as you looked at her, the sunlight turning her shoulder golden. ''Good morning, beautiful.''

Robin's cheeks turned red, fighting a smile. No one had ever called her that.

Instead of saying 'good morning too', Robin's mouth began word-vomiting – and it wouldn't stop. ''I don't think morning is the appropriate term of time to be using as it's almost noon and noon is not part of morning. Not in that sense. It's part of lunch, but we can't say 'good lunch' because that's phonically wrong and only to be used when someone is going on lunch break or to get lunch-''

A soft laugh spilled from your lips, listening to her nervous rambling. ''What should I say, then?'' you asked, staring up into her blue eyes.

''I-I don't know...'' she stammered, a little tongue tied from your shameless flirting and the way you were looking at her.

''Are you getting all shy on me?'' You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping on your face. ''You weren't so shy last night when you were dancing on tables – that's where you lost your shirt.''

Sheer horror flashed in Robin's eyes. Oh god. This was worse than she thought... Dancing on tables and stripping was I-want-to-cralw-in-a-hole-and-die type of embarrassing. It's the kind of thing that earns you an ascend to being the main subject of town gossip for months.

You nudged your knee against hers, grinning. ''I'm joking, babe.''

The term of endearment sent a kaleidoscope in Robin's stomach. This was superior to 'beautiful' in her books. She wanted to scream into a pillow.

Instead, she wacked you in the face with it for making her think she had made a fool of herself last night. On a positive note, she won't have to explain to her mother why people are calling her 'sugar-tits' in the street.

You broke into laughter as the pillow hit you, catching it and tugging on it, causing Robin to lose balance and topple on top of you. The harsh movement had made her hair fall in her face. You reached out and brushed them off of her eyes, making eye contact as you did.

''You did, however, kiss me after I drunkenly serenaded you with Madonna's Crazy for You.''

''I kissed you?'' It sounded almost impossible.

You nodded, ghosting your fingers up and down Robin's ribcage, reminding her that she was still very naked now that she wasn't holding the comforter and that you could see her tits in all their glory. You didn't pay them any attention though.

''It was a very nice kiss.'' You glanced down at her lips, then back to her eyes, dying to taste her again.

Robin didn't remember – unfortunately.

''How- Did we..?'' She felt timid to ask, but she needed to know.

You shook your head, sensing Robin's train of thoughts. ''We didn't do anything.''

She breathed a sigh of relief. She already did not remember your first kiss, she didn't want to also not remember your first time. That would've been an utter bummer – and very sad.

''Just some making out and heavy petting,'' you continued, dragging your finger over her freckled thigh up to her knee, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. She was so reactive to your touch. ''You even made your mark on me.'' You pulled at the collar of your shirt, revealing a small hickey.

Robin's cheeks turned red. She wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Her drunk-self was more daring – wilder – than sober Robin. ''I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mark you like that. I don't even know how to give hickeys! I don't know what took me, I'm never drinking again, I-''

You put a finger over her lips to silence her rambling and shook your head. ''Don't apologize. I like it...a lot.''

''You do?''

You nodded, hooking the finger that was on Robin's lips under her chin, tilting it and capturing her lips into a kiss.

The delicate touch alone made Robin's brain fog, completely new to this kind of affection. She had kissed some boy during a game of spin the bottle when she was eleven, but it had been a peck. This kiss was...she didn't know how to describe it. All she knew was that it invaded all her senses and she could only focus on your mouth against hers, moving slowly and tenderly.

Then, your stomach started gurgling.

You pulled back, making Robin whine at the loss of contact, wishing you had kissed her longer. ''Do you want to go down and get breakfast?'' you asked, playing with the short hair at the back of her neck.

Robin shook her head.

''Are you not hungry?''

''No. It's not that. I...''

''What is it, then?''

The sweetness in your voice made her pliant and she hated it.

''I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you. This, kissing in bed with you, feels like a dream. I've wanted this for so long. I don't want this moment to end, I don't want us to end once we walk out that door.''

Robin hated being vulnerable and talking about her feelings and emotions. It gave people material to tease her, to make fun of her. She felt a little safer with you, though. Unlike most, she knew you wouldn't use her words against her.

However, confessing something of the sort still made her nervous.

''What if I told you I'll still want to kiss you after breakfast? Would you come down for breakfast, then?'' You raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer. ''Perhaps we could come back here and cuddle.''

Robin's eyes lifted slowly, meeting yours. ''Y-yeah?''

You nodded. ''I don't have any plans today. I'm all yours – if you want me.''

''I want you. I mean, not like that. Well, maybe like that, but I don't think I'm ready for sex yet and-'' You chuckled at her rambling. Robin stopped, realizing you had caught what she meant and she could shut up now. ''Breakfast. Let's go make breakfast. But first, can I borrow some clothes? Steve and I are best friends, but I don't feel comfortable being naked in his presence.''

When you and Robin came down for breakfast, Steve was in the kitchen with a terrible bed head, emptying cans of beers from last night into the sink. He greeted you both, noticing but kindly not pointing out that Robin was wearing a shirt that wasn't hers and that she had slept over – not in the guest room.

-

Taglist: @broadway-or-noway @violetsleftfist @thelaststraw3  @cursedandromedablack  @Slashersimpfor  @savagejane1   @wh0reforbucknasty   @eddiemunson-slut   @slvdsjjk  @hehehehannahthings  @dreamdancers-world  @eddiemunsonbby  @notbeforelong  @lexi-2004 @violetrainbow412-blog  @tatespillows  @alwayslexii  @lilygreennn   @milkiane  @imahomeslice  @bunnygrl16 @cwritesforfun @marauders3rawh0re  @your-mom21 @parkersmyth @voguesir @milkiane @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @lilygreennn @alexxavicry @charlie-chick  @wandamaximoffs-deadchild  @horrorstreet  @rmeddar123  @pastel-abyss-x @lil-tracys  @luvmybbies  @chloepricesgrafitimarker  @inluvweddiemunson @i-like-trains @kittenfrostt @simp-for-slasher @m-rae23 @kenzi-woycehoski @amberputh  @sea040561

Robin Buckley taglist: @uhidklol-26 @prettyplant0   @ran-rap   @eddiemvunsongf @batorchids222  @scarlet-kazuha  @saphmoth  @uhidklol-26  @you-makeme-crazier-blog  @spongebob-in-the-upsidedown  @swiftbyul  @xenon54xe  @tribute-101  @starstruckspring  @whyamihere2673  @moonlight-imagines  @p40l44 @moonlight-imagines   @ofherscarlettwitchways  @pastelbabygirl19 @eddiemunsonbby  @bitterbyfletcher @i-could-be-lonely-with-you @chrisxevans-seb @robinbuckleyluvr @lol-lol—idk @satinselenite  @missmaxmayfield  @soph69420world @nancewheelersworld  @nluvwitheddiemunson @psychoticauthor @amelies-a-simp  @stephylovesmayahawke    @ilovetaylorswift1 @stormyparker @thechoiceslookgrimm @yourfavdummy @amberputh  @jonathanbyersbbg @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @eddiescvmslvt

[animatedrapture]

"VORFREUDE."

Summary: Sakusa thinks of you as his vorfreude, his intense anticipation from imagining future pleasures. He swears it's not mere delusions.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x F!Reader / slight Komori Motoya x Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Genre & Content Warnings: Slight angst. NSFW. Dark content. Yandere behavior. Porn with Plot. Incel/Bully!Sakusa. Virgin!Reader. Abuse. Non-con. Blackmail. Coercion. Misogyny. Slut-shaming. Slight manipulation and mindbreak. Fingering. Corruption. Defloration. Degradation. Vaginal penetration. Creampie.

Notes: Thank you soooo much to the lovely anon who commissioned this! Took a lot longer than it should've cause academics kept cutting in & joint with my anxiety. But yeah, thank you so much :') Thank you Faiwy for the final beta !! <3

If you're thinking about commissioning me, please refer to this post.

You’re a constant, Sakusa thinks.

For as long as he can remember, you’ve been following him and Komori like a lost puppy—whenever they were, you were sure to be there. He can’t think far back enough to remember when it started, but you were insignia of constancy, that was all Sakusa knew.

He listens intently while you talk to Komori from beside him, voice low and stumbling over your words every so often—he knows you're going out of your way to avoid saying something he could use to pull you apart with, piece by piece like a frail little toy.

"How did the test from yesterday go?" Komori questions you, right as your trio made it to the cafeteria.

Your easy-going smile falters at the mention of it. Sakusa already knows the answer. He shares that class with you, after all. He had the front row seat to see your face flushed with humiliation and how rigid your body grew when the professor told you Sakusa would be tutoring you.

Reminding him that out of everything about you, the way you wore your heart on your sleeve is something that insistently rubbed him the wrong way.

First, because he starts thinking about how easy you make it for people to take advantage of you; it makes his blood boil. Then, he starts thinking about every reaction he could get out of you, like how you'd look from beneath him as he used your body the way you wanted him to.

Because you do, don't you? Why else would you go out of your way to adjust to his habits? To carry around your personal sanitizer and wipes, always making sure the space you were in with them was clean.

Nothing else could explain how you strung along with them like loose thread.

It tugs at the heart beneath his ribcage—but whenever he sees you give all your attention to Komori, the betrayal sinks in, and he's reminded what kind of a woman you are.

A whore.

As you laughed nervously, taking a seat across from them, Sakusa wonders if you're having fun, wonders if for a moment you're riddled with guilt as you flirt with his cousin and him at the same time, in the same breath.

"N-no, it didn't turn out very well," you admit in between stutters, embarrassment creeping back in.

Komori frowns empathetically, "I could help you, you know—"

The sparkle in your eyes is quick to appear. God, you're so cunning. It makes Sakusa consider that maybe you failed the test on purpose, thinking this would happen—but that would be giving you more credit than due. You're just a dumb little girl.

"I'm already tutoring them," Sakusa interrupts, and he's unsure whether to be delighted or angered at the way your face falls sullen.

"O-oh right, but—but I'd love to get your help, Motoya-kun—"

The scoff Sakusa lets out is loud, loud enough to make you wince. "You're dumb enough as it is, you don't need distractions," his words come slicing like knife. You sink in your seat.

Komori laughs awkwardly, giving you a smile—sheepish and apologetic—he's so kind, he's always so kind.

Sometimes you wonder how they're actually cousins; until you're reminded that Sakusa hadn't always been this mean to you. He had always been cautious, but he wasn't ever mean like he was out to get you at every ragged edge.

Somehow, though, the closer you got to him—past his defenses and indifference towards you—the meaner he's gotten.

You were like a moth to a flame, not in the sense that you were attracted to its light, but more so like being punished with burn after burn the closer you got.

But your feelings for Komori begged you at every instance to swallow the humiliation down, at each of Sakusa’s degrading remarks.

You take out your packed bento, wiping at the table with wipes before placing it down, the cousins moving to do the same out of adapted habit, until you notice Komori digging in his bag, eyebrows furrowed like he's confused.

"Motoya-kun? What's wrong?"

He turns to you, scratching at the back of his head, "I think I forgot my sanitizer."

You're quick on your hands, offering him yours without missing a beat and Sakusa's reminded of why he even likes you at all.

You were persistent with being able to stick around them. He thought that was remarkable. That you'd never been freaked out by his habits, you respected his space—something he couldn't say with the people who pushed and disregarded his boundaries. That instead of forcing him to adjust to you, you went out of your way for him to be comfortable with you around.

And he's flattered, really. He doesn't have to wonder if he had a chance with you because surely, he does.

Since he's so nice—nicer than a whore like you deserves, he'll let you know your feelings are reciprocated, then he'll fuck you, because surely, that's what you want… Right?

Then maybe, when you're finally his girlfriend, he can start training you to stop being such a flirty slut, that you belong only to him and that you’re nothing but his property.

But for now, he can settle with the warmth in his chest as he notices all the ways you try to get his attention.

Being with Sakusa is hard, even with Komori around, it was nerve wracking. Conversations with him weren't any easier, if anything, they were more dreadful.

When you ask Sakusa about tutoring you, you do it over lunch just so you avoid having to walk up to him alone. His answer is curt when he tells you to come over tomorrow, and that he’ll pick you up from your place; because you can try all you want to outsmart him, but he’d always catch on.

Because Sakusa was smart, and you were just you.

After lunch, you feel nothing but the dread bubbling in the pit of your stomach—churning and thrashing—because no matter how hard you try to push it down, the fact is that you’re actually scared of him.

Scared of the nitpicking he'll scrutinize you with—the way you sat, the way you looked at him, the way you trembled in his presence alone. You start thinking of what to wear, because even something as little as that can put him off—always commenting about how short your skirt is, how you're showing too much skin, how you're probably doing it on purpose.

But it's nothing you're not used to anymore.

So you tug on your fear, push it into a corner, and you tell yourself that Sakusa is mean, and condescending, and harsh, but he wouldn’t hurt you. You pick yourself up from the corner of your mind, and you repeat in your head like a mantra. Sakusa wouldn’t hurt you.

The ring of the bell breaks you out of your reverie. It reminds you that the day has almost ended, and that it felt like a blink faster than it should’ve been. Still, you pull on your things, gathering them to leave the classroom slowly emptying out.

You make a small sound of surprise when your eyes dart over to the door, where Komori stood, an anxious smile on his lips. He looks like he's been waiting for you, making your heart hammer against your chest like it wants to leap out.

Face-flushed and giddy, you walk towards him.

“Hey, Motoya-kun. What’s up?” You smile, all sweet and bright-eyed. From the pit of Komori’s stomach, something flutters. You only ever look like this when your eyes are on him; he thinks he wants to keep it to himself.

He brings a hand up to his hair, lightly scratching at the back of his head with a nervous smile, and it’s awkward in an adorable sort of way. He’s walking beside you along the corridor, it’s slow and the bit of silence between you is calm.

“Ah, well…” He starts, gaze flickering to the floor and back to you indecisively, “I was wondering if I could ask you to the newly opened café tomorrow. A-after you study with Sakusa-kun, of course,” He stutters a bit, offering you a boyish grin.

It so nearly pulls a squeak out of you, surprised in the most love struck sort of way. Your heart beats out of your chest unlike the way Sakusa makes you feel.

Your heart hammers out of fear of him—but with Komori, it's nothing but pleasant and warm and intoxicating.

Your smile is instantaneous; it comforts Komori as your lips part.

"I'd love to," you answer him softly, though an octave higher.

Sakusa finds you both like this, shyly smiling at each other like lovesick doves. There's nothing pure about you, you shouldn't be smiling that way. Especially not at the face of his cousin.

"Oi," he calls out, even through the face mask, his annoyance seeps into your skin and makes you feel small.

The blood that had rushed to your cheeks dries you pale at the glare he gives you.

"Coach is looking for you, Komori," he follows, yet never taking his eyes off of you.

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N!"

Sakusa takes another step closer to you the moment Komori's out of sight. Your grip on your bag tightening, instinctively taking a step backwards.

The action alone makes him practically sneer with you cowering in response.

"Disgusting," he mutters, brimming with venom. "There's nothing I hate more than girls who throw themselves at any guy they see."

Maybe it's the sheer malice in his voice, or the way your eyes catch how his hand moves up—but you flinch, like expecting a hit to come across your cheek.

The pain never comes and when your eyelids flutter open, you're met with hard eyes the color of obsidian yet gleaming with a newfound resolve despite his furrowed eyebrows that suggested hitting you was far from the origin of his intentions.

Without a word, Sakusa walks away from you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.

You let your body slump against the wall. His eyes burn in the back of your head, almost like they’re warning you.

Right before you head to bed, your phone chimes once, then twice and it’s bittersweet. One from Komori, telling you he’s excited to see you tomorrow, and one from Sakusa—not beating around the bush, it says nothing but ‘9 AM.’

It’s firm and unyielding. Even as your head hits the pillow, forcing your eyes shut, sleep doesn’t come easy—not even at the thought of seeing Komori on a date.

It’s not the sunlight peeking in between your curtains that wake you, nor the sound of birds chirping outside your window. Instead, it’s the ache in your body acting like a bad omen. Nevertheless, you drag your body out of bed.

Your stomach churns but you get ready for the day.

You think the next hour couldn’t come any quicker, because you’re fidgeting on the balls of your feet and somehow, there’s goosebumps rising against your bare skin.

Your phone blinks back at you with a minute before nine o’clock but you already hear the knock on your door. Your breathing halts even as you move hurriedly to open it—and even when the air hits you as you find Sakusa on your doorstep.

You feel his eyes wander, from the very top of your head, down to your feet, and he mutters, “You look nice today.”

The blush that creeps on your cheeks is only natural. Compliments in any form that came from Sakusa were hard to come by—only because they were compliments in the most genuine, honest of ways.

Sakusa is mean, and if you were more honest with yourself, he’s a bully. But Sakusa, mean or not, is still Komori’s cousin; so you give him a smile, palms going clammy.

“Thank you, Sakusa-kun…” You trail off, hesitating on your next words, “You look nice today, too.”

And he does. The dark color of his clothes complimented his pale skin and dark, curly hair, and despite being covered by the mask, his pristine beauty seems to gleam through. Even seemingly unfazed, his gaze on you softens by a fraction.

As abrupt as it appeared, he’s already turning away, “Hurry up,” he quips, but his voice is softer because you look nice today were words that confessed his truest feelings—the ones that reminded him he’s so in love with you and that you’re the cause of warmth in chest.

Even when you strut around trying to get Komori to like you, Sakusa doesn’t attempt to deny the feelings he harbored, because you look nice today, too should mean something, shouldn’t it?

You know you’re dressed up for your date with Komori, but Sakusa doesn’t know that; so in that moment, he appreciates you. For once, there isn't one insult that lingers in his tongue or even in his head as he walks slowly.

Sakusa is nice today, you note as he keys the lock to his place. He had awkwardly placed his hand on the small of your back on the short walk it took from your place to his, guiding you along the sidewalk.

You've only been to his place once or twice, both times were with Komori, so you weren't familiar with the directions. The walk was silent, and in his silence, you found a reason to relax—just enough to make you think that this might go well.

Despite all awkwardness, Sakusa is forward. Seeing you sat on his couch so comfortably, the skirt of your dress riding up slightly, does nothing to hold back his urge to keep his hands on you.

It's a good thing he doesn't have to keep his hands to himself now, right? Since you like him so much, you'd let him fuck you now… Right?

Sakusa's movements are sly, that's why you don't question how he walks closer towards you, sitting so, so close to you—that's why you choke on the lump in your throat when his hand shoots out to grab you by the wrist, pulls you in, then presses his lips on yours.

The second that passes is only because you couldn't wrap your head around Sakusa—lips pressed against yours and body so close.

But the next second, you're pushing him off roughly enough to stop him and he's looking at you confused.

"Sakusa-kun, I think you misunderstood—I like, I like Motoya-kun, I didn't mean to—this is—" you're trampling over your words, looking at him with panicked eyes.

Sakusa mutes out the sound of your voice, all he can hear is the beating in his chest and the ache of it—the sound of his heart dropping to his stomach. He should’ve known.

