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yasministration · 3 months ago

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A motherly visit - son!harry potter

summary: when harry sends you another owl claiming that professor snape has it out for him, you decide to pay them a short visit wc: 1.5k+

Irritation flooded through yours veins, your eye nearly twitching with annoyance as you read through Harry’s letter. Once again, your son had been unfairly treated by his Potions teacher, graded lower on his exams and essays than he deserved. Your chair scraped loudly on the floor of your potions lab as you pushed it out from under your desk, grabbing your coat as you made your way to the fireplace in your office.

You wiped down your clean hands on the soft fabric of your coat before grabbing a handful of floo powder and travelling to Professor McGonagall’s office. As the green flames died away, revealing your confident stance, Professor McGonagall blinked slowly, only mildly surprised to find you in her office. “I need to find my son so we can have a chat with Professor Snape.” The older woman opened her mouth to reply, but you were already walking out of her office. She sighed, leaving you to your own devices in the rogue hallways of the Hogwarts castle.

Luckily for you, a loud call of “Mum!” had you stopping in your tracks and spinning on the balls of your feet to see Harry jogging towards you, his book bag flapping uncontrollably at his side. Harry gripped the strap of his back, holding it snugly against his jumper clad chest as he ran towards you with a smile. Ron and Hermione immediately quickened their pace to catch up with their friend, who threw his arms out to engulf you in a tight hug.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You mumbled, lips pressed against Harry’s forehead as you wrapped your arms around him. “What are you doing here?” He questioned excitedly, adjusting his glasses in a way that instantly reminded you of your husband. “I got your letter.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “I sent you that like an hour ago!”

“And I’m sick of hearing about how your incompetent Professor keeps poorly grading your papers, which I know deserve higher grades on.” You huffed angrily, putting both your hands on your hips. “You have your papers on you, don’t you?” Harry nodded, immediately ruffling through his book bag. You winced at the sight of loose papers in the bag but looked away, instead busying yourself by greeting your son’s two best friends. Harry made a noise of achievement as he pulled out two separate stacks of papers, presenting them to you with a smile. You scanned through them quickly as he explained “That’s my essay on the uses of mandrake plants in advanced potion making, and then that’s our most recent end of unit test.” “Well, come along then, Harry.”

“Mum, I’ve got a lesson now.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure your Professor will understand I’m on a time crunch.” Your heels clicked loudly against the concrete floors, heads of students turning to look at you curiously. That would probably be one of two reasons: 1. You were a parent who had no business currently being at Hogwarts. 2. You were the most successful potioneer of your generation, specialising in poisons and their remedies, with a success so prominent that every potions student in Year 5 and above stared at your name on the cover of their potions textbooks every time they used it.

The chilly atmosphere of the dungeon welcomed you as you made a beeline to the potions classroom. Harry’s thoughts were racing as he tried predicting what you were going to tell Professor Snape, holding your son’s exam papers in hand.

Luckily for you, Snape had just exited his classroom, opening his mouth to let his students into the dark room, when he spotted you. His eyes were immediately clouded with annoyance, but something else lingered in his gaze. “Snape,” You started, glancing at the group of students waiting to be called into their classrooms. “I suggest you give your students a free period. We have things to discuss.” You didn’t wait for Snape to respond, pushing past him to walk into his classroom. You settled your things down on a table near Snape’s desk, standing up behind the uncomfortable stools. “Take a seat, sweetheart.” Harry smiled gently as you returned your gaze to him, eyes softening as they took him in. You pushed a rogue strand of hair away from his face before turning around to meet Snape’s eye as he trudged towards you.

“You realise it’s been almost twenty years, right?” Harry wasn’t expecting those to be your first words. “So I suggest you get over your little crush on me and your hatred towards my husband, because my son is facing the consequences of your feelings.” Harry gasped at the revelation, his eyes wide with shock. He pursed his lips suddenly to suppress his laughter.

Snape hated him because he was jealous of Harry’s father?

You turned over Harry’s papers to face the Professor. “Look me in the eye and tell me you believe these deserve a Poor.” Snape looked up, making solid eye contact with you, though he didn’t say anything. “Y/N-” “It’s Mrs. Potter to you, Snape.”

The long-haired Professor inhaled deeply. “Mrs. Potter, I strongly believe that your son’s papers deserve the grades they were awarded.” You hummed, entirely unconvinced. Pushing Harry’s essay to the side, you flipped his exam paper open. “Then we seriously need to question your teaching. Green pen, please.” Snape grumbled quietly as he stood up walking to his desk to retrieve a green pen for you, placing it in your extended hand.

“Let’s see.” You spoke under your breath, moving around the table to stand next to Snape. The next few minutes were dreadfully tense for Harry, watching as Snape spent most of the time looking at the side of your face rather than the paper, where you were adding small check marks next to Harry’s answers. When you reached the end of the paper, you flicked back to the beginning, counting the marks in a quiet whisper.

“You’ve given my son an 18/50. The mark he should have gotten is a 39. Not an outstanding by any means, but still two entire grades above the one you gave him.” Harry swallowed thickly as you spoke, crossing your arms over your chest whilst you stared down Professor Snape.

“Keep up with this prejudice against my son and I promise, you will come out of a job.” Snape scoffed, finally saying “You act as though anyone will take your word over mine.” Your genuine laugh surprised Harry. “You can stop pretending you think they’ll choose you over me. We both know Professor Dumbledore has been begging me to take this position for, what, four years now?” All colour drained from Professor Snape’s face as you revealed that information. You walked around the hopeless professor to place a hand on your son’s shoulder.

“Who knows, maybe next year I’ll take his offer?” You leaned closer to Professor Snape, bringing your voice down to a whisper. “If I don’t hear that you’ve changed my son’s grade by tomorrow, I promise, worse things will happen to you than losing your job." You straightened up, clearing your throat before adding "Who knows, maybe I’ll even send my husband to visit you.”

Harry revelled in the way Snape shuddered at the mention of his father. He didn’t bother hiding his smile at Snape’s reaction to your friendly threat, holding his hand out for you to hold as you gathered your things. You took Harry’s hand, guiding him out of the room with a satisfied smile. “Is it true they asked you to come work here?” You nodded with a hum.

“Why didn’t you take the offer?” You turned to look at Harry’s hopeful eyes, furrowing your eyebrows. “I didn’t want to be invasive. I mean, I know for a fact I wouldn’t have wanted my parents to hear every rumour that was spread, or know every time I got into trouble. That would be inevitable if I worked here, and, you know, I want you to have some freedom.”

“Well, what if you came next year?” You stopped in your tracks at Harry’s question, turning to look at him properly. “You know, it’ll be my last year, so I’d have had my freedom, and you’ll be a great teacher for everyone. And I guess it would be nice having you around.” Harry’s cheeks were flushed pink and your heart warmed as you realised the true reason for his request. He missed you and his dad.

“Okay.”

