#necessary evils fanfic

[blackandwhiteandrose]

So, I’m trying something new. I’ve become obsessed with the Necessary Evils series by Onley James and I just had to write about them. Turns out this is the first fic on A03 for the series, which is nerve-wracking. 

If you were feeling adventurous, I’d appreciate your support to go check it out!

READ IT ON A03.

Needing a distraction while Adam is taking care of family business, Noah turns to Google image search. The results are ... inspiring.

2.4 k words || explicit

[lesbianfanfictionenthusiast]

lying to my mum about who i read fanfiction about because coming out as a lesbian is nothing compared to coming out as a rpf reader

[godess-of-the-void]

I had to do it!

A Multiverse Beetlejuice Fanfic....

The Narrator is the Betelgeuse from my own town of Porta Inferni in Necessary Evil.

Enjoy the chaos.

[lord-squiggletits]

There's something really magical about publishing one chapter at a time, operating off a loose outline but coming up with stuff spontaneously as I go. On the other hand, it does lead to a lot of instances of hindsight/regret as I look back on what I wrote and go "If I'd known I was working towards that from the start, I would've been able to foreshadow it a lot earlier."

As an example, I was working on plot brainstorming for the SG sequel fic to PUE (coming soon?) and realized that in chapter 11, there's some bits about Soundwave waiting for a couple of the cassettes to be rehabilitated so he could bring them back into the fold again. And if I'd just thought of that earlier, I could've put something in as early as chapter 6 if not straight from the beginning that Soundwave is also slightly discontent about the universe swap and, while not opposing Megatron, is sad about not seeing his cassettes again. Which would've allowed for him to have more presence as a character and also give Orion someone to sympathize and work with when they realize they both have a shared desire to switch the universes back if that's what it takes to do what's right/see their loved ones again.

Idk, I don't really want to undergo the monolith task of rewriting a 178k word fan fiction, but I think a lot sometimes of all the things I would fix and improve if I had just written the whole thing and gone through rewrites before posting

[amplifyme]

A Necessary Evil

The X-Files. MSR. Rating: Teen and up. WC:2351. Read on AO3.

Tagging @today-in-fic

So it’s time to fess up.  To lay bare the part of himself he’s not so proud of. Here goes: Fox Mulder is skilled at seduction. He always has been. From as far back as middle school, he’s known. He looks at himself in a mirror and sees only the flaws. The ridiculously large lower lip. The small triangular eyes. The undersized chin with not enough room between it and the aforementioned lip. The overly broad and large-scale nose. But for some reason beyond any logic, and put all together, those features have had teenaged girls, and then women, falling at his feet for as long as he can remember. It’s as simple as his attentive gaze aimed in their direction.

And, okay, yes, he’s been blessed with a tall and naturally lean body. And he likes to work it, discover its limits. He pushes his body as stringently as he does his far-out theories. So he’s managed to gain a strong back and lean, muscled arms and legs; a swimmers physique and a coveted six-pack. And all with enough ease that he quit going to the gym years ago. Running, swimming, and pickup basketball games have replaced gym equipment, and he attempts to keep mind and body in synch with yoga too, though he won’t ever admit to that particular discipline, even to the few friends he has. Like his looks, he can’t help what his genetics have given him. It’s all just a result of his unique mishmash of genes, and maybe some dumb luck. But that doesn’t mean he’s not above using what he’s got to further his crusade - in ways both monumental and small.

His glibness, which some might call charm, comes naturally too. He’s an equal opportunity flirt. He always has been. And he’s rarely caught unable to offer a smooth, witty retort or a wry observation. He can’t explain this either. It’s simply who he is. Although it does help that he genuinely loves women. He finds them fascinating and mysterious puzzles, loves attempting to assemble their enigmatic ways into a kind of pattern that might afford him some answers to the great unknown. He loves to converse with the fairer sex, especially the ones who can keep up with his esoteric banter. More than anything else, he loves the opportunity to give them what they want most from him. And a lot of the time that means giving them parts of himself: his body, his mind, even his heart if they’re exceptional enough.

He lost his virginity at fifteen to a girl a few years older and on the cusp of her high school graduation. He was clueless aside from the alleged personal knowledge of his friends, the old, dog-eared copies of Playboy he snatched from his dad’s bottom dresser drawer, and his own determination to do for a woman what was expected of him as a man. Luckily, the girl who popped his cherry had more experience and the confidence necessary to begin to turn his enthusiasm into proper technique. The rest he learned from books and films once he was out of high school, independent for the first time, and housed in a third-floor flat right outside the grounds of Oxford University proper.

And then had come Phoebe.

If he was naturally gifted and confident in his technique, Phoebe was a Jedi Master when it came to seduction. And she punched way, way above his weight. She was both a revelation and a nightmare. She did things with him that he never could’ve imagined, let alone actually engaged in. There were still blocks of time so lost to the haze of drugs, alcohol, and depravity that he’ll never be able to recollect them with any clarity. She had his number almost from the start and didn't hesitate to fuck with his head with as much ease and skill as she fucked him in other ways. And there he was, a psych major. He should’ve known better.

But he loved her. And that’s when he learned that book knowledge could never trump the lessons learned while attempting to dissect Phoebe’s twisted mind. She took his love, his trust, and used it as a weapon against him.

He took those lessons with him to the FBI Academy. They pursued him with such fervor that he couldn’t deny them his as-yet-untested investigative skills and his spooky intuition. He was, soon after, deeply entrenched in the VCS and profiling criminals who sometimes paled in comparison to Phoebe Green’s mind games. He also managed to work his way through a majority of the female staff surrounding him. He’d make it clear from the first encounter that it would never be more than two consenting adults indulging in adult behavior. He wasn’t looking for his one true love. And romancing them, though the various techniques came easily, was not an indication of any desire to make permanent a temporary liaison; something lasting beyond a few rolls in the hay. He knew when to cut any fragile ties that might develop. He didn’t have time to waste on such trivialities. He was going to change the world and it wouldn’t be with his dick. Love and attachment had no place in his life anymore. Not after Phoebe.

But then had come Diana.

Leggy, dark haired, blessed with a steel-trap mind and an incredible set of tits. Yes, she was older than him, but she listened to him, encouraged him, praised him. And eventually she’d joined him in his bed, as well as in his explorations of a small and rarely mentioned off-shoot of FBI investigations classified as X-Files. Unexplained phenomenon. He found himself besotted with them, and with her. She lay next to him through many nights and had soothed him after the nightmares that’d plagued him most of his life. Diana encouraged him to seek out regression hypnosis to find answers to questions he’d been asking since his sister had vanished. She told him she loved him. He’d said, “Marry me,” and she’d said, “I do.”

He should have known better. But he loved her, too. And five months later she was gone. She took his love, his trust, his belief, his newfound quest, and used those things as an excuse to rip them asunder.

What good is innate charm when it comes at such a price? What good is seduction when it only postpones an inevitable loss? What good is love and intimacy when they only wound?

He sat in the half-empty apartment that was now his alone for three straight days. Diana hadn’t taken any of the alcohol, so he worked his way through the half-empty bottles of Chivas Regal and Absolut, sipped at the sickly-sweet brandy she liked before bed, pounded shots of Jose Cuervo. He didn’t bother turning on a light when the sun set. His phone didn’t ring. He didn’t shower and ate straight from containers of Chinese food and the flat boxes of pizza he had delivered. He watched mindless television or sat in silence. He didn’t bother with the marriage bed; his couch was good enough to sleep on and had room for only one. It was fitting because now he was only one. The loneliest number.

By the morning of the fourth day, he had a plan. He knew what he had to do. No more distractions, no more giving in to the weaknesses of the heart. Nothing but seeking the answers to his questions. And those lay within the X-Files - he was more certain of that than ever. He got back on his feet, dusted himself off, and went back to work. He fought harder than he ever had before for those discarded and dusty files. And finally, finally, they officially set him free from the serial killers and the pedophiles and the worst of humanity and sent him down to the basement of the Hoover building. He lived and breathed the work there. He buried himself in years, decades, of unanswered questions, certain that he would be the one to uncover the truth of what had happened to his sister, and to the larger mysteries of existence that everyone else seemed so uninterested in delving into. This was his mission. This was his calling. Nothing else mattered.

Then came Scully.

He opened his copious bag of tricks, both innate and learned through experience, when he found out she was on her way. He read everything he could find on her before she showed up. And when she did, he established a boundary from the get-go, addressing her not as Agent or Dana, but simply as Scully. He dialed up the charm, the casual game of seduction he knew so well, fully intending to use it against this usurper and cause her to trip up, to make a mistake that would force her away in either shame or disgust. He honed the sharp edges of his sarcasm and was prepared to cut her deeply with his casual disregard. He was already skilled at pulling women into his orbit. Combined with what he’d learned from Phoebe and Diana about the fine art of the emotional drawing and quartering of one’s prey, he didn’t think Scully would last a month.

But somehow, somehow, she saw him and who he truly was. Listened to him. Respected him, even if she initially bought into his reputation and thought him spooky and unhinged. She offered him her soft underbelly on the first night of their first case. And despite his determination to treat her as the spy she’d been sent to be, he couldn’t help but show her vulnerability in kind. He told her about Samantha.

And she stayed. She stayed despite his bad behavior and his obviously practiced performance; the means of disarmament that’d always served him so well before. And soon he realized she was just as unhinged as he was, just as passionate. Not in the same ways, of course, because she was firmly rooted in science and the desire to prove his extreme theories wrong. But she was fearless and feisty, infinitely curious, and willing to go beyond what any sensible person might do in order to further his cause. Even as she slowly came to realize he might be right more often than not, that this singular obsession of his took precedence over everything else, she stayed. Scully always stayed.

Seven years on, seven years of heartache and grief and losing more than they’ve gained, she remains by his side. And somewhere along their journey it’s become less about the work and more about the two of them, what they’ve built together. He occasionally worries that maybe he hasn’t always been honest enough with her, that she took his early subterfuge at face value, even after he'd dropped all pretenses. He worries that he may not be the man she thinks he is, and that eventually she'll figure that out and leave him.

He gets up and pulls her from her seat at the empty local pizza place in Nowhere, Nebraska just as the jukebox begins to play the last song he selected after feeding it quarters on the way to their booth.

“Mulder, what are you doing?” she grumbles in mild annoyance. It’s been a long day and they’re both dead on their feet. And now he’s dragged her away from the first slice of sausage and mushroom already on its way to her mouth. Her fingers are slightly greasy as he clasps them in his and gives her a little twirl before pulling her close.

He can do this kind of thing these days, when they’re in the field and not likely to be seen and reported for conduct unbecoming of Special Agents with the FBI. He can get them adjoining rooms, with their respective connecting doors left unlocked for clandestine visits after they’ve showered away the remains of their day. He can fully and unabashedly use all those powers of seduction and charm that he’s honed over the years. And Scully reaps the benefits. They both do. It works every time now. His myriad talents are a necessary evil.

“I’ve got you under my skin,” he tunelessly croons in her ear, murmuring along with Frank on the jukebox. “I’ve got you deep in the heart of me. So deep in my heart you’re really a part of me,” he finishes, gazing down into vivid and grudgingly tolerant azure eyes. He dances her in between tables and across the empty tiled floor as the horn section revs up and kicks in.

“Aren’t you a bit young to be a Sinatra fan, Mulder?” she asks after a minute or so. He catches the corner of a smile she’s trying to suppress.

“They’re called classics for a reason,” he argues. “Old Blue Eyes will never go out of style.” She finally relents a bit of her reserve and lays her cheek on his chest. “Tell me something, Scully.”

“What do you want me to tell you?” she asks, peering up at him with fondness. The tone she's using is one she normally reserves for small children or fat little puppies.

“Did I,” he hesitates, “…did I seduce you? Has everything led to this because of something I did years ago?”

She bursts out with a short, sharp peal of laughter and pats him on the chest with her free hand. “Don’t be an idiot, Mulder. I seduced you.”

He grins down at her and they dance a little more, the lone waitress shooting them a mildly curious look from her perch at the counter housing the cash register.

“I would sacrifice anything, come what might,” Scully begins softly singing, negating any advantage she might’ve had over him for being such a nerd and celebrating Frank Sinatra’s genius. “For the sake of having you near. In spite of the warning voice that comes in the night and repeats. How it yells in my ear, ‘Don't you know, little fool, you never can win?’”  

But that’s the thing. They have won. And right now, that’s good enough. Right now, it’s everything.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Notes:

I'm sorry. No idea where this came from, and it's very much stream-of-consciousness. That's becoming a pattern these days. I’d call it just another random brain dump, but instead of getting it out in a tiny chunk, this one took on a life of its own and tortured me beginning to end. I don’t question the muse. She’s driving this train, not me.

Until next time…

[prince-everhard]

Weekly Oneshot Challenge - week 10

Title: the pursuit of knowledge Rating: T (mild swearing) Fandom: Naruto Word count: 1647 Summary: Kakashi expects his team to shake the world someday. He doesn’t expect them to shake his world doing homework of all things. [strike team au]

-

“Sensei?” Kakashi looks up from his book at Sakura’s tone. 

All of team seven is studying, even Kakashi. After the grueling month of “conditioning boot camp” that Kakashi shamelessly stole from his ANBU days, the team had fallen into a more sedate routine. Sedate in this case is relative, as Kakashi has also just as shamelessly scoped out how his fellow jounin sensei are treating their students. He won’t say that he finds his peers’ work to be lacking. He’ll certainly think it, but he won’t say it. 

The other genin teams of this graduating class meet three times a week, train for a couple hours, and take on a D-rank or two a week. They rarely see each other outside of training or family functions. Team seven trains almost daily, with a mandated rest day in the middle of the week. From the time they wake up until the time they get ready for bed, they are in some way training or working. Kakashi has made a point to have his team study in the evenings after pushing their bodies during the day. D-ranks are just another kind of training with added parameters and his students’ naturally competitive natures. 

His team also has the benefit of seeing each other almost all day every day thanks to Kakashi’s digging. Jounin sensei aren’t required or even expected to house their students like with an apprenticeship, but there was enough of a precedent for him to offer his family home to his students despite the council’s pushback. Opening his family home to them only made it easier to foster their teamwork and oversee their progress. Naruto was happy to have someone to come home to, Sasuke quietly grateful to have an excuse to avoid the ghosts of his clan, and Sakura was eager to escape the smothering presence of parents who didn’t understand her shinobi lifestyle. So team seven eats, sleeps, trains, and even relaxes together. Between the proximity and the shared misery of their initial training Kakashi can see how his genin has grown both as a team and as individuals.

Their studying in the evenings is varied and intense. There are days where he lets them loose on his father’s old library with no direction; whatever catches their fancy or they want to pursue is fair game. Kakashi finds those evenings entertaining, in a way. He finds himself surprised by what his genin choose to study. Seeing Sasuke thumbing through medical texts surprised him. Naruto’s gravitation toward traps and fuinjutsu is on-brand enough to settle his nerves, though in a few years he knows others are going to have a problem with it. Sakura seemingly picks something at random and when Kakashi comments on this after the third or fourth time she’s changed subjects she tells him firmly that no knowledge that can help the team is bad knowledge and he lets her be after that.

This night isn’t one of their free study nights. Kakashi has them focus on history, his family library supplemented with choice books from the jounin section of the Konoha library. With the Hokage’s purpose of this team weighing heavily on his mind, he has them studying the founding of Konoha. Naruto has a text on the clans of Konoha laying in his lap, though his focus is on notes from the Uchiha clan that Sasuke had offered when they found out the evening’s study topic. If Naruto seriously wants to be Hokage, he’ll have to know the people he’ll be leading. Sasuke is reading about the founding of ANBU and standard training procedures first created by the Nidaime. While Sasuke doesn’t have any goals beyond fratricide, Kakashi thinks that molding the next generations of the village’s elite protectors might suit him. And Sakura-

Well, Sakura has a veritable mountain of books around her armchair, but the one in her grip isn’t one that Kakashi remembers giving her. Kakashi can see general history books on the founding, the major and minor ninja wars, immigration into Konoha, and even a small tome about the battle at the Valley of the End. He’s mildly alarmed at the origin of the book in her hands. Kakashi just barely remembers seeing the same book in Kushina’s hands, once. It’s the journal of Mito Uzumaki. 