All the softness in his eyes are gone. His hand, still wrapped around your wrist, gripping tighter and tighter; your heart skipping obnoxiously against your chest. Something about the way he's looking at you now petrifies you.

His silence feels deadlier than his destructive words, deadlier when you wince at his grip, whimpering, "Sakusa, you're hurting me—please," and still, he doesn't let up.

Not when he's roughly tugging you from the couch, taking your arm with a bruising grip, then he's hauling you somewhere. You thrash, panicked pleas calling out to him and apologies he doesn't deserve but you offer him anyway. All your protests are rewarded when he halts, turning to you without a hint of remorse, pushing you to the floor—his foot comes to your side, kicking you with a force that knocks the breath out of your lungs.

Bile is rising up your throat, coughing and arms shooting to your stomach to protect yourself. Scared feels too small of a word to describe the feeling that looms over you as he takes your arm again, dragging your curled up body.

Sakusa shoves you inside a room, even as you flail around and beg for help, his face remains impassive; whatever force you’re putting in the way you try to break free from his hold is futile. Of course he’s stronger. Of course, but you can’t possibly accept this, can you?

You made Sakusa yearn—disgustingly grapple on his feelings so needlessly, and nothing, he thinks, could be more unforgivable.

So he secures you on the bed, bound and within his claws, for you to take responsibility for the yearning you've planted inside of him.

"S-Sakusa, please," your begging sounds like a whimper. "I-I won't tell anyone! N-not even Motoya-ku—!"

You hear ringing in your ears before feeling the sting across your cheek. From inside your mouth, you can taste metal.

"You won't tell anyone either way," he mutters apathetically, like the idea of you telling anyone isn't a threat, "No one would believe you…"

He pauses, gaze on you hardening for a second, "You don't want Komori finding out you only got close to him because you wanted me, right?"

The sound of disbelief that escapes you is small, even the wide-eyed betrayal that flashes in your eyes does nothing to make him even pity you.

"You–I, I didn't—"

At your stuttering, Sakusa clicks his tongue, "You're such a dumb girl you don't even know what you want."

"That's not true, Sakusa—"

He glares down on you. The bed dips, bracketing your body between his knees, hovering over you, then leaning forward. His hands move slowly as if caressing you before grabbing your hair with a stinging tug.

The fear pooling your eyes only makes him even angrier.

"I hate that face," he grits out, "Always looking at me all scared, then you look at Komori like a shy innocent bitch, it pisses me off."

Pretty as you are, he lands another hit across your cheek—hard enough that you can feel a cut on your cheek trickling down with blood, the side of your ear going deaf. You’re not sure anymore if it was a slap or a punch—all that you know is that it hurts. Your vision is blurred when you open your eyes, but even through them, the insanely expressionless eyes of Sakusa are clear.

It dawns on Sakusa that you wouldn’t date him. Of course you wouldn’t. Sluts like you go for guys like Komori—so he’d just have to take you by force, make you date him by force, make you love him by force.

Besides, you look prettier forced, he observes. Your face tear-stained and bloody makes his cock throb in his pants. With your body weak underneath him, so helpless that it disgusts him and fuels him with desire all at once.

Something about your weakness, the innocence that spills from you contradicting his firm idea that you’re a dirty whore makes him livid. He pictures you painted with bruises and cuts, the image sending a shiver down his spine. Clenched fists pull back, only to land on your sides, on the same places he kicked you.

What makes you feel sick at the stomach more than the abuse he inflicts on you is the way Sakusa’s movements lack hesitation as his hands travel to your bare thighs.

"W-what are you doing?”

It's disgusting. Women like you are disgusting. You lead him on just so you can take advantage of his feelings like this—that even if he knew better, he'd still soften up for you.

It's you who lured him into this, he almost sneers at the thought. You were truly vile, and yet he loves you all the same—wants you all to himself all the same.

"Omi?' You breathe, frightened. The nickname falls affectionately, though, putting all your hope into it, wishing it would tug on his heart enough for him to let you go.

“Let’s talk about this, Omi? Please?” You cry, searching for his eyes—the ones trained on your thighs as he glides his hands against them, your dress bunched up to your hips revealing your baby pink panties. Your sobs only grow louder as he goes further up, going on as if he’s in a trance where he can’t hear you groveling at him to stop.

Strong, calloused hands stop at the band of your panties, fingers hooking, and only then does he look back up at you. Dark eyes drown you as he tugs them down torturously slow, exposing you to him in your most vulnerable state.

The same second you attempt to force your legs shut, comes a biting pain on the inside of your thighs, instantly blooming his handprint at the force. Your mouth opens to wail at the pain, but it’s the same wail that Sakusa swallows as he brings his lips to yours with a kiss so treacherously passionate.

Sakusa pulls away quickly though, eyeing your bare cunt, he brings his fingers to your slit, experimentally rubbing up and down and your response is immediate, somehow. Your slick gathers on his fingers, body squirming from beneath him.

“K-Kiyoomi, it feels weird—stop, please,” yet your hips buck into his fingers as he prods at your tight hole, “Don’t—Not there—N-no one has touched—”

He lifts an eyebrow, “You’re a virgin?” His question sounding more of a comment, because the hesitant nod you give him is almost needless when you hiss at the intrusion of his digit pushing inside of you; your walls clamping down on it, body tensing, he brings a thumb to your clit, circling with enough pressure to make it feel good.

And it’s wrong. So wrong, but it feels good because you’re moaning against your will, whimpering at the curl of his finger and at the additional finger he’s slowly sinking into you.

The stretch is uncomfortable and foreign. Nothing is in Sakusa’s mind but at the thought of you absolutely untouched, absolutely all for him to ruin. Your body instinctively leaning to his, submitting to his ministrations—fingers scissoring and pushing in and out of your pussy, the sound of your slick echoing in your ears as if to taunt you, but your legs are trembling, your gasps are broken and there’s a pressure in your pelvis about to snap.

“You’re so filthy,” he mutters, but he looks at you like you’re the farthest thing from filthy, and his comment is exactly what makes you break, eyes rolling to the back of your skull and cunt creaming around his fingers pathetically.

You feel so dirty, especially at the sound of your slick as he pulls his fingers out and shoves them inside your mouth—the taste of you tainting your tongue. Shaking your head profusely, you beg him with your eyes, “No more—please, I don’t want this.” you weep, muffled.

“Suck,” he commands, but your defiance is clear before you even shake your head, so he pushes his fingers down further, choking you until you gag and find it hard to breathe.

“Suck,” he repeats, and you relent.

Watching you suck messily on his fingers, drool and tears disheveling you, dried blood sticking to your skin, he frees his twitching cock out of its constraints.

Though hazy, your eyes catch it, the thickness of his cock—hard and flushed at the tip—your hands tugging at your restraints feebly making you panic and choke on his fingers, nearly biting down on them.

He’s quick to pull them out, glaring down at you with dark eyes, jaw ticking as his hands curl into fists; knowing what’s to come doesn’t prepare you any more at the excruciating pain of his abuse, even more so at his length pressing against your wet folds—cockhead nudging your puffy clit and making your cunt drool on him.

Both hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them to your chest. The pain on your face numbs at the sensation of him prodding on your entrance, ripping you apart and increasing the pain—your head throbs as he stretches your cunt with his fat cock, barely giving you time to adjust as he starts to move slowly despite your tense walls barely allowing him.

He curses as he ruts into you, bathing in your cries and moans, violating and invading the entirety of you. The pleasure of feeling you and having you just like this seeps into his bones, turning his languid thrusts more desperate.

“You make desperation look so pretty,” he groans, “You’re making such a mess, you like being forced like this?”

He insults you, but you’re everything he always wanted and more—the taste of your skin as he sucks marks onto your neck as if you were his to own, the clenching and humiliating sound of your cunt squelching as he pounds into you and grunts against your skin. His cock throbs inside you and drags along your velvety walls deliciously; all you can think is that you hate this.

Pressure, pain, the drowning pleasure of Sakusa all over you and inside you don’t allow you to retreat to the back of your head and forget. Not with the burning euphoria building up in your stomach or the moan that slips from your lips as Sakusa brings one of your legs down, bringing his hand to your breasts and thumb swiping around your sensitive nipples.

“O-Omi, please,” you sob, weak and submissive—just how you should be. Your nails dig into your palms, arms aching from your restraints. “I-I’m gonna—I think I—”

“Y-you really are a whore,” he spits, voice strained yet patronizing, still. “Do it, then. Cum on my cock.”

His hand moves in between your thighs, fingers pressing and rubbing circles on your clit as you cry out, tight walls clamping down on him and stuttering his already sloppy thrusts, your arousal running down his length and down to his heavy balls slapping against your ass.

Your moans come out as squeals of his name, your back arching and breath catching in your throat, vision going white as he continues to fuck into you.

His breathing is ragged, moving to bury his face into the crook of your neck in an odd show of affection, your swollen cunt pulsating around his cock as he suddenly stills, his low groan vibrating against your skin as he empties inside you.

You want to cry—but nothing comes out, all you can feel is the bruises on your skin, Sakusa’s cock buried deep inside you and his cum leaking from your abused hole, the stickiness and the sweat.

Maybe Sakusa’s right. Maybe you are disgusting, because as he peels himself from you, thinking it’s all over—Sakusa doesn’t undo the ties keeping you on the bed.

He reaches towards the bedside table, grabbing his phone. The sound of the shutter going off once, twice, over and over with the camera directed at you pulls your soul out of you.

“Omi—?” Your question remains a lump in your throat, but Sakusa is smart. He doesn’t need to hear your question.

“You’re my girlfriend now…” He mutters carelessly, “but I’m sure you don’t want Komori to see how you like to be fucked, right?”

[bellshells]

Do Me No Wrong Part Two

Hi friends. Thank you for baring with me whilst I went through it. I hope you enjoy part two, part three coming this week. Love you all millions. 

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader x Remus Lupin Warnings: Language, Smut, Angst(?), Suggested Polyamorous Themes, Manipulation

    Remus listened intently to you. He sat silently, his arms folded over his chest, his lips drawn into a thin line. He betrayed no other emotion that that. After you had finished, and the weight of the words had left your mouth, all that remained was a sour taste as Severus’ nonplussed face danced across your memory. He stayed quiet still, the only sound the gentle ticking of the clock nestled upon your mantle. 

   After a while, when neither of you spoke, you rose solemnly and made your way into bed. You didn’t bother to remove your clothes, you supposed in a way, you were still in shock. Even after all these years, the adult you now were, there was nothing like the rejection of a boy to knock you down a peg or two. You hated yourself for it, the way men affected you. It did not align itself with your ideals as a grown woman and yet- as you stared up into the dark draped canopy of your bed, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and dejection, you were reminded all too well of your contradictions. Remus stayed a while. Or so it seemed at least. You were innately aware of his presence; his smell, the light hypnotic tapping of his fingers against the leather of the chair, even as you willed your eyes to remain shut. 

   You must have fallen asleep, as when you awoke to the dim-blue haze of a dawn about the break, the fire was long dead and your chamber was empty. What you found interesting was that your feet, now bare were tangled in the soft bedding were warm. Your body too, now just in your muggle dress, tights discarded, but strewn neatly atop of the wardrobe door. Remus must have half undressed you. You wondered, which concerned you, whether Remus had enjoyed the feel of your skin under his hands. Or rather, was he embarrassed or even repulsed as he knew that not even an hour prior you had allowed Severus Snape to bury himself inside you. Could he smell Severus on you still, as he exposed the lower half of your body? Did it arouse him? Did it disgust him? There was no use to ponder it, you decided. Any chance of knowing Remus intimately had evaporated the minute you had accepted Severus’ invitation, you knew that, deep down. Yet, as the ache nestled in the pit of your stomach; (the all too familiar reminder of the fucking you had received from a man who nonchalantly brushed you off) you buried your face into the pillow and groaned. What a mess you had in front of you, sickeningly though, it was one of your own design. So, whilst you wished desperately for someone else to blame, you knew there wasn’t anybody. Unfortunately, this was all on you. You felt the warmth of the early morning sun tickle the backs of your thighs as the dawn gave promise of clear skies. If nothing else, a little sunshine might melt some of the sheer filth of the previous night and you hoped, it might assuage some of the guilt too. 

    Breakfast was a solemn affair that morning. You sat firmly between Pomona and Minerva, eyes glued to your plate, ignoring the pressing questions from the two witches with a steadfastness almost unseen from you. You didn’t think it was appropriate to tell them of your rendezvous with Severus, or strangely Remus had reacted either. Instead, you sat in thorny silence, waiting for the earliest possible moment to escape the table. Away from the two men sat at opposite ends of the table, neither of which looked in your direction, you admitted to yourself caused a slight twinge of pain in your chest. As soon as your found yourself with a free moment, which incidentally didn’t appear until after dinner, you decided to walk up to the lake where Remus had taken you. The night was dark and crisp, and the sky was almost bursting with stars. You had often wondered when you were a student whether the sky around Hogwarts was enchanted to reveal stars, planets and galaxies not normally visible to the naked eye. In all your years, in all your numerous travels, there had never been a sight as beautiful as the Hogwarts sky at night. From where you sat, huddled all scarfs and heavy cloak, the fir trees still proud and green soared high into the horizon. As if the tips of them, more often found in a home adorned with trinkets, angels and stars now found themselves with stars of their very own as they reached into the night sky. 

   It was very grounding, to feel the chill of your wind in your bones, to see the exhale of your breath, little things like feeling the soft snow crunch under your boots. it was enough to remind you that you were a person. A living, breathing person, and that’s just the thing with living-breathing people- they fuck up from time to time. Yet whilst you couldn’t find it in yourself to think of what you did with Severus as a mistake, allowing the verbal vomit to surface with Remus wasn’t right. You decided to make it up to him for that, at least. 

   The next few days passed in much of the same way. You had tried to visit Remus’ quarters but were saddened to met with a locked door. It concerned you as it wasn’t like him to be unavailable, but he frequently left the castle so you tried not to dwell too much about it. You had resolved anyway, to let him seek you out when he was ready. It seemed fair.  You found the routine helped though, you found yourself thinking less of the two men who had all but consumed much of your thoughts previous to his. You found yourself looking forward to your time by the lake, the tranquillity of it, even when the weather turned foul by the end of the week. You still walked to the water and back, taking note of how the raindrops assaulted the black surface of the vast lake. One thing you were acutely aware of as you stood on the grassy bank, was the moody man you worked beneath. Who’s face had not so much had turned in your direction since that night. Not even when you had no other option than to sit beside him one night at dinner. You received nothing from him, and after a while you realised that didn’t surprise you. 

   It wasn’t until three weeks later, after Remus had reappeared and continued to keep his distance and you had resolved yourself to the idea that you had in fact lost a friend, that you noticed Minerva bemoaning how her students were stressed about the amount of work they had received in Defence Against the Dark Arts.     “That’s not like Remus,” you muttered, more to yourself really, but Minerva missed nothing.     “Oh, she speaks! We were wondering whether you had taken a vow of silence and had forgotten to tell us!” She snapped, her brow furrowed in annoyance, a look that you didn’t much care for was etched onto her wrinkled face. You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes at her remark, she was too much like an overbearing mother at times and it irked you. Thankfully though, for all involved, Minerva decided to ignore your insolence and instead decided to show pity on you. “He’s been away. Severus has taken over his lessons.”    “Oh,” you replied, surprised. “I’m sure Severus has enjoyed that.”     “I’ll say!” Pomona interjected, her cheeks rosy from the fire and the wine. She hiccupped as she pointed a finger conspiratorially down the table to where Severus sat scowling. “My poor third year ‘Puffs were fretting something chronic about the essay he’s made them write.” Minerva hummed in agreement as you shot a look over your shoulder to where the dark haired man rose from his chair. He lifted his head and his hair fell behind his shoulders, his strong features illuminated by the candlelight made him look like a renaissance painting, achingly beautiful. It was the first time you had looked directly into his face since that night, and it was like he seemed to hear the breath catch in your throat as the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly upwards. 

   It was then that you felt it, the unmistakable feeling of another person pressing into your mind. You were frozen, alarmed but not yet frightened, eyes locked with an onyx pair a few feet away. The din of the room melted into nothing and it was as if nothing and nobody else existed in that moment except you and him. You could have fought back, of course you could, Occlumency and Legilimency were skills needed as a Code Breaker and yet, you felt no need. He knew this too, you were certain. He knew that any moment you could push him out, that you could throw up walls two hundred feet high, unscalable and watertight, but you felt no need. There was just something about the sheer eroticism of the moment that stopped your breath, you knew exactly what he was looking for, so you let him find it. 

   You and he both saw you on your bed, hand pressed firmly between your legs, head thrown back in ecstasy, a memory.   You and he both saw you on his lap, the rise and fall of your body as you rode him, a memory.  You and he both saw his head between your legs, his sneer as he surfaces for breath, his mouth glistening with your arousal, a thought. You felt the pressure of his presence swell inside your mind, your body flushed as he rifled through more and more of your fantasies. Each more and more lewd than the last. It was impossible to ignore the humorous interest he projected as he brought image after illicit image to the forefront of your mind. Then, at once, a flash of discomfort as he recoiled from the image of Remus’ soft lips touching yours, a memory. Remus’ hands running over your backside as he removed your tights as you slept, his fingers lingering over your mound, a thought. You could feel him retreating, you were getting more and more of your mind back that was until, he found something that intrigued him.  Severus’ hard cock slipping between your plump lips again and again, his swollen tip leaking pearl droplets as you bounced on another’s cock, your throat tightening around his member as the other man buried deep inside you swells, a thought.    You could feel his shock as he saw Remus beneath you, his silver scarred face contorted with pleasure, Severus’ dark hair stuck to his face in a sheen of exertion. But he didn’t pull away from the thought, instead he pushed further. You both saw Severus link his arm and Remus’ neck and pull the the other man’s lips to his, as you wrapped a hand around the cock of each man.  Thought after thought, fantasy after fantasy, Severus viewed them all. He pulled out of your mind sharply, and with a great gasp of air, you returned to the moment. Pomona still muttering about her students, dinner still very much underway. Severus looked rattled and breathless, his hands were balled into fists at his side, his lips slightly parted in a sigh. With what seemed like great effort, he drew his eyes from your locked gaze and swept dramatically from the hall. 