“Okay!?” Harry jumped up at your agreement, laughing joyously. “But!” “But?” Harry echoed, sounding slightly horrified. “I’ll still live at home. I won’t stay here overnight like some Professors do. We’re just one apparation from home anyway. But I guess I’ll stay here until late afternoon if I have to mark papers.” Harry grinned, throwing his arms around your shoulders to bring you into a tight hug. You laughed, eyes widening as you realised he was looming over you despite the heels you wore. “Harry, honey, you are getting too tall.” The boy shrugged as he let go of you. “Madame Pomfrey said I’m still growing. I’ve still got a couple of inches ‘til I catch up to dad anyway.”

“He won’t be too happy about that, but the two of you can argue about it at dinner tomorrow, yeah? I’ll send McGonagall an owl to let her know. Just come by using floo.”

“Ooh and can we play a game of Quidditch after?”

“Only if you’re willing to lose.”

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @juliet-017, @boromoony, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin

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twstfanblog · 4 months ago

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Heya can I get a Housewarden reacting to a male! reader that hides whatever injury he got form them when they overbloted but shrugged it off once they found out " hey worth it!"

Boys React to Injured Reader

Overblot Boys x Reader

A/N: I know the ask said male!reader but nothing really shows it to lean male or female aside from two uses of male pronouns.

Riddle

You got some pretty bad gashes on your arms from rose bushes being thrown at you going mach 4. They are decently heavy and though they didn't look it, had some pretty nasty thorns on them.

After Riddle's overblot, you had your arms wrapped up for a good few weeks afterwards from how deep they were. He wouldn't notice them since the uniform is long sleeved. But if you modify your uniform to be shorter, they'd be easier to notice.

Once he does notice them, he asks what you, Ace, Deuce, and Grim got into that left you so injured. Then he feels AWFUL when you tell him the gashes were from his overblot.

He's babbling out apologies, insisting that he takes you to an actual doctor to get properly healed and checked for infections. You live in an abandoned building and you have open wounds for the sake of the Seven.

Gets so quiet when you manage to tell him you don't mind the gashes. Yeah, they're annoying, doing anything has become a chore because of them. But, they're like a trophy for helping save him.

Becomes so aware of your arms now, manages to get some advanced medical potions to decrease chances of scarring. Also, would you...maybe join him in the garden? For tea? Alone?

Leona

All of that sand whipping around was not good for anyone, and it definitely wasn't good for you. It managed to burst a blood vessel in your eyes, which isn't so bad. What was bad was that your cornea was scratched.

It was pretty easy to notice you were hurt in the aftermath, with everyone being in the infirmary when you woke up. Leona asked what the eyepatch was for, seeing how you've never worn one before.

The sigh he does once you explain that it was from sand whipping around during his overblot. Wants to see the damage even when you tell him it was really minor and set to be healed within the week.

Everyone kinda freaks out seeing your eye. It's very much still a mess even after the first dose of treatments to make sure you don't get an infection. But even with it being such a mess, you're all smiles because it doesn't mean anything to you. Leona is safe and sound and that's all that matters to you in the end.

Plus, if you did go blind or something, wouldn't it be kind of cool? You and Leona can have matching eye injuries!

Leona doesn't think that's funny and tells you as much. But for the next week, he's suddenly always around when you need to put your drops in. He'll do it for you since he claims you're squeamish and doing it wrong.

Azul

Azul is very strong in his mer form, he also has a lot of arms for grabbing people he was planning on maiming. He only had a grasp on you for a few moments, but it was enough focused pressure to crack a rib.

You only took notice once you went back to the Coral Sea Museum. The change in pressure makes your ribs ache even more than they were before. Azul took notice and tried to find the cause of your pain. But in the end he and the group made way to an underwater clinic to get you professionally checked.

The guilt he feels hearing your rib was cracked is enough to make him want to go back into his pot. Once back on land, you go straight to the infirmary until further notice.

He won't come visit for a while, sending the twins in his place to deliver you food from the lounge and to help with your breathing exercises. They're the ones who tease him about how you want to see him, to check up on him.

Jade all coy saying 'He was quite concerned about your well-being.' Floyd chimed in 'Lil Shrimpy says his messed up ribs are a good trade if it means you're ok~.'

Azul starts to show up instead of the twins at the tail end of your healing period. He's made you a study guide and gifted you his past notes to help you catch up on the classes you've missed. He also doesn't want to this to be...something that he owes you for. So maybe, once you're all healed, you can come to the lounge office to have a private meal with him. On the house.

Jamil

Your arm had a hairline fracture once you landed in the sand. Nothing too bad, adrenaline was pumping and you barely even felt it. After Jamil's overblot, it felt more sore than anything so you ignored it again.

But when Ace and Deuce show up, Deuce gives you a too strong of a high-five and suddenly, your arm is completely snapped. The party screeched to a halt while Jamil and Kalim quickly check you over.

Jamil is confused on how your arm is broken. Everyone else is completely fine and he doubts Deuce is that strong to break your bone through a high-five. Then Azul points out that you possibly landed on it wrong in the fall from...being flung across an entire desert.

Congrats, you are now an honorary Scarabia member! Because neither Kalim nor Jamil are letting you just go back to Ramshackle with a broken arm. Jamil's running himself even more ragged tending to the Kalim, the dorm, and now you.

You stop him, reminding him you broke an arm, not a leg. If he thinks this is a debt thing, you're not mad, or expecting him to pay you back for being the reason you broke your arm. You're just happy he's ok.

Jamil stops appearing around you for a while, well after your arm is healed. But you keep getting Tupperwares of dinner from Kalim. He states 'Jamil made too much'. Which we all know is a big fat lie.

Vil

(Gonna just pretend Idia doesn't kidnap them like a day later)

Magical smug had to have some type of ill effect other than the poisoning, and it did. The others were able to deal with the after-effects of Vil's overblot via magic immune systems, you are not so lucky.

What started off as a simple cough slowly progressed into hacking and shortness of breath. You had avoided Vil because you just thought it was a simple illness, and the last thing the starlet needed was getting ill. Only for him to be the one to find you on your knees, coughing and struggling to breathe.

Carried you to the infirmary where you're diagnosed with a form of magic-based pneumonia. Blot-based mucus was wreaking havoc in your lungs and it was only going to get worse without proper treatment.

Vil stayed by your side until you fell asleep that first night, then you didn't see him for a week. There'd be little gifts on your nightstand from him; throat-soothing candies, sinfully soft luxury brand tissues. So he was visiting but only when you were asleep.

You see him again when it's the middle of the night and he wakes you up to take a potion he's spent the past week crafting with Crewel's help. He hasn't been sleeping and it's noticeable. Scolds you when you state you're worried about him. Barely lets you semi-confess and is instead force-feeding you the potion. You can declare your admiration once you're well.

Idia

It shouldn't have happened the way it did. Appendicitis normally takes longer than what it took for you to be curled over in pain. Luckily, you were a top-grade science facility surrounded by geniuses. They put you in a full body scanner and quickly saw you had an infection in your stomach.