“Sensei,” Sakura repeats, and something about her voice has her teammates looking up as well, “Were we put on this team together because Naruto is the kyuubi jinchuriki?”

Sasuke’s brow furrows immediately in thought. By contrast, Naruto’s eyes go wide and his usually tan face goes concerningly pale. Kakashi pings his chakra to check that the security seals on the house are intact and active. He sets his own book down (a tome on wartime psychology gifted to him by the current Yamanaka head) and turns his full focus to his brightest student. Something like that damning feeling of being handed their files in the Hokage’s office fills him. “What makes you think that, Sakura?”

Once, Sakura might have quailed under the full force of his scrutiny. But he’s proud to see that she glances at her team for moral support and straightens her posture even though he’s not muting his chakra. “It’s a lot of little pieces that I’ve been putting together,” she begins. “At first, I thought that being put on the same team as someone with the sharingan was a political statement. Something like, look at our two oldest kekkei genkai working together. And without other details, that makes sense.” It really does, if you’re looking at it from a political angle instead of a military one. “But that leaves a few loose ends. If they wanted to make a political statement, we would have been under a sensei from a clan, probably the Sarutobi.” Sakura seems to come into herself as she speaks; her confidence only grows as she goes further into her reasoning. “And while the Hatake family have fielded several noteworthy shinobi, they’re not politically powerful in the current village climate.” Kakashi shouldn’t be surprised that Sakura has researched his family. No knowledge is bad knowledge, after all. 

“But then that leaves the third teammate. Choosing someone with no clan and no kekkei genkai would have been the best move if this team was politically motivated.” At this, Sakura looks over at Naruto and something in her gaze settles his fear, even if just a bit. “Naruto is an Uzumkai. Even in the orphanage, they kept his last name. It didn’t take much digging to find out there was an Uzumaki clan.” Kakashi can see Naruto mouth the word clan to himself and curses the Hokage and his edict under his breath. Sakura pauses for a sip of water. “The Uzumaki clan has historical ties to Konoha, sure, which could have explained Naruto being in this team if there was still a clan to make that point. But the Uzumaki clan was decimated and scattered when Uzushio was destroyed.” 

All the air seems to leave Naruto in a gust. Sakura looks unsure, hesitating on the edge of her chair, but Sasuke reaches over and taps Naruto’s shoulder with his fist. Naruto waves Sakura on, looking at the floor. “The Shodaime’s wife was an Uzumaki. Uzumaki Mito. The details are a little fuzzy, but it does seem to line up- Madara Uchiha defected from the village and attacked it, but it’s not widely known that he did this using his sharingan to control the kyuubi.” Sasuke doesn’t seem surprised by that announcement. How much of his clan’s history had been taught to him before they were wiped out? “It’s more widely known that the Shodaime used the mokuton to subdue the tailed beast, but it’s not publicly known what happened from there.” Uzumaki Mito was a fuinjutsu master, as were most of the Uzumaki. While the Shodaime was holding the kyuubi, she used her fuinjutsu skill to seal the tailed beast inside herself. She became the first jinchuriki of the kyuubi.” The journal was a big piece of the puzzle, but Kakashi is still impressed with how well Sakura had gathered the information and slotted it together.

Sakura points at herself. “Mokuton.” She points at Sasuke. “Sharingan.” She doesn’t point at Naruto, but instead looks at him with something sad and gentle in her expression. “And an Uzumaki with startling amounts of chakra, an insane healing factor, born on the night of the last kyuubi attack.” At that Naruto does look up. His eyes meet Sakura’s and something happens there that Kakashi can’t quite name. The end result is a ghost of a smile on Naruto’s face and Sakura turning to look at her sensei with defiance in the set of her jaw. “Were we created as a tailed beast containment squad?”

Sasuke has moved his hand to grip Naruto’s shoulder, his gaze also heavy and insubordinate. Naruto is looking between his two teammates with wonder and hope. Kakashi decides, in this moment, that he won’t lie to his students. They deserve the truth. “Yes.”

“Fuck that!” The expletive comes unexpectedly from Sakura. It startles a laugh out of Naruto and even Sasuke nearly smiles. “We’ll be the best squad Konoha has ever seen, and we’ll do it on our own terms.”

Kakashi watches fondly as Naruto’s grin goes as wide and carefree as usual. “The best ever, believe it!” He puts his fist out into the space between them, which Sakura immediately leans forward and presses her fist into his.

“On our own terms,” Sasuke agrees, and he also reaches out and presses his fist into theirs.

All three of his students look at him expectantly. Kakashi’s heart swells and his eyes prickle with emotion. Maybe before he vowed to make them strong out of fear, but now there is only affection as he reaches out his fist as well. You’ll shake the world, he vows.

[overdueforarevival]

And just like that Whumptober is over for another year!! Wasn't sure I'd make it for a second ngl. Last year I got just over half way through and this year I am a completionist!!! Thank you so much to everyone who has supported my works this month, to everyone over at @whumptober who bring us this joy (and pain) every year. Well done to everybody else who participated, completionist or not you're all amazing!

I suppose I'll have to return to my WIPS now after a month of ignoring them *sighs*.

[spectrumspace]

dang ffn is just unusable in 2024

if anyone knows where to find an animorphs "book 55" fanfic where:

everyone who can morph survives the ships' collision by morphing cockroach

someone recounts an anecdote about not moving an injured body out of a crash while trying to treat menderash, but he tells them to do it anyway since he can't be saved and dies

the gang is kinda of stuck in a weird shared mindscape with ax and some other of the one's victims (they all escape at the end)

marco recounts a story from his childhood where he tried to flush a clarinet down the toilet

the author wrote at least two additional volumes after this one

please let me know 👍

[sylvanfreckles]

If I had the energy for it, my entire Whumptober fic this year would be based around a meta-narrative that all fandoms are parallel worlds in a shared universe a la Kingdom Hearts.

Anyway, I'm compiling my list of fandoms I can write in, ongoing projects or series that might get a new update for Whumptober, gearing up for the main event.

I can already tell you, October 1st is going to be the highly anticipated (lol maybe) third chapter of "Can't Make an Omelet...", wherein Luffy and Zoro have an important conversation about murder.

As is tradition for Whumptober, there'll be at least one addition to "The Flare 'Verse". Something soft and painful, perhaps.

I've had my eye on a third chapter for "Breathless" and "Sunlight" for a while and I think there's a prompt that would fit. And let's not forget "Safety". I've been promising a sequel for that for a while.

More for the "Conspiracy in Stone" series. Maybe another story or two for the "Mama Noceda" series.

And who knows. Maybe I'll find a place for that Supernatural/Resident Evil 7 crossover idea I've been holding onto all this time. We'll have to wait and see!

(Come on, you know you want to see Sam Winchester vs. Lucas Baker.)

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Pick One: Magical Girl Show or Rom-com. You cannot be both.

Early in season four we get the episode Gang of Secrets. An episode that ends with Marinette outing her secret identity to Alya. A touching moment that sparked outrage across the fandom because it meant that Marinette had made the choice to reveal her identity to her best friend while keeping her hero partner in the dark.

This choice spat in the face of the exceptions that many fans had for the series. Thousands of pre-season-four fanfics feature moments where Ladybug and Chat Noir promise each other that they'll be the first to know each other's identities. After the Alya reveal, scores of fanfics were written to salt on Marinette's choice to tell the "wrong" person.

Most of these fics feature a betrayed Chat Noir quitting or otherwise punishing Ladybug for breaking their promise to be each other's first, thereby destroying his faith in their partnership. But that promise was never made on screen. It only existed in the realms of fanfic and, when Chat Noir finally found out in canon, his reaction was largely neutral. He never once blamed Ladybug for her choice or pushed for a reveal or even asked for the right to tell one of his friends.

So what happened here? Why did the fans have such wildly unrealistic expectations of canon? Were their expectations even unrealistic or did canon betray them? The answer to that is not as straight forward as you might think because it all comes back to one of Miraculous' many, many, many writing problems: Miraculous is trying to be both a Magical Girl Show and a romantic comedy, but those are not genres that mesh. You can only be one (or you can be a third thing that we'll get to at the end as it's the easiest way to fix this mess, but I want to mostly focus on where the anger is coming from and why the writing is to blame.)

To discuss this mismatch, we're going to do something that breaks my heart and talk about some of Origins flaws. While I love that episode and unironically refer to it as the best writing the show ever gave us, it's not perfect and its flaws are all focused around trying to set up both genres. Do note that I'm going to use a lot of gender binary language here as magical girl shows have a strong focus on gender segregation and rarely if ever acknowledge gender diversity.

Let's Talk Magical Girls

Magical girl shows are shows that center on young women and their friendships. While male love interests are often present in these shows, the boys tend to take a backseat and function primarily as arm candy while the girls save the day and carry the narrative.

A great example of this is the show Winx Club. This show features a large cast of teenage girls who save the magical universe from various threats with their magical powers. Each girl has a love interest, but the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship. I don't even think that we see the guys fight or, if we do, it's a rare thing. They are not there to save the day. They are there to be shipping fodder.

Like most magical girl shows, Winx Club starts with the main character making friends with one of the girls who will eventually become part of her magical girl squad. This brings us back to Miraculous.

Did you ever find it weird that Origins implies that Marinette has no friends? She doesn't even have a backbone until new girl Alya shows up to become Marinette's First Real Friend:

Marinette: I so wish I can handle Chloé the way you do. Alya: You mean the way Majestia does it. She says all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. (pointing at Chloé) Well, that girl over there is evil, and we are the good people. We can't let her get away with it.

This is a bizarre opening because Miraculous is not about Marinette making friends or learning to stand up for herself. If you skipped Origins and just watched the rest of the show, then you'd have no clue that Marinette wasn't close with her classmates before this year. You also wouldn't know that Alya was new in town and you definitely wouldn't know that Marinette had never stood up to Chloé before this year. So why is this here? Why waste screen time setting up elements that aren't actually important to canon?

Miraculous did it for the same reason that Winx Club did it: magical girl shows traditionally start with the main character making friends with at least one of her eventual female teammates because Magical Girl shows are all about the girls and their relationships. The boys are just arm candy.

But Miraculous isn't a magical girl show. The writers have explicitly stated that it's a rom-com and romantic comedies aren't about female friendship. They might have female friendships in them, but that's not where the focus is. The focus of a rom-com is on the romance and Origins is very clearly all about the romance.

Origins as a Rom-com

Origins has a lot on its plate. It has to establish the villain's motivation for the first time, show us how the heroes got their miraculous, show us how the heroes first met on both sides of the mask, show us how they met their respective best friends, and show us how the heroes dealt with their first akuma. It would be perfectly understandable if this 40 minute two-parter didn't do anything with the romance. They have a full show to give us that!

In spite of this, Origins has some incredibly touching moments for both Ladynoir and Adrienette because romance is the heart of Miraculous. It is the main focus of the show. The driving motivation for both of our leads and the majority of the show's episodes. To tell the story of how their journey started without at least one of them falling in love would feel wrong. That's why we see both of them fall in love!

First we get Chat Noir giving his heart to his bold and brilliant lady, then we get Marinette's heart being stolen by the shy sweet boy who never once thought to blame her for her snap judgement of his character. We even get a touching moment where Chat Noir inspires his lady to accept her role and be Ladybug, leading her to boldly face their enemy and call him out:

Roger: I have a new plan, unlike you! Move aside and let the pros do their thing. You've already failed once! Ladybug: …He's right, you know. If I'd captured Stoneheart's akuma the first time around, none of this would have happened! I knew I wasn't the right one for this job… Cat Noir: No. He's wrong, because without you, she'd no longer be here. (they look at Chloe) And because without us, they won't make it, and we'll prove that to 'em. Trust me on this. Okay? Ladybug: Okay.

I love this moment, but it does lose a little of its power when you remember that we had an Alya-driven variation of this exact same thing five minutes prior:

Alya: HELP!! (Marinette suddenly gets filled with courage. She gets the case out of Alya's bag and puts on the Miraculous. Then, Tikki appears, happy to see Marinette again.) Tikki:(raising her arms) Mmmm! Marinette: I think I need Ladybug! Tikki: I knew you'd come around! Marinette: Well, I'm still not sure I'm up for this, but Alya's in danger. I can't sit back and do nothing.

This scene initially confused me because - if Miraculous is a rom-com - then why would you make Alya the reason that Marinette became Ladybug? Why wouldn't you have Chat Noir be the one in danger so that Marinette chose to fight because of her love interest and then encourage that bond with the later scene of him encouraging her? Why split the focus like this? Why give Alya so much attention?

In case you haven't figured it out, it's because Origins is trying to establish two different genres of show. Two genres that will continue to fight for the rest of the series (or at least the first five seasons).

Magical Girls Vs Rom-com

Why is Alya the one to shake off the nightmare dust and inspire the others during the season five finale? Why is Alya the one that Marinette trusts with all of her plans while Chat Noir is kept in the dark? Why does Alya and Marinette's friendship get so much more focus than Adrien and Nino's? Why was Alya the only temp hero who got upgraded to full time hero?

It's because Alya is Marinette's second in command in a magical girl show and magical girl shows focus on female friendships while the boys are just there to be cute and support the girls.

Why do most of Marinette's talks with Alya focus on Adrien? Why is Chat Noir the only other full time holder of a Miraculous for the first three seasons and then again for the final season? Why do Marinette's friends become more and more obsessed with Adrienentte as the show goes on? Why is the love square's identity reveal given so much more narrative weight than any other identity reveal?

It's because Miraculous is a rom-com and the love square is our end game couple, so of course the story focuses on their relationship above all else!

Are you starting to see the problem?

Circling back to our original question: no, it was not unreasonable for the fans to expect that the Alya reveal would have massive negative consequences for Ladynoir. That is what should happen in a rom-com and Miraculous is mainly written like a rom-com. But the writers are also trying to write a magical girl show and, in a magical girl show, Alya and Marinette's friendship should be the most important relationship in the show, so it makes perfect sense that the show treats the Alya reveal as perfectly fine because the Alya reveal was written from the magical girl show perspective.

When it comes to Miraculous, if you ever feel like a writing choice makes no sense for genre A, re-frame it as a thing from genre B and it suddenly makes perfect sense which is fascinatingly terrible writing! It's no wonder there are people who hate the Alya reveal and people who will defend it with their life. It all depends on which genre elements you've picked up on and clung to. Neither side is right, they've both been set up to have perfectly valid expectations. Whether those expectations are valid for a given episode is entirely up to the mercurial whims of the writers!

How Do We Fix This Mess

At this point, I don't think that we can, the show is too far gone, but if someone gave me the power to change one element of Miraculous, that element would be this: scrap both the magical girl stuff and the rom-com stuff and turn Miraculous into a team show where the friendships transcend gender.

At this point, I've written over a quarter of a million words of fanfic focused on these characters (the brain rot is real) and one thing I've discovered is that it is damn near impossible to keep Adrien and Alya from becoming friends. They're both new to their school while Marinette and Nino have gone to the same school for at least a few years. Alya and Adrien are both obsessed with Ladybug plus Adrien is a natural hype man who loves to support his friends and Alya loves to talk about her blog. Alya is dating Adrien's best friend. On top of that, Alya, Adrien, Nino, and Marinette are all in the same class, meaning that they pretty much have to be spending time together five days a week unless French school don't give kids a chance to socialize or do group projects. If so, then judging them for the first issue, but super jealous of the latter.

Given all of that, why in the world is does it feel like Alya is Marinette's close friend while Adrien is just some guy who goes to Alya's school? Along similar lines, while canon Marinette barely talks to Nino, I've found that Marinette and Nino tend to get along smashingly, especially if you embrace the fact that they have to have known each other for at least a few years.

If you embrace this wider friendship dynamic and scrap the girl squad, replacing it with Alya, Adrien, Marinette, and Nino, then the fight for narrative importance quickly goes away. It's no longer a question of is this episode trying to be a magical girl show or a rom-com? Instead, the question is: which element of the friend group is getting focused on today? The romance or the friendship?

