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perlelune · 8 months

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NDA | Coriolanus Snow

When you get hired as a nanny for President Snow and his wife's firstborn, you’re beyond thrilled and grateful. But quickly, the perfect facade melts, revealing the ugly truth of what actually goes on in the Snows' house.

Warnings: NON-CON, Capitol! Reader, Innocent Reader, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Power Imbalance

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your worried eyes track the frenzied glide of the woman’s quill over the notepad. You squint, hoping to discern some of the words she’s scrawling that way, but they are indiscernible…just like the stone-cold expression of the bespectacled woman on the other side of the desk.

She catches you trying to peek. Your heart jumps.

As her sharp green gaze zeroes in on you, you clear your throat and shift in your seat.

She puts her quill down and twines her fingers.

“So what do you think sets you apart from the other applicants?”

You chew on your lip. When you arrived to offer your candidature this morning, you naively believed you’d be early. Instead, you were forced to join the tail end of the massive waiting line stretching far outside the Snows’ estate. It didn’t hit you before that moment, how prized the position is. Each of the women and girls you saw radiated excellent breeding and impeccable manners. Many probably attended the University and could double as a tutor if the need presents itself.

This isn’t your case. Your parents left you and your brother Laertes with nothing when they suddenly passed away in a rebel bombing. You couldn’t blame them. This wasn't the plan. Who plans on dying and leaving their two children to fend for themselves?

Still, you now have a list of bills the length of your arm coupled with a massive mortgage to pay every month. And as Laertes’ sole caretaker, you must ensure you can afford to send him to University once he completes his education in the Academy.

Circumstances denied you that chance. Despite being of university’s age, you couldn’t afford the cost of tuition and had to drop out as soon as you got accepted. You want better for your little brother.

So as soon as you heard the news that President Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew were in search of a nanny for their son Martius, you jumped on the opportunity to apply. You rose before the sun, rummaged through your mother’s closet to find her best dress, and hailed a car to come here.

It’s a long shot, of course. You’re not as polished and impressive as some of the other women. You’re also noticeably younger. But the wages promised alone compelled you to take a chance despite the odds being unfavorable.

Fiddling with your hands, you meet the woman’s impassive stare head-on.

“What sets me apart?” You mull over your answer. You could paint a false, august portrait of yourself, your skills and your accomplishments. Or try to at least.

But what would be the point of pretending to be someone you’re not only to be found out later on? So you elect to tread the path of honesty.

“Nothing,” you say. “But I’m a hard worker. A very hard worker. In fact, I already have three jobs, one at a bakery, another as a clerk in an antique shop and I assist Fabricia Whatnot at her boutique sometimes.” Panic quivers inside you as the woman quickly jots something down on her notepad. You swiftly specify, “...But I’ll quit all of them if I get the position, of course.” You lick your lips as knots tie your stomach. “I can learn everything there is to learn on the spot. I love children, and…” You trail off, gaze traveling to your lap as you muse if you should reveal more. Your fists clench as you add, “I have a little brother who’s a few years older than Martius, and I’m really hoping I get this opportunity so I can give him the life he deserves.”

An unnerving quiet occupies the air. The wait is agony, your nails digging painfully into your palms. The jagged drumming of your heart bleeds inside your ears as she studies you.

Eventually, she leans back in the velvet chair, her face betraying no thought or emotion.

“You’re dismissed,” she says.

Your heart plummets to your feet. You shakily rise, dispirited as you drag your heels towards the door. You steal a glance above your shoulder. The woman’s attention has already drifted away from you as she shouts for the next applicant.

You sourly exit the office. You try to swallow your dejection as you note how many women are still waiting in line, each of them likely more qualified and experienced. It’s obvious you tanked the interview. Shoulders slumping, you take resigned steps through the elegant, palatial hallways of the Snow’s mansion. You get lost in admiring the crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. There isn’t an inch of the house that doesn’t scream excessive, unattainable wealth.

You take your time soaking it in. Chances are you’ll never step foot in such a place in your lifetime ever again.

Distracted, you don’t notice the person in front of you before it’s too late. You bump straight into a hard, inflexible body.

The sudden collision threatens your balance.

Fingers coil around your wrists as you stagger back, preventing your impending collapse onto the marbled floor.

As your attention drifts skywards, your jaw drops at who fills your vision.

“P-President Snow, my deepest apologies, s-sir,” you stammer, flames licking your cheeks.

As if you didn’t make yourself look dimwitted enough before, you now carelessly crashed into the leader of all of Panem. Just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse.

You take him in. It truly is him. Shock fills you.

Tall and dazzling in a crisp white shirt and crimson vest that hints at his lean physique beneath the clothes, his signature blond waves slicked away from his face, he looks every bit the important figure that he is.

The flickering TV screen you own at home doesn’t do him justice.

A gentle smirk unfurls on his lips.

“It’s quite alright. I’m not made of sugar,” he jests.

“No…you’re not, your highness…majesty...I mean sir.”

Your blunder expands his smile. His cerulean gaze drags over your frame.

“Are you here for the nursemaid position?”

“I am, sir.” You unleash a deep exhale, his inquiry tossing salt on the fresh wound. The interviewer clearly wasn’t impressed by your less than stellar performance. Maybe you should have tried to mimic the way the girls with whom you attended the Academy behave more. They carry themselves with such confidence, wading through the world with the certainty of their destinies being secure, bereft of hardships unlike district dwellers.