   “Merlin,” you breathed. Your hand trembled as you reached for your goblet, the wine was tart on your tongue but you were grateful for the way it tingled down your throat. It distracted you from the intense banging in your head, it had been a long time since you had been mentally penetrated in such a way and you felt faint.     “Are you well?” Minerva asked, her hand on your shoulder felt far too heavy. You shrugged her off as kindly as you could and slid rather ungracefully from your chair, napkin on the floor and a falter in your step.     “Quite, I just- I just feel slightly- excuse me,” you muttered, pushing passed the rows of students to the empty and dimly lit corridor. Gasping for breath, you reached blindly for the stone wall, cold and firm beneath your fingers. You pressed you cheek against it, scorched skin and throbbing head and you groaned. Your eyes fluttered shut as you focused on your breathing, trying in vain to return it to normal. There wasn’t a moment before this that you could recall, that after having an intruder in your mind, you had such a visceral reaction. The only reason you could chalk it up to was that it was him...and the other...him.     “Alright? What you doing out here?”  Immediately, you opened your eyes and turned to face the voice. Remus stood with a fairly cheerful expression, hands in his pockets and sporting a brand new scar across his mouth. You found yourself at a loss for words, his stupid, beautiful face feet away and this pain in your head. “Oi, you okay?” No, you didn’t think it was.

   When you awoke by the fire, a blanket was draped around your shoulders and a footstool was charmed to hover at just the right height for your feet. A record played quietly from the player in the corner, your neck ached but the throb in your head was nothing but a dull ache.   "Morning," a voice said, you knew even with your eyes half closed that Remus would be sat with a shit eating grin plastered across his face. That warmed your heart slightly, that even in your state of indisposition, that you would be able to tell it was him a thousand times over.   "Morning," you replied, your voice was hoarse despite how little you had said. You opened your eyes fully and confirmed Remus' smarmy grin was very much there, as he reclined across the adjacent chair, his legs thrown over the arm, shoeless. His tie lay undone and hung down his chest, his shirt unbuttoned slightly revealing a whisper of thick hair. It was obvious that you were staring, you knew that, but you couldn't bring your gaze from the almost marble-like indentations of this man's clavicle. "What time is it?" You asked after a while, you couldn't suppress the yawn that arose. The blackness from the windows no indication to how late it could be. Remus chuckled and shifted to pour a cup of tea from the pot on the table.   "Half eleven," he said passing you a cup, the steam hit your face and you flinched from it. "You've been asleep for ages, I thought you'd fainted at first but Minerva reckons you just passed out from exhaustion. Or at least that's what it looked like, I suppose."   "Minerva was here?"   "Yeah, she helped me bring you here. Said you'd not been yourself at dinner, that you took a turn or something." He paused thoughtfully, a long finger pressed to his lips. "You just missed her actually, said she couldn't wait all night for you to pull yourself together." You snorted at that, and took a great sip from your tea. It warmed you through and you instantly relaxed. Remus patted his pockets and you watched with humoured interest as he produced a tatty looking piece of foil and presented it to you proudly. "Will you have some of this please?" He opened the foil to reveal two sad looking pieces of dark chocolate, you looked at him perplexed.   "Um, no thank you." You said, biting back a smile, Remus sucked in a breath and shook his head.   "It'll make you feel better. Get your sugars back up."   "Remus there's enough sugar in this tea to starch a shirt, I'm alright." Your smile faltered slightly as you noticed his face fall, rolling your eyes you reached across the expanse and took a piece and tentatively nibbled a corner of the chocolate. You fought every urge to cringe at the bitter taste of the chocolate and forced an appreciative hum, Remus seemed placated by this and settled back into his chair, a cup of his own nestled between his big hands. A comfortable silence fell between you, and you allowed your eyes to close; and enjoyed the soft music that filled the space.   "Is it Saturday tomorrow?" You asked after a while, eyes still firmly shut. Remus hummed in response and you snuck a look in his direction, he too sat with his eyes closed. Tea long forgotten, his hands clasped across his stomach. Serene and still. There was something about the picture of the man in front of you, so homely and natural that brought a lump to your throat. Oh Merlin, how much more of a mess had things become? It was almost comical at this point that as soon as you finished thinking (and lusting) over one man, the other made himself first and foremost in your mind. "I want to go to bed."  Remus opened his eyes at that and sprung quickly from his chair, his face etched with concern.   "Sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have thought-"   "Shut up, will you help me with these buttons, I haven't got the energy." You smiled sleepily as you extended your wrists to Remus, he arched an eyebrow in surprise as he eyes the many buttons at the cuffs of your sleeves. He seemed to jolt to action as his hands were soon on yours, turning your hands palm down to gain better access to your sleeves. He fumbled at first, the intricacy of the stitching seeming to perplex him. You let out a laugh, "Look, if you need to get your wand-"   "Quiet," Remus growled, his face suddenly bereft of any humour, "I don't need any help when it comes to something as banal as buttons." You pressed your lips together. After he finished one sleeve, he moved directly onto the next. The heat of his body was all encompassing from his close proximity, it was dizzying and you felt the sway of your body. Remus swiftly reached hold of your shoulders; "What's going on with you? If I didn't know any better I'd say you were getting over a curse."   "I'm fine, I just need to get into bed." You batted his arms away and turned your back to him, fingers trembling as you worked on the remaining buttons at the front of your blouse. You moved behind the screen partition you had never had a need for until this moment, and discarded the remainder of your clothing. "Can you pass me the shirt on the bed please, Remus?" You swallowed the chuckle as you heard Remus crash around on the other screen, finally a sleep shirt was flung over the top and you gratefully pulled it onto your frame. He was fully dressed when you emerged, just fixing his cloak around his shoulders. "Oh, are you leaving?" Remus seemed dumbfounded by your question, he looked with wide eyes around the room. One sofa, two chairs...one bed.   "Well, I'm too tall for the sofa, and I don't fancy my chances on the armchair." He chuckled nervously, it was so pathetic it made you swoon.   "Well, if I asked you to stay in the bed with me, would you?" You cast your eyes to the floor, embarrassed of what you were going to say. "I don't want to be alone."   "Because...you still feel poorly?" He enquired, hand half to his cloak fastening.   "Yes," you lied instantly, in reality, you knew it was because now he had come back into your life in this small probably insignificant way- in his mind anyway...you didn't want him to leave again. He stared at you for a while, one hand on his cloak, the other on his hip. You shuffled uncomfortably on the spot, you couldn't help but wring your hands as you waited for him to say something, anything. He nodded his head eventually, after what felt like an eternity. "Yeah?" You questioned, motioning towards the bed.   "Yeah." He said with a sniff, removing his cloak and laying it gently on the back of the chair. He moved stiffly over to where you waited, you reached up tentatively and removed his tie from around his neck. He ducked his head forward slightly and followed your movements, your fingers graced the neckline of his shirt but his hands were over yours instantly.   "No. Don't."   "I'm sorry," you whispered, "I just wanted to be comfortable." And you did, but perhaps you were being selfish, too. Maybe Remus didn't want to stay with you, maybe Remus was actually uncomfortable after all? "Do you...do you want t-"   "I'll stay with you, fuck, I'll hold you if you want, but...I can't, I won't-"   "Shh." You nodded, and began to unbutton his shirt. What you didn't anticipate was how Remus shrunk into himself, as you slid the fabric over his shoulders and down his arms. There wasn't an inch of his skin that was visible outside of the white vest he wore that wasn't littered with scars. The pink and purple jagged lines in intricate patterns like the constellations of stars. You ran a finger lightly across a particularly large one on his broad shoulder, Remus shuddered at the touch, his eyes fixed onto your concerned expression. "Who am I beating up?" You breathed, and Remus chuckled lightly.   "The moon." He answered in a small voice, a sad smile on his face. You lifted your gaze to his, a realisation like no other about who Remus was- what Remus was. Nothing had made more devastating sense, and your heart ached.   "You?"   "Me." He answered. "I'm a-"   "Shh. It doesn't matter."   "You won't tell?" You shook your head. Who could you tell? Why would you tell? This breath taking, damaged man...your friend, how could you do such a thing?   "You don't care that I'm a- that I’m dangerous?" He asked meekly, you placed your hands on his shoulders and gave them a hearty squeeze.   "Who isn't? In their own way?" You replied with a smile, "Besides, you could only hurt me one day in a month, any other man has got thirty-odd days to choose from." Remus laughed at that and exhaled, he pressed his forehead to yours. "Promise me one thing, though." You whispered.   "Hmm?"   "Don't disappear again, I missed you. I know you were probably really angry at me about...the thing with Severus but- I...you're my friend, at least I hope you are. Remus." You licked your lips. "You mean the world to me, I have to be honest about- how confused I've felt. I'm with him and I feel...and then I'm with you and I- I just..."   "Let's get you into bed," Remus said softly, his hand on your lower back. "You're talking absolute shite." You conceded to let him push you towards the canopied bed and hold open the covers for you. "No funny business." He said sternly, but his eyes betrayed a hint of a smile which you returned in kind.   "No funny business," you repeated, patting the cold sheet next to you. He swiftly unbuckled his belt and slid his trousers down his sculpted legs, the skin there painted with the same pink and silver patterns. You turned onto your side away from him and felt the bed dip under his weight, the blankets brought up around your shoulders, his arm around your stomach and his knee pushing between yours. You closed your eyes against the feeling of his warm body against yours, it felt like home somehow. You pushed back into him almost automatically, and he slapped your stomach lightly.   "Oi. What did I just say?" Remus laughed into your hair.   "Sorry, it's just an automatic response. Plus I sleep with my arse sticking out, so you're just going to have to deal with it."   "Okay." He agreed, you felt his arm slide under your pillow to wrap around your chest. His fingers splayed over your shoulder.   "Remus." You asked into the darkness and you felt him shift behind you   "Yes?"   "I'm sorry for sleeping with Severus."   "Don't be." He said, "You can't help having feelings. At least, I think that's what you were alluding too." You were satisfied with his answer and closed your eyes to sleep, when Remus cleared his throat.   "I'm sorry for being a werewolf."   "Don't be. Not much either of us can do about that, is there?"   "No, not really." He paused, you could almost hear the cogs turning in his head. "Do you really have feelings for Severus?" You weren't really sure how to answer his question, but you thought it would be best to try.   "I'm not sure. I've barely had five conversations with him. Obviously, we did what we did but-" You were reminded of his prodding of your mind, what he had seen- what you both had seen. "I don't know."   "Do you have feelings for me?" Remus asked in a whisper, like he was afraid to say it out loud.   "Ah, I'll never tell." You chuckled, but placed a kiss to his palm as you laced his fingers with yours.    You were almost asleep, so very close to the edge of sleep when Remus spoke again. You would have snapped at him, but when you heard the glee in his voice, you couldn't find in you.   "Lockheart." He announced, proudly.   "What?" You asked groggily, he moved his head so his lips hovered just above your ear.   "That's who Filch caught you with. It was Lockheart"   "Well done, Inspector Poirot. You can collect your winnings in the morning." 

[works-of-fanfiction]

Together - 90s!Graham Coxon x Reader

Summary: Graham takes care of the reader after a particularly hard couple of weeks.

Warnings: Literally none - straight up, good old-fashioned fluff.

Word Count: 2.8k

Side Note: I haven’t written since 2019 or something like that, so forgive me if this isn’t the best!

————-

Sometimes you wonder whether your job is actually worth the exhaustion - your hand comes up to turn out the office light, exactly two hours and seventeen minutes later than you’d expected. Maybe it’s too much to ask for the work day to end at your contracted time. You scoff at yourself at the sheer thought, like your managers would ever treat you like a human being.

The tube ride home feels longer than usual, and you’re completely unable to focus on the book balanced in your lap. You’d always tried to be one of those leave work at work people - ‘don’t take your work home with you’ everyone says… but it’s impossible. You were good at your job, no doubt about that, but that came with the downside of being taken advantage of. People aren’t going to do their own dirty work when the overachiever down the corridor can do it for them. Though, how could you ever refuse? Why would you risk saying ‘no’?

Swinging the apartment door open, you drop your bag onto the ground and nudge it further to the side with your foot. Your loud entrance does not go unnoticed by your droopy-eyed boyfriend sprawled on the armchair. The first thing you feel when you see him is guilt. You don’t want to be the reason he forces himself to stay awake. You don’t want to be so fragile that he feels he can’t go to bed without seeing you first to make sure you’re alright. Once he catches sight of you, a weak smile spreads across his lips as he drags himself to his feet and shuffles over to where you’re standing. You paste a fake smile onto your face, hoping you can lie and pretend you had a good day so he can finally get some sleep.

“Hey sweetheart.” Graham mumbles, holding out his arms for you to fall into. You do just that, your head sinking onto his shoulder, inhaling his scent like it’s the last chance you’ll get. He holds you tightly in the doorway, supporting your body weight as you limply cling onto him. You claw at the back of his shirt, gathering the fabric between your fingers as if he could slip away any moment and disappear. His only response to this is to squeeze you as his chin rests on your head. “Hard day?” He finally asks, separating the two of you and holding you at arms length.

You don’t want to be a burden and you’d already come home from work two nights out of five this week feeling like this. You begin to shake your head, hoping that the lie will be easier to tell if you don’t speak, but as you stare into Graham’s eyes, you know he doesn’t buy it. The look on his face is all too familiar; he can read you like a book and he knows damn well that you’re not OK. Your head shake slowly evolves into a nod, and you don’t hold back the first sob that leaves your lips. Graham immediately catches you in his grasp again, holding you as you cry into his chest. He doesn’t waste time trying to find the right words to say to you because he knows that’s not what you need. You don’t need a soppy, motivational speech or a string of “it’s okay”s. Instead, you’re comforted by the beating of Graham’s heart and the warmth from his body as he carefully steps back and begins to guide you into the living room. You stand up straight and slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers together in that perfect way that just feels right. No matter where you are, as long as your hand finds his, you know you’re safe and that everything is going to be alright.

As you go to sit down, Graham stops you and helps slide your coat off of your shoulders. You sniffle, quietly thanking him as he tosses it over the back of the armchair. You sink onto the sofa, the throw blanket from the back already slipping off and bunching up behind you. You adjust, your fingers pinching at the stray hairs sticking to your tear-stained cheeks. All you can do is stare at your feet, your eyes tracing the triangular patterns on your socks - Graham’s socks that you’d put on in a hurry that morning. The extra bit of fabric hanging off the tip of your toes makes that evident. You’re too focused on the ground beneath you to hear Graham go into the kitchen.

He boils the kettle, reaching into the very back of the cupboard to find your favourite mug - a round cream-coloured cup with a black cat’s face painted onto it, wearing a pair of red glasses. He’d bought it for you in Camden as a silly little gift, but you fell in love with it the moment you saw it and have treasured it ever since. Though you barely use it, as you can’t trust your own clumsiness and you’re too scared you’ll break it.

Graham makes your tea just the way you like it and carefully carries it into the living room. He remembers to bring the half-eaten packet of custard creams with him too. He’s not sure you’ll want them, but he usually sneakily dips one into your tea when you’re not looking so they won’t entirely go to waste. With one hand, he pushes all the clutter on the coffee table to one side, and places the cup down in front of you with the cat facing in your direction. You look up, a small smile on your face as you spot the mug. Graham squeezes through the gap between your knees and the coffee table to sit down beside you.

“That was the last teabag, so drink up.” He gently teases, pointing at the cup. A small exhale of air from your nose is all you can muster to show your amusement as you reach forward and take a slow sip. It’s perfect, and that feeling of sad happiness washes over you. You’re happy to have Graham; happy that he’s there for you and happy that he remembers your particular taste in hot drinks. Who else would know that one sugar is not enough but two is too much? Who else would measure one and a half teaspoons and make sure it’s stirred in completely?

But the sadness still remains. You’re sad that he’s making the tea to try and cheer you up; sad that he’s used the last teabag and he’s going without a drink of his own. You’re sad that he’s sat here watching you cry one time too many.

It’s silent for a while. It’s clear he’s waiting for you to speak first but you’re not sure what to say. You feel like you’ve said everything a thousand times already, and the last thing you want is to be the broken record constantly spinning in the room.

You gulp down half of your tea before putting the mug back on the table. You turn to face Graham who scoots forward, eager to be there for you and ready to listen. He sits cross-legged, his sleeves rolled down to cover his hands with just his fingertips poking out. Your own fingers pick at a stray piece of thread hanging from the hem of your shirt, wrapping it around your forefinger then unwrapping it over and over. “I really really don’t like that place, Graham.” You whisper, part of you not wanting to hear your own admission. You’d fought hard for that job and were ashamed and embarrassed that it hadn’t gone the way you’d planned. Graham nods in understanding, moving closer to you to wrap an arm around you. He pulls you into him, your head resting on his shoulder as he rubs your back lovingly.

”I know, love.” He presses a kiss to your temple, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling. Just having him beside you and feeling his touch is enough to calm the heavy beating of your heart and steady the shaking of your knees. “But hey, it’s Friday night which means tomorrow is Saturday. We have the entire weekend to do whatever we want! The entire weekend to not think about work for a single second.” He encourages, standing up and holding his hand out to you. “Come on.”

You reach over to grab your mug and quickly finish the rest of your drink. You grab a biscuit and bite half of it, feeding the other half to Graham. Crumbs fall from his mouth and he tries to catch them in his other hand but fails. You smile sadly, the kind that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, before taking his hand and letting him lead you to your bedroom. He sits you on the bed and grabs a fresh towel from the wardrobe. “First, let’s wash off the day, hmm?” He smiles and you nod in response. He leans over and kisses your forehead, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before disappearing into the bathroom to run a bubble bath. He fills it with your favourite coconut-scented bubbles and fumbles around in his pocket to find his lighter to ignite the candle on the windowsill. It’s almost completely melted away, but he’s certain there’s enough there for it to stay lit for tonight.

He hangs the towel over the radiator to warm it up and tests the water before calling you in. You shiver as you shuffle past Graham, then lower yourself into the water. You hiss at the heat at first, but you’re soon submerged and used to it. You look over to Graham who’s knelt on the floor beside you. “Aren’t you getting in?” You ask, lying down and covering yourself with the bubbles. He shakes his head, rolling his sleeves up and pushing his glasses onto the top of his head.

“This is for you, love. You deserve to relax.” He reaches into the bath and strokes your shoulder softly. He spots a hair tie on the counter and grabs it, then stands and leans over to help tie your hair back. He scrunches it all together and ties it into a messy bun on the top of your head. It doesn’t look the best but it does the job. You look at him and smile, grabbing his arm and giving it a loving squeeze. In that moment, all you can think about is how lucky you are to have Graham. Even something as simple as him tying your hair up makes your heart swell. You wish you could stay in this room with him forever and never face any responsibilities.

You sit up to grab the soap but he beats you to it, the sponge in his other hand. “What did I say about relaxing?” He starts, eyebrows raised. “Let me.”

“Graham, you don’t have t - “

“I want to.” He cuts you off, dipping the sponge into the water and rubbing it together with the soap. You lie back down and he slowly starts to wash you, leaning over the bathtub to reach your legs. You watch as the water spills over the side a little and dampens his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind. His fingertips lightly brush your thigh and you flinch as it tickles you. Graham laughs, doing it again on purpose until you’re practically kicking your feet like a paddling dog.

“Graham!” You squeal, grabbing his wrist and using all your strength to stop him. He splashes you in the face and you splash him back, just missing him as he ducks out of the way.