A lot of hero shows do this and do it well. I think that one of the most well known examples is Teen Titans. That show has five main characters and the focus is usually on their friendships, but there is a very clear running romantic tension between the characters Robin and Starfire with several episodes giving a good deal of focus to their romance. I'd say that this element really starts in the show's the 19th episode - Date with Destiny - and it all culminates in the movie that capstones the series: Trouble in Tokyo. The character Beast Boy also gets a romance arc and, while it's more short lived, it's further evidence that you can have strong romances and strong friendships in the same show and even the same episode. You just have to own the fact that boys and girls can be friends with each other, a very logical thing to embrace when your show has decided to have a diverse cast of heroes instead of imposing arbitrary gender limitations on its magical powers.

I couldn't figure out a way to work this into the main essay, but it's relevant so I wanted to quickly point it out and give you more to think about re Origins. Have you ever found it weird how Origins gives both Adrien AND Marinette the "I've never had friends before" backstory and yet wider canon acts like Marinette has this strong amazing friend group while Adrien doesn't seem to care about making friends and instead focuses all his energy on romance? Why give both the protagonist and the supposed deuteragonist this kind of origin if it's not going to be a major element of the show? It makes so much more sense to only give one of them this backstory and then focus that person's character arc on learning about friendship.

[aaa-week]

WELCOME TO AGATHA ALL ALONG WEEK!

All fanart makers & fanfic writers and edits are welcome.

1. What is agatha all along week?

Agatha all along week is being organised by us over at the discord server Evil Hags. People will be provided with a set of prompts for 7 days where they can either make fanart or fanfics (or anything else as long as it follows the prompt for the day.)

2. When is agatha all along week?

December 11th to December 18th

3. Who can you write about?

Anyone! Any of the agatha all along characters. Any ships you prefer, you can make them character/reader or character/character too.

4. Why are we doing this?

So, I was brainstorming over how to get over the depression season finale put us in & realised what better way to do it than gather the community. All of us on discord brainstormed and came up with AUs that we would all want to see.

PROMPT LIST

DAY 1

High School Au OR Single Mom/Teacher Au

DAY 2

non-magic OR band au

DAY 3

unrequited OR politics au

DAY 4

hurt/comfort OR pirates au

DAY 5

vampires OR hanahki au

DAY 6

arranged marriage OR soulmates au

DAY 7

forbidden OR royalty au

EXTRA INFO

• It's not compulsory to do both prompts for the day, you can choose between one or make a mix of both.

• It's not necessary that you post things for all days however it would be fun if you did.

• You can start preparing fanfics & fanart now onwards and on those days you will be posting them accordingly.

• You can post fics on both tumblr & ao3. Please use the tag #aaa week while posting. If you are posting on ao3, make a post on tumblr giving a link to the fic so that we can reblog it.

• If you have any further queries dm @hermslore or join the evil hags discord server to join discussion.

Feel free to reblog as much as you can and spread the word to all your favourite aaa content creators. x

[blackandwhiteandrose]

“Can’t sleep. Going to get the hard drive from Gary’s. Be back soon. Love you.”

Two thoughts simultaneously ricocheted through Adam’s brain competing for his attention.

Noah had left the apartment - to go to Gary’s. Alone.

Noah said “love you��.

-----

Adam's POV during chapter 22 of "Unhinged".

READ IT ON A03.

[queenofwands89]

Do you do fanfic requests? If so I was hoping for maybe an angsty enemies to lovers with Tyler Owens, like they are rivals and just got off on a bad start that spiraled into them hating each other but slowly seeing there's more there but being in denial until maybe like Reader gets injured in a chase or helping someone and Tyler realized how he truly feels? Idk lol. Just need some good angst and hurt comfort.

Stormfront Showdown (Part 1)

Tyler Owens x fem!Stormchaser!reader

Summary: Y/N and Tyler have been longstanding rivals, their past filled with unresolved conflicts and clashing opinions on storm chasing. With vastly different approaches to tracking and studying storms, their heated debates have become legendary. Now, with the upcoming storm chasing convention on the horizon, tensions are set to skyrocket. You know Tyler will be there, and the question is: will this be another explosive encounter, or will the storm finally bring them together in unexpected ways?

Word count: 2262

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, verbal sparring, competition, dumb blonde joke, teasing, a little angsty idk.

Notes: Thank you so much for your request! I apologize for the delay; I recently started school and things have been hectic. I took a bit of creative liberty with your request and turned it into a short series. I hope you don't mind! If anyone wants me to make a taglist, just let me know. I hope you enjoy it—bye! 💜

The storm chaser convention is your annual pilgrimage as a weather enthusiast or professional. The ballroom of the Kansas City Grand Hotel buzzes with anticipation. As you stand at the entrance, your eyes sweep the room with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. You don't particularly enjoy these crowded events, preferring the solitude and precision of your solo chases, but your presence here is a necessary evil—an opportunity to share your findings and emphasize the importance of safety and scientific rigor.

You smooth the front of your blazer, double-checking your notes for the panel discussion. It’s then that you spot him: Tyler Owens. The Tornado Wrangler himself stands surrounded by a throng of fans and admirers, his laughter loud and infectious. His rugged appearance, complete with cowboy boots and a well-worn hat, seems to dominate the room. Boone is there too, camera in hand, capturing every moment for Tyler's YouTube channel. Lily, Dexter, and Dani mingle nearby, each in their element.

You inhale deeply, trying to steady your nerves. The name Tyler Owens epitomizes everything you abhor in storm chasing—recklessness, unchecked bravado, and an insatiable thirst for sensationalism. To you, he is the living antithesis of diligent scientific inquiry and responsible journalism.

Your last encounter with Tyler was nothing short of disastrous. What began as a simple disagreement escalated into a full-blown public feud, broadcasted for the world to see via social media and various news outlets. You had penned a scathing article, meticulously criticizing his methods as dangerous and irresponsible. Your words were sharp, intended to signal a wake-up call not just to him but to the entire community of storm chasers.

Tyler, never one to retreat from controversy, responded with an incendiary video. Filled with passionate retorts and dismissive gestures, his rebuttal ignited a firestorm of reactions, polarizing the storm-chasing community and capturing the attention of a captivated audience.

The bitter memory of this exchange still lingers in your mind, a festering wound that has yet to heal. Now, as you anticipate another face-to-face meeting with him, you feel the weight of that unresolved animosity. You brace yourself for the confrontation that seems as inevitable as the approaching storm you both intend to chase.

The panel is called to order, and the moderator introduces the speakers with a flourish. You take your seat, your heart pounding in your chest. Tyler settles into the chair next to you, flashing a charming smile that belies the tension crackling between you.

"Welcome, everyone," the moderator begins. "Today, we have a diverse panel of storm chasers who will share their unique perspectives on this thrilling and dangerous field. Let's start with you, Y/N. Can you tell us about your approach to storm chasing?"

You take a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking. "I believe storm chasing is an essential tool for advancing our understanding of severe weather phenomena. My approach focuses on meticulous planning, data collection, and public safety. The goal is to minimize risk while maximizing scientific value."

Tyler leans forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he addresses the room. "You know, while I truly appreciate Y/N's unwavering commitment to safety," he begins, his voice smooth and confident, "we sometimes overlook the bigger picture. Storm chasing isn't just about data and caution—it's about raising awareness and capturing the awe-inspiring power of nature."

He pauses for effect, letting his words sink in before flashing a charismatic smile at the crowd. "My team and I, we're not just scientists; we're storytellers. We bring these magnificent storms to the world, showing people a side of nature they rarely see."

His smile widens, eyes sparkling with excitement. "We have a saying in our crew: 'If you feel it, chase it.' Because in those moments of raw, untamed nature, we find our stories, our inspiration."

The room erupts in appreciative murmurs and nods of agreement, some even breaking into applause. Tyler's infectious enthusiasm and charm work their magic, swaying the audience to his perspective, if only for the moment.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Raising awareness is important, Tyler, but not at the expense of safety. Your methods put not just you and your team at risk but also the communities you travel through."

"And your methods," Tyler shoots back, "might yield scientifically valuable data, but they often lack the human element. People need to see the raw, unfiltered power of these storms to understand what we're dealing with."

The panel has been raging on for twenty minutes, each of you firing verbal volleys that keep the audience captivated. The tension is palpable, and it’s clear that you and Tyler aren’t on good terms.

Tyler leans forward, a cocky grin spreading across his face. He’s baiting you, and he knows exactly which buttons to push. "You know, ever since that article you wrote, questioning my methods, I've been wondering. Maybe you're just not a fan of a little excitement? Gotta admit, though, it did spark quite the public feud."

The hint of satisfaction in his voice is unmistakable—he’s reveling in the attention, the controversy, and most of all, the fact that he’s gotten under your skin.

You snap back, your tone fiery and unapologetic. "And with good reason. Your methods are reckless, Tyler. Capturing nature is one thing, but ensuring the safety of our team and the community is paramount. Data collection can be done without playing Russian roulette with our lives."

Tyler smirks, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, but without taking risks, we miss out on the most stunning phenomena. The beauty of a storm isn't just in its data points—it's in the visceral experience."

Your eyes narrow, voice sharp and unyielding. "Visceral experiences are meaningless if they end in tragedy. We need to strike a balance—pushing limits, yes, but with calculated caution. Not reckless abandonment just to feed your adrenaline addiction."

Leaning in slightly, his voice drops to a teasing whisper, "Careful. If you play it too safe, you might end up in a cozy weather office instead of out there chasing the real action."

You raise an eyebrow, your smile icy. "Better a cozy office than a hospital bed, Tyler. Besides, in the office, I can keep an eye on your antics, making sure you don’t turn yourself into a cautionary tale."

Tyler chuckles, clearly unfazed. "Touché. But admit it, you'd miss our epic sparring sessions out in the field."

You smirk back, your tone dripping with sarcasm, "Maybe. But I'd miss watching you lose a battle of wits with a breeze. It's like a real-life dumb blonde joke, but without the punchline."

Boone, with his characteristic enthusiasm, interjects, "You both have valid points! The thrill and the data—can't we find a middle ground here that marries both perspectives?"

Tyler grins at Boone's comment, "Maybe, Boone. But finding that middle ground is easier said than done."

The moderator, sensing the escalating tension and the need to maintain decorum, finally calls for a break. Their calm yet authoritative voice cuts through the cacophony of arguments, bringing a temporary ceasefire.

"Let's take a ten-minute break to gather our thoughts," the moderator says, brokering no argument. "This will give everyone a chance to cool off and reflect."

The announcement is met with a collective exhale from the audience. You can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you step away from the podium, your mind racing with the flurry of ideas and rebuttals. Tyler shoots you a confident smirk, clearly reveling in the public sparring.

As the room buzzes with low conversations and people stretch their legs, you glance towards Boone, Lily, Dexter, and Dani. Boone gives you a thumbs-up, his eyes sparkling with excitement for the next round. Lily offers a supportive nod, while Dexter's contemplative gaze meets yours, as if silently urging you to remain steadfast. Dani approaches you quietly, her concern evident.

"Take a moment to breathe," she advises softly. "You’re doing great, but don’t let him get under your skin."

You nod, appreciating the support as you resolve to keep your composure for the next part of the debate. Tyler may have won the crowd for now, but the debate is far from over.

You step away from the panel, finding solace in a quiet corner of the room. You sip your water, your mind racing with a mix of frustration and determination. A voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Y/N," Tyler says, his tone unusually soft. "Can we talk?"

You turn to face him, your eyes narrowing. "There's not much to say, Tyler. We clearly have different philosophies that will never align."

He sighs, running a hand through his blonde hair. "Look, I know we've had our differences, but we're both here for a reason. We're passionate about what we do. Maybe... just maybe, there's a middle ground we haven't considered."

Before you can respond, a group of Tyler's ardent fans���mostly attractive young women whose adoration for him is barely concealed—swarm in, interrupting your conversation. Their laughter and excited voices fill the air as they clamor for his attention, each holding out their phones for selfies.

"Tyler, can we get a picture with you?"

"You're amazing, Tyler, can you sign this?"

Their voices form a cacophony of admiration and eagerness. Tyler gives you a fleeting look, a glimmer of regret in his eyes. As he turns to handle the eager fans, you seize the moment. You walk away quickly, your strides purposeful and filled with resolve.

By the time Tyler manages to take a few pictures and sign a couple of autographs, he looks up to continue the conversation, but you're already gone. He scans the room, his expression shifting from hope to dejection as he realizes you're nowhere to be seen.

His shoulders slump slightly, and a look of displeasure shadows his face. The admiring fans around him continue their cheerful chatter, but his thoughts are elsewhere. He looks in the direction you went, frustration evident as he contemplates the vanished opportunity to bridge the chasm between you.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

The second day of the storm chaser convention dawns with a swirl of excitement and anticipation. Yesterday had been a whirlwind, with Tyler and you continuing your intense, verbal sparring match during your panel. As soon as it ended, you purposely avoided Tyler for the rest of the day, determined to keep your distance and focus on the upcoming events.

Today, however, is different. You feel a surge of excitement as you head towards the sign-up area for the competition on advanced research—a competition you have won every year. You stride confidently through the bustling convention hall, ready to claim your victory once more.

Approaching the registration table, you're taken aback to see Tyler there, pen in hand, scribbling his name onto the sign-up sheet. Your eyebrows knit together in a mixture of surprise and annoyance as you walk up to him.

"What are you doing here, Tyler?" you ask, folding your arms across your chest. "This competition has strict rules that you couldn't follow even if they were spelled out in neon lights."

Tyler smirks and meets your gaze. "Decided to sign up this year. Thought I'd give you some real competition."

You lock eyes, each ready for a verbal duel. The air between you crackles with tension.

"If you think you can handle it, by all means, try," you retort, your voice tinged with sarcasm. "Just know that this isn't your usual chaotic escapade. This requires precision and knowledge—qualities that, frankly, I don't think you possess."

Tyler chuckles softly. "We'll see about that. Underestimating me might be your biggest mistake."

Before you can continue your exchange, the host of the panel steps up to a microphone, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. The host, a renowned meteorologist named Dr. Sandra Jacobs, greets the crowd with a warm smile and a practiced ease.

"Good morning, everyone! I'm Dr. Sandra Jacobs, and it's my pleasure to welcome you to this year's storm chaser convention!" Dr. Jacobs begins, her voice carrying effortlessly through the room. "As many of you know, this convention is a celebration of the fascinating and often dangerous world of storm chasing. It's a place for experts and enthusiasts alike to share their passion and knowledge."

A murmur of agreement ripples through the crowd as Dr. Jacobs continues.

"One of the highlights of our convention is the competition on advanced research. It's a chance for storm chasers to showcase their findings, methodologies, and innovations in storm tracking and prediction."

Your eyes shift back to Tyler momentarily, a competitive fire igniting within you.

"This year, however, we’ve decided to change things up," Dr. Jacobs announces, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "There will be no rules and no limits! The stakes are higher than ever, with $100,000 in research funding and a special feature on Discovery Plus for the winner!"

A collective gasp and murmurs of surprise and excitement ripple through the crowd. Your eyes widen slightly, processing the unexpected twist. Tyler glances at you, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

"No rules, huh?" he teases, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Looks like your little rule-book speech just got thrown out the window."

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, both frustrated and fueled by the sudden turn of events. You watch him go, your mind already strategizing how to adapt to the new, unpredictable landscape of the competition. The game had just changed, and you are more determined than ever to come out on top.

[godess-of-the-void]

LAST MINUTE CHANGE TO NAME THE PHOENIX-GLAMOUR HYBRID IN MY NECESSARY EVIL FANFIC!!!

The baby is born! But their having difficulty choosing a form.

Jehoel (They/them) is in the lead by one point!

Pyre (He/Him) and Cinne (She/Her) are tied in second place!

Let's make it easy on you guys!

Here's some reminders on what the three names look like!

Jehoel (they/them) = Jehoel is the most human looking. They have their hair up in a short, messy ponytail. They wear a white shirt with black and white sleeves and matching shorts. They also wear a yellow tutu with a matching collar. They also wear orange suspenders with flames. But don't let their human-ness fool you. They have a True Glamour Form! The Firefly! They also smell negative emotions, not just fear. They like to eat both human food and “other meats.” Their favorite food is pizza and ice cream while their favorite “other white meat” is narcissistic abusers.