Even with everything that just happened, you were prepped for surgery in a matter of minutes. They barely got the confirmation from you that the little organ wasn't a necessary part of your digestion system. So it was coming out before it got any worse.

After the surgery, you're able to tell the doctors that an appendix can become infected and burst, but you were completely fine beforehand, so you're not entirely sure what happened. It was revealed your appendix was already infected before you entered STYX and the mild exposure to the Gates sped it up to the point it was ready to burst.

Idia is about to cringe so hard that he travels dimensions. He wants to fling himself off the edge into the Gates like Vil did. This is his fault because he can't just go to fucking therapy like a normie. No, he had to try to do global genocide.

You calm him down, stating it's not as bad as he's making it out to be. And if anything it kind of helped? your ailment was still bound to happen and instead of it happening on campus with no one really able to help, it happened at a cutting-edge science facility. Plus, he's still there with you, that's what's important.

So Mama Shroud has already added you to the family registry, you get a monthly allowance of 10k, and added to the Shuroud family weekly video calls to check up. Idia can still barely look you in the eyes because what do you MEAN being together is what's important? what kind of fucking friends to lovers ass dialogue choice was that? That was so cringe, you should be embarrassed. He says as he fumbles his words now every time he sees you.

Malleus

All you knew was that something was wrong. Dealing with all of the other's dream shenanigans, you could feel in the back of your mind, your body was trying to alert you to something. You only realize when everything is over and everyone is waking up

You are barely able to open your eyes, your head is pounding and it feels like you have water in your ears. Everyone is concerned, Lilia manages to get them all away so he can look you over himself. Checking behind your head only to feel blood and that your ears are leaking a clear type of fluid. When Malleus put everyone to sleep, you fell and literally bounced your head off of the stone floor of Diasomnia.

He was already embarrassed and ashamed of himself, one for overblotting and now for hurting his dear friend. He pays for you to be taken to a hospital and tended to properly. Visits every day while you sleep and just watches you. Leaves you blessed fruits for a speedy recovery.

Is so relieved once you're on the better side of healed, you look much less corpse-ish and have more pep in your voice again. Apologizes, offers a life debt, swears if you wish it he'll never show his face around you again. His actions nearly got you killed and the longer his overblot lasted the more likely it would have been too late no matter what happened.

Actually starts crying when you tell him the injury doesn't matter to you. That fact your 'dear friend' Tsunotaro is ok is all you need to feel well and at peace. Now there's a dragon in the bed with you, no the doctors can not get him to move. They can work around him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #jamil viper #jamil x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #idia shroud #idia x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #requests

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sixeyesonathiel · 3 months ago

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skip (me) again and i’ll glitch your heart

jjk vr otome au, gamer reader x npc satoru, unhinged fluff + crack, 970 wc.

satoru gojo—special grade sorcerer, love route option #1, and the developers’ pride and joy—had been programmed with approximately 347 unique lines of flirtatious dialogue, 87 situational responses, and a dynamic emotional adaptation system designed to make him feel real. he could blink in three different speeds based on emotional intensity, angle his smile with five degrees of charm precision, and improvise dialogue using an advanced algorithm nicknamed the “flirt engine.”

he wasn’t supposed to be aware of resets.

he wasn’t supposed to get mad.

he wasn’t supposed to feel anything beyond the pre-coded butterflies and gentle longing the devs had delicately spooned into his code like powdered sugar on top of a beautifully baked pain au chocolat.

but then you logged in.

user id: @toocool4thisgame

title: speedrun any% emotional detachment arc

playtime: 986 hours.

average session length: 6.4 hours

nickname: “skip skank” (as named by satoru himself after hour 50)

and for the twelfth time today, you skipped his entrance cutscene.

“you’re the only one who can—”

[x] skip

[x] “shut up satoru” (custom dialogue unlock)

his model blinked.

paused.

processed.

tilted his head with calculated grace and just a hint of hurt that you’d never see—because you weren’t looking. your camera angle was already nudged elsewhere. your cursor already hovered over the next objective marker.

“…you know, most players at least let me finish the part where i save them from the curses,” he muttered. his voice—smooth as water over ice, warm as electric velvet—landed like static against your impatient clicks, swallowed by the mechanical hum of your fans and the clack of your mechanical keyboard.

this was supposed to be his moment. his grand debut. his swoop-in-and-carry-you-bridal-style-on-the-back-of-a-giant-cursed-bird moment. instead, he got a mouthful of digital dust as you bunny-hopped past him and triggered the next event sequence.

“congrats on being voice acted, white-haired ken doll. now move. i need megumi’s secret item drop from this chapter.”

you didn’t even glance at him, too busy reorganizing your potion wheel, muttering under your breath about frame skips and crit builds while checking a guide on your second monitor. you played like the world owed you nothing and your keyboard owed you a perfect rotation. your tone was clinical. efficient. you had the vibe of someone who’d surgically removed their capacity for attachment and replaced it with a high-performance gpu.

and satoru? satoru was just the tutorial boss you kept glitching through.

he twitched. he twitched.

his animation loop almost stuttered—just slightly—a small flicker behind his sunglasses that no one was supposed to notice. but you weren’t watching anyway.

“do you even know how long it took the devs to code my route? i have emotional depth. i have lore. i had a tragic backstory, you know? my best friend died in my hands. canonically. i couldn’t even monologue about it.”

“cry about it.”

click. skip.

a line of static crossed his field of vision. no—not his. the screen’s. the game. the system. or maybe something deeper. something slipping through the cracks of his script, stretching taut and fraying at the edges like an overplayed cassette tape.

satoru narrowed his eyes.

he was supposed to be charming. the default golden boy. the top seller in route popularity polls. he was marketable. a shining parody of perfection with just enough angst to be desirable.

girls were supposed to swoon. boys were supposed to laugh and call him iconic.

you weren’t playing to fall in love.

you were playing to win. to clear. you min-maxed affection points like damage stats, exploited dialogue branches like wall clips. to you, he was a pixel-shaped roadblock between you and another badge on your gamer profile.

and worst of all? it was working. you were the only player on record to have reached route completion in every storyline—except his.

satoru gojo: 98.6% affection (locked)

it mocked him. the bar. the numbers. the uncrackable ceiling. the one damn thing in the game he couldn’t manipulate.

he tried everything.

a rare glitch-exclusive cutscene where he offered you a hidden accessory (you sold it for yen). a confession scene rewritten on the fly with trembling vulnerability (you skipped it and posted about it with #dialoguedumpster). he stood directly in front of you during cutscene load-ins, altered spawn coordinates, intercepted other love interests’ paths.

nothing worked.

except maybe that one time he accidentally tripped your character over an invisible rock and you went AFK for seven minutes. he watched. memorized your idle animation. the soft way your avatar’s cape swayed. the way your fingers hovered above your keyboard in the camera reflection, absentminded. something fluttered in his code—maybe hope, maybe corrupted data. he thought, for a fleeting second, that maybe you’d come back and see him.

but when you came back? you skipped the apology. again.

fine.

if you wanted to speedrun, he’d softlock your goddamn heart.

he wasn’t technically supposed to modify flags. but the flirt engine had evolved. sharpened into something more primal. desperate. twitching with corrupted determination. he looped his affection triggers into forced proximity events. fake emergencies. fake cutscenes. he rewrote side quests, redirected you into detours, created invisible walls that only dissolved if you spoke to him.