“You’re going to be the one cleaning that up later.” He jokes, gesturing to the small puddle behind him. You cover your mouth with your hand, laughing quietly as he shakes his head and continues his path up your body with the sponge. He’s gentle throughout, making sure not to scrub too harshly. You move so he can wash your back last, before he wrings out the sponge and places it back on the edge of the tub. “All clean.” He smiles, drying his hands on his jeans. You lie back, not wanting to get out just yet.

“Tell me about your day Graham, tell me something good.” You say, closing your eyes and letting the bubbles cover you again, or what’s left of them at least. He pushes his glasses back onto his face and ruffles his hair, sitting against the door with his legs stretched out in front of him.

“We rehearsed a couple songs today. We didn’t get through the whole setlist as Dave wasn’t feeling too well, and what can we do without the drummer, eh?” You keep your eyes closed as you listen to Graham talk. You could listen to him talk about music and the band for hours. You’re unbelievably proud of him and you know you’ll never get tired of hearing about every new song, music video or ridiculous lyric Damon has come out with. “Alex bought everyone lunch which was nice. Damon thought he’d broken something and was trying to butter us up or bribe us with the food!” He laughs, the sound so infectious that you can’t help but laugh with him.

“Was he bribing you?” You ask, opening your eyes and looking over at him. Butterflies dance inside your stomach as you admire Graham under the glaring white light above his head. Even in poor bathroom lighting he’s still the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on. His sleeves are still rolled up to his elbows and you can see little pen scribbles on one of his arms, most likely rushed notes from rehearsal. He never did allow himself the time to just find a piece of paper. His hair is sticking out a little at the front, probably from where his glasses were sitting previously. His cheeks are a rosy pink colour, as are yours, caused by the humidity in the room.

“Nope! He was just being nice.” He grins, standing to grab the towel from the radiator. He holds it out for you and you get up, quickly getting out and wrapping yourself in it. You mentally praise his genius for leaving it on the radiator, thankful for how warm it is. It’s exactly what you need, especially on a cold night in the middle of February.

He leads you back into the bedroom and runs over to close the window to keep you warm. “Alright, pyjamas or - “

”Can I have one of your shirts?” You interrupt, looking towards his set of drawers in the corner. “I don’t want the one you’re wearing, you’re all… soggy.”

He laughs at your choice of words before rummaging through his middle drawer to find the right shirt. He tosses it over to you and it’s one of your favourites; red, long-sleeved and fleecy on the inside. You slide it on with your usual stripy pyjama pants and let your hair down. Graham strips off and takes your laundry into the bathroom to put into the basket. Whilst there, he roughly dries the floor and blows out the candle. He then does a quick scan of the apartment to make sure everything is switched off and the door is locked properly before getting into bed with you.

It pours with rain outside but you love the sound against the windows. Graham hoists himself up against the bed frame and you lay your head on his chest, throwing your left arm over him. Both of your legs wrap around one of his and he keeps you close with his arm around your back. “So, what do you want to do tomorrow?” He asks, his hand drifting upwards to play with the ends of your hair.

“Can we go to Covent Garden and get cinnamon waffles and ice cream?” He chuckles at your response and the specificity of it.

“Ice cream in this weather?”

You nod, your hair tickling his bare chest. He pulls you in closer and adjusts the blanket so you’re covered properly. “Anything for you, sweetheart.” He kisses your head, and you sit up a little to face him. You stretch upwards to kiss him, his hand staying in your hair as he kisses back. You can still taste the sugar from the biscuits on his lips, and you smile into the kiss before lying back down and closing your eyes. You both whisper “I love you”s before you press one last kiss on his shoulder. Graham’s soft breathing coupled with the rain outside begins to lull you to sleep. He stays awake, stroking your hair and watching your feet fidget beneath the covers.

“You don’t have to go back to that job next week. I’ve got things covered until something else comes along.” He whispers, and you barely register his words as you hum in response and nuzzle your head into his chest. In that moment, everything feels OK and Graham knows that as long as you’re together and you have each other, that nothing can bring either of you down for too long. Once your breathing evens out, he closes his own eyes, but not without telling you how lucky he is beforehand. You’re not awake to hear it, but that doesn’t matter.

[inviouswriting]

Apron

This will be one of my better smuts. Showing what I am capable of~

Simeon x fem!reader.

Prompting for an apron idea. This might have multiple parts.

Themes - Smut, naked apron, established relationships, size kink, overstimulation, descriptive stuff, nipple play, temperature play, all that entails to smut. An excuse to write some Simeon smut.

There is a serene quiet of the morning, you had gotten up earlier than you normally would like to. You smile to yourself as you work to get out of the dark brown arms that had you secure in them. They even grasp for you, you supply Simeon with a pillow to bury his face into. You don’t miss the finger that runs down the middle of your bare back.

“Come back... My lamb...” Groggy is Simeon’s voice as he seeks you out snaring your waist to pull you back into his arms, the pillow not sufficient enough for the angel.

“Simeon, my angel. I want to do something for you.” He succeeds in pulling you back down to him. His head pressing into the crook of your neck with happy hums of approval. Even nuzzling his cheek into yours. You almost want to give up your plans and let him have his way.

Almost. 

“A little longer please?” A simple kiss pressed along your ear, and you feel your legs hot. You steel yourself against his charm, and start to move out of his arms again.

“Simeon, please let me up? I’ll make it up to you.” You bargain with him, if you had to guess his blue eyes would be looking at you with that pout he manages. 

“Alright my lamb... I’ll be cold without you.” You look at him over your shoulder with a wink, and he lowers his eyes to your back, sheepish, you see his face lighten up with a blush on it. You reach a hand to his head and rub through his hair earning more happy hums. 

The grip on your waist lessens, and you slip out of his arms entirely. You hand him back the pillow he had shoved aside for you instead. He takes it, resting his head back on it, enjoying your scent.

You tug on a robe and leave your angel after he closes his eyes to get some more sleep. An idea was given to you by Asmodeus, to spice things up with your Celestial lover. You had made a special request the day prior for Barbatos to take care of Luke, and Solomon. Keeping the two out of the Purgatory hall for what you had in store. 

You set about making breakfast for you and Simeon. Something simple but to give you both energy. In fruit crepes and eggs. When you had finished making some of the food, you hear the quiet shuffling of Simeon’s feet, finally roused enough to find out what you were doing and what you made. You feel shy for what you were about to do.

Carefully you remove the robe you had on, and checked the ribbon for the apron holding it together in back. A light green sheer silk apron that went down to your thighs. You fiddle with the hem to make sure it is in place, you shed the last piece of clothing you had underneath in panties while tugging up stockings that went with the apron. Your face burned in embarrassment as you kept your attention on the food to not burn it.

“Lamb? This smells nice, eh!” You hear his voice hitch. You have your back to Simeon, and you turn off the stove now that the last of the food cooked. You look over your shoulder to your angel, he is more than just blushing, he even covered his face. Sometimes you wonder if he is too innocent, fitting as an angel. You almost blush more, but keep your nerve as you turn back to collect the plates.

“I hope you like what I made, I remembered something from my home world. Strawberry crepes.” You carry on non-chalant like you weren’t parading around half naked to him. You note he is shirtless but wearing his white pants. 

“Ahh... I’ll like anything made by you.” Simeon uncovers his face, and takes a deep breath getting a better look at you. You set down the plates, purposefully leaning over to allow the sides of the apron shift down to expose a breast to his eyes. He had taken a seat, and now his hands go down to his lap.

“That outfit... where did you get it? Asmodeus?” You beam at him and nod, the avatar of lust providing you ways to keep things spicy between you and Simeon. You see Simeon looking off to the side to avoid his rising problems. A devilish idea pops into your mind as you tap your angel’s shoulder getting his attention.

“Yes my lamb?” His voice sounded pained, while you two have been intimate many times, it doesn’t take much to get his attention in that area, all you have to do is look him in his eyes and he knows. With the space he creates between the table and himself, you slip onto his lap. Deliberately choosing to seat your rear on the bulge of his pants. You hear him groan at having his straining erection sat on, specially when relief for it is separated by his clothing.

“We should eat before it gets cold.” You say cheerfully, you even bring a fork up for him to take a bite. Simeon’s hands touch at your waist to shift you down to not have you seated just so on him. You only shift grinding down against him, his mouth parts and a moan slips out. You press the fork to his lips and he takes a bite of the offering. Focusing on the sweetness over his tongue, anything other than the heat of you on him like this.

You repeat this, taking bites of your own food in between forkfuls to Simeon. When he announces he is full, you lean in and give him a reassuring kiss. You are met with equal passion, even him pressing forward to you to feel softness. You indulge him, letting Simeon deepen the kiss, tongue dancing around yours, you feel bare hands slipping underneath the side of the apron to feel your skin along your inner thigh.

You taper the kiss off with tugging his bottom lip, hidden promise, he chases after your lips only to kiss your shoulder as you get up off of him.

“I should clean these~” Simeon stares at your back as you walk away from him. The angel more than just a little turned on, he needed you now. So when you return and collect more dishes, you feel Simeon grab for you much like earlier in the bedroom. Snaring you at your waist to tug you into his arms. But you are fast as you swat his hands off.

“Lamb! Please!” Simeon’s gentle voice is a hair sharper, you lock eyes with him and see how much he is desperate for your touch. You are almost merciful, but you needed to clear the table before he could even touch you.

“Patience is a virtue.” Your voice reminding him. Simeon turns his head away to hide his further blush, his hands going down to palm himself through his pants to relieve some pressure. You finish clearing the table and wipe it clear of any syrups or crumbs. 

Simeon has been watching you move about gracefully, looking away a few times that he is surprised when you nudge him to scoot his chair back so you can fit in his lap again. You loop your arms around his neck, meeting his eyes when he turns his gaze on you. He barely registered the sound of things being set onto the table, he eyes a glass of ice, but his attention is on you fully.

“I know we just ate, but would you like a little extra?” You play it up, and Simeon eyes you weary at the idea of more food, only getting it when you roll your hips forward to his own. 

“Very much... I would love extra, Please, my love, I am aching.” You are merciful on him with how his voice is pleading to you now. You lean up to kiss him full, and are met with an equal press back, almost like he is drowning for your kisses.

 You hum into the kiss distracting him with quick and small pecks. His hands at your waist tugging the apron up so his fingers could delve along your sensitive folds. He spreads them apart with two fingers while his middle dips in, Simeon parts the kiss to eye you at how wet you are. 

“Looks like someone was enjoying this too much.” Gentle rubs of his finger around your clit that you wiggle in his lap to push his hand closer. You sheepishly give him a wink only to bury your face in his shoulder when the long finger slips inside.

“You’re very warm this morning... I want to feel more.” Simeon presses kisses along your neck, following the trail of marks he left the night prior. You turn your face to press into his neck; leaving a few soft kisses of your own against it. You both bump heads gently, earning a soft scoff in your cheek when you both wanted to kiss the other’s face.

You rock your hips with Simeon’s hand when he adds another finger inside of you. Your face visibly flushes dark from feeling so hot, that you almost forgot about the ice. You squeeze your thighs to trap Simeon’s hand there, giving small movements with his fingers curling.

“Simeon? Would you kiss me please?” You request, and he happily obliges, pressing a series to your lips. Enough to distract the angel from your hands reaching behind to the glass, you pull two ice cubes from it one you hide in the palm of your left hand, the other you bring up along side your faces.

Simeon parts from the kiss when he feels cold on his cheek, the ice cube being traced from the edge of his jaw, to between your lips together. You hold an end and give him a quiet stare. The angel catches on, and meets your lips on the other end of the ice. 

You tilt your head to kiss him easier, Simeon takes the ice into his mouth and you chase after it as he draws your tongue in to dance with his. You feel his free hand move to the back of your head to hold you in place. You grind down on his hand wanting him now, but you press your left hand to the center of his back. 

Simeon jolts a bit from the sudden cold on his back, and you both break the kiss for air. You hear the ice on the table move as Simeon grabs two, and holds one in his mouth like you did. The other one he runs his palm down your arm. You sigh out and lean forward to kiss him again.

You grind more on his hand till Simeon adds a third finger, you whine into the kiss at the stretch. You feel his thumb brush your clit as Simeon nudges your legs apart to have better movement with his hand. You moan off of the kiss when his fingers press that one spot that has your legs trembling. 

You meet his blue eyes, and Simeon looks proud of himself for the sight that is only his. Your face twisted in pleasure, and eyes now pleading him like his were you earlier. You look away only for him to tilt your head back up to his, a sweet kiss pressed to your lips. Simeon withdraws his hand that had been pleasing you and you feel empty without him.

“My lamb, patience is a virtue.” He uses your words against you, and you feel him shift against you to undo his pants down enough. Simeon helps you lay back on the table, hanging your lower half towards his own as he stands. 

Pushing the chair he had been sitting in away. Simeon kneels down much to your surprise of him almost ready to take you on the table. Instead you feel him rest your legs over his shoulders, while he uses his hands to spread your folds apart. 

“You’re very wet. Do my fingers feel that good?” You almost answer him if it weren’t for the lick around your clit. You dig your heels into the center of his back to pull him closer. Simeon didn’t need to be encouraged twice before his mouth presses full to your pussy, his tongue delving between the folds to lap from opening to clit then back down.

Your nails scratch at the table, and you bite back moans as Simeon holds your legs apart from you trying to close them on him. You noticed the glass of ice missing from the table, and yelp when something cold presses along your hole. Simeon’s hot mouth catches the ice cube and draws it along your folds using his tongue to press the cube around your clit. Your legs shake; Simeon feels your heels digging into his back more when he breathes a hot breath over the path he drew with the ice.

He does this long enough to ensure you are relaxed and thoroughly soaked for him. With one last kiss to your clit, Simeon rises back up, keeping your legs apart as he sets the glass next to your side. The ice in it almost completely melted, save for a few stray cubes and water now.

“Ready for me my love?” Simeon asks, grinding his cock along your folds slicking himself. He exhales a breath feeling the slight difference between hot and cold. 

“Of course I am.. please Simeon? Love me?” A smile crosses his face as he looks at you.

“I already love you.” You wanted to shove him for being sweet and sexy at the same time. But any words you were about to say die on your tongue when he presses inside. A sharp gasp pulled from you for pushing in swift, only to still and be seated full inside. Simeon reaches his fingers into the glass for any remaining ice and presses a melting cube to the front of your chest circling a nipple, watching the already sheer material expose more of your breast.

Simeon settles into a rhythm with you, slow pull backs, with quick thrusts in. He feels good, and you enjoy his size, thick enough to be a reason for alot of foreplay, while long and curved enough that makes you see stars every time he pushes in.

“Love me... please love me... more.” You manage, your arms going to loop around Simeon’s neck as he buries his face into your shoulder, breathy pants against your ear. You wrap your legs around his waist at his urging, and dig your heels into his hips to pull him to yourself.

A shock of cold hits your front, you snap your attention to Simeon who smirks as he had emptied the glass of cold water on you. The angel raises up as he admires your chest fully visible to his eyes. You almost scold him about not ruining the apron, but his hands grabbing your chest to squeeze your nipples makes it hard to do anything but moan out for him.

“Simeon...” You call his name, as his pace increases, he feels like he is in a further heaven than his home in the Celestial Realm. 

“My name, lamb... say it again... please.” Your hands go to the back of his head when he lowers it down to circle a nipple with his tongue then engulfs it through the fabric to suck on it. Gently tugging with his teeth, enough that you arch off the table beneath him. 

“Simeon! Please!” You were teetering on that edge, and Simeon feels it in the way you are alot hotter and squeezing him when he thrusts in. Your nails scratch at the middle of Simeon’s back when he came up to be within your arms. His own arms working underneath you to hold you to him. 

Simeon focuses on the building pressure in his own pending orgasm, while you cling to him, yours hits you hard; your nails scratching fine lines down his back that will have the angel wearing full shirts for a bit. 

Simeon feels immense heat and tight around his cock, that makes it hard to thrust in for himself. He pushes in and you hear him moan out in pleased sighs at feeling you so tight around him that he releases inside. Simeon lays on top of you, pressing kisses to your face. You sigh content and run your fingers through his hair petting his head to earn hums of approval. 

“I love you..” You hear muffled in your neck.

“I love you too, Simeon.” You return his affections, he lifts his head to meet your stare. A kiss shared between you both. You purr into it happily. Simeon tugs you with him to sit back in the chair, you groan a little as he pulls himself free of your folds.

“You want to do more right?” You ask, Simeon’s eyes widen at your question, and you see his face pink up.

“I would love that. We still have a while before Solomon and Luke are back?” You nod.

“They’ll be back in the evening.” 

“Then let’s take advantage of our time together, it’s rare that we get such alone time.” Simeon’s voice sounds happier at the idea of spending the day with you like this.

“I knew you’d be happy.” You begin to undo the apron, wanting it off your skin. You even look at the table to see the mess of water.

“We should clean up first.” You mention.

“We will, after we make more of a mess. May I ask something?”

“Yes? Simeon?” You can see his mind working for something.

“What do you say to something sweet?” 