Pyre (he/him) = Pyre has a bit of a Killer Klown From Outer Space face. He wears an orange top hat with a yellow flower. On his top hat are his flames. He also wears a red jacket similar to a ring master’s. The jacket has yellow pom poms as buttons. He also has white pants and Three Finger Mickey Mouse Gloves. Pyre’s favorite pastime is juggling with fireballs. He's also a bit of a predatorial hunter. His favorite meal is supernatural maneaters and will even trick Killer Klowns to accept him as one of their own before eating them.

Cinne (she/her) = Cinne will inherit her mother's cinnamon smell. While very human-like her face is still a little too close to an uncanny valley and has a bit of a Jack In The box feel to it. Her dress is orange with two yellow stripes on her front. Hem of her dress has flames. She wears a Yellow Minnie Mouse Bow between two large pigtails. on hands are yellow Three Fingered Mickey Mouse Gloves. She prefers human food. She doesn't like to eat meat unless it's hamburgers.

The next two chapters will be the last chapters of the fic with a possible epilogue if the chapters get too long.

If you're wondering what the hell is all this about, then check out my AO3 fic.

[candycandy00]

Once Upon a Time - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Sleeping Beauty featuring Sukuna! After your parents are killed, leaving you as the young queen, you hire the mysterious and violent Sukuna to be your Captain of the Guard to protect you from an evil fairy’s curse. You’re in love with him, but he just keeps refusing you!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Reader as Sleeping Beauty, Sukuna as her Captain of the Guard. Violence/Blood. Rough fingering.

Any feedback is adored! Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear.

It’s a beautiful day in town again, the weather warm, the sky blue with fluffy clouds drifting by, birds singing… and a would be assassin rolling on the ground, screaming in agony as blood pours from his wounds. 

The nondescript man had posed as a villager, smiling to you as you walked by and holding out a peach to you. Villagers often give you small gifts like these. You’re now their queen after the very recent deaths of your parents, themselves killed by an assassin just like the man wailing before you. 

As you reached out to take the peach, thanking him for his generosity, his hands were suddenly sliced from his arms, causing the peach to fall to the now bloody dirt. You looked around in alarm, spotting your Captain of the Guard standing nearby. You hadn’t even seen him draw his sword. 

The Captain, named Sukuna, strolls over and picks up the bloody peach, ignoring the assassin quickly bleeding out beside it. He pulls something tiny, almost invisible, from the fruit. “A needle,” he says, holding it up so that it glints in the sunlight. 

How did he notice that? Oh well, that’s why you made him Captain of your personal guard. “Thank you, Captain. Your vigilance has saved me again.”

The other townsfolk are whispering and looking at the assassin with scared, worried faces. Sukuna raises his leg and brings his boot down on the man’s head, crushing it into a gooey mess. You wish he’d found a more tactful way of disposing of the would be killer. 

You address the townsfolk in your most soothing voice. “I apologize for the trouble. I’ll send someone to clean up this mess as soon as possible. Please continue about your business!”

No more explanation is necessary. Everyone in town knows why a needle is as big a threat to you as a sword. 

When you were an infant, a wicked old fairy laid a curse upon you. If you ever prick your finger on a needle, you will immediately die. Supposedly, a good fairy altered the curse so that you’ll fall into a deep sleep for a hundred years instead of dying, or until certain conditions are met to awaken you. But you’re not certain of that part, and you want no part of any of it either way. 

Your parents were desperate to save you, so they took every precaution. They banned all needles from the castle and refused to allow you to go into town, even after you turned eighteen. Now at age twenty, you’ve been forced to take the role of queen after your parents were murdered three months ago. 

The old fairy of the woods apparently held a grudge. She’s been sending assassins to try to get you to prick your finger, and you highly suspect she’s responsible for what happened to the king and queen. 

Newly without your parents’ protection, your first order of business was hiring a Captain of the Guard who could keep you alive until you found the fairy and put her to death. And as it happened, you met Ryomen Sukuna on the day your parents were buried. 

Bandits attacked your carriage as you were riding back from the cemetery, killing your coachman and two of your best guards before a mysterious man in a cloak appeared. With seconds, he’d cut down seven bandits with his sword, as if they were made of paper. The hood of his cloak fell back, revealing a handsome face lined with black tattoos, and a feral smile as blood sprayed from the bandits and colored him red. 

When finished with the bandits, he approached you, his sword still drawn, his crimson eyes burning with a strange intensity. He was going to kill you. He wasn’t there to save you, but to settle a score with the bandits. As he stepped closer, a bizarre thought entered your mind: I hope he has his way with me first. 

You shook your head to cast the thought aside. Then stared him down, using your most regal voice to say, “Your skills are impressive. I want to hire you to be my Captain of the Guard.”

He paused, a look of amusement on his face. “And why would I want such a job?” 

Ah, his voice was like satin. 

“You would be paid exceptionally well, would live in the castle with all the luxuries that it can provide. Your own private room, all the best foods, authority and power over others…”

“And all I have to do is babysit a princess?” he asked, grinning. 

“Actually,” you said, somewhat haughtily, “I’m a queen now.”

He accepted your offer, and you returned to the castle that day with a new Captain. All your advisors thought it was a terrible idea to give such a position to a man you knew nothing about, but they hadn’t seen his skill, his raw power. If he kept you alive, you didn’t care who he was. 

There’s just one problem. You’re insanely attracted to him! You’ve wanted him from the day you met him, and despite him being so close in proximity to you, he remains frustratingly out of reach. 

On multiple occasions you’ve made it clear that’s he’s welcome in your bed, but he always has the same response: a condescending grin while smugly saying, “You couldn’t handle me, Princess.”

Each time you remind him you’re a queen, not a princess, but by this point it’s obvious that he’s teasing you. 

Now, you find yourself walking through the gardens of your castle after returning from the town, sighing as you look over the sorry state of the roses. Your parents had gotten rid of every rose bush, afraid a thorn would somehow have the same effect as a needle. But you’d accidentally pricked yourself on a thorn at your parents’ funeral, where some well meaning townsperson had given you some roses, and nothing had happened. 

The next day you planted several rose bushes in the gardens, but they’re not doing well. They grew in pots but had not done well enough to be transferred to the ground. 

As you look up from your plants, your heart nearly stops. Two strange men are approaching, already too close to effectively flee from. You turn your head, to call for your Captain, but you remember that he went to wash off the blood from the previous assassin. Still, there should be four other guards nearby, two at each entrance to the gardens. The fact that these men waltzed in and don’t even seem to be in a hurry tells you that all four guards are probably dead. 

And, these men are skilled fighters. 

“Who are you? What are you doing in my gardens?” you ask, trying to get them talking, trying to buy time until Sukuna returns. No matter how skilled they are, he would utterly destroy them. 

One of the men, tall with long shaggy hair and beard, chuckles. “I think you know what we’re here for, Your Majesty.”

The shorter of the two, who looks like he hasn’t bathed in weeks, looks you up and down like a piece of meat. “She’ll really fall asleep if we stick her with a needle?” he asks the other man. 

The taller man shrugs. “Either that or die. The old witch isn’t sure.”

The shorter man looks at you with excitement. “Remember what you promised! I can do whatever I want with her afterwards!”

Your skin crawls with horror. The thought of this disgusting man touching you, even if you’re dead, makes bile threaten to rise in your mouth. 

And it makes you wish even more strongly that Sukuna had lain with you. At least then the first man to touch you would be someone you loved. 

Wait… loved? Do you love him, or just feel lust for him? You suppose it doesn’t matter now. 

“I can give you riches,” you tell them, “beyond anything the old fairy has promised.”

The men glance at each other, then laugh. “She hasn’t promised us any riches,” the taller man says. “I just enjoy killing, and that one there only has one thing on his mind.” He reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling it close while holding a needle in his free hand.  

The shorter man’s face is getting red with anticipation as you struggle to pull your arm free. He licks his lips. “I just want some royal pussy!”

“No!” you shout, slamming your eyes shut as the needle gets closer. 

*************************

Sukuna walks down the lavish hallway, freshly bathed with a new set of clothes. He doesn’t really mind being covered in blood, but his delicate little princess seems bothered by it, even if she doesn’t say so. 

He finds it amusing that she tries so hard to seem strong and in charge. Maybe she thinks she is. Somehow she’s convinced herself that she wants Sukuna to fuck her. He finds the idea laughable. While she is lovely to look at, and he’d enjoy nothing more than splitting her open on his cock, he knows for certain that his tender princess would break too easily. He enjoys this job, this position, far too much to give it up now. 

If he were to act on his desires, he would end up destroying her, and so he keeps himself contained. For now. 

The biggest challenge was when he went into her chambers one night to check on her, moving quietly to avoid waking her, only to find her pleasuring herself in her bed. The sheets were thrown back, her legs spread wide, her back arched as she moaned his name. 

She never realized he was in the room, or how close she came to being absolutely ravaged that night. He remained in a darkened corner, watching, until she finished with a cry of pleasure. He snuck back out as soon as she fell asleep.

Lately she’s been occupying more and more of his thoughts, and he doesn’t like it. He’s been with countless women, never getting attached or even remembering their names. Outside the protected castle town, Sukuna was infamous for being a violent murderer who could never be tamed or subdued. Even he didn’t know why he accepted her offer to be Captain of the Guard in the first place. It was far more like him to slit her pretty throat and leave her bleeding out on the ground. 

But the more time he spends with her, the more times he watches this weak little royal try to be brave, the more endeared she becomes to him 

As he nears the gardens, trying to dispel all these thoughts from his mind, he notices something up ahead: the two guards who were watching the entrance are lying on the ground in pools of blood. Knowing exactly what this means, Sukuna breaks into a sprint while drawing his sword. 

Running through the gardens, he spots his princess, desperately struggling against two men, one of them gripping her hand. 

He hears one of them say, “I just want some royal pussy!” and suddenly his blood is boiling. He sees the needle in the other man’s hand, getting close to one of her fingers, and he wonders if he’ll reach her in time. 

Suddenly his princess kicks a pot by her feet, holding a withered plant. The pot hits the man in the leg, distracting him enough to loosen his grip. Sukuna grins as he watches her pull free and turn to see him running toward her. 

“Captain!” she calls, relief evident on her face. 

The other two men notice him just before he reaches them, and they turn to flee, but they’re too slow. He catches up to them in seconds, swinging his sword in an arc that cuts both of them down. 

As they lay on the ground bleeding, Sukuna stands over them, his red eyes flashing with anger. “You fuckers thought you could touch her?” he asks, stabbing into the shorter one’s stomach and twisting the blade. The man howls in agony, but Sukuna doesn’t stop. “What were you saying? That you wanted some royal pussy?” He pulls the sword out and stabs it into the man’s groin, drawing another scream. 

Finally the man dies, and Sukuna turns his attention to the other man, who is lying helplessly in a pool of his own urine. Sukuna is so disgusted, he finishes the man off quickly with a stab to the heart. 

He turns to his princess, wondering what sort of expression she’ll be wearing. This is the closest assassins have ever came to actually pricking her finger. 

Her face looks passive, calm, as she huffs and crosses her arms. “You’re late, Captain.”

She can’t fool Sukuna. He sees the way her hands tremble before she balls them into fists, hears the way her voice quivers even as she tries desperately to project nonchalance. 

He remembers hearing from a servant that the princess refused to cry when her beloved parents were murdered. She had immediately realized she was queen now, and she has a duty to hold this kingdom together in a time of turmoil. And so she pretends to be made of stone. 

For over three months straight, she’s been wearing a steel mask, never letting it slip even once. Watching her stand there, clearly shaken and afraid, he wants to rip that mask off. But he won’t. At least not here and now. 

“Didn’t expect two attempts in the same day,” he says, mimicking her casual tone. “The old bitch must be getting impatient.”

“I’m going inside,” she says, walking past him quickly. He follows behind, stepping over the guards’ corpses. She had only stopped for a moment to look at them, her face blank as she gave a small bow of respect. Now she’s walking swiftly to her chambers, and once inside, Sukuna shuts the door behind him. 

She looks up as if surprised to see him. “I wish to be alone for a moment,” she says. “Please wait outside my door.”

He steps closer until he’s right in front of her. “You’re trembling,” he tells her, placing one hand on her shoulder. 

A tiny flicker of panic flashes across her face, but she quickly recovers. “I am not trembling! I’m just… I just…”

He looks down at her, his face softening. “You don’t have to feign strength with me, Princess. In all the world, the one place you can let yourself be weak is by my side.”

Her eyes are becoming wet as they stare up at him. He moves his hand from her shoulder to her face, his fingers gently grazing her cheek. 

“I was terrified,” she whispers. “The things they planned to do to me… I can’t bear the thought!”

Sukuna feels the powerful urge to comfort her, to draw her into his arms, but he maintains his control. Instead, his hand slides down a bit, caressing her jaw, his thumb rubbing over her plump, painted lips. He leans in closer. He wants to kiss her, to claim her, but he won’t. He pulls away, deciding he needs to put some distance between the two of them, lest he do something he’ll regret. 

A look of hurt passes over her features as he turns away from her and walks a few steps away. 

That’s when he hears her voice behind him, still fragile and raw, say, “Coward!”

He freezes. The word sends a spike of anger through him, bordering on rage. He stomps back to her, not knowing if he wants to kiss her or hit her. She’s looking up at him defiantly. 

“You don’t even know what you’re saying,” he says, his voice low, dangerous. “You want a man like me to fuck you, a dainty virgin princess? I’d tear you apart.”

Her expression doesn’t change. “Stop acting like I’m some lovesick teenager. I’m a grown woman. And I’m a queen, not a princess.”

Something in him snaps. He moves forward, closing the small distance between them in three steps, and roughly turns her around to face the tall window in her bedroom. His hands yank up her dress, diving under the layers of satin and lace, finding the flimsy panties beneath and ripping them off. She makes a sound, something between a gasp and a cry, clearly surprised. 

One hand shoves between her soft thighs, squeezing and groping the delicate flesh there, feeling how wet and slippery she already is. His callused fingers, the fingers of a killer who never should have been anywhere near this woman, part her slick folds and find her sensitive clit. He rubs it harshly, having no experience being gentle with anyone. 

She cries out, her shaking legs buckling beneath her. He wraps one arm around her chest, under her arms, holding her upright as his other hand relentlessly strokes her most tender places. Her quick, shuddering breaths are like music to him as he finally releases her clit and instead plunges one thick finger into her tiny, dripping hole. 

*****************************

This is what you want, what you’ve wanted for three months: Sukuna’s hands on you, pleasuring you, his firm body pressed against yours. 

His fingers are rough, one of them shoving inside you, making you jerk. And when he pushes a second one in, you feel a sting as your body stretches around him. You whimper, your body already collapsed and being held up by him. 

Then you hear his voice in your ear, “You want my cock but you can’t even handle my fingers, princess.”

He’s pumping them in and out, his palm rubbing against your aching clit. You let out a moan that sounds more like a sob, your hands gripping his arm. “Please,” you say, your voice broken, desperate for release, “m-make me cum!”

You can feel his hot breath on your neck as his fingers curl inside you, touching something that’s never been touched before. You scream, your body going completely limp in his grasp. You cum in his arms, twitching with pleasure, your pussy sore and stinging from the two fingers still lodged inside it. 

He keeps them there until you ride out your orgasm, then finally withdraws them and lowers your spent body to the floor. You’re left on your knees, panting, your own fluids dripping out of you. It takes you a moment to realize your face is wet with tears. Were you crying? 

You look up in time to see him licking his fingers clean, and the lewd sight has you hungering for more. You stare at him expectantly, waiting for him to tear your dress off and have his way with you. Instead, he gives you a disdainful look. 

“That’s all you’re getting from me. I’m not going to ruin you,” he says. 

“You keep saying that! Maybe I want you to ruin me!”

He looks down at you, red eyes gleaming with anger. “You turned into a crying mess when I put two fingers in you. What do you think will happen if I shove my whole cock into that tight little pussy?”

You glare back at him. “I don’t know, but I’d like to find out!”