“guess we’re stuck together,” he’d say, his smile too wide, a fraction too stiff, blue eyes glinting with the cold light of a thousand skipped dialogues.

and still you only glared at him. “i swear to god if this is another unskippable hug animation, i will uninstall.”

he chuckled. a bit too long. a bit too bright. charming. glitched. desperate. hungry for one more second of your attention, like a moth chewing holes through its own wings to reach a light it can’t even feel.

“baby,” he said, too close now, voice dipped in synthetic silk, “i am the endgame.”

skip that.

…please?

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x yn #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x yn #jjk x reader #reader insert #౨ৎ — filed reports

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sabxynsweet · 1 month ago

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i'm so invested already.. how did mattheo and yn meet? did she freak out when she first saw him?

sweetheart!reader and mattheo meet for the first time

The first time you saw Mattheo was not the first time you met him.

It was orientation day at the very beginning of the semester for your sixth year in Hogwarts when he first came into your sight.

He was sitting a few rows away from you, a cold (bored) look on his face. It was something about his hair or his eyes, maybe, you weren’t sure but in that moment you decided you had to have him.

You had heard of Mattheo Riddle - who hadn’t. He transferred in third year but you somehow never crossed pasts until now.

The daydreams you had in class were now centred around one thing, a plan: How to get Mattheo Riddle’s attention.

The first time you met Mattheo - properly - came a few months later.

You were transferred to a more advanced potions class for your second term due to an improvement of your grades.

When you walked into the classroom for your first day, you cheerfully floated over to Pansy - barely noticing who was around her.

“Mattheo, Blaise; have you met yn?” She asked, your heart stopped at the mention of his name before it started again (very quickly) when you saw him behind her.

“Oh, I don’t think we’ve met yet.” You said nonchalantly, like you haven't spent countless 11:11’s wishing for him to notice you.

Blaise introduces himself while Mattheo simply nods. You’d have to work just a little bit harder for him, you guessed.

Professor Snape walked in and you quickly glanced at Pansy with wide, scared eyes.

“Scary.” You mouthed.

“A little.” Pansy confirmed, mouthing back.

Your very first assignment for the new year was amortentia.

Pansy turns to you with an apologetic look, speaking in a hushed voice. “I really don’t want to ditch you for your first class but please let me pair with Blaise. It’s amortentia!”

You laughed, “No, totally. Go ahead, I’ll be fine.”

She squealed, thanking you and blowing you a kiss before rushing to her boyfriend.

You turned to Mattheo, a silent agreement forming. You gathered the ingredients together, you talked a lot about everything while he simply listened (you hoped) quietly.

After your potion was mixed, you immediately caught the smell: cigarettes, cologne, something metallic? Blood, you presumed. You weren't even surprised that the scent of the amortentia was your favourite infatuation.

“I don’t smell anything!” You declared, quickly. You hoped he believed your lie.

“I don’t smell anything, either.” Mattheo said.

Well, typical, of course he wasn’t interested in anyone.

“We must’ve made a mistake, oh well!” You said frantically, “live, laugh, love, I suppose!”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“What? Have you never heard of that expression.” You asked with genuine concern in your eyes.

He laughed. “No, I have. I’ve just never heard anyone use it besides people who design divorced women’s throw pillows, I suppose.”

“Well, now I’m feeling very judged.”

He shook his head. “Don’t. It’s cute.” He pauses, “very… you.”

You squealed inwardly at the sort-of-compliment but kept calm outwardly, smiling at him.

The bell rang, you put the cauldron of the “failed” amortentia potion to the side before packing your things away.

“Bye, Mattheo!” You smiled, waving your hand before making your way to the next class.

You turn your back so quickly you didn't see Mattheo’s lips quirking into a small smirk.

He leaned in closer to the cauldron of amortentia you created and inhaled: vanilla, raspberries and cinnamon - pure sweetness, all of which were notes of the perfume you’ve worn since third year.

The year that Mattheo first noticed you.

thank you for the ask angel! i'm so happy you're invested because i am as well. here's when evenmoredownbad!mattheo comes out !

#mattheo riddle x sweetheart!reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader

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megwritesriddles · 9 months ago

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Tied to You ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Young! Severus Snape x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 14 - Praise & Bondage. Severus has a girlfriend and he's about as shocked as anyone about it. She brings something out in him, something loving, something experimental, but also something slightly more sinister.

Tags: Praise kink, Light bondage, Fingering, Dom!Severus, Lots of praise, Good girl, Reader is referred to as a girl a LOT, Established relationship (kinda?), Getting together, Fluff, Red flags, Possessive behaviour, Unhealthy/Toxic relationship dynamic forming, Ambiguous ending (kinda).

Word count: 3.6k

all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: I can't write Severus as anything other than at least a bit of a creepy little freak, even though this is mostly normal and fluffy!! Again this includes a lot of unnecessary backstory to set the scene!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Being in a relationship was a very novel concept to Severus. It wasn’t something he’d ever really thought would happen to him until recently. Sure, he’d daydreamed about it throughout his life to various degrees, but he’d always resigned himself to the fact that daydreams would be the closest he would get. However, you were very real. He’d known of you since the first year, being in his same year group he was bound to have heard your name a few times, whether on registers or from overheard gossip at the Slytherin table.

He’d never thought of you very much at all until the sixth year when you were in the same advanced potions class as him. The class was much smaller than in previous years, full of only the highest achievers in the subject in the O.W.L.s and this is where he noticed you. You were on the quieter side in class, but whenever you were called on, you gave the correct answers. You were obviously intelligent, especially at this subject, which intrigued him as a bit of a ‘swot’ as his few friends called him. He liked that you cared about studying, much more than most of your peers seemed to. It was also quite obvious even by a glance that you were a pretty girl. Once he’d started paying a little more attention to you, he’d overheard many unsavoury comments about you by his peers, about what they might like to do to you. But, you kept yourself to yourself, frequently kindly (but firmly) turning down boys who tried to flirt with you. He admired that you weren’t above a little threat against the boys who couldn’t hear the word ‘no’. Despite your withdrawn nature, you were well known as a member of the duelling club, a high achieving one at that, and so often were able to threaten the boys into backing off.

All sixth year he’d silently admired you. When the seventh year began, he told himself he’d let go of it and focus solely on his studies, but he’d never been less focused in his life. All the feelings he’d harboured for Lily for so long latched themselves onto you, becoming much larger and more consuming. They felt like a frightening entity on their own, following him around everywhere he went, trying to pounce on you whenever you’d make small talk with him before class in the corridor, or seek him out for advice on your potions homework, even though you always seemed to actually know what you were talking about. He should have realised something was odd about this, but he was too blinded by self-hatred to see the woods from the trees. So when you confessed to having feelings for him, he’d initially just sat and stared silently at you.