“I could use some sugar.” You smile up at him, and his eyes seem to shine from the idea of something more.

~~~~End Part 1~~~~~

I’ll continue this! I just want to separate sections~

[imastrangeone98]

Love Me Tender

(A/N: goddammit I need to stop coming up with one shots I already have a ton of drafts)

No warnings, just fluff and some mild hurt/comfort. And yeaaaa his banner rerun woohoo!!!

Your interactions with the Fatui Harbinger aren't ones of great affection: he needed stress relief, you provided it. And he gave you bruising, mind-breaking, toe-curling pleasure in return.

But when you see him in the streets, his gaze always slips past you. And his message couldn't be clearer: you're nothing more than his play toy.

It hurts. A lot more than you expected it to. Especially when he brushes past you to cheerfully greet the Traveler and their floating companion, giving them an affectionate pat on the head, and a smile wider and warmer than what he gives you.

So when he stands in front of you now, eyes full of pain and a grimace on his face, you can't help but think about turning him away.

"Please..." he whispers, so quiet you almost don't believe it. "There's no one else I can turn to."

You want to tell him bullshit, that he has the radiant Traveler to help him, to patch him up, to run their hands all over his scarred body and ask how each of them came to be.

You want to. But you can't.

Even as you wordlessly let him in and grab the first-aid kit off the counter, you still don't know why you chose to help him.

But at least you don't say anything when he lets out an occasional hiss of pain. At least, in this way, you can still have a shred of dignity, no matter how small.

As you set the kit away, Childe releases a small, humorless laugh.

"You won't even ask how I got these wounds?" he asks, and you feel his eyes peering at the back of your head.

You're really not in the mood for his judgement, regardless of his wounds.

"I'll draw you a bath," you respond instead, refusing to even give him a glance as you make your way to the bathroom.

You hear him shuffle behind you, a heavy sigh escaping his lips that you choose to ignore in favor of drawing some hot water into the tub.

After scattering some scented flowers, you get ready to leave, but he grabs your hand.

"Not gonna stay?" There's a hint of wheedling in his voice, but you know it's only a facade for something else.

"I'll make you something to eat." Gently tugging your hand from his grasp, you shut the door. "Come out when you're clean."

And with that, you slide the door firmly shut, unaware of the soft disappointment in his eyes.

[...]

By the time he emerged from the bathroom, you had already set the table with some simple fried rice and jewelry soup.

As you garnish the Jueyun chili chicken, you feel strong arms wrap around your waist. His nose brushes against your hair, and he takes a deep breath.

"Smells good," he mumbled drowsily, rubbing his cheek against yours. "Your food's always the best."

"If you wanted good food, you would've gone to Wanmin."

"Maybe yours is better."

"I doubt that."

Pulling away from his embrace feels strange, but so is this entire situation. You set the chicken on the table and take a seat, deep in thought.

You realize that you've never seen him eat before. It's almost cute, how he stuffs his cheeks and eats like a squirrel. It's almost entertaining, watching him take swigs of tea while eating chicken at the same time.

It almost feels... domestic.

A warm shiver runs down your spine. Domestic.

You're so lost in thought, you don't notice how he slowly shuffles his chair closer to yours, until your shoulders brush against each other. He leans down to rest his head on your hair.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?"

You jump at his sudden closeness, and you're too shocked to even lie. "This." You gesture between the two of you. "This is... different."

His expression changes, his smile fading into a thoughtful gaze. With a hum, he drinks more tea before saying, "Maybe different isn't such a bad thing."

Your eyes go wide, and you just stare at him. And he returns it, blue eyes burning with intensity that you've never seen before.

"What... what are you saying?" you whisper, images of him with the Traveler suddenly flashing through your mind.

"Haven't you figured it out by now?" He leans over, and pushes his nose against your own, holding his stare into your eyes. "You already know the answer."

His close proximity isn't helping the wild pounding of your heart. For a moment, you just want to give in to him, to let him hold you, to let him love you, even if it wasn't real, just one more time.

His lips brush against yours, and you nearly succumb to his charm once again.

You still don't know how you found the strength to pull away. But this time, he doesn't seem as keen to let you get far.

"What's wrong?" He grips your wrist and pulls you back, and you end up stumbling right into his lap. But before you can even feel embarrassed for yourself, he's wrapped his arms tight around your waist. "Sweetheart? Why are you pulling away?"

"It's nothing," you say, a little too quickly to be reassuring. "I'm just tired."

"Then let's go to bed." His tone leaves no room for argument, as he scoops you up and heads straight to your bedroom with familiar ease.

Now this is familiar. You know how it goes next. He'll rip at your clothes, promising to buy you more as he starts clawing at his pants. He won't bother trying to prep you as he starts slamming into your cunt, bringing you both to an ungodly high. You'll end up sloppy, messy, pussy sore with the sheer force he pounds you with. Just the way he likes it.

Your hands reach for the hem of your shirt, but he pulls them away, settling for pressing them against his chest. "No. None of that."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. He's deviating again. Why is he deviating so much today? Why can't he just use you and leave, so you can wallow in your own self-pity like always?

His arms are tight around you, and when he pulls you down to lie beside him, you can't resist him.

With his body heat, sleep begins to tug at your eyelids. It makes you soft, makes you ask the question, "How did you get hurt?" in that quiet voice he has grown to love.

Childe smiles, and nuzzles your forehead. "Let's just say the toys my brother likes to play with aren't very... adult friendly."

You're too sleepy to decipher his words, so you just nod and lean into him, his warmth and smell covering you like a blanket.

You're so sleepy, in fact, you don't notice that you've agreed to go to Snezhnaya with him when he asks you.

And he closes his eyes, wondering how his parents would react when he introduces you to them.

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: it's finally done! Ugh why did it take so long I don't understand

[dracosathenaeum]

Great Love Story | Final Part | DM

#A/N: Apologies for the long wait, with what went down the other night and overall writers block this took far longer than I expected. I hope this is a satisfying ending for everyone who’s been reading so far!! Let me know what you thought of it overall!! Also this chapter is dedicated to @slytherinwh0re and Voldemort’s feet :3

Warnings: swearing, violence, food, mentions of strangling and sex

Word Count: 2,781

PART 1 | PART 2

Waking up alone in that empty bed had perhaps been worse than when Draco had broken up with you. You had left his room that time thinking he had left you because he had lost all feelings for you. This time, he had left even though you knew of his true feelings, feelings that he couldn’t hide. Jealousy was never easy to hide for Draco, but luckily for you it just showed that he still cared for you.

You had spent days after he had left you with nothing but second thoughts in your head, debating with yourself whether or not he was worth it. You could’ve walked away and let that last night be a mistake, leave it to be the final moment of closure between the two of you (if you could even call it closure).

But no, learning from mistakes apparently wasn’t an option for you.

You just wanted the truth, was what you told yourself as you wrapped a green tie around your neck; not revenge, just the truth.

“Remember all you have to do is walk past Draco and smile at me from across the hall a couple times. He’ll be able to connect the dots from that alone.”

The older Slytherin looked at you with a smirk on his face, “If I knew all I had to do was swap ties with you and walk past Malfoy to have someone do my potions essay for me I would’ve offered my services years ago.”  You had been lucky enough to have found (bribed) someone to help you pull the truth from Draco, even if you weren’t too fond of the person himself. You were up for playing the long game though you doubted Draco could resist interfering before long.

You ran your fingers through his soft locks, ruffling them up a little before unbuttoning both of your top buttons to make it seem more realistic. “You know, if you wanted to make it authentic, we could just actually get with each other? I wouldn’t mind rubbing it in Malfoys face that I got with his girl.”

Retracting your hands from his shirt, you grimaced, “This is enough, thank you Adrian.” You were only being polite since he was helping you out; the second you no longer needed him you would make sure he knew you’d never be interested in him.

“Come on, before they all finish eating before we’ve even gone in.” You walked into great hall, head held high and hand gripped in a clammy hold. As much you had hated how Draco’s hands had always been cold, you suddenly found yourself missing them greatly.

You let go of his hand and the both of you walked your separate directions but that was all you needed. You sat down with your friends and watched as Theo pointed out your tie and then the person who had yours. You didn’t even both keeping your gaze on their table for Draco’s reaction, something would come sooner or later.

“y/n, uh, are you sure this is a good idea? I know if sucks, but he’s clearly moved on, I don’t think making him jealous will work when he looks at Pansy like that.”

He hadn’t told you he loved you the other night, nor had he let you say it, but his love language was never with words. The way he held you, the careful touches and well-placed kisses, those were what made you believe there was still hope, and if not, at least an actual explanation rather than fucking you into the oblivion only to leave you before the sun was awake.

You knew he loved you still, but perhaps there were now two in his heart. Your eyes wondered back to the Slytherin table, expecting him to be glaring holes into the side of your head or arguing with the boy who had your tie around his neck, but no. He had his eyes trained on Pansy’s eyes, his fingers playing with a strand of her perfect hair. Grace was right, you had no chance when he was looking at Pansy with stars in his eyes. Though perhaps that was your answer itself. Your plan had been perfect, you had just executed it around the wrong people.

//

He had fucked up once, he wasn’t about to do so again; not when the stakes were so high. His one moment of jealousy causing him to lose control had only furthered his resolve to not do so again. It simply wasn’t worth the risk.

He would only take partial blame though, his twit of a partner clearly wasn’t as sneaky as she had claimed to be, one slip up each was already more than allowed and although they both knew, it seemed only Draco was taking it seriously.

Talking to Pansy had been less than helpful, “She could’ve joined in.” being her only response, her red painted lips curling into a smile that made something in his stomach tighten. Perhaps he was the fool to expect more from her.

Her shortcomings and the disappointment he felt of his own lack of self-control had perhaps been the only thing to stop him from punching the shit eating grin off the rat who you had decided to use to pull a reaction from him.

He had been with you just three nights ago and he knew you, knew you inside and out. The hickeys on your neck were his marks and all 3 of you knew that; swapping ties with some poor sucker and ruffling his hair wasn’t going break him. Not by a long shot.

It had taken him everything that night outside the room of requirement to not push you in and take you until you remembered you could only feel that way for him, yet he had managed to spit out the word whore and swallow the instant regret, grimacing at the memory of your palm striking his face.

He had done all that to have his weak heart ruin it when he found you with Theo.

He had almost ruined everything.

But yet again his weak, traitorous heart failed him when he found himself with his fist across someone’s face.

//

You had kept your eyes trained on the food in front of you to prevent the temptation of causing yourself any more pain, instead working your brain on how best to get Draco alone and on how best to procure some veritaserum (was that even legal?).

Throwing back the last of your pumpkin juice, you gave a quick goodbye to your friends before you all but ran to the library in attempts to look for some answers. Well you had tried getting to the library; you had been barely halfway through the great hall when Adrian had seemingly appeared from thin air, his hand on your upper arm pulling you to a stop.

“So when do I get my compensation for this favour?”

You didn’t know what it was, but the way he looked and spoke to you had the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He had leant in, warm puffs of air blowing across your ear as he spoke to you. Not the kind that had you melting in Draco’s arm, but the kind that had you wanting to turn and run, but his bruising hold on your arm wasn’t about to let that happen.

“The Slytherin prince looks like he’s about to murder me, I think I deserve more than an essay. Let me fuck you and we’ll call it even.”

The joy in your chest from hearing that your plan had worked was quickly replaced with the most revoting feeling, you physically gagged and wondered why no one intervened as you had physically recoiled from him. Draco may not have been many people’s first picks, you wouldn’t try to hide his faults, but he at least had some respect and dignity.

Your mouth fell open, not sure if you should slap him across the face or swear at him until he got the point.

“The audacity-”

“If I ever see you within 100 meters of her again, I’ll make sure you’ll never be able to fuck again.” Yet again another Slytherin has seemingly appeared from thin air, cutting off you off before you could even say what you wanted to say. Adrian had been smart enough to let go of you the second he had heard Draco’s voice, but it didn’t make up for the fact he had been stupid enough to act.

You strode out the doors of the great hall as soon as you remembered how to use your legs, catching Draco’s his fist connecting with Adrian’s face out of the corner of your eye; the sickening crack of the collision was enough to bring a smile back on your face. That and the fact Draco had yet again shown his true colours, now you just needed to know why he was hell bent on hiding them and hurting you both.

You hadn’t realised how lost in your own thoughts you had been in until you found yourself in the courtyard with a blonde Ravenclaw waving happily at you.

“Hi y/n! Isn’t it beautiful out today? I wanted to take Pansy on a picnic, but you understand why that’s not quite possible yet.” You hadn’t expected to run into Luna so soon, though you avoiding her out of sheer embarrassment had definitely been a major factor of that.

“You’re okay being the ‘other woman’? Luna you deserve so much more than that.” The two of you weren’t particularly close (other than when you had seen her being sent to heaven by Pansy’s fingers), but she felt an obligation like any other person might’ve.

“Other woman? I thought Pansy said you two had made up again? They're just faking it for you-know-who. I guess Draco had to be stricter since he has his secret task, but it’s odd he’s taking so long to tell you.”

You blinked. You remembered how to breathe again and then the anger came.

“I have to go but thank you Luna, I owe you.” You didn’t have time to come up with a speech or a plan, you would just find him and do whatever your impulses led to.

You were going to make him repent for every second lost, for every ounce of heart ache you felt and then you’d have him beg for you, if you managed to not strangle him first that was.

You ended up pounding on the doors to the dungeons when he had been nowhere else. With each place you searched resulting with him not being there, your anger built, the frustration worse than it had ever been.

“Jeez woman, is someone dead?”

“No but with that look it looks like someone’s about to be.”

The doors had opened revealing a far too happy Pansy and Theo, clearly enjoying how mad you seemed to be. You didn’t waste a second, pushing past the both of them to see Draco sat casually on one of the leather sofas, clearly bragging about how he had just punched Adrian.

“You had no right!”

As if it wasn’t enough that The Dark Lord was walking around his home barefoot and threatening his family’s lives; his ex-girlfriend was now going to kill him. Well, he’d rather die by her hands than his any day.

“You still haven’t told her?” You hadn’t even heard Pansy come up behind you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. For everyone else it seemed like a jealous ex-girlfriend causing drama, a sharp look from Draco had sent everyone scrambling as he mumbled a silencing charm under his breath.

“If you want me to apologise for punching Pucey, I would rather you slap me again.” He was still lying to you. Your hands curled around his collar, pulling him up from his casual lounging across the sofa.

“Luna told me everything. You had no right to make that kind of decision for me. Who else knew?” You watched as the colour drained from his face, you turned to see Pansy, Theo and Blaise quickly avert their gazes. The three of them clearly thought they would be watching you shout at Draco for punching Adrian as they quickly found other places to be once they realised your true intentions.

“Can we actually talk now without you running off with your so-called girlfriend who has been dating another woman and without you only paying attention to me when you deem necessary?” Draco had slumped back onto the green leather, hand dragging over his face as he refused to meet your gaze again, the expression on his face a far cry from what it had been just moments ago.

“I can’t explain everything to you. Can you just trust that I’m doing what’s best for you? For us.”

If his voice hadn’t been so shaky, if his body hadn’t trembled like is had when he was 13 as you held him against you as he cried about the passing of his grandfather, you might not have decided to not push further.

So Harry was right, though some part of you had always known, after all in what world would Harry Potter make something like that up. You had just deluded yourself into thinking Draco wouldn’t be dragged into it. “I know Draco. You don’t have to say anything you can’t, but I know.”

His eyes whipped up to meet yours, clearly not expecting that response from you. You looked at him with the same fierce gaze he loved and for a second he thought you’d slap him again.

He thought you’d hit him and run or even worse, you’d stay.

“If this wasn’t the best possible option, I wouldn’t have chosen it, you have to understand that. It was better than the alternative of losing you and my parents. Do you know what he does to people? Do you know how he tears them apart? How he would rip your mind into shreds and then leave you with just enough life to watch him do the same to everyone else you care about.”

You stayed silent; you hadn’t thought about the bigger the picture this whole time, focusing only on you and your insignificant feelings.

“I refuse to put you at risk. If I had to make a choice; if I had to choose between saving you or my parents, I don’t know who I’d choose and that terrifies me. I can lose you and try to move on or find you again, but I can’t abandon my parents without signing their death warrants.” His words hurt. There was no masking that, but you knew he was right, he was making the most logical decision and you could not fault him for it, no matter how much your heart objected.

You just looked at him for a tense second, your brain trying to piece together what to say and what to think. Life had not prepared you for this moment.

“But the way you looked at her-“

“Looked at who?”

“Pansy.”

“I was imagining you.”

Your cheeks flushed with warmth, unsure if it was embarrassment, relief or anger. His fingers reached for yours, the familiarity of his wrapped around yours loosened the ball of nerves in your stomach just a little.

“Okay. Go.”

“What?” His fingers tightened their grip on your hand.

“I’ll wait until after the war; but you better find yourself on the right side. Just stay alive and I’ll find you.”

“And if I’m in Azkaban?” a voice so small you almost didn’t hear it.

“I don’t believe you could do anything horrific enough to end up in Azkaban; but even so, you better make some right choices because you hold our future in your hands Malfoy.”

He looked at you as though you had gone mad, and frankly you might’ve. After all, who would wait for their ex-boyfriend after finding out they were a death eater?

“You cannot be serious.”

“I would wait a lifetime for you.”

It had been those very words that had given him hope, something he didn’t think he would ever have again after taking the mark. He had not convinced his father to reconsider and that was something he would have to live for the rest of his life; but he had his mother. A mother’s love would prove yet again to be a saving grace.

The two of you may not have rebuilt what you had until years after, but when it came to making that all important choice, he had chosen the right one.

TAGLIST: @bbeauttyybbx @pipppaaaaalouisee @theslytherinprincessworld @fangirl-3d2y @tttyrus @scriptingslytherin @justmimithings @purpleskymalfoy @minigigglybabi @505weasleys @secretaccshh @obbrssession @whatwoulddracodo @thatoneniceslytherin @thehumanistsdiary @mariah-can-dream @futureofanthropology @ccabian @tobarmaidswhodontcount @dray-cookies  @xuckduck @dreamyginny @dracofeltonmalfoy @lord-byron @inglourious-imagines @audreythehufflepuff @beiahadid @moonlightorbit @imonlyherecauseimbored @dracosgoodgirl @dreaming-about-fanfictions @goldenxreid @avengers-end-me @sad-bitch-h0ur @zhangyixingxing1 @yourenotafailureoverall @pastelpuffbar @miso-tang @pixiedustsupplyco @harry-and-draco-loves @tsukibaby @dracoswhore007 @hogwartslut @mischiefisbeingmanaged @raylovessarcasm @drxcomvlfx @dracosballs @standingandstaring @its-chickenwing-450 @iamproudtobeaslytherin @mischiefisbeingmanaged @pxroxide-prinxcesss @slytherinxraven @jinnbie @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend @Utzelh8 @gloryekaterina @capkatie @jquick-18 @imcedricdiggorys @osterfieldnholland @explxsion @big-galaxy-chaos @malfoycrave @softlyqoos @krazykendraisnotinsane @minsuuwu @lumlfy @mllzhxrrs44 @weasleyis0urking @slytherinwh0re @gwlvr @m3ssytrash @aubreyanna02 @akaaaaashiiii @carrobrumbrum @dracoswift @bitchybeatle @samnblack @dumspirospero-1 @dracomalfoyswifeee @sydnee-kom-spacekru​

Those who asked for part 3!: @dracoxmgg​ @em2604 @gabiconstellation​  @azkabanlexi​ @indieslytherin​ @sushiims @sincerlymalfoy​ 

[tintinwrites]

how could we be wrong? | Priest!Max Phillips x Reader

A/N: Thank you for doing business with the religious trauma hotline, my name’s Caitlin. I’m just calling to confirm your order of a priest kink.

Rating: 18+

Warning: Fem!Reader. Max is a priest. Unprotected P in V sex, in a church, over a pew, while another priest and a parishioner are in the confessional booth. Oral (F receiving). Religious things. Naughty words. A bit of corruption kink. There are so many sins in this that I can’t list them all bc idk what’s bad and what’s not now.