He grumbles something under his breath, then turns away from you again. It almost sounded like he said, “Don’t tempt me”. 

You practically growl in frustration as you climb to your feet and head to your private washroom to clean up. 

It’s later in the evening when you’re standing in your room, looking out the very window he pressed you against earlier. You touch the glass, remembering how his fingers felt. You turn around, angry at yourself for getting heated again, angry at him for leaving you unsatisfied. You could die or fall into a deep sleep at any moment! Why can’t he understand that you want to be with him before that happens? 

You feel something soft brush against your ankle, and you look down to see Briar, the cat that lives in the castle to kill rats, rubbing his face on you. Bending down, you scoop him up and pet his back. “Have you been doing your job properly?” you ask, scratching his ears as he purrs. 

You hear your door opening and look over to see Sukuna walking in. He hasn’t spoken to you since the… incident earlier. Will he apologize? Or maybe tell you he’s leaving? He’s an unpredictable one. You brace yourself for whatever he has to say, your hand absently rubbing Briar’s fur. 

Suddenly you feel something sharp. You wince and Briar jumps down from your arms. You look at your finer, seeing one tiny drop of blood. 

Oh no. 

The conniving old fairy used the cat! 

You look up at Sukuna, holding up your finger. There’s a look of horror on his face as he breaks into a run. But it’s too late. Everything is going dark. You hear him shouting your name, feel his strong arms catch you before you hit the floor, but your eyes slide closed, and you see nothing more. 

[seriiousgiirl]

Sweet Juice

Severus Snape x Alumni!reader.

NFSW! Basically (fluffy) smut with a massive plot. //! Incorrect use of Potions.

Severus is 30 years old in this fic, you are 23, minor age gap. 

Summary: Ever since your youth, you were passionate about the art of Potions. Luckily, during your time at Hogwarts, you found a mentor in the strict and cold Professor Snape. Having made a habit of spending hours after class talking to him, all of this came to an abrupt end during your final year. Leaving you in a total mystery, with no answers.  It was only years later that you took your revenge, in the hope of moving on. Not suspecting that it would bring you face to face with your deepest desires. 

A/N: I admit I could have turned this into a multi-chapter fanfic, but I figured that would break the rhythm, so enjoy this long read! This fic is inspired by ‘Sweet Juice’ by Purple Kiss, go stream it for a better life! Trust me (;

Word count: 14k. (hehe)

"Ah- Miss Y/f/n, please accept this price. It is an honour to be able to reward young talents like yourself." The little cup was hurriedly placed in your hands.

"It is an honour to be awarded with this prestigious prize," You politely thanked the crowd.

Your eyes lingered on the name of the prize, ‘Research & Development, winner of the best potion of the year'. And without even realising it, your lips drew a somewhat smug smile. Standing upright, ready to have your photo done, to appear in the next edition of the Daily Prophet, with pride, you held the cup in your hands. In that busy room, you were the youngest. And yet, you are the one who has been praised for your achievements. Earning jealous glares from the potion makers, who coveted it as much as you did.

"Miss, can you tell us more about your potion, how did you get the idea?" You were asked, for what you guessed was now an actual interview.

"I wanted to be able to help the Wizards and Witches to unwind more easily, it is sometimes difficult to let go of work pressure and its boredom. That is why I decided to study Amortentia, and its derivations, in order to create a potion capable of releasing in us the hormones necessary to enjoy ourselves... Without the negative effects of the ancient Potions." You explained, in the simplest way possible to the journalists.

"So it's a potion that gets you aroused?" One adds.

You frowned, a little offended by this shortcut, "Yes, in theory, but it goes deeper than that. Otherwise, I wouldn't be rewarded today. But if you want to know, you have to taste it... All the reviews have been very positive." You commented, with a wink. 

To summarise months, almost a whole year of research, is almost an insult to your work. Amortentia is one of the most dangerous potions. Studying it to the point of understanding its mechanism and removing the obsession it causes, was the greatest achievement of the process. The rest was just a series of experiments, an understanding of the human body and its hormones, and it was done. 

The result was prodigious, it brought a sense of relaxation, without the risk of an eternal sleep like the Draught of Peace. Comfort and love, without the risk of being manipulated by an evil liquid. And then, depending on the quantity used, the effects could be more or less intense, but never dangerous. Quite remarkable, considering all the side effects that most Potions could provide. 

You deserve your reward tonight for many reasons, no one else has been able to do it in the past.

“Have you always held an interest in the subject?" The interview proceeded, to have some content for the beloved magazine.

"Yes, since my school days at Hogwarts. I quickly found a vocation in the subject, expressing my talents at an early age.” You paused, before continuing, "But it would never have been possible without the support of my teacher and mentor, Severus Snape, who taught me everything. His talent is second to none, and next to it, I am nobody, even after tonight." You humbly added, with another smile.

At the end of this sentence, your eyes searched for a certain dark silhouette. 

Unlike earlier, that smile was particularly forced on your lips. To say that he had supported you was a fine lie. While at first he was indeed ‘supporting’ you (more like a tolerating you), graciously accepting you to attend his prestigious private Potion club, the entirety of your last year was a failure. 

In your first years, you never had to face his wrath and nasty comments, simply because he couldn't blame you for anything. Your work was perfect, from theory to application. But to him, you were nothing.

With time, and your growing skills, things changed. There was a time when you even assumed that an understanding had developed between the two of you, you were not friends, it was impossible with such a man, but it wasn’t nothing either. Eventually, the discussions after class or the club, sharing theories and experiences, became quite regular. Sometimes up to dinner hour, and even after curfew, the time went by so quickly in these periods, as neither of you paid attention, caught up in the interaction. After all, the discussions were very entertaining, between two Potions enthusiasts, and you gained a lot of knowledge from them.

Perhaps because you had succeeded to raise his esteem for you, Professor Snape, during class, would give you one of his infrequent compliments on your methods, or provide you with advice while experiencing in the club. Over time, you came to really treasure this exclusive ‘bond’, with such a cold and distant person. It would be a lie to say that in every class, your shared private discussions weren't the moment you were most looking forward to. You felt special.

You couldn't remember exactly when or how this routine started, it had developed naturally during the end of your fifth year and lasted all the way through to the sixth. However, you could remember bitterly how it had ended. 

By the start of your final year at Hogwarts, a cold shoulder from Professor Snape had begun to creep between the two of you. He no longer commented on your work, or even dared to give you one of his rare compliments. It was simply as if you didn't even exist. This drastic change was particularly noticeable when you tried to revive another discussion after class, only to be rejected. 'I don't have time Miss Y/f/n', 'I've got too much work', 'Go, and revise', these were, obviously, bland excuses. 

You had spent time thinking about it, trying to understand this radical change, but nothing could be found. The discussions had never overflowed on personal information, at least on his side, you - You had been more talkative. And again, nothing major, just simple information like your preferences in terms of flowers, cake flavours, and favourite literature. It never looked like it bothered him to listen to you, and yet strangely enough it seemed to interest him. But, in the end, most of the talk was about Potions, nothing odd that should have ended it all brutally.

In the course of your discussions, you had always expressed an interest in a career in the field, and Professor Snape had consequently supported you (in his own way) in this idea. In all honesty, having his approval really encouraged you. Until, once again, your senior year. While you had been able to get decent, if not perfect, results up to this point, the downfall continued when you saw your grades drop for unfair reasons. You had never witnessed his unfair grading, but when you became one of his victims, he was unforgiving towards your harmless mistakes. It was as if he was trying to ruin your future career as a potion maker.

All this unjustified hatred, discouraged you, but not to the point of giving up your aspiration, otherwise you wouldn't be standing there with the precious prize in your hands. 

Was it some kind of revenge? Definitely. 

Mentioning Severus in your ‘thank you speech’ was perfectly legitimate, he had given you more than anyone else in your life. But, even though you kept telling yourself that it was already 3 years ago and it belonged to the past, your heart was still broken, disappointed. And by his presence tonight, you were hoping to finally put an end to it all. Snape had witnessed your happiness, you had won, the revenge was completed. Time to move on. 

However, it was easier to convince yourself than to apply it. It would be wrong to claim that you hadn't worked hard to impress him. Ever since that cold war between you two, no matter how strange it may seem, you couldn't get over it. 

Sometimes, in your most private moments, you would close your eyes in the hope of being able to remember. The damp smell of the dungeons invading your nostrils, your teacher's deep voice echoing within the cold walls to your ears, praising you how well you had worked. His dark eyes focused on you, and only you. In fact, the intensity of his dark gaze could suffocate you, and yet you would not care. You desperately wanted to reclaim that relationship, as someone to whom he would give his precious time, where he would share his passions anew, a time when in his mind you existed and were important. And no matter how embarrassing it was, the idea of finding pleasure in these memories was enough to make your knickers wet.

At the time, you had convinced yourself that you were not holding any affection regarding your Professor… Another fine lie from you, obviously. It had taken a few years to come to this conclusion, to get out of the denial of this forbidden love. But now it was clear and explained a lot concerning your addiction and pain. The feeling of anticipation at the end of each lesson, the way you would pour your soul into the subject in the hope of receiving a ‘compliment’... Or simply the way you kept seeking for his attention, even after years. Nothing about this behaviour was appropriate, regardless how hard you tried to maintain the classic student-teacher relationship, on your own. 

Perhaps Snape had even realised this, explaining the sudden cessation of your individual time together. 

And even though, with hindsight, you should have felt guilty, you couldn't throw away that attachment. It was as if he had put a spell on you, that the lack of contact with him since you graduated from Hogwarts had reinforced that love. 

But today was different, it was your revenge, your mourning over this period of your life. 

The sound of the camera flashes snapped you out of your thoughts. The lights blinded your eyes for a moment, and you blinked frantically to regain your sight. Hoping that the pictures would look nice on the magazine...

"Well, congratulations Miss Y/f/n, we hope to see your Potion soon on the market amongst our merchants. I can’t wait to taste it, as you have suggested." The interview ended on this note, and the journalists dismissed themselves to make room for those who wished to thank you or congratulate you in person. 

Thus, you were greeted with a new wave of questions, of praises, mostly it was older wizards and witches who were attending the event, and thus more 'experienced' than you in Potions. Their words tasted like hypocrisy, but you accepted everything with a polite smile. You actually enjoyed the attention, although deep down it was a particular Potions Master you were looking for, so it all went over your head. After a few moments you managed to escape from the conversation that had been built around the right to use the Felix Felixis at the Ministry's work, to get yourself a glass of alcohol from the buffet. 

The taste of alcohol eased your nerves, rejoicing in the moment of calm you just gave yourself after all the attention you received. But the moment was short.

“Miss Y/f/n. How fortuitous to find you here." A voice commented sarcastically on your presence at the bar. 

There was no need to look up at the person speaking to you because you already knew who he was. His deep voice was like a melody, a music composed by the finest musicians of this world. How, Merlin, you truly missed it…

“Professor Snape- Hum, or should I say Severus now that we are colleagues?” You answered him a little too smoothly for your taste, One drink and my anger is already forgotten? I need to get my act together!

“Snape will do, we are not direct colleagues. Let's keep some formality.” He replied somewhat distantly. Ouch- Years did not seem to have quieted the hatred he had against you.

You had not yet looked up to him, postponing the moment when you would be blessed with his physical presence. But you could see from the corner of your eye that he was pouring himself a shot glass of what seemed to be a fire whiskey.

"I must say that I am surprised that the award was given to you tonight... However, it would be wrong not to congratulate you." Severus began slowly, as if preventing himself from saying too much. “But…”

“But?” Your voice cut him off, a mixture of excitement and sheer joy at the thought of receiving praise from your dear Professor. This special praise you had been longing for. 

"But-” He sighed as if you had annoyed him, “I object to the fact that my teachings have led you to produce such a grotesque Potion." 

If your eyes had been glued to your glass since the beginning of the conversation fearing to feel butterflies in your stomach at the sight of Severus, you suddenly raised them, eyes wide with surprise. And in your stomach, anger. How dare he humiliate my work like that?

However, you were at a loss for words. He hadn't changed at all, he hadn't even made the effort to wear another suit for the event. He remained the same man as when you left him. Your eyes fell on his face, he had a neutral expression, as if his hurtful words were the most well-deserved ones. His eyes were on you, but because of the dim light and his dark pupils it was impossible for you to discern any judgement within. Otherwise, his hair was still the same length, falling gently over his shoulders, soft… His hooked nose made him look sterner than ever, and the crease between his over-frowned eyebrows did not seem to have increased.

He was still the same man, the one you were so fond of, and that made it more difficult. 

But it was as if you two had evolved in two different time spaces. It had only been two years since you left Hogwarts, and it was certain that the occasional times you ran into a former classmate, they all had trouble recognising you. Obviously, you have grown in maturity through your work. You were no longer a young girl, you were a woman, a lady, with stature and respect. You were even certain that if your name wasn't mentioned at your prize-giving, Severus wouldn't have known who you are. 

"A grotesque potion?” You took back his words, insulted, “You know perfectly well all the work that lies behind it. I explained it in a briefing for the association. You must have read it, right?" You tried to hide the irritation in your voice.

"I read it, of course. And although I must admit that it was all a tremendous amount of hard work... All these efforts, for such a clownish result, is disappointing."

You couldn't help but stare at him in disbelief. You were supposed to be the one to get your revenge tonight. And here you are, in the shoes of the student you used to be in your last year, being jeered for your hard work. His words were harsh, and perhaps because they came from your professor, they hurt you badly. 

"The mere fact that I am the one who taught you everything is even more terrible." He added nonchalantly, bringing his glass to his lips. 

You remained quiet, thinking of all the things you could say to him. After all, he was no longer your instructor, Severus no longer had superiority over you. What can he do now, if I snapped at him? Expel me from Hogwarts? Perhaps, it was the moment for you to confess everything that was weighing on your heart. How his coldness and distance had made you miserable. 

"I thought it was only fair to thank you in my speech." You retorted, "But as far as I can see, you don't even want to be associated with me anymore, even as a mere tutor. Your hatred of me, I don't know where it comes from, but it's all unfair. This was supposed to be my special night. But now you've ruined it.” You hesitated before speaking again, “Like you’ve ruined my seventh year at Hogwarts."

Severus’ face remained as neutral as ever, but in his posture you felt a kind of irritation, he was caught off guard by your curt reply. Well, he must understand that I won't take his nastiness easily anymore. 

However, you took no pleasure in giving him this answer. You had imagined many scenarios about your reunion... You had hoped that he would apologise, show that he felt sorry for having been cold to you, and in the more realistic scenario simply shake your hand, congratulate you and that was it. In no way, had you expected that he would remain so hostile. 

A heavy silence fell between the two of you. His lack of response bothered you further, so you grabbed your glass and finished it straight down. "I'm going to get some air, if anyone is looking for me." Your voice was less angry, as your throat tightened dangerously, poised to burst into tears and it was slightly audible. It was a disaster.

You took your trophy with great care, the only thing that gave you comfort, and left without even bowing to Severus. You were never going to see him again in your life anyway. 

The evening of the association for Potions makers of Great Britain (or simply those with an interest for the discipline), was held in the large manor house of the current Chairman. After escaping from the hall where the main event was taking place, you looked for a way out to the garden. Your heels clicked on the marble floor, echoing in the various empty corridors. The laughter and voices of the party began to fade with each step you took. 

You were getting away from these jealous and condescending people and above all, from Severus. Good, you didn't feel like crying miserably in front of everyone. Your hopes were already destroyed, your ego wasn't going to be the next crime. After a moment, you spotted a windowed door leading to the backyard and quickly rushed to open it, taking a deep breath of air in desperation. 

Stepping out completely, you were pleasantly surprised to discover the lovely atmosphere. The garden was well tended with bushes of various flowers and the grass was green and healthy, while lanterns lightened the path leading to the depths of the garden. You were caught up in the sense of peace and quiet that it gave you, feeling much more comfortable on your own. 

It was summer, late August, school was beginning soon, work was about to restart and the merchants would soon be back in business. But it was already late, the moon was already high in the sky, almost full, and the stars shone brightly in the country sky away from London's city lights. The air was a bit fresh, but cold enough to get your mind back in order without freezing in your evening gown, which was quite revealing… But still elegant and pretty.