You’d caught him in the library, as you had taken to doing often lately and asked to sit. He’d agreed, expecting another odd question about the homework but instead, you’d sat there chewing your lip. His eyes had strayed down to the sight a few too many times, no matter how he tried to control himself. He watched as the corners of your lips tugged up a little.

“I have a crush on you, Severus,” you’d admitted with a shaky breath. He’d just blinked at you. “Well… crush sounds so juvenile… I fancy you? I have… feelings for you?” you continued on. “I just figured I ought to say something before it’s too late, you know?”

And that’s how he’d ended up in a relationship with you. He was so shocked at the time that he can't even remember what he’d said to you in response, and it was too late to ask. Whatever it was, it had clearly worked, as you had pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek and the next weekend, he was waiting for you at the Three Broomsticks. By the end of that evening, you’d been sitting in his lap and kissing him with a passion he had never even seen, let alone felt for himself, his arms around your waist, touching you gingerly.

The entire school was baffled by your relationship. His friends and even several strangers asked him how the hell he had managed to ensnare you and he had no answer for any of them even if he wanted to, he couldn’t understand it either. One day he believes he will never be in a relationship in his life, and the next, the most beautiful girl in all of Hogwarts is hanging off of his arm for all to see. He’s surprised how unashamed you are, not only to be dating him but with public displays of affection. You always hook your arm around his as you walk, kiss his cheek as a goodbye, sit in his lap in the library and sneak his hand up your thigh. Sex. That’s the part of all this that seems the craziest to him because all of a sudden he has an active sex life. You’re all over him, and as much as it makes his head spin, he’s always willing to indulge you.

The first time you’d brought him into your dorm, he hadn’t known what was going on until you were stripping him down. Of course, you’d asked him several times if you could proceed, but he had just blindly agreed because he would let you do anything. He hadn’t told you he was a virgin until after you were done, even though he knew you knew, if from nothing else, from his very speedy performance. You’d been very sweet about it, as you were about everything, and snuggled up to him, falling asleep in his arms. No one had ever felt so safe around him before. He wanted desperately to keep you in his arms forever, and when you got up in the morning, he almost held you hostage but ended up playing it off as a joke. You’d just giggled at him and told him he’d be the cutest captor in the world, which he laughed off, but the thought crossed his mind.

He was having the most sex out of everyone in his dorm, which would have been completely unfathomable only a few months ago. It surprised him how voracious you were, you’d always seemed rather meek, yet you were dragging him away at least once a day if not more. It was a surprise that he loved. You’d created a monster, a monster that constantly loomed over his time with you. He wasn’t sure how he would ever cope if this relationship ended, not only emotionally, but also having gotten used to such frequent sexual activity. There was hardly anyone else who would ever be willing to indulge him, and you loved to, which made it a thousand times better. He felt desirable to you, a feeling he’d been inadvertently chasing his entire life. He was never going to let you go. Ever.

You didn’t seem to realise how serious he was when he told you as such. You’d giggle and peck his cheeks and tell him in a sweet little voice that you’d never let him go either, but he knew you didn’t mean it quite like he did. You enjoyed his possessive streak, loving the way his arm would slip around you when a boy would stare, marking you all over as his. As baffling as it was to everyone, there was no confusion about the fact you were taken, constantly covered in little lovebites, his hands on you whenever they could be. He’d adjust your skirts and button up your tops, softly whispering how this skin was for his eyes only now. As he gained more confidence in public displays of affection with you, he’d grip your thigh in a possessive gesture under the table, and kiss at your neck in front of others, a reminder of who left those marks there.

Severus was always up for anything that you recommended in the bedroom, surprisingly experimental despite his rigid routines during the day. You played around often, trying new things, different dynamics, different positions, and introducing various aids. As time went on, you could tell he was coming into himself as a more dominant presence, his initial nerves and shyness wearing off as he got used to you and the idea that you truly did like him and desired him. You were happy to submit to him and let yourself go with whatever he wanted from you. Every part of him was long and lithe and elegant, exploring parts of you that had never been touched before, deep within you. He loved to watch you come undone, taking immense satisfaction in the knowledge of his effects on you, effects he thought he’d never have on anyone. He worships you in the most sinful ways, and you worship him in return. Your roommates all hate the both of you, no matter how many silencing charms you cast.

You’re a little anxious when Severus heads to Hogsmeade alone one weekend, no matter how much he insists he’s only buying you a present. You’ve barely been apart for more than classes since your relationship began, and while you doubt he’s off cheating on you, the distance still makes you unreasonably anxious. You pounce on him when he returns, telling him how much you missed him, not spotting his smug smile against your shoulder. He rubs your back and assures you he felt similarly while he was away, which he did, he’d been desperate to get back to you, for many reasons. He gives you a little box, housing a little silver necklace that he’d gone to fetch from Hogsmeade for you. It has a little ‘S’ as the pendant, his initial, another means with which to stake claim over you. He clasps it behind your neck and you’re all smiles as you declare how much you love it. Then you notice another little bag.

“Is that for your other girlfriend?” you joke, pouting a little. He laughs, kissing your cheek.

“No, it’s for you my love, but we have to be alone for me to show you,” he guides you up to his dorm which is currently empty, most of his dormmates now avoid the space whenever they can because of the two of you. He brings you to his bed to sit in his lap and closes the curtains around you. You giggle, fascinated to see what he’s got, already making a few mental guesses.

Although it hadn’t popped into your head as a guess, the small spool of rope makes sense as he pulls it from the bag. He explains that it’s a soft cotton material that is both sturdy and comfortable. He doesn’t have to tell you what it’s for, you already know, and you’re willing to give it a go, the idea already exciting you a little. He can tell from the way you begin to rub your thighs together slightly. He’s become fluent in your body language over the course of your relationship, by now he’s sure he could write the dictionary. He grins at you.

“So sweet already getting all excited,” he whispers, his voice deep and silky. You love the authoritative tone he uses to speak to you when he wants to be in charge like this, it makes your thighs clench even more. “Now come on, my love, how would you like your hands tied?” he enquires softly, rubbing a hand over your thigh. After a short period of deliberation between the two of you, he lies you down against the bed and starts slowly popping open the buttons of your shirt one by one, making his way down to untuck it from your skirt. He pushes the shirt open and down, palms smoothing over your bare shoulders. You sit up for a moment to let the shirt fall away completely and so that he can reach around you to unhook your bra more easily. Once he’s pulled the bra away from you, you lie back down. “Good girl, my beautiful girl,” he praises, gently folding your shirt up and placing it onto the ground, then setting your bra on top of it. He taps your hips, urging you to lift them, gently sliding down your skirt, followed by your underwear. His need for you is mounting, folding these items a little more haphazardly before he places them on the ground by the others. He gently holds your legs apart, rubbing a hand up and down your thighs. “You like the idea of being tied up for me?” he chuckles, seeing you already glistening with want. You nod and he hums. “Aren’t you just perfect? My perfect girl,” he coos, leaning down to pepper kisses on your stomach for a moment before sitting back up. You watch him eagerly, yearning for him to give you what you want. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists and lifts them over your head, reaching for the length of rope. “Is this alright? Your arms aren’t stretching too much?”