You envy how carefree they get to be. Everyday you wake up worried you’ll come up short on a bill and you and Laertes will be forced to leave your family home. No matter how diligent you are at work, there never seems to be enough money to sustain the two of you. Even with three jobs, you’re barely eking out a decent living for you and your little brother. Many times, you’ve gone to bed hungry just so Laertes would not.

You don’t even realize tears have filled your eyes to the brim until a handkerchief is daintily pressed into your cheeks.

Flabbergasted, you blink up at President Snow.

“Thank you,” you exhale, stunned by his kind gesture.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

You search his eyes. Genuine interest lights up his pellucid blue orbs.

Without much thought, you confess, “I just don’t think I did very well with my interview.”

As he scrutinizes you in silence, cocking his head sideways, embarrassment rushes through you.

Words anxiously leave your lips in a tremulous string.

“God, I’m so sorry, spilling my problems to you as if you’re not an extremely busy man, sir.”

He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright. And do not count yourself defeated, sweetheart.” Your pulse stutters when he bends over you to whisper, “You may have left a stronger impression than you think.”

He nudges the pocket square between your hands. It’s still damp with your tears. You gape at it in awe. President Snow’s initials are elegantly etched in the left corner of the fabric.

“Here. Keep it. Though I’d much prefer it if you didn’t cry.” He pauses, studying you. “Girls as lovely as you never should.”

His words send your heart into a frenzy. For a while, you’re too stunned to move. You then shake yourself back to reality, noticing you’re now staring at the empty space where he used to stand. He’s gone. You look ahead. He’s already miles away from you, wrapped in conversation with who seems to be an assistant of his.

Your thumbs press against the soft fabric of the pocket square. Cheeks ablaze, you hold it to your nose. It smells like roses, the same delicate scent that wafted from him a few minutes ago. Your back prickles. You pivot and are astonished to find the envious glares of some of the applicants still waiting in line zeroed in on you. Self-conscious, you rush to continue your exit, fleeing away from the hateful stares.

As the outside gates come into sight, you can’t suppress an elated smile. It’s not everyday someone meets President Snow and receives such a gift from him. Shoving the handkerchief in your pocket, you vow to place it somewhere safe and always cherish it.

When you return home, your brother’s already sitting in the living room, his tiny brows scrunched in concentration and his nose buried in his books. Your stomach sinks. Everything you did today was for him. You can’t help but feel you missed out on a huge opportunity, one that’d have changed the course of his life forever. You glance around at the apartment. The walls are crumbling. The wooden floors are creaking. The pipes in the kitchen have been leaking for weeks, a measly bucket you must empty every morning the only thing preventing a flood. And at night, the pitter-patter of rodents’ paws resonates from the ceiling.

Every inch of your family home is in dire need of repairs.

Unfortunately, every penny you earn goes into rent and food, meaning the house falls apart a bit more everyday. Perhaps one day, you and Laertes will awake beneath the rubble of what’s left of your childhood home. Nightmares of that sometimes keep you up at night.

“How was the Academy today?” you chime, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Worry twists your chest. There isn’t much left. You’ll need to make do with cabbage and whatever other veggies are left. Perhaps you could toss in some leftover dried meat and make a stew.

“My teacher signed me up for advanced trigonometry,” your brother announces.

You close the cabinet and beam at him.

“Oh, that sounds hard. I’m proud of you.” It doesn’t exactly surprise you. Laertes’ always been exceptionally smart. Even his teachers noticed how gifted he is from an early age. Unlike you, he breezed through middle school and now the Academy.

It’s why it’s crucial you make sure he can go to the University. A mind like his shouldn’t be wasted.

You brother shrugs, exuding nonchalance.

“It’s fine.”

You rush to him. You wrap your arm around him playfully and hug him in his chair, pulling his cheek like when he was little. You know he hates when you do that but you can’t help teasing him a bit. It’s your duty as a big sister after all.

“Don’t downplay it. My little brother’s a genius.”

He wriggles his way out of the hug, rolling his eyes.

“Stop it.”

You head back to the kitchen and fire the stove.

“I’ll make you something,” you say, smiling at your brother.

His brows knit. “Make something for yourself first.”

You nibble your bottom lip. You truly hoped he wouldn’t notice, how much smaller than his your portions are. But he’s growing; he needs it. Much more than you. Besides, how can he focus at the Academy and be the brilliant boy he is supposed to be with a growling stomach? You won’t allow it.

“Laertes…”

He shakes his head, his expression firm.

“No. You always do this. This time, we split whatever is left.”

Heaving out a resigned exhale, you nod. You whirl to resume preparing dinner.

You gather a boiling pot from the overhead cabinet and place it on the stove. With the ease of practice, you begin chopping vegetables and tossing them into the pot. You add spices and water. The mouthwatering aroma quickly fills the kitchen. Pride swells in your chest. Your cooking skills have improved so much in the last year since your parents passed. You now manage to bring flavor to the blandest of meals.

Once the stew’s ready, you pour a portion in each bowl, putting just a little more in your brother’s and praying he will not notice.

You place the steaming bowls on the table and take a seat opposite him.

“No books at the dining table,” you admonish, mimicking the exact tone your mother used with your brother. Admitting defeat, Laertes sighs and sets his homework aside. The tiny victory tugs your lips skyward.

He tells you about his day at the Academy while the two of you eat. You’re delighted to hear he’s making a lot of friends and he’s at the top of his class for most science subjects. He’s struggling a bit more with his poetry and ethics classes, but you encourage him by reminding him he can just ask the teacher for extra assignments to keep his grade up.

“I interviewed for a new job today,” you reveal, stirring the spoon in your bowl while waiting for your brother to eat more of his food.

“How did it go?”