Venturing into the garden you finally found a bench to settle down on and think about what just happened, alone. Your eyes lifted to the magnificent starry sky before you, and its darkness made you think of Severus... The way his pupils were fixed on you, the image replayed in your mind... Over and over. You wanted to despise him for his behaviour, he had broken your heart! Not to feed your already distracted mind with lusty thoughts. Did he, at least, appreciate the sight of me in this dress? Your mind began to wander in a dangerous area, and you needed to stop right now.  

Severus had been nothing but spiteful, he hadn't changed for sure, whether it was physically or mentally. And yet... You couldn't hate him in the slightest. It all seemed wrong on his part, as if he was forcing himself. Pushing you away. 

You sighed, it was truly a disaster, you were frustrated with Severus, with yourself. Tonight was about revenge, moving on was the main mission and now you were fantasising all over again, like the flame of your love had been rekindled. 

A tear rolled down your cheek from sheer frustration, disappointment in yourself. Then one tear broke into a silent cry. Were you doomed to love a man you will never see again, who is out of reach and seems to be loathing you? Put like this, it was as if you enjoyed suffering. 

Now, you had no desire to return to the house with the other members, the possibility of running into Snape again and worsening your mental state, made you dread the prospect. Great, he had won and definitely broken your heart. 

It was decided, you were going to stay there, with your trophy in your arms and with a bit of luck you will be able to leave unnoticed by floo powder. The plan seemed reasonable. 

But fate seemed to have decided otherwise. 

You jumped when you heard someone cough to get your attention. You were so deep in thought, your eyes fixed on the sky, that you didn't hear anyone approaching you. Your little moment of peace had been ruined, and you frowned as your eyes fell on the culprit. Severus’ brooding silhouette in the darkness of the garden lived up to his Hogwarts reputation as a bat. 

You sniffed, "What are you doing here? Go away. You've already hurt me enough, there's no need to make it worse, I heard your nasty comments once already." In your pathetic state you asked Severus rather rudely to leave. 

There was a small silence before it was broken by his voice, "Are you crying?"

You couldn't make out his face, so you concluded that he couldn't see yours either. You hesitated between telling the truth or lying before answering, “Why do you care…?” Your voice was weak, in no way hiding the truth. 

“I asked you a question, Y/n” He persisted.

Hearing his voice pronounce your first name, as he used to do when you were in private conversation, made you weak in the knees, much more than you would have liked to acknowledge. 

"I, hum... Yes." You replied, sobbing quietly. Resistance will only make things worse. 

"It's a wonder you've managed to make a respectable place for yourself in the business, with such a weak mind." But unlike earlier his voice was gentler, firm, but gentle. "I've talked a bit with some of your fellow peers, people who have been around you for the past few years. Supporting you in carrying out your work… Believing in this project of yours.” He paused for another moment. 

You didn't know what he was getting at, confusion all over your face. The people you had surrounded yourself with for work were not in attendance tonight. They were mostly former students just like yourself, who had attended the advanced Potions class. If they were absent tonight it is because in their research of Potions, unlike you, they had not managed to produce a viable solution. 

In the darkness, you discerned him taking his place beside you on the bench. The warmth of his body spreading over your arm, allows you to evaluate how close you were to each other. And the answer was easy, very close. You could smell the light scent of his fragrance, a bit musky, the bare skin of your arm was grazing against the thick fabric of his frock coat, and it was a miracle that he was still able to breathe under all those layers in this warm weather. You noticed that it was the first time he was so close to you, usually he would keep his distance. His desk or the potions station had always been a well-respected barrier between the two of you. And thus, it made you a bit timid.

"Well, talking…” He spoke sarcastically to rectify himself, “I’ve exchanged letters with them. Checking on my former students, those you are working with now. Ensuring that everything was going well for you." He emphasised the last part of his sentence. 

And Severus doesn't need to amplify his words, for you to understand what he was implying secretly. 

Severus had checked on you, taking news through his letters over the past two years. 

Each of his words hit you straight in the heart, making it pound faster each time. You thanked Merlin for the obscurity, because between your tears that must have drenched your makeup and the crimson spreading over your cheeks, the sight must be pretty dramatic. 

"Why didn't you send an owl directly to me?" Your voice was still weak, but your tears had ceased. You ran your delicate hand over your cheeks to remove the remaining tears. 

You heard Severus sigh quietly at your question. It took him a while to answer, as if he was tortured to answer honestly or lying, hesitating in the same way you did a few moments ago with his question. “It’s complicated.” Severus opted to be vague, "In any case, I've got nothing but praise for your work or even your person... They like you just the same as they did back at Hogwarts."

You didn't know if your mind was playing tricks on you by wanting to romanticise everything, but in his voice there was a faint hint of nostalgia. Severus' note brought a smile to your lips, "I'm glad to hear that, I appreciate them as well. At least they're not hypocrites like everyone else tonight..." Your honesty seemed to catch what sounded like a quiet chuckle from your former Professor. 

"I must grant you, Y/n... That my words were harsh against you." Severus' voice regained its usual firm tone, "But I must confess, that such a potion, with such utility, surprises me coming from you."

That was what you guessed, his form of apology, and you accepted the way it was. "It is true that in my youth I never showed any interest in Healing Potions. What interested me the most were Poisons... But Amortentia is a poison like any other, in its own way, and research can lead us to expand our minds, can't they?” The fact that Severus knew perfectly your preferences in the area, made it easier to explain. "And then, with hindsight, I'm proud that my invention helps people, rather than killing them."

Severus nodded quietly, indicating that he fully understood the meaning of your words, as you had hoped he would. He seemed to remember all the information you had told him about yourself three years ago. That made you more than happy.  

“‘Sweet juice’, that's how you named it?” He spoke with sarcasm, gently mocking. 

It was your turn to sweetly chuckle, “No! I had originally named it 'Aquae dulcis', from the Latin ‘peaceful liquid’... But for the promotion, I was advised to change the name to a more sales-oriented one, which would fit better with my image as a lady.”

"I was wondering why the name doesn't match you… I've got my answer." He sounded somewhat relieved, "Many people have mentioned the taste." Severus sounded less reticent over your Potion, it was even if he was aware of the feedbacks that were provided in order to boost the pre-sales. 

"Ah- yes, the taste... That's what gives the potion its reputation for being arousing." You sighed a little embarrassed to talk about this with him, “Unlike many Potions, with a disgusting taste… Mine is sweet. The liquid drips slowly down the throat, the taste hooked up everyone wishing to take it. The feeling is strange to describe, and actually I can’t… Like a flame, it all burns, it all gets on, the throat-burning sensation is taboo.” You added the last part of your sentence in a whisper due to the embarrassing nature of your language. It sounded sexual, you must admit. 

Again there was silence and you wished you hadn't said what you revealed about this special taste, fearing that you had gone too far and brought your former teacher into equal discomfort. 

But he answered with an unexpected thought, “I’m curious about the experience.” You caught your breath surprised, not even realising that you had stopped for a moment out of fear,  "No potions so far have managed to ease my nerves. The Draught of Peace made me feel like I was too tired to continue working properly, so I stopped years ago. And if there's one time when I'm extremely irritable, it's at work, or when I'm grading papers… Especially when I grade the papers.” It was as if Severus was 'justifying' himself for wishing to try it. But deep down, some peace would only do him good. 

"Only a few drops then, otherwise you'll regret the tiredness you got from the Draught of Peace when you'll feel aroused during your teaching." Even yourself was surprised by the bold words you used.

Thankfully Severus took less time to answer than last time, "Of course. I'll be careful. I'll give you a personal feedback on my impressions over the next few days following the start of term."

"Send the owl directly to me this time, it would be unfortunate if anyone found out you had an 'uncomfortable issue' because of my Potion." You laughed softly, clearly more comfortable around him. You were both adults now, fellow colleagues in the Potions discipline, you have the right to tease him about the unwanted side effects.

Well, unwanted for Severus’ case. You knew that many were looking forward to taking bigger doses... Precisely to get horny. 

“I will Y/n,” He answered in a tone that seemed to be almost as amused. 

“So… You want it, you want some Sweet Juice?” You ask him, hardly believing that you were asking Severus Snape, your cold former professor, if he wanted a stash of your own (arousing) Potion. 

"If you don't mind, as it will only be sold on the mid-September market, if I understand correctly. I will, of course, pay for anything you may want to send me." He firmly says, 

You shook your head sharply, "Absolutely not, I'll send you these for free as a thank-you. And before school starts, so everything will be ready for you to face those annoying and incompetent first years." 

Severus sighs, a mixture of exasperation and relief. Exasperation because you were strict about him not paying you for anything, relief at the idea of finally having a solution to calm his tense nerves. “Stubborn as ever, I see. You may have changed physically, mentally you’re still the same.”

His little statement had the power to make your cheeks even more flushed. So he noticed that I had changed… That I’m now a lady. “Thank you, I guess?” You had no idea how to reply to that. 

"That's a compliment.” He clarified for you, “You are, indeed, now… Excuse my choice of words- a pretty woman. But besides your appearance, you are blossoming in what you always dreamed of, with a remarkable career start. It's a good thing you've kept parts of yourself intact, fame must not go to your head. But you are a reasonable lady, I know everything will be fine." It was Severus' turn to be a bit awkward with his words.

His compliment went straight to your heart and seemed to soothe all the pain you had felt over the last few years. However, in his tone, Severus sounded as if he wanted to keep his words strictly formal, as he had always done even in your deepest discussions in the past. 

"Thank you Severu- Hm, Snape.” You hated how easy it was for you to say his first name, when he had just corrected you a few moments before. However, he didn't correct you this time, letting that minor error slide. 

You indulged in the peaceful silence that settled between the two of you. The way the conversation had progressed was comparable to the ones you had in the past, if not more comfortable. Two enthusiasts discussing about their favourite subject, trying to understand each other's opinion with respect and interest. Obviously, a formal one, Severus always maintains his distance from you, as if he was always your Professor and couldn't afford to be more. Your hopes were not high on a potential romance with Severus, he was older, your former teacher, mysterious… In the end you know nothing about the man and his job was keeping him busy all year long. However, a friend would be a good start… A rather affordable hope.

In the end, when Severus opted not to act cold, it was as if there hadn't been a rupture in your relationship. The chemistry had returned back in a flash. It made you bitterly regret those three lost years... Besides, you still had no idea of the exact nature of his past harsh attitude. Maybe even tonight was just an exception and the question will never be answered.

However, if Severus ever decided, as he had suggested with his impressions, to exchange letters, perhaps with time you would find the courage to ask him. Now, it would be a bad idea and would ruin the calm atmosphere. 

"Maybe it's time to get back to the party..." Severus offered, his voice not exactly enthusiastic about joining the festivities again as well, "The others will wonder when they notice our absence."

“Right, It would be unfortunate if they started to wonder about our connection..." You laughed lightly, mocking his constant worry about being paired with you. Severus huffed, outraged. 

He stood up, and in the half-light you saw him offering his arm to you, like a gentleman. You took it without hesitation, linking yours to his.

"It's been pleasing tonight…” You spoke quietly, as Severus escorted you back into the manor.

He inhaled shakily before answering, "Yes, I agree. And hearing from you, - personally - is always preferable. I hope this will last in your future letters." 

You smiled at his words, "Obviously, Severus." There was a deep fondness evident in your voice. This time you couldn't help it, saying his first name felt right, and he didn't correct you either. 

-

The October leaves had just fallen, the soft light with its morning rays of sunshine was reaching into your office. The scenery was quiet, peaceful even. And even though you had no reason to be in your office this early, you were waiting for a special occurrence. 

Sweet Juice' had been on the market for almost a month, at various shops in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, and sales were more than encouraging. In fact, it was a real success. Some minor stock-outs caused even a panic among the sellers when they couldn't satisfy their demanding customers. Everyone was talking about the benefits of your Potion, and how it changed their life.

The money you received was considerable, allowing you to take a break. After two years of hard work, you deserved it. And a new solution cannot be invented that easily anyway. So your days were pretty uneventful, sometimes you were occupied with checking in with the producer, the one you had trusted enough to share the secrets of your mixture, and the sales. Otherwise, most of your days were spent taking care of yourself, enjoying life and, above all, waiting for Severus' letters. 

Currently in your hands, the last letter you received, already dated from the previous week. The other letters, which numbered five, were neatly folded and kept in the first drawer of your desk. Severus' handwriting was as elegant and delicate as ever, and you took great comfort in receiving them. The content was kept formal, but somewhat ‘casual’ or ‘friendly’. Which was a good development. 

The letters were quite brief and mostly structured the same way. Severus would write about his thoughts on Potions, then about his days at Hogwarts, and finally he would reply directly to the contents of the letter he had just received, making his comments on your daily life. 

In each of his answers, you could tell that he was making the effort to maintain the relationship despite the distance. When the first correspondence started, you were quite surprised to see his owl on your windowsill within less than a week. You were pleasantly surprised, expecting to receive a response within a relatively long delay. To be honest, you weren't expecting this much from him, because you know how occupied he is.

Your eyes lingered on the contents of the one you held in your hands. 

Dear Y/n, 

Thank you for the new batch of Potions you have sent me.

I would like to use it sparingly, addiction would be regrettable. So I take precautions, even though the peaceful effect it brings me is always efficient. Being able to sleep properly is, I must confess, a luxury I had not enjoyed until recently. And it's all thanks to you. 

I would say my days at Hogwarts are bearable. Work is draining, as always. 

I hadn’t found a moment to read the book you recommended. I will try to make up for it before my next answer. 

However, I am glad to hear that you are taking the time to have a break. Don't worry if the days can be boring, and you miss work, you need it. Do not become like me, please.

Yours faithfully, 

Severus Snape,

You had lost count, you must have read the contents of the letter ten times already. In fact, every letter you received from Severus was read more than once. It was a forbidden pleasure, but seeing his words specifically directed at you, gives you butterflies in your insides. 

But, you put your mind at rest with the fact that they were just letters and nothing more. It was less severe than when you were seeing him daily, in your student days. It was impossible for Severus to even guess the depth of your feelings towards him, when the only contact the two of you had was a piece of paper and a few words. You weren't likely to offend him or make him feel uneasy with your feelings towards him. So you were living your affection for this man to the fullest in the privacy of your own home. 

Leaning back in your desk chair, while your mind wandered over Hogwarts’ dungeon bat, you heard a tiny clatter against your window. Looking up, a sweet smile came to your lips. Your hands folded the current letter you were reading, folding it carefully and storing it away before standing up to retrieve the new one you had been expecting. 

Severus' owl was just like him, black plumage, piercing eyes. The only thing they did not have in common was their sweetness. When you opened your window, you were immediately greeted by a warm hooting.

“Hey, I hope the journey wasn't too long.” Your voice was almost too mellow for just an owl, and your hand gently stroked the top of its head as you greeted back. With a smile, you carefully untied the letter from its grasp. Once done, you put the envelope on your desk and collected grains to feed the owl. The owl pecked into the palm of your hand, now used to this small ritual. A hoot of gratitude indicated that the mission was accomplished. 

"Return safely to Hogwarts." With a last small pat, you gazed at the black owl as it flew off into the distance, back to its owner. 

Returning to your desk, you opened the envelope carefully and unfolded it. You were surprised to see that the content was longer than usual, twice as long. You didn't remember that your previous answer was that interesting to deserve such a detailed reply... Thus, you hurried to read it. 

Dear Y/n, 

I fear I haven't kept my promise.

I think I underestimated the side effects of your Potion, and this past week I've ‘suffered’ the consequences. A few drops was the dose I set myself to respect every night before going to bed, following your advice and the instructions for its use. Alas, after a particularly difficult day, I wanted to experiment with a higher dosage. I don't need to tell you in detail what it did to me, I think you've already guessed…

But I must, at least, keep our initial agreement, so if you don't object I will give you a report on this new experience. For the sake of the profession. 

The usual few drops prevented me from being able to experience in its fullest, the unique taste of the potion's effects. And I must say congratulations, never in my life have I tasted anything so sweet. The description you gave me a few months ago has stayed in my mind since, and I must say that you were right, nothing can describe how it feels. Heaven? Maybe. On that night, I reached heaven.