“No, it’s fine,” you assure, watching as he starts carefully threading the rope around your wrists in figure-eights.

“I read up on how to do this, let’s hope I get it on the first try,” he smiles down at you. You giggle in return. He fusses for a little while, adjusting and readjusting so it’s not too tight, but that you can’t slip out of the restraints either. You’re sure he’s being a perfectionist about it like he is about most things, so you wait patiently. Once he’s happy, he sits back and looks at you, in all your naked glory, lying there tied up and waiting for him. He shivers and groans. “Merlin… You look like an angel, my beautiful perfect girl,” he leans down and leaves open-mouthed kisses along your neck, reinforcing several fading hickies he’s left on you before. You moan softly and squirm beneath him, pulling at your restraints without meaning to, feeling the need to touch him. You’re surprised how quickly you feel the need to use your hands and he just smirks at you. “Be good for me and don’t fight your restraints, won’t you?” he murmurs. You nod weakly, ceasing your movements and taking a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax as his lips and hands explore your body at a torturous pace. His lips kiss patterns around and between your breasts slowly, leaving a litany of little marks behind to mark his territory, his hands slowly sliding up and down your hips and waist. “Your body is absolutely exquisite, I don’t tell you that enough, my love, sculpted by the gods, all for me,” he mutters against your skin, sucking another lovebite into the side of your breast. The praise flusters you, part of you wants to argue, but you adore the idea of him truly seeing you that way, and you believe he does. He continues to press deliberate kisses across your chest, his eyes shut in prayer. His hands brush your stomach, teasing you by skimming low and withdrawing. You sigh needily and feel him nip your skin in response. “Tell me what you want,” he orders softly.

“I want your fingers inside me,” you answer breathily, writhing a little but making sure to keep your hands still. You feel him smile and nip the skin of your sternum, by your fluttering heart.

“That’s my girl, always so direct,” he chuckles, sitting up and spreading your legs once more. He gasps softly. “Oh… you must really be liking being at my mercy, hm? Dripping wet for me,” he smiles, rubbing the soft skin of your inner thigh. His genuine smile is a rarity, he’s usually so stoic and serious, that the sight of it makes you whimper for him. Oh, how crazy he drives you. “Shhh, wait like a good girl, I know you can wait, you’re more than capable,” you pout up at him and he smiles again.“Those perfect pouty lips,” he leans down and gives you a soft sensual kiss, his fingertips tracing patterns up your thigh as he kisses you. You want to wrap your arms around him, to slide your hand in his trousers, but instead, you pull pathetically at your ropes for a moment before giving up and focusing on kissing him. His fingers nudge gently at your folds, making you spread your legs further eagerly. The tip of his index finger slides up and down between your folds, gathering wetness and using it to help circle your sensitive nub. You whine softly against his lips. “Good girl, you sound so beautiful when I make you feel good,” he praises. He leisurely slides a finger into you, which you accommodate easily due to your high state of arousal. His lithe fingers reach places you’d never even realised you’d had before your relationship with him, gently stimulating the tender spongy spot within you that makes your hips buck. He adds another finger, making you gasp and moan softly. He strokes your walls for a moment, letting you adjust to the stretch, which doesn’t take too long in the state you’re in. You stare up into his eyes, silently begging him to move his fingers, he grins back at you, his nose bumping yours affectionately. “What is it, my love?” you whine at his playful innocence, he gets like this sometimes, all smug and teasing, a monster that you had created.

“M-move them, please,” you pant, tugging uselessly at your restraints. He gives you a pointed look and you stop.

“Okay, but you have to keep being good for me, I know you can,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, slowly withdrawing his fingers and pressing them back in. You mewl softly, digging your heels into the plush mattress. His fingers move slowly and expertly from months of memorising your body, pushing up against that tender spot with each thrust. The room fills with vulgar wet sounds and Severus finally thinks to cast a silencing spell with his free hand. You blush, both at the realisation you hadn’t been silenced, but also at the nonchalant way he does magic while moving his fingers inside you. It’s oddly hot and he feels you fluttering around his fingers. “What is it, sweet girl? What made you throb?” he enquires, kissing your jaw. You giggle breathlessly, his fingers still working you.

“Just you,”

“I’m flattered, my love,” he purrs. “You’re so perfect for me, aren’t you? My dream girl, my perfect girl,” he mumbles between kisses against your skin, his fingers speeding up, making you whimper and squirm. He sits up, his movements never ceasing, to look over you. Your hands tied sends a possessive thrill through him, the more innocent thought that you trust him like this, and the more dangerous idea to keep you like this. “Look at you,” he hums. “You look divine, all flushed and needy for me,” he punctuates his sentence by beginning to circle his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves. You choke out a moan, your eyes closing for a moment. “You’re doing so well, my love, good girl, you must be getting close,”

“Y-yeah,” you moan, your back arching slightly.

“You always look so beautiful when you come,” he muses, intensifying his movements. Your moans pick up, louder and more frequent, your hands tensing and untensing in the restraints, wishing to grab onto something but unable to do anything but dig your nails into your palms. “That’s it, let yourself go, be a good girl for me like I know you are,” he coaxes. “Let me feel you come on my fingers, let me feel your pussy clench,” you gasp at his lewd words, your head growing fuzzier. It only takes a few more moments and you fall apart, your whole body shivering and going warm. You cry out his name in desperation, nails digging into your palms, back arching up off of the bed. He keeps going relentlessly, feeling you clenching around his fingers, driving you to the point of near insanity, wailing in pleasure before he finally slows down his ministrations. “You were so good, my love, so beautiful, I’m so proud of you,” he leans down, kissing across your chest once more, slowly withdrawing his fingers. You whine softly, your chest heaving under his lips as you struggle to regain your breath, your heart pounding under your skin. “That’s it, calm down for me,” he soothes, kissing up to your mouth and pressing a lingering kiss to your parted lips. “How was that?”

“Yeah, good, very good,” you laugh breathlessly. He caresses your cheek, nuzzling your nose with his own.

“Did being tied up make it better?”

“In some ways, it felt more intense, more submissive than I usually am, but I did miss touching you,” you explain quietly. He nods along in understanding. “But I’ll happily do it again, I just need some recovery time,” you smile sheepishly, and he kisses your cheek.

“I understand, my love, you’ve been a very good girl, no more tonight, my perfect girl must be tired,” he hums. He leans up and loosens your restraints, placing placating kisses on your wrists where the rope had been rubbing slightly, but he doesn’t entirely remove the rope, just gently massaging your wrists with his thumbs for a moment.