“Well, it pays really well so I’m hopeful.”

The hope dancing in his eyes makes your chest ache. You don’t have the heart to tell him you made a fool of yourself today. You may not be gifted like your brother, but you want him to know he can rely on you at least.

Pursing his mouth, he looks down at his stew.

“That’s great. It’d be good if you didn’t have to work as much.”

Your smile falters. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”

“Okay.”

His dour tone stirs your concern. You wish you were better at hiding things from him, making his childhood as normal as possible. But your brother’s twelve now, and that’s old enough to sense when things are wrong.

He rises from his seat. You frown as you note there’s still food left in his bowl.

“Finish your plate before going to your room.”

Annoyance pinches his features but he still picks up his bowl and hastily guzzles down the remainder of his stew.

“Happy now?” he says, wiping his mouth.

“Yes. Very,” you cheerfully respond.

He gathers his books and strides towards his room.

Your voice rises.

“Don’t stay up too late to study, okay? I love you.”

“I…love you too,” he mumbles.

You bask in the moment as you clean the table. Thankfully Laertes is still at an age where he says it back. One day he might not. So you must cherish every instant. Every conversation, every hug, every ‘I love you’. Because it could all vanish in a second. You learned that the hard way a year ago.

The day of the interview recedes to the back of your mind as you keep living your life. Work is harrowing, as usual, but you tend to your tasks as best as you can. Your arms ache as you knead the dough in the back of the bakery. You give yourself a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It’s been a hectic afternoon. There’s a massive pastry order for some Capitol heiress’ birthday due tomorrow. So you’ve been racing between the front desk and the kitchen in the back. A baker called in sick today, leaving you with twice the workload.

You know it won’t take much to crash into your bed and fall asleep tonight.

To make matters worse, the day hits its nadir when you get your pay that day. You peer inside the envelope for the umpteenth time. An anxious chuckle peals out of your lips.

“I’m sorry I don’t want to complain, but…this doesn’t match the hours I put in.”

The owner scratches the back of his neck, a contrite expression etched on his face.

“I’m sorry too. With the new taxes imposed by the Capitol, I had to cut your salary.”

Slack-jawed by the news, no word leaves your mouth as you stare at him. He sighs.

“If it’s a problem, we can find someone else-”

“No, no,” you interrupt, blinking in panic. “Please, I need this job.”

He acquiesces and you’re forced to thank him despite feeling cheated. You actually scaled back your hours for your other part-times since this one paid more. What a waste.

Dispirited, you return home. As you give the driver a bill for the fare, your insides wrench. Every bill counts. Perhaps you’ll need to walk back home from now on. The streets of the Capitol are notoriously dangerous but you can’t see any other way to save your dwindling wages. You already know you’ll need to request an extension for rent this month. How will you pay it, however?

You suppose you’ll have to figure it out. You always figure it out.

These are the somber thoughts swaying in your mind as you check the mailbox.

Bills. Bills. And more bills. Your already sour mood plummets even more. But a slim, silver envelope sticking out from the pile corrals your focus. Curiosity surges inside you. It looks fancy and there’s a wax seal with the Capitol’s symbol keeping it shut. You rush to open it, heart fluttering in strange anticipation.

You unfold the neatly folded letter inside. As you read the words, you gasp, dropping the letter. Still trembling from shock and excitement, you bend to pick it up.

You take a deep slow breath before reading it again.

This time, a squeal escapes from your lips.

You read it many more times to make sure your eyes aren’t just conjuring wild fantasies.

After a while, you realize they aren’t. It’s true.

Holding the letter to your chest, you toss yourself on your bed and kick your feet excitedly.

You then place your palm on your forehead. In disbelief, you beam at the ceiling.

Somehow…you’ve been hired to work for the Snows. You actually got the job.

Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel.

You fidget before the iron gates, smoothing absent wrinkles on your skirt. It’s one of the best outfits you could find on short notice that wasn’t moth-eaten or visibly overworn. You pray it’s enough. You let your gaze wander. The Snows’ estate truly is majestic. The lush gardens. The beautiful architecture. You feel a little small as you admire the mansion.

Remembering yourself, you pivot to the man who drove you there. You fish inside your pocket for a bill and hand it to him. He stares at you blankly from the driver’s seat.

A weary sigh ripples behind you.

You turn, your eyes widening. It’s the woman who interviewed you that day. She wears the same stern expression.

“You don’t need to pay him,” she explains, dismissing the man with her hand. He nods and drives away. “He’s your assigned driver. He’ll pick you up each day and take you back home.”

“Oh.” You offer your hand. “Nice to meet you…again.”

She gives you a lengthy onceover, completely ignoring your gesture. Then she motions at you to follow her. You let your hand fall to your side. Heat blooms in your cheeks. Perhaps, you were too enthusiastic just then. Straightening your spine, you try your best to keep pace with her quick strides.

“I’m Pandora. I supervise most housekeeping duties for the president. I’ll show you around the estate. Then you’ll meet the young Master.”

She gives you a tour of the mansion. You’re even more amazed than last time though you try to suppress your awe and not stare excessively. She shows you the garden as well. The sea of snow-white roses makes your head spin. She specifies that the only part of the house that is off-limits is the west wing of the mansion, as these are the First Lady’s apartments and she must have rest and quiet.

She ends the visit by taking you to the nursery. A smile spontaneously finds its way onto your lips. A toddler plays with his toy train on the floor. With his blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he bears a striking resemblance to his father.

“That’s him? He’s so cute,” you whisper. Even the stern woman’s expression thaws a little as she looks at the child, softening ever-so-slightly. You send her a questioning glance. She gives you a nod of approval.