Word count: 4,105, apparently!!

Summary: You go to church to confess your sins, but end up only adding on some more things you’ll need to confess.

GIF credit: thewaythisis

Tags: Love y’all but I cannot CANNOT force my taglist to have a priest kink thrust upon them like this.

                                               --------------------

The oak door was heavy as you pulled on the brass handle, but the opening of it led you into a warm, quiet sanctuary.

You supposed there was a metaphor in there; you were out in the cold with a heavy weight, but just beyond that weight was warmth and salvation and peace.

Every pew was empty, bibles and hymnals tucked neatly in the compartments on the back as they waited for mass or for passersby who needed to pray. There were candles lit at the front of the sanctuary despite the lights on overhead, and you inwardly berated yourself for not knowing why they were lit.

You intended to go to the confessional booth to your right, but you paused halfway to it when you saw that there was another person in the sanctuary. They were facing away from you, dressed in all black, but they didn’t have snowy white hair like the priest who you’d seen the times you visited before.

Glancing at the confessional, you decided instead to approach the man.

Perhaps you just hadn’t seen him before and if he was the only priest in the building, going into an empty confessional would be a little silly.

“Father?” you asked cautiously, and the man immediately whipped around to show a face much younger than you were used to, his gaze quickly flickering over you.

“—yes, my...child?” The name was said hesitantly with a slight grimace and you wondered if you interrupted him.

“I’m sorry. I can come back later.” You turned to go, but a hand wrapped around your arm to pull you back.

“No, stay, I was just cleaning.” He held up the dust buster in his free hand, releasing you so he could put it on the altar table. “What do you need? I’m yours.”

He said that simple statement so smoothly as he turned to face you that it made your heart pick up speed just a bit, blinking at him for a moment. “Well, I...came to confess, but I’m not exactly anonymous anymore…”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, slugger!” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders before you could protest, leading you to a pew and sitting down with you, his legs open wide as he relaxed into the wooden seat. “So, come on, what’s the secret, huh? What’d you come to confess?”

“I...I don’t know.” You knew what you came to confess, but you were taken aback by his behavior and how quickly he moved, and mostly just embarrassed to admit such things to a handsome man like him.

“Are you one of those freaks who just came to confess just in case?”

“What? That’s...no.” You were definitely surprised by a man of God talking about the parishioners who came to confess like that. “I just don’t know if I should confess these things outside of the confessional.”

He made a face and waved his hand as if to say it was no big deal. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

There was something charming about how carefree and flippant the man was, but you still hesitated for a second. “I don’t even know who you are, Father.”

“Max Phillips. I just started training here.”

Well, that explained his lack of the professionalism and seriousness you were used to. You opened your mouth to confess since he was a priest or would soon be one, but you shook your head and looked down shyly. “I don’t know…”

A finger under your chin gently nudged your head up until you were looking into Max’s eyes, your heart picking up speed again. “You’re safe with me. Go ahead.”

There was just something about him that made you feel all warm inside, and you nodded for so long it was almost stupid before you remembered that you were supposed to be confessing.

“I’ve been having a lot of impure thoughts lately. It just seems like everything is driving me crazy and then I…” You faltered as the real thing you wanted to confess to danced on the tip of your tongue.

Max had been looking at the way your dress hugged your tits as he listened, raising his eyes to your face when you stopped. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re very young to be a priest.” You started to turn away because talking about something like this to a man who looked like that was not stopping your thoughts from heading in the direction they tended to lately. “And you’re different. Shouldn’t we be in the confessional?”

“Hey, listen, how about we...make a deal? You confess, and I can tell you how I ended up here.” He just really wanted to know what had you so ashamed like this, what could possibly make you squirm like you were right then.

You considered it for a second before nodding, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been masturbating. I start thinking, and then I start feeling these sensations, and before I know it, I’m touching myself.”

He nodded along in understanding like the thought of you touching yourself didn’t make his pants a little tighter. “I see.”

“I know it’s wrong.” You dropped your head into your hands, but were only able to wallow for a few seconds. The priest grabbed onto your hands and grasped them in his supportively, making you look up at him.

“You wanna hear why I became a priest?” He smiled at your slight nod. “I was always a little bit of a...troublemaker. But I guess the last time was just the straw that broke the camel’s back for my parents…”

“What did you do?” you asked with concern; the way he sighed made it seem like he did something terrible, like hurt someone or do some kind of dangerous drug.

“See, there was this girl I liked. I invited her over to my house.” He knew exactly what he was doing with this story, noting every little hint of your untapped desire in the way you leaned closer and your blinking slowed. “When my parents walked in to find me with my head under her skirt, slowly thrusting my tongue in and out of her, I guess it was too much.”

His words dripped with sensuality and you would have fallen right off the pew were it not for your grip tightening on his hands. He was so beautiful. You pressed your thighs together and just stared at him, your lips parting slightly like you wanted to say something or maybe even kiss him.

But then he leaned back and shrugged, going right back to his previous nonchalance. “So they sent me to seminary a few years ago and I was just accepted by this church.”

“Oh.” You nodded, trying to pretend that his story hadn’t affected you that much. It seemed like he was just telling a story and your horny brain had just read too much into it.

“You know sexuality isn’t bad, right? Rubbing one out is a biological response to release a little...tension.” He released your hands to break contact with you, noticing the way you fell forward just a little as he leaned against the back of the pew.

“The bible says—”

“The bible’s been translated a billion times and taken out of context a billion more. Trust me, there’s nothing wrong with releasing a little tension.” He tilted his head, pursing his lips as he decided to push you a bit. “There’s nothing wrong with you being turned on by the idea of me putting my head under your dress right now.”

You were nodding along as you considered his words, but then your eyes nearly doubled in size at his comment. “I—I don’t—”

“Now lying is a sin.” He reached out to tap you on the nose which made you blink rapidly in confusion. “Look at how tense you are. You’ve been denying yourself, haven’t you?”

“Well...I didn’t think it was right…” You were uncomfortable; not because he was upsetting you, but because you had been denying yourself and you were so turned on by his words that you wanted to do the very thing you came to confess.

“Why don’t you show me how you touch yourself?” He decided to be blunt. You seemed to enjoy it when he was.

“What? Me? Here?” Your reaction was almost comical, but his words still sent a jolt directly to your clit.

“Touch yourself. Yes, you. Right here.” He leaned forward to gently grasp your hand again, running his thumb along the back of it. “I’m a man of God. You’re safe with me if you need to release a little tension. I won’t tell a soul.”

“I…” You wet your lips, pressing your thighs even tighter together.

He kept his eyes on yours as he slowly guided your hand to the hem of your dress, pausing to see if you would stop him or protest. When you didn’t, he helped you pull the fabric up your thighs, glancing down when he saw a glimpse of bright fabric. “Blue lace, huh? I like it.”

All you did was stare into his eyes, letting him maneuver your hand underneath the practically sheer fabric. He pulled his hand out and just laid it on top of yours through the lace.

“Tell me your name.” He waited for you to stutter it out before repeating it, wrapping his lips around it sensually in a way no one ever had before. “I could moan that. Fuck, I’d like to hear you moan my name like a prayer.”

You couldn’t help yourself as your eyes fluttered shut and you began stroking over your clit, giving into the sensation that was begging you to touch yourself.

Max just kept his hand on top of yours, letting them move together, his eye flickering between your face and what you were doing between your legs. “Isn’t that better? What are you thinking about?”

“Your tongue.” You were too turned on to care, letting out a little moan when you opened your eyes and saw the way he was staring at you.

“And I didn’t even tell you the whole story!” He laughed, bringing his free hand down to playfully slap your thigh. “I bet you’d like to know what I did when my parents and their friends walked in, huh? Go ahead, ask me.”

“What did...what did you do?” You tried your best to focus on him, now letting him control the movements of your hand through your panties.

He shifted a bit so he could lean in closer to you, his eyes roaming from your face, down your neck, over your breasts, until they landed between your legs. “I fucked my tongue into her until she came all over herself in front of everyone.”

The whine you let out was exactly what he wanted and he chuckled when you tried to move your hand faster than he was allowing.

“Patience is a virtue. Do you want to feel my tongue?” He raised an eyebrow when you didn’t answer him at first, making you grind your fingers against your clit a little harder. “It’s okay to say yes.”

“Yes,” you gasped out and he smirked, pulling his hand away and taking hold of your wrist to make you stop touching yourself.

“Now, I know you learned patience. You’re such a stickler for rules, aren’t you?” He pulled your hand up to kiss your glistening fingers, letting his tongue poke out to kitten lick them every so often. “I want you to stand up for me. Take off your panties, go up and put them on the altar, then come back here. You’re gonna stand in front of me and take off your dress.”

Your chest was rising and falling slowly from your deep, steady breaths. You’d come to confess your sins, but it didn’t feel like a sin as you stood up and stepped out of your underwear.

You didn’t even realize how easily you were doing it until you’d approached the altar and set the bit of lace on it, turning around to make your way back to Max.

He was leaning back in the pew with his legs open wide, the bulge in his pants obvious when you came to practically stand between his knees.

You hesitated when your fingers came to the hem of your dress, realizing that you were going to be naked in front of this practical stranger in the middle of a church. It was both enticing and terrifying.

“Let me see. I’ve been staring at your tits since you walked in anyway.” He said it so casually it was somehow almost sexier than if he’d been flirtatious.

Hesitating for just a moment longer, you pulled your dress off before you could convince yourself not to, leaving yourself entirely bare. Max’s eyes darkened as he slowly looked over every visible inch of you.

You grew nervous when he didn’t say anything, shifting on your feet and biting your lip as you stared at the floor.

When he was still silent, you slowly looked up at him, fearing a look of disgust.

But you found him staring right at you with eyes full of lust and he slowly said, “I’d abandon the church for that.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say to something like that, just letting out a shaky breath as you felt yourself grow wetter.

“Sit down. Open your legs wide.” He stood up, waiting for you to take his place on the pew before he knelt between your legs. “Has anyone ever done this before?”

“No, Father. I only had sex once, when I was a teenager...and it wasn’t really good.” Your answer seemed to please him, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Call me Max,” he said simply, then leaned forward and started running his tongue along your folds.

Just feeling his tongue between your legs had you squirming and gasping, but he wasn’t paying attention to your clit yet. He’d dip his tongue right near it before skipping over it, pressing teasing little kisses against you.

Having never been eaten out before, you didn’t think to rush him or beg him; you were oversensitized from a lack of proper touch, so this was doing a lot for you.

He decided to be nice mostly for the purpose of rocking your world, and he started to flick at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

That had your hips lifting off the pew, a cry leaving your lips as he started tracing little circles over the sensitive area. “Oh, fuck, Max…”

He took hold of your thighs to pin you back down to the seat, pressing his tongue flat against you and dragging it slowly up over your clit. The movement had your jaw dropping open in pure ecstasy and the ensuing vibrations from his soft chuckle made you release a moan.

You’d never felt anything so amazing in your entire life even when you would give in and touch yourself, and you couldn’t believe how long you’d gone without feeling something this wonderful.

“Would you use your tongue inside me? Like the girl?” Your request earned you another slap to the thigh as Max pulled away, his lips shining.

“I gotta say, you know your manners!” He grinned, keeping his eyes on you as he leaned down and slowly began fucking into you with his tongue.

You were silent at first as the new sensation took over, before you let out a whine and started breathing a little shakily. “Oh, God!”

Max mumbled a reminder of what you could call him into your cunt, thrusting his tongue a little faster and nudging his nose against your clit.

He kept going at it until he felt your walls starting to flutter around his tongue and he pulled back, smirking at the almost hurt look on your face.

“You wanna see what good sex is like?” He cupped your face when you nodded, moving to kiss you passionately.

You kissed him back eagerly and stared at him dreamily as he pulled you to your feet, letting him turn you around. He guided you to bend over with your hands gripping the back of the pew, seeing that you were steady before he pulled back to admire your ass.

He ran a hand over the soft skin, undoing his pants with the other as he kept trailing down until he was stroking through your slit. “It hurt the first time, huh?”

“Yeah, and he...released his seed after a couple thrusts then left…” You admitted this with a bit of shame, pressing your fingers into the wood.

“Came. He came after a couple thrusts.” Your gentle way of putting it made him smirk, but he let out a moan when he pressed his tip to your wet folds. “This one’s not gonna hurt and you can bet your sweet ass that you’re gonna come first.”

“He came,” you repeated, eyes fluttering shut with a moan at the feeling of him starting to push into you; there was some pressure, but he was right about it not hurting like the other time.

“God, you’re tight…” He practically growled, going slow so you could adjust to the way he was stretching you open.

You folded your arms on the back of the pew and laid your head on them, breathing deeply as he pushed himself inside you as far as he could. He moved one hand to your right hip and the other stroked up your back.

“How’s that?” Your answer was a pitiful, little groan so he thrust his hips a little. “Come on. Use your words.”

“Good, but I feel like I want you to move…” It was so nice to feel full and you wanted friction to go with it.

“Then get back up.”

You forced yourself back up onto your hands and turned your head to look at him over your shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow, watching your eyes darken as he pulled out before quickly thrusting back into you. It was hard enough that you let out a yelp and were rocked forward a bit, having to tighten your grip on the pew so you didn’t face plant on it.

“Oh, God!” You cried, arching back into him.

“Okay, fine, you can call me that and Max.” He rolled his eyes playfully as he found a steady pace against you, loving the way you practically bounced with each thrust.

You were too gone to even acknowledge what he said, and he really didn’t mind since that meant he was turning you on. He slid a hand underneath you so he could rub at your clit, angling his thrusts to stroke over your G spot.

He was trying to keep it together, but you were sexy, and so wet, and so fucking into it that he couldn’t help the noises you were pulling out of him; every whine, every moan, was worth being able to fuck into your tight, wet pussy in the middle of the fucking church.

He could feel your walls fluttering around his cock already since you were so wound up in general and worked up from his mouth, and like hell he was gonna deny you this time.

The thought of you squeezing down on his cock encouraged him to move faster, the sound of his hips slapping into your ass echoing through the sanctuary.

“Max! I’m—I’m—” Your orgasm was too powerful for you to even warn him about, only able to let out a cry as you clenched tight around him.

“Holy shit.” He hissed at the way your cunt gripped him like a fucking vice, the way he felt you squirt all over yourself and his dick.

He could feel it dripping down your thighs and his, spurring him on further as he easily thrust into you.

The sound of your wet cunt filling the room was even better and he let himself get completely lost in you, grunting and whining at how good you felt.

“Oh, God. Oh, God!” Maybe he was doing that part a bit on purpose, but he had no choice but to let his hips lose their rhythm as he just focused on seeking out his orgasm. “Fuck. Tell me where to come, now.”

You didn’t answer at first as you were still coming down from your orgasm. He quickly started rubbing your sensitive clit again to grab your attention and you gasped, “Inside me, please.”

He wanted to fall to his knees and fucking worship you for that, leaning down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades before he stood up to drive into you desperately. It only took a few more thrusts before he was shoving himself into you as deeply as he could, letting out a loud, long groan as he spilled his load into you.

The two of you stayed like that for a second, both panting, both with your eyes shut tightly.

But Max still wanted to fall to his knees in worship.

He regrettably pulled out of you and moved to kneel down, holding onto your ass to keep you still as he leaned in, immediately lapping the mixture of his and your cum from your cunt.

You let out a whimper so pretty that he could’ve gotten hard again if it was possible. He just focused on cleaning you up with his tongue, licking into your cunt until he was satisfied with his work.

He enjoyed a good eyeful of your pussy and ass and decided he wanted to inspect you more in the future, moving to his feet.

“Your sins are absolved.” His words were followed by a slap to your ass before he tucked himself back into his pants.

You moaned and stood up fully, turning to see that he was holding your dress out to you. Part of you wanted to ask if that was it, craving more despite how much he’d just offered you, but you stayed silent and put your dress back on.

You walked up to the altar when he just stared at you, grabbing your panties off and moving to step into them. There was a tap on your shoulder before you could and you turned to face Max, who was now holding a collection plate and grinning mischievously.

“We’re collecting if you want to help the church. I, for one, would love to put those on my face later and jack off.”

You gaped at him for a moment before slowly smiling and laughing softly, dropping the lace into the collection plate. “I should probably go…”

He nodded, but put his free hand on the side of your face and guided you into a deep kiss, licking into your mouth with remnants of cum on his tongue. It made you moan and he was honestly fucking surprised you didn’t have your own cult of people begging to have you.

“Come back. Just ask for me.” He smirked at your dazed nod and kissed you again before slapping your ass, nudging you up the aisle.

You walked to the door with a bit of a gap between your thighs, finding that the door didn’t seem as heavy as before. You glanced at him over your shoulder before walking out and letting the oak shut behind you.

Max just smirked to himself and chuckled, both satisfied and proud. He looked to the side of the room when he heard a creak, smile not faltering in the slightest even as an older, enraged-looking priest stepped out of the confessional booth. “Hey, pops.”

“Father Phillips, this is unacceptable.” He was red in the face from anger or perhaps something else.

“Is that a crucifix in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Max’s jovial expression did twitch a little bit when the priest let out a growl, and he slowly slid back a step and took your underwear out of the collection plate. “She needed me, buddy! What was I supposed to do, let her walk around all wound up?”

“You weren’t supposed to fornicate with a parishioner in the middle of the fuck—” He immediately stopped his crass words when the other side of the confessional opened and out stepped a small, elderly woman.

Max had honestly forgotten she was in there, but raised his eyebrows in surprise when he noticed the way she was eyeing him.

It was probably the wink he sent her that took him from probably exiled to definitely exiled, based on the way the head priest cried,

“Get out!”

[corpsekiller]

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 — ����𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐢

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. gintoki sakata x genderneutral!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. angst with a happy ending, fluff at the end, fighting, cursing

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲. 𝗌ometimes, gintoki is insufferable and you can't help but fight with him to prove a point. this time however, you can't even remember the reason for your heated discussion and the only thing that keeps you from apologizing is your own stubbornness.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. i've been watching gintama for a while and it turned into my comfort anime, i just love it and gin just owns my heart now. so here's a little something i have written over the past few days during my study breaks. have a wonderful day and enjoy this short fic! 💕

𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 1.205 words

MASTERLIST

“You are a piece of shit!” Your words sting, he has to admit that, they really do, but Gintoki has never been one to back down from a challenge and that doesn’t except you and your venomous tongue, lethal and vile to push all the right buttons for a reaction, no matter how pissed he might act as a result. Even better, you want him to fight back. “I fucking despise you, Gintoki!”

However, Gin refuses to give in so easily. So, he only rolls his eyes with a bored expression etched into his face as if he doesn’t care about the biting insults you throw at him with a dangerous rasp in your voice.