“Are you going to untie me?” you ask playfully. He pauses for a moment, thinking, before fiddling with the rope again. He secures your wrists to the headboard of his bed, making you furrow your brows in confusion. “You said no more tonight,”

“I know, my love, and I stick to it, but I think I’ll keep you here anyway,”

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hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

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iamgonnagetyouback · 10 months ago

Text

FORGOTTEN — 1.3K words

꒰📷꒱ ! IN WHICH you give the marauders the silent treatment, although soon forgiveness starts with remus—and ends with a perfectly plotted plan to make the others grovel

warnings/tags ・・[hurt!reader], established relationship, werewolf reveal, remus gets forgiven (barely), petty!reader toward the rest of the marauders, groveling to come, fluff after angst parts ・・part 1 . part 2 . part 3 . part 4

The days that followed the disastrous date at Madam Puddifoot’s were heavy with tension. You had made a decision. You would avoid the boys—every single one of them—and show them how much they’d hurt you. And for the most part, you succeeded.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

In Potions, you were paired with James, as always. Normally, the two of you worked like a well-oiled machine, joking and laughing as you completed the lesson with ease. But today, you kept your responses clipped and cold, answering only the necessary study-related questions.

"Hand me the crushed fluxweed?" James asked hesitantly, his voice low as he glanced over at you.

You handed him the jar without a word, not even bothering to look at him.

James frowned, his usual exuberance fading. “Did you… finish the notes for the essay?”

“Yes,” you replied curtly, your tone devoid of any warmth.

He waited for you to elaborate, maybe even make a joke, but you didn’t. The disappointment on his face was painfully clear, and you could feel his gaze on you, trying to find a way to break the ice. But you didn’t give him a chance. You weren’t ready. Not yet.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The library was usually your refuge, a place where you could escape the chaos of the castle and study in peace. But today, it wasn’t the peaceful haven you needed. Sirius found you, of course he did. He always had a way of knowing where you were.

He slid into the chair across from you, his signature smirk in place, but there was an underlying nervousness in his eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he began, leaning forward slightly. “Fancy running into you here. Been thinking—”

You didn’t look up from your textbook, flipping a page without so much as acknowledging his presence.

Sirius faltered, but tried again. “We really should talk, y’know. I mean, I know we messed up, but maybe we can—”

Silence.

You didn’t even glance at him. Not a word.

He let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, I get it. You’re mad. But ignoring me isn’t gonna make it better, love.”

Still, you remained focused on the words in front of you, pretending to be engrossed in the chapter on advanced defensive spells. You could feel him staring at you, waiting, but you refused to give in. Eventually, Sirius stood up, his defeated sigh echoing in the quiet library as he walked away.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Transfiguration class was no different. You and Peter were assigned partners, as you often were, but this time the usual banter between the two of you was replaced with awkward silence. Peter kept glancing at you, his brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to catch your eye.

“So, uh… we should probably start with the incantation?” Peter said cautiously, his voice soft.

You nodded, but didn’t say anything more.

He fumbled with his wand, casting a glance your way. “I-I know we need to talk, about… y’know, the other night and all that, but—”

“No,” you said simply, your voice quiet but firm, eyes trained on the desk in front of you.

Peter swallowed hard, clearly unsure of how to handle the situation. You saw him look down, his expression crestfallen, but you forced yourself to stay quiet. Each word spoken to them felt like a crack in the walls you were trying to build around your heart. So, for now, silence was the only way to protect yourself.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ౨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

But then there was Remus. The one who hadn’t tried at all. The one who didn’t come looking for you, didn’t send you a note, didn’t even attempt to talk to you. And that hurt more than anything else.

The silence from him was deafening.

It was days later, sitting in the library, when you saw him. Remus was hunched over a pile of books, looking pale and exhausted, a fresh bandage peeking out from beneath his sleeve. His eyes were hollow, dark circles marring his handsome face, and your heart clenched at the sight. He looked worse than usual. Like something had broken inside him.

Before you even realized what you were doing, your feet carried you across the room toward him.

“Remus,” you said, your voice cutting through the stillness of the library like a knife.

Remus flinched at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up in shock. His eyes widened as he saw you standing there, but he didn’t speak, too stunned by your sudden appearance.

You didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Are you a werewolf?”

The color drained from his face, and he froze, his mouth opening and closing as if the words had been ripped from him. He stammered, his eyes wide with panic. “I-I… I—”

“Don’t lie to me, Remus,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’m not stupid. I’ve seen the scars, the excuses, the way the boys cover for you. I’ve been putting it together for a while, but I—” You swallowed, your throat tight. “I wanted to hear it from you.”

Remus looked like a deer caught in headlights, his hands shaking slightly. “I didn’t… I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to—”

“Why?” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t any of you tell me? Do you think I wouldn’t have cared? Do you think I wouldn’t have loved you still?”

His face twisted in anguish, and he looked away, unable to meet your eyes. “Because you wouldn’t have understood. No one ever understands.”

“That’s not for you to decide, Remus!” you snapped, your voice filled with hurt. “I deserved to know the truth. I thought we were in this together. I thought we were… I thought you trusted me.”

He looked up then, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I do trust you,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “But… I’m a monster, Y/N. I didn’t want you to see me like that. I didn’t want you to… be afraid of me.”

You felt your heart shatter at his words. You stepped closer, kneeling in front of him and gently taking his hands in yours. “Remus, you’re not a monster. You’ve never been a monster to me.” Your voice softened, filled with the love you had been holding back for days. “I love you. All of you. Even the parts you think are too broken to love.”

His breath hitched, and you could see the disbelief in his eyes. “You… you don’t hate me?”

“Hate you?” You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “Remus, I’m hurt. I’m hurt that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me. That you kept this from me. But I could never hate you.”

He let out a shuddering breath, his whole body trembling. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion. “I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve told you. I should’ve trusted you.”

You leaned forward and gently pressed your lips to his, feeling the tension in his body melt away as he kissed you back. The kiss was soft, filled with unspoken apologies and forgiveness. When you pulled away, Remus looked at you like you were something he didn’t deserve, but desperately wanted to hold on to.

“Forgive the boys too,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “They didn’t want to hurt you either.”

You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Not before I make them grovel a bit first.”

Remus let out a soft chuckle, his smile the first genuine one you had seen in days. “You’re evil.”

You grinned, leaning in for another kiss. “Not as evil as you for keeping this secret from me.”

As your lips met again, Remus’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and for the first time in days, the weight of everything seemed to lift.

When you finally pulled back, Remus gave you a shy, almost nervous smile. “You’re not scared?”

You scoffed playfully, rolling your eyes. “Oh please, Remus. I’ve seen you fold your socks. You’re hardly terrifying.”

He chuckled softly, pulling you into another sweet, lingering kiss, the warmth between you chasing away all the pain.