You approach the boy and crouch in front of him.

“Hi. You’re Martius, right?”

He lifts his head and beams at you. You’re immediately endeared. Again, his smile reminds you of President Snow. You suppose one could probably take over the world with a smile like that.

You turn to Pandora.

“Is his mother around? I should probably introduce myself.”

Her face pinches. “Mistress Livia has been unwell as of late. She is not to be disturbed today as she is quite tired.”

“Of course.” Your lips squeeze shut for a few seconds but curiosity gets the better of you. A question burns on your lips, one that nagged you ever since you got the job. It slips out before you can think it through. “Is this…Is this why the president and his wife require a nanny? The First Lady is sick?”

Pandora glowers at you. You flinch as she steps further inside the room, her searing tone like a whip.

“You are here to do your job, and nothing else. Mistress Livia’s health is no concern of yours. Do you hear me?”

You rise on shaky feet. You forgot yourself.

“I-I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”

“This reminds me. You have to sign this,” she says, handing you a pen and clipboard. A thin stack of papers are attached to the clipboard. The front page spells ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ in bold letters at the very top. You scowl as you flip through the pages.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a contract, one signed by every one of the President’s employees.”

“I don’t understand most of what’s written here…”

A frustrated exhale peals from her lips.

“I’ll make it simple for you then. For the duration of your employment here, nothing you see or hear must ever leave this house. You are here to care for the young master, that is all. Nothing else should concern you. Is that clear enough?”

You swallow thickly. It doesn’t sound hard at all. Discretion is essential in every job, isn’t it? But the way Pandora makes it sound, you’d assume there are bodies buried beneath the Snows’ estate. You’d laugh if her death stare weren’t so disquieting.

You peruse the contract, perplexed by most of the legal mumbo jumbo filling the pages. None of it rings any bell. You understand the gist of it however. You must preserve the president and his wife’s privacy. While you don’t know the specifics of the first lady’s condition, her public appearances have been few and far between in the last few years.

She used to be the envy of every woman in the Capitol. Beautiful, young and married to the dashing President Snow.

She was a fairytale princess come to life.

Then their son Martius was born. And when they held him up from the balcony of their mansion for all of Panem to gaze upon, they truly seemed like the perfect family.

Until one day, Livia Cardew simply…vanished.

She was noticeably absent from all the events of the season, some she even hosted herself. Tongues wagged of course, rumors and wild theories spreading like wildfire.

But no one knew the truth of what had happened to her.

The matter seems delicate. You promise yourself not to bring it up again.

You click the pen and scribble your name at the bottom of the very last page.

“I’ve…never signed a contract like that before starting a job.”

Pandora lets out a wry chuckle.

“Well, you’ve never worked for President Snow.”

As promised, you quit your two other jobs to focus solely on Martius. You’re hesitant at first. Your departed parents taught you never to put all your eggs in one basket. And it’s exactly what you’d be doing by trusting the Snows. But when you receive your first paycheck, long before the end of the week, every qualm you had fades. It’s more money than you’ve ever had, more money than you expected. Rent isn’t an issue anymore. Neither is food.

Besides, gifts keep coming from the estate. Clothes mostly, for both you and Laertes, but also jewelry, perfume and other fancy things you don’t need. Overwhelmed by President Snow’s generosity, you try to send some of it back, but you don’t have the heart to return everything when you see your brother’s happy face when he opens his wardrobe one day.

You’ve caught the self-conscious glimpses he casts at his classmates sometimes, when not wearing the Academy uniform. Their clothes are always brand new and custom, perfectly tailored while his are stitched back together by your clumsy hands whenever they fray at the seams. You’re not a seamstress but you’ve always done your best. But you know your best doesn’t compare to the access and privilege those kids have.

Other than those blessings, your time with Martius has been a breeze. Only hazy memories of your brother as a toddler linger in your mind, but you don’t recall him ever being as sweet and calm as the little boy is.

It hardly feels like work, caring for the small child. You spend the day playing along with his games, reading stories to him and, as the day nears its end, the two of you feed the ducks in the massive pond behind the mansion. He even gives them names and gets upset when they fight with each other.

“Lily doesn’t like James anymore,” he whispers to you one day, a sullen pout scrunching his tiny features.

“And why is that?”

“I think she’s angry that he steals her food.”

You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. The little boy always has a story for everything he sees. At all times, his world must make sense. So if he cannot find a reason to explain what fills his gaze, he’ll weave a tale that matches it. His stories are each more wild than the other and he sometimes utters words you’ve never heard a four year old use.

But you surmise it is expected from the son of the president. When he isn’t with you, the little boy is often with his private tutor. Even at his tender age, the importance of manners and eloquence is impressed upon him.

Martius tugs at your skirt when you make your way to the door. You look down. His blue eyes are pleading.

“You’re leaving again?”

You heave out a long exhale. The little boy wasn’t so clingy before but with your bond growing, he’s been expressing more sadness from watching you go at the end of every day.

You hunker down to his level.

“My little brother’s expecting me.”

His forehead puckers. “Stay…”

“I told you before, Martius. I have a brother. He’ll miss me if I’m not here.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, giving a begrudging nod. Tears already swim in his eyes though. Panic flows through you. You didn’t want to upset him. You pick him up and bounce with him in your arms to try to soothe him.

“Oh, no. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nearly squeezing you to death when he wraps his arms around your neck. His loud, tearful sobs swell in the room. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow like always, okay? So I need you to be brave for me.” His grip on you loosens as he sniffles. You put him down and the two of you pinky promise that you’ll return. Your heart twists at the sight of his tear-stained little face.