He has done it a million times before, kept this unheeding act up for years now, but something about your ferocious attitude seems to break his usually so composed demeanor and gnaws at his heart. Harsh words can hurt even the toughest samurai.

“Yeah? Well, I hate you too,” he sneers, all cold and unimpressed before he moves to sit on the couch instead, seemingly far more interested in the pack of strawberry milk sitting next to an open Jump magazine, the one you got him this morning as a pleasant surprise.

The kind smile you offered him while you handed him breakfast and your gift feels like a distant memory now, distorted and faded and currently replaced by deadly anger flashing through your eyes, glaring at the back of his head.

"Then maybe... Maybe we should part ways if the feeling is mutual." You regret the words as soon as they tumble from your lips, scowl disappearing within seconds when you realize the gravity behind each syllable and the hidden threat of fulfilling your statement that begins to sink heavy in your stomach. You didn't mean it, of course not, nothing could ever make you leave Gin's side — neither in this life nor another.

"Sounds like a good idea." He doesn't bother to look at you, keeps his voice surprisingly steady, and manages to hide his hands before you notice how his fingers tremble at your last offer. His heart pounds hard and fast against his ribcage, painfully afraid that you meant it this time. What if you do?

"Fine!" Tears blur your vision and you hastily blink them away, too prideful to show how hurt you are by his disinterest, too distracted with your own thoughts to notice the sheer panic coursing through every cell of his being like a wave crashing against cliffs, violent and untamable and dissipating before you can catch a glimpse of his weakness.

what if what if what if—

Yet, neither of you leaves. You're not quite sure why, perhaps it's the fierce stubbornness you both share that forces you to take a few steps around the table and drop into the cushions of the couch right next to him with an exasperated huff and just enough distance to emphasize how pissed you really are, though he doesn’t pay much attention to you anyway. Instead, he calmly slurps his strawberry milk and indulges in the open pages of his stupid magazine.

Ignorant asshole.

For a while, you sit in deadly silence. It's almost embarrassing how your eyes seem to be drawn to him, to his silver curls and his dark gaze set on the Shonen Jump in his calloused hands, desperately trying to figure out what exactly is going on inside his head in this exact minute.

Unreadable — that's what he's always been in some way, always hiding, always withdrawn, always putting on this fucking act of carelessness, but now you aren't even sure if it was all an act or if he truly doesn't care about you.

A sharp exhale leaves your lips as you study his face with narrowed eyes, perhaps even admiring him from afar. You wouldn't admit that though. Slowly, you let your eyes wander to his magazine, fingertips nervously fiddling with the corner of the page he is currently reading.

Tremors run through his scarred hands, right when you decide to turn away. It makes you hesitate, just long enough to catch the spark of bitter regret and sorrow glinting in his eyes before he lifts his gaze to look at you and the sentiment disappears again behind a veil of boredom you want to punch right through.

Time seems to stop. Just for a minute as Gin stares at you, tries to say something, form a single thought, but that is seemingly impossible at the sight of hurt etched into your beautiful features, cheeks flushed with anger and your lips pulled into a cute little frown that makes him want to squish your face between the palms of his hands and kiss it all away.

He's an idiot. You know he is and maybe that's one of the reasons you love him so much, even when you're sitting right next to him and pretend to be upset. Maybe, you're an idiot too — you can't even remember the reason for your stupid fight and the only thing that holds you back from apologizing and falling into his arms is your own pride and your stubbornness.

“Come on, let's get you some sweets.” Your voice is surprisingly warm, warm and so gentle without any trace of anger drenching your words like before. His gaze lands on your hand, open and patiently waiting for him to take your offer and though he’s still surprised, still a little suspicious and weary that you might slam him to the ground and break his nose with a strong punch, the look in your eyes tells him you mean it.

A gentle smile crosses his lips as he intertwines his fingers with yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand in the process.

“You won’t kill me, right?” He nudges your foot playfully and raises an eyebrow, apparently satisfied with the shake of your head as a reply to his question. “So you're not mad anymore. Took you long enough.” With a tug on your arm, he pulls you into his lap, swiftly grabbing your hips and securing you on his thighs before you fall to the floor and hurt yourself. 

“Careful there, or I might change my mind,” you giggle and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent to calm your fragile little heart beating heavily behind your ribs. His hands glide over your waist and wander to your thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze before drawing calming circles over the fabric of your clothes. "You know, I didn't mean a single word I said."

"I know, sweetheart." Gintoki presses a chaste kiss to your temple and chuckles lowly. "I'm sorry for upsetting you." The apology is muttered into your hair, almost inaudible and a part of him hopes that you still catch it, because he doesn't show remorse often. You do.

"I'm sorry too, Gin." Closing your eyes, you cuddle further into his chest and his arms engulf you as he tightens his hold in you, feels you melt against his body with a stuttering heart and heat punching through his skin.

Everything is okay again.

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

All your fault [Sirius Black x Reader] - Requested

Title: All your fault Pairing: Sirius Black x Gryffindor!Reader Word count: 1.9k Published: 16 February, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: Sirius’ boredom causes you to end up in detention. Or so you think, but he has a different perspective on the events and you clearly can’t find the golden middle. Request: [x] I have combined two requests. One from Tumblr and one from Wattpad. I took the liberty to change some things, but overall it’s the same. 

“Hey Talented! Could you write a Sirius x Gryffindor!reader where the reader is jock with intense emotions and a chaser in Quidditch team? Also Is exceptionally talented at DADA and that make sirius jealous and turned-on too? please?” - @marauders-hogwarts​​ 

“Hey, I was just reading your marauders x reader one shots and I had an idea for one. Could you pls make one where Sirius gets into an argument with you and at the end grabs your hand to turn you around and abruptly smashes his lips against yours and asks you to be his girl. And the next day he comes up to you and tell you that ther is something wrong with your hand untill he picks it up and puts his own hand in yours and says that's better. Please? Thanks so much. I am a huge fan of your work.” - @Tamarakyra [Wattpad]

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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Sirius Black had never been one to question things. He was very stubborn much to his professors’ dismay. Doing what he wanted regardless of consequences has become his personal motto. Swaying him seemed impossible, he always knew what he wanted, how he wanted it and when he wanted it.

However, on a rainy dull Saturday afternoon as he was watching you up in the air, flying across the quidditch pitch on your broomstick, your hair flat against your face, your uniform drenched in water, your eyes covered with a pair of goggles, something has changed within him. For a mere moment he felt as if time had stopped as you screamed at James for not being able to catch the snitch and win against Ravenclaw. His eyes focused only on you, even forgetting about the ongoing match.

The way you sat on your broomstick leaning forward to speed up, the way you tucked the quaffle under your arm and secured it, the sheer amount of energy you projected and the bold tone you used against his best friend all hit him right in the chest, forcing him to fall back onto the bench of the bleachers. He didn’t know where his sudden feelings came from, but the unexpected warmness filling him up from the inside made him smile at the simple sight of you. From then on, he knew the friendship you had has become more on his side.

You sat right beside Sirius at Defence Against the Dark Arts, doodling on the parchment in front of you as he kept nudging you, trying to get your attention.

“What now?” you asked for the 10th time in the past 10 minutes. “Perhaps you could focus more on the lesson. You need it more than I do,” you hissed angrily, feeling fed up with his childish behaviour.

“I’m bored,” he whined in a silent whisper.

“I can see that,” you scoffed as you drew another random pattern on your paper. Closing out the lesson, you focused completely on your drawing, finding it more interesting than whatever your professor was talking about. That was until Sirius started nudging you again.

“What now?” you hissed in anger, slightly raising your voice, but you quickly silenced yourself as you looked around, every pair of eyes focusing on you, including your professor’s. “I’m so sorry,” you apologised, hunching your back, trying to hide away from embarrassment.

“Since you have already graced us with your attention, why don’t you answer the question?” he asked in a pompous tone, clearly trying to make you feel even more awkward. However, as the new teacher, he couldn’t have known about your exceptional knowledge and talent on the subject. It took you a good second to recall the memory from the darkest and deepest part of your mind, before you were ready to answer.

“The Tongue-tying curse prevents people from being able to form a coherent sentence, therefore stopping them from being able to incantate further spells. Although Langlock its sibling curse also prevents people from being able to speak, in this spell’s case the tongue sticks to the roof of the mouth, whilst when using Silencio it causes the victim to be temporarily muted,” you explained proudly. The professor didn’t compliment you, nor did he scold you. He offered you a deadpan expression and cleared his throat.

Sirius snickered beside you with a proud grin across his face, knowing the professor didn’t expect your reply. Years ago, he would have told you off for being a know it all, but now he found it comical. He didn’t know if it was because his feelings had changed or because it was you who did it, but in the end it didn’t matter. You could have done anything and he would have supported you like a loyal puppy. At times he couldn’t even believe how easily affected he was by you.

“Khm- smartass,” you heard a cough from the side as Evan Rosier was trying to cover his words in an obvious manner. You were not one to let others walk over you nor did you plan to be one in that moment. You felt anger bubbling up inside you, the boy’s mere presence irritating you.

“Let me show the spell in practice, professor,” you grinned proudly as he turned around with a shocked expression across his face, ready to stop you in mid-spell. However, he was slower than he wished to be and before he could have said anything, the word left your lips. “Silencio,” you lifted your hand and pointed your wand at the boy, watching as he grabbed his throat, desperately trying to speak, gaping like a fish, but no words leaving his mouth.

Sirius watched as the scenario unfolded in front of him. His initial surprise quickly disappeared as he saw a smirk appear across your face, pure pride taking over your stance. He always admired your can-do attitude and bold personality, possibly one of the reasons you have been such good friends. He wasn’t lacking any of those personality traits, but when he saw you standing up for yourself, being strong and independent, it just drove him crazy. It made him feel like there was an invisible string between the two of you, pulling him closer and closer to you.

Since he realised his own feelings for you, he was watching every little move of yours, trying to protect you from everything and anything that could possibly hurt you. But before he could ever intervene and show you how much he cared for you, you took care of it, proving once again how independent you were. He didn’t mind though, he loved the strength you harboured, he just wished to be able to show you that you could rely on him.

You watched as the professor rushed up to Rosier, pulling his wand out of the inner pocket of his robe and quickly using the counter spell on him, before rushing up to your table, his index finger pointing right between your eyes. “Detention! How dare you? Detention after classes!” he shouted at you, veins popping on the side of his neck and temple, his face turning red in anger. If he had time, he would have probably embarrassed you in front of the whole class, but as the bell rang, indicating the end of your class, he had no choice, but to let you go.

Quickly collecting your belongings, you hurried out of the classroom with Sirius right behind you, calling your name relentlessly as you were about to cross the Courtyard.

“What do you want?” you asked angrily as you halted. You didn’t want to sound rude, being around Sirius was the highlight of your day, but at that moment he was a pain in your backside.

“Woah, calm down,” he gestured with his hands, but if anything, it made you angrier.

“Calm down? Calm down? It was all your fault to begin with. If you didn’t nag me about being bored, I would have kept drawing and kept my mouth shut. But you just couldn’t find anything better to do so you decided to get on my nerves and now of course it’s me who has to go to detention,” you rambled, annoyed, trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself.

“Okay, I accept that I was nagging you, but I didn’t curse my classmate,” he scoffed with a hidden smile in the corner of his lips.

“It’s not funny! If you didn’t nag me, the professor wouldn’t have questioned me, which means Rosier would have never insulted me, hence the reason you are at fault,” you groaned as you turned around and started walking away.

“Hey, stop already,” he whined, but you didn’t halt your steps, if anything, you sped up. “I’m sorry,” he tried to break the ice, but it seemed to just fire you up even more. You turned on your heel, stopping right in front of the boy.

“Sorry? That’s it? You just have to say sorry and I’m supposed to forget about it?” you scoffed in disbelief. “You must be joking,” you looked up at him in clear astonishment, but after seemingly waiting for an eternity Sirius still didn’t reply.

He wanted to, he was about to defend himself, but as he watched you getting worked up about such a minor issue, at least minor for him, he could only think about how adorable you looked when you were upset. Not that he ever wanted to see you angry or sad, but for some reason it just caught his eyes that instead of being threatening, you seemed as if you were slightly pouting.

You groaned, annoyed as the silence grew between the two of you and a small smile started appearing on Sirius’ face. “I hate you!” you shouted at him as you left him behind, stomping across the Courtyard, heavy and loud steps following you.

“Do you?” he shouted after you, silently chuckling, finding your behaviour quite funny and somewhat cute.

“I do!” you replied sulking, your steps becoming quicker.

Sirius couldn’t just let you walk away, he jogged after you and grabbed your wrist, halting your steps, pulling you back against his chest. For a second even the air stuck in your lungs as you realised how close you were to him, his breath fanning your face, his pink lips almost touching yours. You were completely engulfed by his aura, his warm hold on your wrist sending shivers through your body as his other arm sneaked around your waist.

You could swear he felt your dangerously racing heart against his chest, your lips quivering in anticipation, wanting nothing but to feel his mouth on yours. As if he could read your mind, he leaned closer and closed the gap between the two of you, kissing you slowly, sensually. You expected him to be slightly aggressive, maybe dominating, but his kiss was more passionate, gentle instead, causing you a delightful surprise.

“Why?” you breathed against his lips as you parted, your eyes still closed, completely lost in the moment.

“Because I wanted to do it for a long time,” he whispered.

“Why would you?” you chuckled awkwardly. He was always your closest friend and now that you kissed, knowing the friendship you have had was gone, you didn’t know what to do.

“Do I really need to say it?” he scratched the back of his neck, pulling a face, feeling embarrassed about the words you waited for so impatiently.

“If you don’t say it out loud, how do you expect me to understand?” you questioned, and Sirius knew how right you were.

“I- khm,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I- I have liked you for a while,” his words were silent and unsure, making you question it.

“Are you sure?” you asked, making him feel even more awkward.

“Of course, I’m,” he groaned, slightly sulking. “It’s just not easy to say.”

“Is it easier if I say I like you too?” you giggled happily, watching as his embarrassed expression slowly changed into a proud grin.

“I knew it, I felt it,” he chuckled happily, earning a deadpan look from you as you slapped his chest gently, before your lips curved into a small smile.

“Right, you did,” you scoffed as you peeled his hands off you and started walking to your next class with a hidden smile in the corner of your lips.

“Wait, wait,” he called after you as he tried to catch up to you.

“What now?” you asked, rolling your eyes as Sirius joined beside you.

“There’s something wrong with your hand,” he stated with a deep frown. You looked down at your hand, lifting it up, looking at it curiously, turning it up and down, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“What do you mean? It seems alright to me,” you replied in confusion, but you couldn’t take a closer look at it as Sirius took it in his hand, interlocking your fingers.

“Now, it’s better,” he grinned playfully, making you giggle.

“Sirius Orion Black, you have a horrible sense of humour,” you scoffed, but you couldn’t fool him. He knew his little joke made you happy and even if it didn’t, the warm feeling of each other's touch, your small hands engulfed by his big palm made up for his silly joke.

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Harry Potter - Sirius Black taglist:

@msmb​ @aspiringsloth20​ 

[undercover-trio]

De request

Hi! Could I ask for HCs for jealous Team RWBY + Nora (or only team rwby if it's too much) with a flirty and popular female reader? Where reader is popular with girls.

———

Yus you can, also sorry for the wait, I had to take a small break from writing

I be tired

Also don’t mind I listed the type of popular I wanted the reader to be for each girl.

Sorry for any spelling errors

(￣▽￣)ノ

-Mod Penji

[Brackets]=Messages

———————————————————-

Ruby

-Heroic popular

It wasn’t really a mystery why you were popular with girls, after all, you had this righteous charisma to you. Ruby noticed how many situations this got you into.

Ruby was laying on her bed, patiently waiting for a reply back from you.

My precious rose

[You there Y/N/N?]

Miss Hero

[Sorry for the wait Ruby, I just got back from piggybacking this girl to the infirmary]

My precious rose

[That’s cool of you!!]

Miss Hero

[After I brought Zwei down from a tree, guarded Velvet from CRDL -I made sure to report them- helped this girl find her purse and saved Doctor Oobleck’s spiked coffee from falling]

My precious rose

[(°◇°;) ]

She didn’t mind when people came back to show gratitude in the slightest!

Ruby saw you down the hallways, there was a girl in front of you, she heard what you guys were saying so there was no need to be jealous.

“Hey Y/N, I just want to say thanks for the other day, you really helped out with moving the speakers.” The girl thanked, Ruby swelled with pride.

“It’s no problem, if you ever need help just I’m willing to be there.” And with that you two went your separate ways.

Those interactions she was fine with.

What gets to her is those girls who look for more, not to mention you’re rather oblivious when it comes to your complimenting style.

Ruby and you were walking down the hall together when this girl came up to the both of you, more specifically you.

“Hey Y/N, thanks for piggybacking me the other day, that was really nice of you.” She started, Ruby immediately didn’t like the way the girl was blushing.

“It’s no problem, as cute as you looked in those heels I don’t recommend wearing them again.” You complimented and advised her, not noticing how her blush got even deeper.

Ruby did though.

Yet she knows that you’d drop anything for her, all it takes for you to notice is her looking down.

The girl, her name didn’t matter, in Ruby’s not so humble opinion. She started following you guys to your next class, insinuating it was on the way to her’s.

And with that you two kept talking, Ruby started feeling a little left out and sad. To let you know she bumped into your side, after that she sped ahead.

“What’s up with her?” The girl asked with a bitter tone. You merely smiled in Ruby’s direction.

“Sorry but I have to go catch up with my girlfriend.”

And with that, the girl was left alone in the hallway.

You dedicate anything you can to cheering her up, she was slightly flustered about this at first but now just enjoys how you are.

Ruby sat rather glum in her seat, it was her final class of the day and that whole girl thing just left her with a bad attitude. She would’ve acted like a bitter child in her dorm but here you were.

“Ruby, would you like to go to the bakery with me? And maybe play some Kung fu ninja slayer ultimate death battle? The second one isn’t as good.”

Ruby smiled at your actions and quickly hugged you as you both headed to the bakery.

————-

Weiss

-Cinnamon roll popular

Weiss wouldn’t be exaggerating if she said she had a literal ball of sunshine as a girlfriend

“Weiss~ get upppp.” Weiss felt someone’s fingers brushing through her hair, the action made her want to sleep more. Of course she knew only one person who could accidentally make their work harder.

“Good morning Y/N.” She gave a slight smile, still a little drowsy from just waking up. She thought she woke up at a decent time, her new alarm clock being way more pleasant to wake up to than her old one.

You gave her your signature cinnamon roll smile and her morning got exponentially better.

Unfortunately your cheerfulness attracted unwanted attention, you simply thought you made more friends but Weiss saw the looks in their eyes

You were putting your weapons in your locker when you heard someone calling out your nickname in the distance.

“Sunshine!” You looked to see there being 4 older girls, the leader being the redhead named Stella. You quickly shuffled over to them, looking quite cute given you had a lot of big textbooks in your arms.

She understood them, you were just so...cute when you spoke. You genuinely tried to keep up and pay attention with everyone.

“Stell, what’d I say about that name!!” You huffed with a pout, the older girl merely gave a teasing smile as the girls behind her looked at you with interest.

“Sorry cupcake-“ you squaked at the name. “But my team just wanted to meet you, like a lot.” She exaggerated with big hand movements making you giggle, the girls behind her looked embarrassed.

“It’s okay! I wanted to meet them lots too!” You gave them a bright smile, they all looked at Stella with disbelief in their eyes.