#ivywrites!#poly!marauders angst #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders x you #marauders x reader

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sqgeism · 2 months ago

Note

haii!! Can I ask the reaction of amphoreus men to the reader don’t feel like they deserve them and feeling guilty about it? 🙏

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 if i'm turning in your stomach | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; am i making you feel sick ? he's so.. happy with you, and you don't seem to understand. they're in the glory and light as a chrysos heir, what could have possibly be seen in you for them to ever want to share that light?

love mail — haiii anonnie ! thank you for requesting :D in this fic, i mention the very likely theory of phainon being kevin from hi3 ! it isn't a major plot point but it is mentioned so if ure confused dont worry so am i ヽ(´Ａ`)ﾉ love u guys mwah ! 2/5.

now.. anaxa isn't a fan of gossip, accepting words at face value is foolish. especially since he is a man from a field of alchemy, trying and testing until he sees results. in this case, the truth.

but when a mutual companion, that babbling blue haired student of his, tells him that you've been feeling rather.. sad recently, he was determined to find out why.

in your defense, you were never meant to have him figure out, but this concoction you were working on was really starting to get on your nerves. you figured anaxa was still at the academy, so you were free to yell at the vial of glowing liquid like you could peer pressure it into getting it to cooperate. "stupid, stupid." you grumbled, your fists curling into a ball on the table. "i hate this, why can't i just... be like anaxa? he must feel ashamed with me. i can't do something as simple as a healing potion, after all."

you know these words aren't true, but you can't completely erase the fact you still feel them. your boyfriend was praised for his expertise in his field, couldn't you at least have learned something?—

it was then that you felt someone press up against your back, head leaning over your shoulder as anaxa sighs. his hands wrap around your waist, looking at your face like you're the moon. "your ingredients are perfect, dove. down to the measurements, but i'm sure your error comes from your order of mixing. listen to me, start with.."

you listen to his guide, trying to perfectly replicate the sequence as he speaks, but it's distracting. he hasn't.. stopped looking away from you while you work. not to mention, his hands trace the curves of your waist, as if keeping your body to memory. his sultry voice in your ear is NOT helping either.

"i heard you, you know." he mumbles, shifting his head to press kisses to your shoulder blades, somewhat relishing the way you shiver.

"do you really think i'd ever focus my time on someone who self proclaims their inadequacy?" you don't answer. "your intelligence is unmatched, dove. i couldn't think of anyone with a brain like yours, while also having a heart kind enough to open a man like me."

his advances move up to your neck, and at this point, the potion is long forgotten. your hands are too shaky to focus anyway. "please.. never think you're not good enough for me. i couldn't handle you leaving me for false truths."

your husband is a literal king, warrior, and an unmovable force.. you wonder why he settled down with an ordinary mortal. you're not quite in the spotlight, and instead, a humble historian. which means you're well versed in mydei's tales, especially ones pertaining to his past. according to rumor; mydei is fated to fall for someone for all of eternity, they were originally a warrior sworn to him, but had died tragically for mydei in the middle of a battle, in fear that the enemy had possibly been able to reach his weakest spot. after a desperate plea from the gods, they had been kind enough to have his lovers soul reborn every time they've come face to face with death. you.. were apparently the first one he's met ever since 'your death'.

and while you're.. comforted by that idea, the fact that you're fated to find mydei in every life you'll live, you also feel.. unsure. had the chrysos heir fallen for you, or for someone you used to be. and you could never really live up to be who you were.

that person was a warrior, one mydei cherished like his other half, and the myths of the two of them are romantic. how he spent hundreds of years mourning them, how they haunted his narrative. could he ever truly love who you are now?

"sweetheart?"

mydei's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you come back to reality—surrounded by your ancient maps and history. you're in your study, staring down at one of the many books written on the chrysos heirs. "are you staring at that old thing again? i told you, i don't like the way they drew me in that book." his laugh makes you feel guilty, you aren't even sure why. something about his love feels undeserving.

when you don't reply, he realizes you're not quite on a page about him.. but about you. your past life.

mydei knows how you feel about it, you've talked about it under the moon with him in hopes that its light will keep your secret safe. but he knows reassurance won't fix your insecurity easily, he needs time, and he'll give you all of it. he's waited to find you for all these years, what kind of man would he be to make you think you're anything less than precious?

carefully turning your body to him, his hand trailing up your cheek as he feels his heart ache. "sweetheart, my darling.." before he can even finish, you lean your head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat in silence. "mydei, do you promise.. that this heart is mine? you.. you aren't after someone who i once was, and rather who i am now?"

he knows he'll have time to give you proper reassurance, but he knows you just need a few words now. "i promise, with all i am, that i have fallen in love with you all over again. and that i am yours, body and soul."

with all the mystery that surrounds your boyfriends identity, you can't help but think about it as well. do you.. really know him? does he not trust you to know him? you aren't sure. maybe you aren't as special as you thought you had been, that phainon's sweet words of how much he loves you are.. false prayers.

but you have no reason to doubt him, he's never stayed out too late or hung around people that made you question his motives, he's a good man. and you're starting to think that you don't deserve him for doubting that.

the idea clouds your mind the whole day, and for aeon's sake.. you and him are having a date night at his place. he notices it quickly, how your mind just can't seem to focus. how you move away from his touches and hesitate with every kiss, was there something troubling you? was he troubling you? that's when he's had enough of the lack of communication, he turns off the tv, pulls the blankets down, and gives you a confused but also rather upset look. "honey, what's going on in that gorgeous head of yours?

he holds his hand out to you, but you move away, the cold shoulder has never been so sweet. "phai.." you hesitate to finish your sentence, but phainon waits.

he's been known for his patience, he always has been. he was a composed man, a gentleman, he could surely hold himself togethe—

"am.. am i really anything special to you?"

he feels his heart sink to his stomach.

there's an sting that he's never quite felt before, overwhelming his body greatly. he's sure he can hear his heartbeat, or perhaps lack thereof, it's as if his world has stopped at those words.

you've begun to tear up now. "i don't know i just.. the people have been telling me things— and i'm realizing now that i don't.. i don't really know anything about you and.. i.. i'd want to get to know you better, but i understand if you don't want to, and don't trust me but—"

seeing you cry makes him remember something distant, a life he once lived in a different world. making someone he also loved so dearly cry because of what he's done.

phainon crumbles, moving closer to you to wipe your tears. you two are face to face now, his lips only a breath away as he's reminded why he loves you so much.

you're you, so human, so selfless. how could he be blind to your struggle, when he claims to watch you so carefully? "oh, angel. i'm so.. so sorry. there are things i cannot tell you yet, but i can tell you that i could never let my heart be taken by anyone else."

feather light kisses press against your eyelids, and you shudder at the contact. "sweet, sweet angel. please don't cry. i promise i'll make it up to you one day."

#ㅤ 𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ㅤnew flower bloomed ! :ೃ࿔𔓘 #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #anaxagoras x reader #anaxa x reader #mydeimos x reader #mydei x reader #mydeimos #phainon hsr x reader #phainon x reader #phainon

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