You give his hair one last affectionate pat before rushing outside. If you stay, he might throw another tantrum. No matter what, you can never get mad at Martius. He’s just a child. In the absence of his mother, he’s bound to grow attached to any woman filling a role adjacent to hers. You loathe that you’re taking those moments from the first lady. Though it pleases you to have a steady job and spend time with the sweet boy, it feels wrong that she isn’t there. She should get to see her baby grow up. She should hear his inane ramblings and eccentric stories.

As time wears on, you’re dying to meet her and tell her about Martius. Is she truly so sick that she can’t even see him for a mere few minutes? You’re itching to break the rules and visit the west wing of the mansion. Sometimes you hear blood-curdling screams and wailing coming from the dark halls but you never dared venture through them. You know that if you did, Pandora would crucify you.

Laertes’ well-being matters more than your curiosity.

Humming absently, you halt in your tracks in the middle of a hallway. Confusion has you blinking. A peculiar noise bounces faintly against the walls. Your gaze drifts sideways, where the noise seems to come from. You’re clocking out. Whatever’s going on in the house isn’t any of your business at this hour.

But what if someone needs help? What if it’s something bad? You’d feel awful if you learnt something happened the next day and you pretended to ignore it. So you gingerly approach the wall. Your fingers graze the tapestry covering it.

Your eyes widen when the wall moves, a tiny crack forming in it.

Your eyes bulge. It’s an ajar door, you realize. A secret door one wouldn’t notice if they weren’t aware it was there. Light spills from the slight opening.

Confining your breath, you bend over the crack in the wall to get a glimpse of what’s behind it.

The vision crowding your sight makes the blood in your veins freeze.

President Snow rutting into a maid with his pants down to his ankles. His usually neat blonde locks are tousled, a few damp curls kissing his forehead. His massive cock glistens with the girl’s essence, disappearing into the girl’s spread lips over and over again. Her body is bent over the railing of the bed and her maid outfit is bunched around her hips, exposing her ass, the flesh trembling with each of the president’s harsh, pointed thrust.

Each time he snaps his hips he draws a broken moan from her. One of his hands is around the back of her throat while the other’s on the small of her back. He grunts low in his throat as she clenches around him, thrusting into her even faster than before.

The obscene sound of their coupling rises, coalescing with the feral grunts spilling from the president’s mouth. In that moment, he’s not the poised gentleman you’re used to seeing, he is an animal in rut chasing his high.

A shocked exhale escapes your lips. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. President Snow’s head snaps up, his gaze landing straight on you.

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

You jump back from the door and push the secret door closed. You dart across the hallway, determined to find the exit as quickly as you can. You don’t glance back, your steps hasty and panicked.

Pandora was right. It’s best not not to hear or see anything, to become a tomb in which secrets are buried.

You can only hope he didn’t recognize you through the tiny crack in the door.

Though you’re shaken to your core, you continue your work as a nanny. You still need money. You may have set aside everything you made thus far, but it will only sustain you and your brother for a month or two. Besides, you’ve already handed in your resignation for your other jobs. The positions have likely been filled. You can’t exactly show up out of the blue and ask for your former job back.

No. So you convince yourself that it’s alright. You have a good thing going anyway. You’re making more than you hoped. The child is happy. You’re happy. All is well. Or it would be at least.

…If you could conjure the memory of President Snow railing into the maid far away from your mind.

You want to forget it, bury the moment so deep in the abyss of your thoughts, it can never be unearthed.

But it isn’t so easy. Because every time your mind wanders even a little, you see him again. Skin glistening with sweat and blue eyes alight with lust. The image is tattooed into your brain.

You wonder if the first lady knows. Perhaps it’s why she’s hiding away. The weight of her husband’s indiscretions may have grown too heavy to carry. It sours your heart. President Snow seemed so kind, good and noble. He was nice to you. You still have the breast pocket he gave you tucked away in a drawer. You loathe to think he’d do that to his wife. No woman deserves this.

You lift your head when your name is uttered. You get to your feet. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Pandora was in the nursery.

“Yes?”

“The president wants to see you in his office.”

Dread wrenches your gut. It’s exactly what you feared. Does he know? Did he see you? Your pulse picks up. What other reason would there be? He never summoned you before.

“Really, why?”

“He didn’t say, but I’m assuming it’s to congratulate you.”

Befuddlement wrinkles your forehead. “Congratulate me?”

Pandora heaves out a weary sigh. “Well, you’ve done much better than we thought,” she begrudgingly admits. “The young master smiles all the time.” She rolls her eyes. “Even if we must deal with his tantrums when you leave.”

A sliver of pride flutters through you with her admission. Pandora made her doubts about your capabilities plain and obvious from the beginning. It gladdens you that you may have changed her mind a little.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She turns to him, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”

Your smile vanishes as she adds, “Now let me escort you to the president’s office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you trail behind her. The entire trek to the president’s office, your stomach’s in knots. You keep wondering if it’s the day you’ll lose your job for being too nosy. You should have walked past the noise. You shouldn’t have peeked.

You inhale a lungful of nerve as Pandora opens the door to his office and frees room for you to enter. Your clammy hands wrench in your lap. He’s sitting behind his desk. You stagger further inside the room as he motions for you to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looks the same as the first time you stumbled into him, disarmingly handsome in an impeccable shirt and pants that flatter his long legs.

A sharp contrast to the version of him that has plagued your thoughts lately.

His sky gaze follows you as you take a trembling seat.