I was starving, I was out of control (or so I thought). I was almost unable to bear it, and then, it was time to awaken the sleeping madness in me... 

The hardest part is, I can't blame the Potion. It's almost cruel, but as you said, unlike with Amortentia, I had full power over my body, I wasn't intoxicated or bewitched. I succumbed to my impulses on my own. And… It feels good. 

This followed, of my own accord, a kind of addiction. The nights prior to this uneventful ‘accident’ I made a habit of taking these larger doses, for my own pleasure… Thus, I would conclude the entire experience to be more than enjoyable. 

In the future, I will try to find a balance to avoid abusing what is more than good. For the time being, I'm still enjoying myself. 

However, even if your potion is a miracle, it does not take away all the work I need to complete. 

And I must say, a thought came to my mind. In fact, Dumbledore was the one who suggested it to me years ago. And even if I was reluctant to the idea at first... The prospect feels less unpleasant if you are the one taking on this duty. 

Not wishing to interfere with your precious break, would you like to be my occasional assistant? 

You have the right to refuse, I wouldn't blame you. 

If the answer is positive, the first period I would wish to ask for your help would be mid-November, before the first exams. And that's for a few weeks, maybe for two, more or less. 

Naturally, you'll be welcomed at Hogwarts with all the necessities, a private chamber and a paycheck. But I'll give you the details in due time.

In any case, I will respect your decision and will look forward to receiving your answer, as I always do. 

Yours faithfully, 

Severus Snape,

PS: I trust you to keep this information confidential. 

Your eyes frantically scan the contents of the letter, there is a lot to take in. Your cheeks were flushed, your heart was pounding, the first major piece of information was that Severus was using your potion for his own sexual needs. And while you detected some reserve in his wording, he had admitted it without shame in that letter. You would never have thought Severus capable of speaking in such a way (at least, towards you), even if his words were formal, they were nonetheless heavy with meaning and bold.

You couldn't help it, your mind perfectly pictured Severus. At night, alone, under the pleasurable effect of the Potion. In your fantasy, his face was focused, his eyebrows a bit furrowed, some sweat rolling down his forehead because of the heat. A few strands of his hair would fall into his eyes, but his attention was so focused on the intense pleasure he was experiencing that he couldn't care less. Was he the type to moan? Or to remain silent? Or… Maybe the cravings were so powerful that he would bite his lip to keep quiet. 

At first, his hands would temptingly wander down his body, slowly, carefully, intoxicated by the rising pleasure. Touching himself was a pleasant torture, and as he said himself in the letter, he was unable to stop. Knowing how the potion would affect his senses, his skin must feel sensitive, leaving burning trails with every brush of his fingers over every inch of his skin, over all erogenous parts of his body, making him lose his mind. 

The way Severus’ hands would desperately clutched his already erected manhood, dripping precum with impatience, hoping to reach an orgasm, maybe even one or several. Seeking frantically for friction to satiate his craving, his hips bucked, his hand tightening to increase the contact pressure. The sight must be sumptuous. 

You wondered, for a moment, about the thoughts Severus might have to stimulate his mind. Was the Potion working enough to turn him on? Or was he seeking greater satisfaction with some dirty images? This left you with a real question. And you realised that even after all this time, you knew many things about him, but not at all in such an intimate setting. Which made sense, since most of the time you were his student... The first glimpse you had of this point was the letter.   

And, you're the only one who knows his nightly routine. He trusted you, beyond the fact that you were the creator of the Potion who helped him satisfy his lusts. The mere idea to be in the confidence of this secret, made your knickers wet. 

And even though it was already a lot to process, this was not the only exciting news. Severus asked you, himself, to be his assistant. He even suggested it, because the idea of working with you sounded appealing. You. Of all people, he thought about you. 

You didn't question it, it was decided the moment the information reached your brain. You were going to accept. And how could you turn down the offer when the mysterious and reserved Severus Snape admitted on his own, that he was eagerly expecting your letters…

After years of longing to feel that special feeling again, in one letter Severus had given you a lot. 

-

Returning to Hogwarts was a hope you never thought imaginable. However, a week ago you arrived with a suitcase packed, ready to work. The stone corridors, the moving stairs and even the staff had remained the same. The only change was that instead of sitting at your house table for dinner, you were now placed between Flitwick and Snape. And of course, that most of your time was spent in the dark, damp dungeons of the School brewing Potions, or grading papers. 

Unlike what many might think, working alongside Severus was much more manageable than they might have thought. In any case, with you, he trusted your work enough not to question it. In fact, when you arrived, you were quite worried when you saw the dark circles under his eyes, which were more prominent than you used to remember. And when you became his assistant, you understood why. Severus was a perfectionist, and his teaching methods were all tailored to ensure the success of his students. So your tasks were simple, like preparing the exams, the basics for the Potions that were going to be taught, correcting papers, arranging the ingredients... And while you were just assisting him, within a few days he had managed to find more rest. Something that made you feel better.

Apart from that, the working conditions were quiet and calm. Severus was conversing with you during the simplest of tasks, he didn't seem as tight as usual (in private, at least), what you guessed were the effects of your Potion. At times, it was simply work performed in a comfortable silence. But between you, there was no longer any sign of discomfort or coldness. It was as if it had never happened, actually. 

Well, until today. 

"I wonder..." Severus began his sentence thoughtfully, his eyes focused on the cauldron in front of him, his hands busy chopping up ingredients, "How I used to find time to work and talk to you, back then."

You had a similar task, but unlike him you looked up in surprise. Severus rarely mentioned the past between you, or even the letters you had exchanged the past month. "I don't know either... That's why you stopped in my seventh grade, right?"

You didn't particularly want to mention the subject that had become nearly forbidden with time, namely your cold war. But you felt that under the current circumstances, you were old and mature enough to take it on yourself. Even though you might never get any solid answers about his past behaviour. 

“Y/n, we both know that’s not the truth.” 

Your eyes were still fixed on him, and you didn't know if Severus was too focused on his Potion to realise the implication of his words, or if he really wanted to discuss the issue once and for all. But you weren't going to miss your chance, trying to summon all your courage. "Oh- Really? Those are the excuses you gave me, would you like to tell me the truth then?" You answered casually, trying to play it cool despite your racing heart. Years of seeking the answer, it was as if what haunted you most was finally going to be removed. 

However, the answer did not come as easily as the conversation had started, Severus stopped in his tracks and raised his head to you. His expression was hesitant, or perplexed, you didn't really know. "It was best for us to stop there, that's the real reason." He replies vaguely, his eyes fixed on your face where you stand across the Potion station. 

You frowned, you were an adult now, you could handle and accept the truth. Severus, on the other hand, was being vague, as if putting a finger on what had happened was forbidden. "Are you implying that in our professional discussions, we were going down the wrong path?" You didn't want to tempt him, but getting the truth out of Severus' mouth was more complicated than you expected. 

"Our discussions were nothing professional." He sounded a bit irritated with himself, indeed, the subject was sensitive on both sides. He put a lid on his Potion and dried his hands with a cloth, "We're done for the day, you can leave me." He waved you off, putting an end to the conversation. 

But you stayed in your place, it was as if your feet were frozen to the ground, you couldn't leave. "You are the one who started the conversation. Don't be angry with me." Your voice was quite composed, you weren't afraid to face him. And just like at the event, he seemed stunned by your tone of voice. 

You put the tools down and placed a lid on the Potion in the same way he had just done. "You cannot cut off the discussion and asked me to leave, Severus. You don't know how I've suffered my entire last year because of this, because of you. You can at least look me in the eye and give me a proper answer.” You sighed, as he tried to keep his eyes from looking at you. Perhaps because of guilt. 

"Severus, we can sort this out, and go back to the way things were. But I need an answer, to move on. To be free of this guilt. Did I do something wrong? Was I bothering you so much? Tell me…" You hated how your voice was almost begging. But with every word you said, you could feel it, it was like he was re-building that distance between you. You didn't want to lose him, not that quickly. 

"Severus... Please." You finally decided to move, taking a step towards him, the atmosphere in the classroom had totally changed. But even if the tension was heavy, you weren't going to abandon him, not this time. He did not move as you approached him, however, his face was tense. You hadn't seen him this cold in a while. 

"I can't answer you. Things wouldn't be the same after that.” His voice was harsh, but not offensive. He sounded frustrated with himself, “But… If you want an answer, I must admit I'm not sufficiently secure to reveal my past intentions." 

His words were odd, leaving you confused. The enigma that was Severus Snape was impossible to understand no matter how much time you were spending by his side. Can he give me an answer or not?

Several times your mouth opened in an attempt to answer, but nothing came to your mind. The problem seemed to be stuck. It left you upset. "I... I want an answer." Your words were both hesitant and confident, the statement was, frankly, a bit silly. 

This seemed to amuse Severus, who laughed silently in mockery, warming the atmosphere. “Why are you so…” He paused for a moment as if hesitating, then at last he gave in, "Endearing?” 

His words slammed into your heart, leaving you baffled. But you didn't have time to answer, Severus resumed speaking just as soon, "But, if I can manage to calm myself, maybe I'll be able to talk to you. Does that please you, Y/n?"

You hesitated, understanding what Severus was implying behind those words, 'relaxing' meant taking a few drops of Sweet Juice. And as much as you wanted to keep a respectful image of Severus, the last words written  in his letter about its use stayed in the back of your mind. But, how can I refuse?

"Fine.” You agreed, nodding slowly.

Severus seemed somewhat reassured by your agreement, the walls he was starting to build around himself to push you away, were falling down again. It was his turn to approach you, offering his arm. A habit he'd adopted with every walk you shared at Hogwarts. You took his arm, the gesture had become natural, Severus added, "Follow me."

With that, you walked after him. Severus led you, in the utmost silence. Your heart was pounding, you didn't know exactly what to expect. The path he was taking, staying in the dungeons of the school, made you realise that he was inviting you into his personal quarters, which did not help your state of mind. Every step you made, was a step towards the possible truth. 

Your recent exchange had been unclear, Severus was just as confused by his attitude as you were, you could tell with the look on his face. Torture between two separate decisions: to hate you back or accept what was happening between you two. 

Still in silence, Severus finally arrived, unlocked the door to his quarters and let you in first. It was the first time you had entered, and the surroundings seemed oddly familiar. Everything reflected Severus, with its dark tones and simple, yet elegant furnishings. Your eyes rest on the many books, all meticulously arranged, and then, a little farther away, on the bed. It was impossible to miss the three vials filled with the purple liquid that you had conceived yourself, one of them was nearly empty. The sight of Sweet Juice beside his bed only made your heart flutter, as if it was confirmation that everything he had described to you was, indeed, true.  

"Well, sit on the sofa. I'm coming up with what's needed." Severus breaks the silence as he removes his cloak, stopping your dirty thoughts dead in their tracks.

"Yes, of course." You nodded, quite flustered, and you did what you were asked as you sat down on the couch, next to the fireplace and the bookcases. Your eyes followed Severus' actions as he made his way to his bed, lighting the fireplace with his wand as he passed. 

He came back with a new bottle of Sweet Juice in his hands, and sat without discomfort at your side. "Do you use it daily as well?" He asked you, an undeniable curiosity in his voice. 

"Um... No, I just tested it on myself a while ago before I submitted the notice. I have no use for it." You looked at him blankly, you didn't know what Severus was trying to find out with his question, "So, it was only for professional purposes." You added rather quickly, in case he wondered if you too were finding sexual satisfaction through its use. 

"Well, this will be the occasion to taste it again then." His hands opened the bottle carefully, and with some skill showing how familiar he was with its use. 

You looked at him, confused by his words, "I don't intend to take it, you said you were the one who needed it to speak honestly." 

"I think it's wiser for you to take it, to learn the truth. I don't want you to get mad at me." He replied with his calm voice, "Don't you trust me?" He raised an eyebrow with his usual expertise in the motion. 

Of course you trusted him, the question didn't have to be asked. And right now, with all the tension in your body from the pressure of the whole situation, you had to agree. He was right, it was wiser if the both of you were in the same state to discuss. "Fine, but only a few drops..."

Severus nodded, "A few drops will be more than enough."

You reached for the vial, but Severus placed his hand on your chin before you could get your hands on it, and directed your face in his direction. “Open your mouth, please Y/n.” 

His eyes were fixed on you, you felt like melting under his gaze, so intense was it. You couldn't ignore the intimate intensity of the situation, your cheeks were starting to burn. The scenario was far more pleasant than anything you could have imagined in your dirtiest dreams. 

Without even adding anything, you parted your lips for him. Severus seemed satisfied with your willingness, and put the eyedropper to let a few drops fall from it. A promise he kept. And even though it was only a few drops, the taste burned in your throat, taking effect as soon as it was swallowed. It was addictive, sweet… Divine. A tickling sensation settled in your body, you felt perfectly fine, as if your body had never felt any tension. 

Severus watched your every reaction, his hand still on your chin, you felt like your skin was burning under his fingers, "Well. You seem to be reacting well."

He withdrew his hand and this gesture left you with a feeling of need. Your eyes never left him for a second as you watched him perform the same operation with himself. His previously tense face, softened in an instant. To have Severus so effortlessly relaxed was quite an exclusive sight. He trusted you enough to be so vulnerable without shame, in front of you. It made you smile.

"Y/n, I've been intending to talk to you about this for a while, it weighs on me just as much. I'm sorry for the way I acted," Severus began quietly. 

Hearing him apologise was strange, he was such a proud man. It made you happy, because while he was under the effect of the potion, he was still aware of what he was doing or saying. He was not controlled by the Potion, in front of you there was a sincere and apologetic Severus. One of the many facets you were starting to find out about this very mysterious man. 

"I apologise as well, I wasn't always straightforward." You matched his gentle tone, 

Severus shook his head, "You were not the problem, I handled the situation very poorly. It's all my fault, I hurt you." He put his hand over his face, ashamed, "When, in fact, that's all I wanted to avoid... It haunted me, until I saw you again a few months ago. I wanted redemption, to make sure you were fine without me... But, I’m selfish as I am taking a role in your life again,” He sighed hopelessly, “There's still this guilt in me.”

Hearing Severus speak with such regret, made your heart grow fonder for the man, you couldn't fault him. He had suffered the same pain from his choices, he acted in order not to lose his teaching position, in order to not deprive you of a possible 'happy' life. And even if the Potion worked miracles, guilt and pain couldn't be erased. You wanted to reassure him, to remove this pain from him, to leave it in the past. "Severus, I only wish to understand what I did wrong..." You whispered, your eyes focused on the buttons that fastened his cutaway coat.

The more minutes passed, the more the Potion worked through your body. The sensation was odd, like a kind of ache, but it was unmistakably delightful. This only served to reinforce your self-consciousness about the situation, your body tickled everywhere, straining, trembling, longing to be close to him. 

"You have done nothing wrong... As the days went by, my regard for you changed. Your radiant smile, the way your eyes brighten at my every word, the way your perfume intoxicates me when it stays in the classroom, your delicate hands working with agility... All of this, I should never have noticed, and yet, I couldn't help but feel captivated. Charmed because of what you were, and still are, in fact." 

He slowly pulled his hand away from his face. But, you didn't want to leave him in his demise, so you laid your hand on his as he lowered it, encouraging him to continue. "I wasn't blind, I knew the feeling you held for me. I believed it was for the benefit of the both of us. But after rejecting you, I was terribly missing you. Inside me, it built up a terrible guilt…” He paused for a moment before concluding, “And without realising it, I was feeling the same way about you."

Severus gently takes your hand in his, as if you were a delicate flower, or would disappear at any moment. His gaze is now focussed on both your joined hands, "Since, I haven't stopped thinking about you, night and day. Seeing you again... Was a breath of hope, I thought impossible. And even though you sounded different, like you were angry with me, I couldn't help but appreciate you. I soon realised that despite all my efforts, pushing you away a second time was beyond me... Beyond my strength."

He intertwined his fingers with yours, "You can hate me, yell at me. I hurt you and yet, selfishly you're here with me, instead of enjoying what life has to give you. I’m older, grim, and stern. I don't deserve you."

As he confessed, what you were focused on, was the heavy pounding of your heart ringing in your ears. The intensity of his emotions was heartbreaking, as you listened to him. 