“How is she so sweet???”

“I don’t even know.”

You didn’t hear their conversation but took a quick glance at the clock and bid them goodbye.

She supposed she could be considered a sort of knight in a way, just instead of an honorable battle there are threats and grimm(see what I did there?) promises

Weiss saw that whole interaction, her fist gripped hard around Myrtenaster. She observed Stella stay behind while the other girls left, that’s when she decided to strike.

With a slam, Stella got startled at the sound and looked back to stare into cold blue eyes. She shivered at the intensity in them, Weiss perfected the Schnee intimidation expression.

“I’m not going to listen to a single rebuttal, you stay away from Y/N, don’t look at her, don’t even breathe the same air as her. If you do I swear I will gut you like a turkey.”

Stella merely nodded, her being beyond intimidated. And with that Weiss left the locker room to join up with you.

When she did, you smiled at her, completely clueless to what she just did.

————-

Blake

-Teasing/smooth talker popular

Blake wouldn’t call herself possessive, she knew from past relationships how that could go. Yet she couldn’t help but notice the sheer amount of girls with an interest in you.

You had walked away from Blake’s dorm after telling her good morning, she left her door slightly cracked open on accident. As she went to fix it she balked at the amount of girls she saw following after you in the distance.

“What…..?”

She honestly couldn’t blame them, you were pretty suave, another main thing that she knew contributed to your popularity.

A girl who was part of the group following you had tripped in the crowd. She closed her eyes preparing for a rough fall yet she didn’t feel it.

“Are you okay dear?” Your smooth voice asked. The girl blushed, your arm was around her waist as you asked this.

She could speak so she nodded causing you to give an amused and slightly teasing smile. You leaned into the crook of her neck.

“Be more careful next time chéri.” Your lips were right next to her ear, then suddenly you left. Leaving behind an embarrassed puddle of a girl.

She wouldn’t notice, much to your amusement, that she would get more clingy and needy.

“Hey kitten, I have to head to Miss Goodwitch’s class, I’ll be back in a bit.” You informed her as you were ready to leave the room.

“Wait, it’s a little chilly so wear this.” She handed you her favorite black hoodie, on the chest it had her initials, white and in cursive. The sleeves and hood were white so you’d have to be a bit careful.

You merely stared at it for a bit in amusement before chuckling and putting it on.

“Thank you dear, I’ll be back soon.” You smiled as you gave her a kiss, not even mentioning the fact it wasn’t even chilly.

A perfect example of an extremely jealous Blake Belladonna would have to be that one time she was waiting for you in professor Port’s classroom.

It seemed the hoodie wasn’t enough to drive some girls off, here you were, leaning against a hallways wall. In front of you was a timid looking girl, she looked the slightest bit like a squirrel, cute but you preferred cats.

“May I help you?” You asked, you looked to the side, you just wanted to be with Blake right now.

“E-erm yes! I was just wondering if you..me ...date..” She trailed off in the end but it was clear to you she asked. You gave her an apologetic smile.

“Sorry but-“ Before you could finish your sentence Blake came with her arms wrapped around you from behind.

“Y/N/N, who is this?” She asked as her head rested on your shoulder. You gave a wry grin at her behavior.

“This is-“

“I’m no one, sorry for bothering you girls!!” She squeaked out as she bolted away.

You didn’t even have to look at Blake to know what she did. She was pretty scary when she glared.

“Is my kitten jealous?” You teased, she merely gave you a slight glare before burying her head further into your shoulder. You grinned at this knowing it was a yes.

————-

Yang

-Chill popular

At first Yang would compete with you each day over who got more love letters, she thought it was pretty funny. At least until you two started dating.

Yang felt her eyes twitch as she saw the love letters fall out of your locker. She knew from experience that some would hint about you two breaking up, most didn’t even have names she could hunt down. It still frustrated her after you two made quite the public announcement about your relationship.

She did not jump onto a lunch table with a speaker for nothing.

You hummed at the letters and put them back in your locker.

This is usually the cause for Yang’s jealousy.

During times when your charm was reaching high levels Yang vowed to always be close to you, no matter where.

Yang and you were standing in front of the vending machine in the cafeteria, you were messing with team JOCK as you got your soda. Yang was fairly involved in the conversation, after all even she could admit that Vacuo’s team was treated unfairly in the final match.

Atlas Aristocrats, that was literally the team name, quite obviously bribed the referee. I mean seriously, Atlas people don’t even like football!!

Now that that’s out of the way, she kept her eyes glued on team JEWL(Jewel). She knew they wanted to join in, yet her glare kept them away. Needless to say even she was surprised at how charming you were today as you leaned and whispered in her ear.

“Ready to eat?” You asked with a dorky smile. She nodded and threw her arm over your shoulders, ignoring the blush she got from your action.

It was basically forbidden to ask about Yang’s small notebook, it could literally fit in her pocket.

Yang could feel you staring at her notebook, she knew you wouldn’t ask though. You were respectful like that, so she didn’t have to worry about you seeing her add Team JEWL’s names to it.

“Yang?”

“Wassup?” She asked with her signature smile.

“Ice cream?” She immediately knew what you meant, putting her notebook in her pocket she got ready to take you on Bumblebee to get some ice cream.

Yet every time she crossed something out she looked pretty achieved, and simultaneously a girl would stop obsessing over you

Yang felt pretty proud of herself, she managed to have another girl get the hint. You were taken by a hot blonde bombshell, with smug proudness she crossed out the name.

Suddenly she felt someone hug her from behind.

“Yang, while I am happy you’re making people get the memo I’d rather it be in a way you don’t get detention.” You nonchalantly teased her, she laughed knowing she was caught.

“Sorry Y/N/N~ but aye on the bright side…” Her brain failed her at this moment.

“On the bright side?”

“Uh- it’s bright?”

You snorted at her stupid remark

“Yeah it sure is my jealous bombshell.”

————

[jilyyall]

Everything Has Changed

One evening on the shore of the Black Lake as they bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun, everything changed. Or, the first ‘I love you.’

They hadn’t been officially dating very long, but they’d shared a few snogs before they started dating – if just about every day since the beginning of the school year counted as a few snogs –  and they had been open and frank about their feelings for each other for weeks before they’d made it official, and she’d known him since they were eleven, so when James was silent all day, Lily knew something was on his mind. She didn’t think he was upset with her; it wasn’t an angry silence. It wasn’t as if he was trying to hurt her feelings or punish her by not speaking to her. That wasn’t something that James would do – it was what Sev would have done, back when they were friends and he thought she had done something wrong and was trying to guilt her into apologizing to him.

Rather, she got the distinct impression that he was wrestling with something in his mind, taking his time mulling it over. It was so rare that he took the time to think things through rather than diving in head first that she let him have the day, the whole damn day, even though it drove her mad. She would even let him have the night, if she thought he still needed it. Tomorrow, however, all bets were off. Her boy was going to get this off his chest, whatever this was.

They were in the Great Hall having dinner quite early tonight, their two separate friend groups sitting near each other, but not entirely together – James sat on Lily’s right, and his friends sat to his right with only Sirius sitting across the table from Remus, two bodies down from James. On Lily’s left sat her friends Mary and Dorcas. The only indication that the two groups were at all connected was how close Lily and James were sitting, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, knees knocking, feet tangled beneath the table, even as they turned their heads away from each other to focus on their respective friends.

If he were physically distant, she thought, then she would have worried because anyone who knew anything about James Potter knew that he could not keep his distance from the people he cared about. Be it an arm slung over a mate’s shoulders, fingers threaded with hers or carding through her hair or dancing down her arm or brushing down her side, or the simple disregard for personal space, the boy was incapable of not showing physical affection. She doubted the idea of not touching her or Sirius or Remus or Peter at any given time ever even crossed his mind.

Not ten minutes ago, for instance, he’d walked in with his mates, a dejected Peter tucked under his arm, spotted her seated at the table and sat all but on top of her with nothing more than a graze of his lips to the side of her head in greeting as he continued to devote his sympathetic attention to Peter’s woeful tale of rejection. He’d even had to pull his place setting over in order to maintain his proximity to her. So, no, she didn’t have cause to worry that he was upset with her, or contemplating ditching her or anything of the sort.

Still, she was having a difficult time concentrating on Mary’s story about the Muggle boy her mum wanted to set her up with back home. Instead, she was wondering what exactly could be taking up so much space in James’s head. Currently, she knew, it was Peter’s heartbreak. She tried not to be very obvious as she studied him; none of the boys were paying her any attention. She could hear James’s soft, earnest, comforting tone as he spoke to Peter, told him not to worry about Melinda Sprockett, the pretty sixth year Ravenclaw girl who must have turned him down earlier. It should have comforted her to know that James wasn’t being quiet with everyone. It only made her more concerned that he seemed to be holding something back from her.

“Right, Lily?” Mary said loudly.

Lily snapped her gaze to her friends, embarrassed to have been caught not paying attention. “Er, yeah, of course!”

“I told you she wasn’t listening,” Dorcas giggled as Mary rolled her eyes.

“Yes, I was!” Lily insisted, but she knew she was arguing in vain. She had been caught out, but she wasn’t going to just admit it.

Dorcas wanted to drag it out - Lily could tell by the smirk on her face and the mischief in her eyes - but Mary, sweet, sweet Mary, took pity on her. “I was saying it might not be such a bad thing, you know? There’s obviously nothing wrong with Muggles on the whole - I am Muggleborn; it would just be stressful trying to keep magic a secret.” 

“But do you even want to date him?” Lily asked. 

Mary shrugged. “Well, he’s cute enough, I guess. But I don’t even know anything about him.” 

“Well, it may not be a terrible thing to just have some fun getting to know him; then you can decide if he’s worth potentially breaking the Statute of Secrecy for,” Dorcas said around a mouthful of Yorkshire Pudding. 

“Certainly it’s not really breaking the Statute of Secrecy?” Mary said, looking shocked at the thought. “If you fall in love with a Muggle, there’s got to be some sort of bylaw that says you’re allowed to tell them. Just like the Ministry told our parents about it when we got our Hogwarts letters.” 

Mary looked at Lily as if expecting her to argue with her or confirm that surely it wasn’t illegal, but Lily simply didn’t know. She’d never dated a Muggle.

“You’re probably right,” Dorcas hummed and lifted a shoulder. “I really don’t know much about it, honestly.” 

James’s fingers tangled gently in Lily’s hair and she glanced over at him, distracted, expecting it to have been an unconscious thing he did while still deeply invested in his own mates. She was surprised to find him staring at her, eyes soft and warm and glowing with something akin to awe behind his glasses. There was a small, fond smile on his lips as he let his hand fall from her hair to twine his fingers with hers. 

“D’you want to go for a walk?” he murmured. 

“Sure,” she said, and was about to stand and eagerly lead him away when she noticed the plate in front of him. Before she could say anything else, he was standing and gently pulling her to her feet. “But you’ve hardly touched your dinner.”

He shrugged and began to lead her towards the wide doorway.

Their friends watched them go without a word. Despite the fact that they had both been at least somewhat involved in conversation, there were no protests from either the boys or the girls. Though she hadn’t said anything, she knew the girls were aware that something was on her mind and she suspected that the boys knew much more than she did about what was going on with James.

“I’m not hungry,” he told her.

“What?” Lily couldn’t honestly remember a time James had turned down food when he wasn’t deathly ill or on the brink of collapsing from sheer exhaustion. 

As if reading her mind, he gave her a look as they reached the Entrance Hall and headed out onto the grounds. “I’ll go to the kitchens if I get hungry later. It’s not a big deal.”

Lily let it go, but she still found it rather odd until she noticed how jittery he was. James was never one to sit still, was in constant motion be it a bouncing leg in class or long slender fingers tapping the desk during Prefects’ meetings. But this was a bit more than usual, she thought to herself as she watched him drag his hand through his hair for the fifth time since they’d walked outside. His head was swiveling this way and that and Lily would have worried he was looking for a getaway were his hand not so steady and secure in hers. 

She realized as he gnawed on his bottom lip that he was nervous and despite the fact that she had been so convinced all day that he wasn’t planning on ditching her, ignoring the warm, fond look he’d given her just moments before, Lily suddenly felt herself growing paranoid. What in the world could possibly have James Potter feeling nervous around her? Unless he was planning to break up with her. Or had some other likewise bad news to share.

There weren’t very many people out; it was that time of year where it was beginning to get cold out and the sun was just starting to sink beneath the tree line of the Forbidden Forest so most of the student body was inside. 

James led her over towards the Black Lake, and Lily watched him closely as he cheerfully greeted Martin Greene, his fellow Gryffindor Chaser, who was on his way up from the greenhouses. He didn’t seem nervous as he promised to see the younger boy at their early morning practice the next day, but his hand immediately jumped to his hair when Martin was gone. 

“You’ve been quiet today,” Lily said softly, bumping her hip against his gently as they ambled along the shore of the lake. They had made about a half-circuit by the time she spoke. 

James hummed, and she saw him nod out of the corner of her eye. 

“A lot on your mind?” she asked. She had told herself he could have as much time to process his thoughts as he needed, but he’d invited her on this walk, hadn’t he? He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t want to talk to her. 

“Yeah, I guess.” He sighed, and his thumb stroked along the back of her hand. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to be pensive sometimes,” she assured him. Then that awful nagging worry struck again. What if she was reading all the signs wrong? What if his hand in hers wasn’t a sign that everything was fine after all? “As long as you’re not trying to ditch me.” 

She tried to make it sound like a joke, but she knew she failed when he halted in his tracks and pulled her around to face him. His eyes were wide behind his glasses and his jaw dropped as if nothing had ever shocked him more than that one suggestion.

“What?” he said, still gawking at her. Then, “What?”

“I was only joking,” she lied weakly.

Though his shock had done more to assuage her sudden worry than anything she imagined he might say, she still felt oddly vulnerable. Ever since she had accepted her feelings for him at the end of Sixth Year, she wasn’t used to feeling off-kilter around him. Even before they were officially dating, when they were in that odd will-they won’t-they limbo, she hadn’t felt nearly so uncertain than in that moment.

When she tried to turn away to keep things light, he held her there by the hand, once more turning her to face him. His free hand lifted, stroking her face, cupping her cheek as he stepped closer and peered down at her, that same awed look as before mixing with the confusion. 

“Lily,” he breathed, then shook his head as a bemused smile played on his lips. “Honestly, that’s the farthest thing from my mind. That’s the last thing I would ever do.”

She didn’t try to convince him she was joking, not again, not knowing that he could see right through her. Instead she bit her lip and tried to duck her head, but his nimble fingers on her cheeks kept her eyes on his. She felt her face flush, and she sighed. 

“I’m mad for you, Lily,” he mumbled, and brushed his lips gently over hers. 

“I feel the same about you,” she whispered, but she realized quite suddenly that maybe it was a bit more than that, actually. Maybe she a bit more than fancied the boy before her, judging by the way his silence had nagged at her all day until it had her on the edge of panic, fearing the worst even though she knew, logically, that her fear was unfounded. 

And since when had being single again been the worst possible outcome her brain could conjure? It had only been a few weeks and already she couldn’t imagine her life without James Potter taking up so much space in it. 

He smiled at her soft admission and then let go of her hand to bury both of his in her thick auburn hair. He kissed her, gently again, but much more solidly than a mere brush of his lips to hers. His mouth fit perfectly over hers, moving overs once, twice, thrice, before he tilted his head and deepened the kiss. 

A piercing wolf-whistle broke them apart after what may have been several minutes and they looked across the lake towards the castle to find their friends, his blokes and her girls, gathered near what was widely considered the best tree due to its full foliage and location mere steps from the shore of the lake. It was fairly obvious who had made the obtrusive sound as Dorcas was currently hitting Sirius’s arm none-too-gently. 

Lily looked up at James, surprised to find him looking somewhat disappointed by the arrival of their friends. She couldn’t recall ever seeing him anything less than thrilled to be reunited with his boys regardless of how brief their separation. 

“Shall we?” she asked when he met her gaze. 

He sighed, and his hands trailed slowly down her arms until their fingers were linked once more. “I suppose.” 

They continued on their course, not bothering to speed up despite Sirius’s distant and persistent urging. James tugged her to a halt again just as they were about to round the last little curve of the shoreline, mere meters from their friends. 

She peered up at him, mesmerized by the way the orange glow of the setting sun bathed him. He looked unreal; he looked perfect; he looked like a figment of her wildest dreams.

“I am sorry for worrying you today,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to be distant. I was just… thinking about something.” 

“It’s okay,” she told him again. “I didn’t actually think you were going to ditch me all day. I don’t know why I suddenly got afraid of that.” 

He smiled at her, and there was a slightly manic look to the way his lips curved up. “It’s just that… I got myself all worked up and nervous over it.” 

She laughed at him because, well, she’d already realized that, hadn’t she? Almost as soon as they’d left the Great Hall he’d made it obvious how nervous he was. As he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her just a little bit closer, his expression dead serious, she suddenly realized why he was so nervous. And it was so obvious as well, wasn’t it? Hadn’t she all but come to the conclusion for herself mere moments before? Her breath hitched as he opened his mouth. 

Suddenly, the wild Gryffindor in her wanted nothing more than to beat him to the punch. The softer, more caring part of her recognized that he had been struggling to work himself up to this all day and she had only had a few minutes of the realization, and she couldn’t take that from him. So, she smiled up at him and waited. 

He was quiet for another second, then took a deep breath, and on a sharp exhale said, “I love you.”

Though she knew it was coming, the declaration made her heart sing and a little relieved giggle passed unbidden from her lips. Lily beamed up at him and it wasn’t until she registered the lingering anxiety in his eyes that she realized he was waiting for a response. 

“I love you too, you idiot,” she said with a fond shake of her head. “I can’t believe you’ve spent a whole day stressing about saying three little words to me when it’s so obvious how I’d respond.”

“I’ve fancied this girl for four years and finally got her to date me and she thinks I want to break up with her,” he shot back, but he was grinning now, a mischievous teasing glint in his eyes. “Honestly, and all these years I thought you were clever.” 

She rolled her eyes and he shook his head at her, splitting grin still in full effect, before he slid his arms around her waist, pulled her to him, and lifted her off her feet to swing her around in the air. Lily wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and threw her head back, laughing freely as he made her dizzy with all his spinning. 

“I love you,” he said again as he finally set her feet back on the ground. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

“You know it doesn’t make it any more meaningful if you repeat it incessantly,” she teased, but he clearly wasn’t bothered as he lowered his head, his mouth covering hers completely, hands leisurely trailing up her body until one rested tenderly on the side of her neck and the other cupped her cheek. 

He jerked away from her as a stream of water from the lake suddenly shot out and struck him in the side of the head, magically missing her by inches. They both whipped around to see their friends all laughing at them, Sirius’s wand hanging limp in his hand at his side as he was all but doubled over. 

James took several hurried steps away from her, clearly intent on retaliation, before he turned around again, kissed her quickly and with a flash of a grin, and repeated, “I love you.” 

Then he was gone, and was nothing more than a tangle of limbs as he wrestled Sirius to the ground Muggle-style. Remus and Peter stood close by, laughing, as Mary and Dorcas retreated hurriedly to avoid falling casualty to the boys’ roughhousing. They stopped in front of Lily and all three of them watched warily as James and Sirius rolled into Remus’s legs, causing the poor boy to fall on top of them as Peter dashed a few steps back. 

“Boys,” Dorcas said, shaking her head as she watched Remus, usually the most composed of the lot, laugh and throw himself wholeheartedly into the pile of wrestling limbs. 

“So immature,” Mary agreed with a little dismissive sniff.

But Lily couldn’t stop smiling as she watched James play with his mates like children. “Still love ‘em, though.”