“Are you settling in well?” he asks.

“Hm, yes,” you stammer, anxiously twining your fingers. “It’s pretty much the perfect job. I get to be around a cute child all day.”

“I hear my son is very fond of you.”

You bashfully dip your head. “He’s very easy to like. He’s such a good boy, sweet, kind, and curious. You and your wife are raising him well, sir.”

He hums in thought. “I can’t take much credit for that. I’ve tried my best to carve out time for Martius…but work’s kept me busy. As for Livia...” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Well she isn’t quite herself these days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He places one hand under his chin, scrutinizing you. You try not to twitch beneath his stare, your insides tight with dread.

“Hm, it’s strange,” he states after a minute that goes by like an eternity.

Your head rises. “What’s strange?”

“A girl like you.” His lips drag upward. “Sweet, nurturing, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be married already?”

Your lips part in astonishment. This isn’t the line of questioning you expected. “I-I’m not.”

“No fiancé?”

“No, sir.”

“A lover then?”

Warmth rushes to your face.

“No…”

He laughs, mirth dancing in his cobalt orbs.

“You must pardon me for being so forward but I simply find it astonishing. No suitors? It’s hard to believe since you’re so lovely, sweetheart.” He tilts his head. You shift in discomfort, his attention making you feel see-through. “I mean, a husband would have made your life easier than it’s been thus far, wouldn’t he, dove?”

A long exhale flows from your lips. “I’ve had offers, after I graduated from the Academy. There was even this boy, he was so kind to me.” The memory draws a small smile from you. “He proposed. I’m sure he’d make a great husband, but…”

“But…”

Your mouth dries.

“I know it’s probably naive and unrealistic but I want to marry for love, that great, life-changing love, like in those romance novels my mom used to love, not money or status.”

His eyes twinkle. “Or financial stability?”

Shame gathers in your chest. You know it sounds silly when uttered aloud.

“I know, I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. It’s sweet that you still believe in love.” He appears lost in a faraway memory, his gaze hazing over with remembrance. “I used to believe in it too. I used to think, ‘Who needs wealth and success and power when love conquers all?’”

He chuckles but it’s bereft of amusement.

“Really? What happened then?”

His gaze locks with yours.

“I grew up.”

Confused, you frown.

“But aren’t you and the first lady in love?”

Another laugh bursts from his chest.

“God, you’re sweet.” His tone lowers to a dulcet whisper. “It’s like none of the world’s ugliness has gotten to you yet.” He reveals matter-of-factly, “My wife and I hate each other.” His smile widens at your flabbergasted expression. “Always did. It’s best that way, more…efficient. Of course, there was a time, when we had…passion.” He licks his lips, something you can’t pinpoint flickering in his gaze. “But not anymore. She’s far too gone for that.”

He rises from his chair. You stiffen as he circles the desk, making slow steps towards you.

“Which is why I must…satiate my needs wherever I can,” he mumbles, fingers lurking under your chin, forcing your eyes to fall upon him. “Do you understand my meaning, dove?”

“I…yes.”

Discomfort flares within you. Tension hangs in the air, so heavy it clogs your airways.

He cocks his head, lips slanting crookedly.

“Do you really? With that innocent look in your eyes, it’s hard to tell.” His thumb sweeps over your shuddering bottom lip. “Men have needs. And am I not a man, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes you are, sir.”

He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “You saw everything that day, didn’t you?” Your heart stops.

Flames lick your face as you bow your head. “I-I didn’t see anything.”

His warm breath ghosts over your earshell.

“Liar,” he mumbles.

Your pulse quickens.

He leans back and nudges your chin upward.

“Since my wife fell sick, I’ve been very lonely. And sometimes…” He looms over you, crowding your space as you peer up at him, fingers squeezing the arms of the chair. “I need something soft and warm to forget that feeling.”

President Snow slowly falls to his knees in front of you. His fingers find your thigh, starting to creep under your skirt. A devilish glint sparkles in his cobalt gaze. He finds your center, pressing the sheer fabric into your folds. You gasp. He chuckles at your reaction. He starts teasing you through your panties, tracing your slit and dragging over your tender bud. Your breath hitches as the air around you grows hotter. You grow slick beneath his finger, your thighs shaking as tingles bloom on your flesh.

“Sir…” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.

He pushes further inside you, adding another finger, and you unleash an audible breath. You try to close your thighs. He places his other hand on your knee to keep you open for him.

The air in your lungs grows thinner as he rubs your core through your soaked panties. The friction is a delicious torture. Pleasure pools in your belly causing your face to burn with shame. You’re getting embarrassingly wet with President Snow’s attention.

“I just want a little taste,” he murmurs, his deep timbre bleeding lust. “Just one time and it’ll never happen again,” he promises fervently as his lips graze your ankle. You find some relief when his fingers disappear from your drenched center. But your respite is ephemeral. He slips his hands under your ass and tugs at your panties.

Panic widens your eyes. Cheeks ablaze, you pull at the material between your legs with both hands. But he’s stronger than you and effortlessly drags the fabric along your legs. A wicked smile plays on his lips as tears glisten in your eyes. It’s soon down to your ankles. You squeal when the president yanks the panties off your foot, tossing them aside. Cool air sneaks beneath your skirt, swirling over your bare folds.

Hands over your knees to keep you spread, his wolfish gaze sweeps over your glossy folds.

Your skin heats, embarrassment gathering in your chest. You’ve never been this vulnerable and exposed in front of anybody before.