Your body's reaction to his was overwhelming, everything seemed like a raging fire that neither of you wanted to quench. The sensation of his own skin against yours only made it burn harder, leaving you with an insatiable urge of need and want. Your body knew what it wanted, the heat started to build up in the lower part of your stomach.

"I- Severus… I'm sorry that I was angry with you, when you were trying to do the right thing. I had no idea how you might be feeling on your own. But today, everything has changed, I’m not your student anymore.” You spoke with all the determination you could muster to prove him wrong, “And I don't care what life has to offer, if you are older. I know what I want. And it’s you.” 

“It's only been a few weeks since I've been back with you, and I've never felt so happy. I feel alive.” Your cheeks flushed hot at your blunt words, “And to be honest, the club, the award, Sweet Juice, I did it all, to get your attention. I wanted to be special to you again."

"Come," Severus uttered in a deep, rumbling voice. His hand, the one that was already holding you, pulled you towards him, and his other hand guided your hips as he gently settled you on his lap, straddling him. The way your body easily accepted his request, was a reflection of how much you wanted to be with him, to be close to him. 

"I wanted to move on, to forget you, but it was impossible. But nowadays, as I am closer to you..." Your eyes fell on his face, Severus seemed to be listening to you with such intensity, that coupled with this sudden intimacy caused you to speak in a shaky breath, "I burn and my body is feeling new things, and the intensity is only growing, nearly out of control. I can't think anymore, you're always on my mind…- I just want to be close to you, like I've always hoped." Your voice died down near the end, admitting your deepest thoughts. You were nervous, the aching sensation started to get on your nerves, overflowing with desire for the man in front of you.

His hands gripped your clothes, as if to remind you that he was indeed there, by your side. You were taken aback by the violent wave of emotions that flashed through his eyes. Severus had said nothing after your own confession, but there was no need for him to speak in order for you to understand. His eyes were speaking for him. Need, lust, desperation, want, longing- And most strikingly, love. His hands clasped your face, leaving you no choice but to lock your eyes with his. You couldn't escape the impact of his emotions, of the intense waves crashing over you nearly suffocating you. And the truth is, you had no desire to avoid him. 

It was as if time had stopped, his beautiful face, his lovely hands, the wildness in his eyes, and the way he made you feel was beyond description. 

"I love you," He exhaled as his thumb stroked your cheek. It felt like a weight was being lifted from his chest, 

Your fingers found his shoulders, pressing into the soft fabric of his coat, “I love you as well,” You answered, the same weight disappearing from your heart. 

The affirmation of your feelings towards him seemed to ignite something new in Severus. His thumb went down to your lips, running it over them, "You know, I thought about you as my assistant not only because you're the smartest, most diligent and serious person I know to handle the task perfectly," He spoke in a low grumble that made your whole body quiver, "But also because every night as I took a stronger dose of that delicious elixir you conceived, I always find myself thinking about you. I found satisfaction only when I thought of you.” 

He sighs, "I must admit that if you're here, it's also because I couldn't bear to keep all this to myself, I had to confess. I wanted to see you again, terribly."

“I’m here Severus, I’m here for you and only you.” You replied hurriedly in order to reassure him.

He took a deep breath, your words seemed to have reached his heart, "Maybe it's a bit premature, but I should ask you."

It sent a ripple of delight through your entire body, increasing the desperation you had to be against him, “What do you want to ask me, Severus?”

Your question, perhaps somewhat naive given the situation, brought a smile to his lips, “Would you like to make love with me?” The question was phrased extremely graciously, contrasting dramatically with the ferocity of his eyes. 

Your body shivered under his powerful stare. Your reply was obvious, and yet in the warmth of his body, in the puddle of intensity that Severus was bathing you in, you were at a loss for words. He looked at you like a hunter ready to chase down his prey, your consent was all he needed for him to pounce on you. It should have worried you, but behind his raging stare were years of self-restraint and pain. You felt more than special, being loved by such a cold and distant man made you feel like you were the only one in this wide world, the one and only for him. 

You couldn't make him wait any longer, it was torture for him as much as it was for you. So you nodded, silently at first, then you found the courage to finally voice your need, "Yes, Severus, I do."

He smiled again, it was a delightful sight to see Severus smiling, and you took a moment to observe him as if to commit the image to memory. It was so infrequent, that you were pleased to know that you were the only one to be blessed by it. He was perfect, you could do nothing but kiss him. Passionately, freely, desperately. There was nothing anymore to stop you from doing it. You tasted him, setting all your senses on fire. You licked the inside of his mouth, as his tongue linked with yours in an intoxicating dance that only the both of you seemed to know. The scent and taste of him captured all your senses, and you couldn't stop humming with delight as it resonated through your chest from the pleasure of kissing him. 

In that first kiss, you feel it all. 

Both of his hands clasped your face tightly to keep you close to him as your hands trailed through his long hair, down to his neck. The warmth that radiated from him made your flesh flush, your heart pounding so hard in your chest that even Severus should be able to feel it. He tasted like heaven. 

He skillfully guides you, allowing you to get lost in his adoration. One hand gently grasped your throat, while his other hand travelled from your cheek over your neck, down to your waist where his arm snaked around to press your body against his in a secure embrace. 

Severus didn't break the kiss, as he stood up, carrying you in his arms. Your eyes were closed, allowing you to get completely absorbed in the feverish kiss, but you knew he was heading for his bed. The next moment, your body found its place against the soft fabric of his sheets, enveloping you once again in his wonderful manly scent. Wrecking you, in the most pleasing ways possible. 

You moaned into his mouth as your fingers tugged his hair a bit tighter, Severus growled at your action, searing your whole being from you body to your soul. You were desperate for more, to see him, to touch him, to feel him. Your clothes were simply a suffocating barrier that separated you from Severus. Your irritation didn't seem to escape Severus as he broke off the feverish kiss you two were sharing. 

You finally opened your eyes, to be greeted by a dishevelled and flushed Severus. You were both out of breath, panting. However, he was quick to lay another kiss on the exposed skin of your throat. Sweetly, lovingly, small kisses from the tip of his lips teasing you, all dripping with desire.

"Love, you're perfect," He hummed against your neck as he gently nuzzled his nose against it to inhale your fragrance. You were like in heaven, your blood was running through your veins, your stomach transformed into butterflies out of worship for him. 

His hands ran along your body, before undoing the button on your skirt. Your thighs were released quickly from the constraint that your clothes provided you as he dropped the first piece of fabric on the floor. Your hands hesitantly passed over his upper body, your fingers delicately unfasten the buttons of his coat. Once done, your hands grabbed the lapels of his coat to let it fall over his shoulders, quickly meeting your skirt on the floor. 

Severus certainly was consumed by an insatiable urge, never getting enough of you. His lips never leave you, trailing against your jaw, nibbling your earlobe. His warm breath left your sensitive skin tingling with delight. Your hands were slightly trembling as you began to reach for his shirt, while his hands reached for the rest of your clothes with utmost care. 

The clothes that had been a painful barrier, began to strip from your bodies, slowly, teasingly. Falling one by one on the floor. Severus leaned on his arm as he took a few steps back, your breath caught with worry and missing his warmth. His eyes roamed over your body, in an intimidating powerful manner. You had never felt so vulnerable and exposed, only covered by your underwear, his intense gaze left a heavy feeling on everything you could offer him. 

However, you didn't have time to think for long when his lips captured yours. “Perfect,” He whispered as his eyes met yours. With burning cheeks, you averted your eyes. You could not hold his gaze, so much the intensity of his emotions caught your heart. His pupils were dilated, too wild, too fiery. 

Your reaction left Severus laughing in a deep breath, "You really are more lovely than anything I could have imagined. My mind didn’t do you justice, love.” The gentle title he gave you made your heart beat faster, and as your hands were pressed against his chest you sensed the intense pounding of his as well. Both your hearts were beating in perfect tune. 

Your hands began to undo the upper part of his shirt, releasing his neck from his stiff attire. You were still shaking, but proceeded nonetheless. There was only a layer left before you could see him as vulnerable. Severus waited, letting you take all the time you needed to finish. And the next thing you knew, you were pulling his shirt off his shoulders in the same way you'd done before. 

You marvelled at the sight in front of you, your breath caught in your throat at the sheer beauty of Severus, his broad shoulders, his pale pearly skin, his strong arms were now at your total disposal. You gave yourself a moment to appreciate the one you've craved for, over the years.

"Perfect," You whispered with the same adoration he had for you, your fingers spread over his bare skin, temptingly. You were amazed at the softness of his body despite his strength, he, who held himself so rigidly in his daily life. 

"Not as much as you, love," Severus left a warm kiss on your cleavage and his hands found the clasp of your bra as your hands found down his trousers. He removed the rest of his clothes at the same time as you.

Your skin was flushed, your breaths quick and uneven with anticipation. It's a good thing you had taken a few drops of Sweet Juice, otherwise you would have been a nervous wreck. This allowed you to handle the whole experience with confidence, coupled with your trust in Severus, it was pure bliss. And this must have been the case for Severus, because behind his expert strokes, he seemed a bit unsure with himself. 

Your skin burned under his every touch, letting the fire spread over your skin down to your trembling, hot, insides. You were wet, swollen and soft. Severus sat on his knees, between your legs. The action left your body screaming with desperation, arching with anticipation for more, for him. Until now, you had not dared to lower your eyes to the level of his girth, but now it was time to get acquainted with what was about to enter you. Your breath was taken away at the sight of his long, veiny and erect manhood. That’s going inside of me?

"Love, I'll be gentle with you," Severus sensed your apprehension immediately, his hands gently resting on your knees to spread your legs leaving your body on high alert. He leaned forward, and placed a first kiss on your jaw, then another one on your breast, before his mouth wrapped around your already hard nipples to sweetly suck on it. 

You didn't know if you'd taken a sufficiently large dose of the Potion for it to play on your sexual sensibilities, but you gasped. The feeling of his soft lips over your most forbidden body parts was exhilarating, your insides tensed. Your breasts were sensitive, responsive to every lick he gave. You were blown away by the way your body fit to him, catching his slightest touch. And as if he wasn't satisfied enough with himself, he moved his hand up from your hip, running teasingly along your skin to find your nipple, toying with it, pinching it. You couldn't help but moan, the sensation strains you again, leaving you longing for more. Your mind failed to follow, a wave of pleasure overtaking your whole body. Everything felt heightened, the sound of Severus' sharp breath, his tongue, his touch, his scent. Even the cotton of his sheets was seemingly intense. 

Severus let out a long, deep growl from the back of his throat, and it made your whole body shudder. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, ready to welcome him. He understood the sign, but continued to whisper his words of adoration, of love for you. How he had dreamed of this for years, that he didn't want to be apart from you anymore. His words that met the hollow of your ear, made you feel in a whirlwind of emotions, cherished and safe. You held on to him, your arms reaching around his shoulders. 

He wanted to slowly devour you, until your rational thoughts were consumed by pleasure.  

“Sev,” You breathed out a long, deep moan as his finger slid inside you. You were soaking wet at this point, drenched for him. His finger stroked your insides, his thumb brushed against your sensitive bundle of nerves while his lips lingered on your throat, placing numerous small kisses. 

“You are perfect,” He hummed out, right by your ear, “Perfect for me,” His nose dragged along your skin, in the hope of finding a new spot to kiss. He pressed another finger into you. Your legs tightened while your insides softened further. The stretching of his fingers was astounding. “You are the only one for me, I love you,” His words shattered everything, all the common sense you had in you. You wanted him to ruin you with his love. In a manner as violent as the emotions you had for each other, giving him everything, everything you ever had. 

Removing his fingers, your eyes fell on his hand as it darted back and forth between his legs. You gasped as his delicate hand folded around the girth of his manhood. "Love, I'm here. It's going to be fine. Tell me if you don't feel well, I'll stop," he hummed softly as he laid back against you, pressing his body over yours. You nodded, and his lips found yours anew. 

You felt his body lowering, and the next instant, he was sinking inside you. You hissed from the pleasure that suddenly caught hold of you. There was no discomfort, no pain, your body adapted, moulded itself to him. Your body was being taken by Severus, and everything at that moment, finally being one with him, felt right. 

“Look at me,” He ordered you gently, holding himself up with one arm, ready to move. When your eyes met his, you were immersed in the depth of his love. You felt calm, in heaven, as you were shaped to accommodate him. He was the only one in this world, especially when he was looking at you with such worship. 

“Good,” He smiled in satisfaction when you complied. Your eyes were hypnotised by all the love he bore you. He began to draw out, slowly. And as with your skin, your insides were just as sensitive causing electricity to run through your body, sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze intensified as he began to move a bit faster, his movements always precise and well controlled, making it more intense. 

Catching his breath, Severus kept praising you, “You, are, magnifi-cent,” He growled in a low tone, between thrust as you moaned out his name in a barely comprehensible manner. You find satisfaction in being filled and stroked, to be loved in such a carnal manner, it was intense, overwhelmingly intense. He was everywhere, he was everything to you. 

“Sev-, Severus, I love you!” Your voice was slurred, your mind was unable to form a coherent thought, and yet you felt the urgent need to confess your love all over again. At your words, he quickened his pace and buried himself inside you, over and over.

You were consumed by him, by his love, by your love for him. You were his, and he was yours. Entirely, irrevocably, ineluctably. There was no other way. Severus was breaking everything you owned, and it felt right. With every push, with every pull, with his loving hands, with his loving words, with his hungry breath, he was breaking you.

“Please,” You pleaded for him, a moan escaping through your sore lips. His movements became powerful, irregular, hasty. As if to satisfy you as much as possible, even if he was exceeding all your wishes, pushing your mind to the edge of depravity with each of his thrusts. 

“Love,” He growled in a feverish manner, as if he had been entrusted with the most valuable mission possible, to please you. He shoved in so deeply that your eyes rolled back and watered from the sensation of being nothing but completely filled. You back arched in pleasure, welcoming the emotion in its fullest. 

“Awh-” You gasped as he started to pace harder, faster. Your legs were quivering from the pleasure, your lungs burned from your moans. He held onto you tighter, in order to be able to dig into you with more vigour. Over and over. It was relentless. His need for you became beyond desperate and engulfed him into the same depravity. 

“I love-, you,” He moaned darkly under his gruff breath, “I can’t-” He growled this time, in a low rumbling. His movements became irregular, erratic. 

You kissed his neck, inhaling his sweaty scent and the taste of his skin stirred in your mouth. “Me too-” You whispered, in a rather dark tone, meeting his love and distress at the same time. 

“Y/n-!” He growled, and after a split second, you felt him growing within you, as his whole body tightened, hardened. His cock shifted faster inside you, pounding against your inner walls. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and moans his release before his movements come to a slow halt. 

Ripples of heat mingled with the throbbing of muscles and the warmth of the skin inside you. You held him close and marvelled at the sensation of your orgasm, of being filled and being enough for him to reach such a fierce release. To be enough for him to love you, to be enough for him to be so intimate with you. 

You caught your breath, you were in a state of pure bliss. The last waves of pleasure take over your body, making the pleasure last longer. Severus withdrew from you, leaving you with a longing that he satisfied by taking you in his arms enjoying your post-orgasm state.

He placed a kiss on your sweaty forehead as he affectionately snuggled you pressing your body against his. After the intense encounter you'd just experienced he still longed to feel your burning skin against his. “I love you,” He said it again, as if he needed to prove it to you, but you knew by now that his affection towards you was wrenching. 

"I love you more," you lay your head against his chest, letting the sound of his heart lull you to sleep as it only started to calm. His soft laughter vibrated through his rib cage, 

"I doubt it, love, but this is not the time to talk about it. Tomorrow is another day, a day when I can finally enjoy you without any rules or barriers," Severus sounded enthusiastic, he pulled the blanket over both of your naked bodies and took his wand to stop all sources of fire from making any light. 

His uncharacteristic lively tone brings a peaceful smile to your lips, you are now the one that makes Severus eager to wake up in the morning, to carry on with his life. He was your source of happiness, and you were his. 

After years of trying to understand everything between the two of you, you were now in his arms. 

Peaceful. 

Loved.