“Please, President Snow, s-stop…”

“But you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he states smugly, sinking a finger inside your weeping core, as if to make a point. Your breath hitches. He takes his finger out sluggishly. You clench when he grazes one of your sensitive spots. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he hums, obscenely licking your essence off his long digit.

Without a warning, he buries his head between your thighs. A sharp exhale leaps from your mouth. His cool tongue traces a wet trail over your folds. President Snow traces maddening patterns over your swollen bud causing your eyes to roll back.

You card your fingers through his silken platinum locks, hoping to push his head away. But the delightful sensations grow too overwhelming. You unravel beneath his sinful ministrations, your limbs twitching as the thread of your thoughts comes loose.

Your grip on his hair weakens. Your belly tightens, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

You jolt as his tongue flickers over your tender heap of nerves.

“P-President…”

He purrs against your folds and the vibrations rock through your core. You squirm in the chair. Your thighs quake. Your vision dims, your mind blank as waves of pleasure swaddle you in their tide. Protests scatter on your tongue, replaced by wanton whimpers and moans.

Electricity ripples through your spine as you cry out.

Bliss engulfs you and your legs turn liquid. Shame swirls in your gut as your juices coat his tongue. He drinks your nectar, elation rumbling in his chest.

When he lifts his head, you hardly recognize him. The feral glow in his gaze chills your blood.

There is no time to collect yourself, realize what just occurred, as the blonde gathers your limp frame from the chair and places you on his desk. Documents and papers are flung to the ground as he grabs your thighs and presses his throbbing hard-on against your cunt.

He hastily unbuttons his pants, freeing his hard length. He fists his cock and guides it through your wet entrance. Your back arches, the sudden intrusion robbing you of air. He reaches the hilt of you in a few seconds, giving you no time to accommodate his thick girth. You collapse over the desk, weak whimpers leaving you as your walls are stretched to their limit. He drags out of you, his pupils flaring as they trace the motion of his length in and out of you. Coriolanus leans over you. He snaps his pelvis into your hips, each of his thrusts tearing tearful moans from your throat.

When you turn your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks, he grabs your chin so you’re forced to meet his lustful stare. Bracing himself on the desk, he reaches between your bodies to pinch your swollen clit. He plucks at your soft bud until you shatter around him with a sob. His throat bobs, a look of sheer bliss flitting across his face when you clench around him.

“I’ve been dying to fuck you the minute I saw you,” he confesses, trailing soft pecks over your collarbone. A sinister chuckle peals from his lips. “The way you looked at me with those sweet, innocent eyes…it made me rock-hard.” He tilts your chin towards him, his thumb skimming over your parted lips.

Satisfaction glimmers in his eyes as they flick over your prone form.

“You should thank me. Those boys at the Academy wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you…” His cock twitches inside you. Sticky warmth spills from him, painting your walls and dripping past your hole. Drops of his seed leak onto the desk. A throaty sigh pours from President Snow’s throat as your cunt flutters around him.

His teeth nip the skin of your neck.

“...But I do.”

After what occurs in his office, you hope to avoid President Snow. Those hopes are swiftly dashed however. President Snow lied to you. It doesn’t happen once. In fact, you begin to lose count of the actual number.

Every time the president finds a little spare time, he summons you.

Sometimes you end up bent over the desk in his office as he pours the frustrations of the day into your warm hole. Sometimes he prefers you sprawled on your back in one of the multitude of luxurious beds in the mansion while he devours you as if you were his very last meal. And at times, he grows even more impatient and simply shoves you against a wall before ravaging you.

More than once, a maid or footman has walked in on the two of you, and you’ve had to swallow your shame and embarrassment.

As you’ve come to learn, the entire staff is aware of Coriolanus Snow’s insatiable appetite and none of them seems to care.

You feel sick, desperate, trapped in something twisted and awful you never signed up for.

But how does one say no to President Coriolanus Snow? The entire Capitol yields to his every whim. And you are the same. Here to bow and smile and lie back whenever he demands it.

You long to focus on your job, to care for Martius and nothing else. Whenever the boy looks up at you with those innocent blue eyes, eerily similar to his father’s, your stomach wrenches. You pray he never comes to learn what kind of man his father is. You wish he’d stay just as kind and sweet as he is now.

Those are the thoughts drifting through your mind as you watch Martius play with his toy trains. Your eyes wander towards the window. Outside, orange and purple hues are bleeding into the sky, the afternoon nearing its end. Your stomach coils. It’s during times like these that President Snow often seeks you out. You’ve tried to run away from him but it’s all a game to Coriolanus, and he always delights in chasing you through the hallways.

Your brows crumple as you note that Martius has stopped playing. He drops his toy and rushes to your side. Confounded by his behavior, you’re on the cusp of asking him what’s wrong…but your gaze follows what caught his attention on the other side of the room.

You fall silent, your eyes rounding in shock.

“Martius. Come here, my love,” says the blonde woman in a white robe and nightgown, her arms wide open.

Time stands still for a few seconds. It takes you a while to realize who stands before the door. She looks so different, more ghost than woman, her glassy blue eyes hollow and sunken. But her likeness is unmistakable. Even with her graying, limp tresses and ashen complexion, you recognize Livia Cardew. The president’s wife.

You bolt to your feet. Arms still open, Livia takes slow steps towards Martius.

“I’m your mom, sweetie. Don’t you remember me?”

The little boy’s fists clutch your skirt as he hides his face against your leg.

“You’re not my mom.”

A stricken look twists Livia’s features as she shrinks. As if her own son just drove a knife through her heart. Your chest twinges. While her abrupt appearance is a shock, you can’t imagine how she must feel. You place a hand on Martius’ back and try to nudge him forward.

“Martius. It’s the First Lady, your mother. Go on, hug her,” you urge softly.

He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he hides behind you even more.

You’re stunned. Has it truly been that long?

“Martius-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, Livia lunging at you, her eyes wild with fury.

“You! This is all your fault,” she hisses. She points at you and scoffs, “You’re his new whore, aren’t you?” Her mouth wobbles as she grips her head. “First you take my husband, now my son.”

Martius begins to sob. His loud cries overlap with his mother’s frantic yelling. You cover his eyes, tossing Livia an apologetic look.

“First Lady, I never meant-”

Before you can explain yourself, she grabs a nearby vase and smashes it. White roses scatter on the floor. Stomping all over the petals and broken glass, she collects one of the shards and races towards you. Terror numbs you. You freeze as Livia aims the shard at you, scarlet droplets dripping on her nightgown as she squeezes her fist around the glass.

Your eyes shut as you wait for the inevitable strike.

You shiver, waiting still.

But it doesn’t come.

“Livia, darling, that’s enough. It’s time for you to sleep and take your medicine.”

The familiar sound of Coriolanus’ voice causes your eyes to snap open.

You watch him restrain a struggling Livia. She curses at him, fighting him with all her might. It’s a painful spectacle.

“No, don’t touch me!” Other staff members rush into the room. It takes several people to hold Livia down, colorful expletives pouring from her mouth as she punches and kicks whoever comes close. “You’re killing me! You bastard! Give me my son back! Martius! Martius!”

The child trembles against your skirt, his tear-filled gaze stuck to the floor.

Eventually someone manages to stick a needle into Livia’s neck. She instantly goes limp, arm still reaching for her son in her last conscious second.

“Take her away,” Coriolanus instructs.

The first lady’s flaccid form is dragged out of the room. Still shaken by what you just witnessed, you don’t move a muscle. President Snow approaches you, worry swimming in his blue orbs.

“Are you alright, dove?” He cups your cheeks, his brows crumpling as his gaze settles on your neck. “I’ll have Doctor Gaul look at you. She has an ointment for that.” He caresses your cheeks, smiling. You gape at him. How can he smile at a time like that? “It won’t even scar. I promise.”

You graze your neck. Your fingers come away bloody. Oh. Livia nicked you with the shard but you didn’t even feel it. Perhaps adrenaline numbed you to the pain.

“Dada,” Martius chimes, lifting his chubby arms.

Coriolanus’ face warms as he picks up his son. He tosses him in the air and catches him. Martius giggles through his tears.

“My sweet boy. That was very scary, wasn’t it?” he says, balancing his son on his hip. Martius nods and wipes his nose. Coriolanus flicks his cheek, beaming at him. “Don’t worry, son. The scary lady won’t bother you anymore in a few months.”

A wave of ice blows through your veins. You wonder why the president uttered those words with such certainty. Like a promise. Or a prophecy. Almost as if he knows exactly when the grim reaper will come knock on his wife’s door.

The next day, you hand over your resignation to Pandora. Her expression is skeptical as she gauges the manila folder you give her.

“This is for the president,” you announce.

She unleashes a deep exhale. “You should reconsider, sleep on it.”

You almost laugh. Sleep on it? You can hardly find rest, the picture of a disheveled Livia Cardew crying out for her son haunting your nights. Whatever befell upon the poor woman, you wouldn’t be surprised if her husband somehow had a hand in it. It broke your heart, seeing her like that, her own son unable to recognize her. You also despise the role Coriolanus forced you to play in erasing her memory.

All of it feels wrong.

And most of all, you don’t want President Snow to use you to satisfy his lewd desires anymore. He took all your firsts, all the moments that should have been beautiful, and made them a nightmare you have to relive every time he touches you.

You respected him; you admired him. Now you can’t be in his presence without dread whispering through you. What will he make you do this time? How will he make you small and powerless again?

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. He can hire someone else to care for him.”

Pandora purses her lips and shakes her head.

“It’s really not that simple. The president has developed…a fondness for you.”

You bristle. “I have to go back home. Laertes is expecting me.”

“You won’t like what comes next, trust me.” Her gaze narrows. “No one leaves the president.”

Ignoring the shudder elicited by her daunting words, you pivot and make a beeline towards the exit. Pandora’s voice echoes down the hallways.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Depleted, you glumly make your way to the gates. You enter the car that takes you back home everyday. Your thoughts wander as the Snow’s house grows smaller through the car window. You were thrilled when you got this job. It felt like kismet after the year you and your brother had. A rainbow after the rain. A slice of hope.

How it all went to hell so quickly. You’re still reeling from it. You’ve no idea what you’ll do next. The only thing you know for certain is that you will not step foot into the Snows’ estate ever again.

The car suddenly halts. You bump your head into the passenger’s seat. Wincing, you grip the sides of your head. As you retrieve your senses, you look around. You stopped.

You toss a questioning look at the driver.

But before he can respond, the car door opens and you’re yanked outside. Two pairs of strong arms drag you away from the car.

You take in the blue uniforms of the men. Terror pulses through your blood.

Peacekeepers.

Noting the guns at their sides, you stop trying to resist. There’s no fighting against them, ever. They are the Capitol’s fist and carry the President’s will. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you likely never did. You slump in their grip, despair thrumming inside you.

They escort you to a black car with tinted windows. Your pulse soars. You’ve only ever seen one individual step out of this car.

The peacekeepers toss you inside and slam the door shut.

Your fearful gaze rises to him.

He casually sits in front of you, his eyes narrowed.

“You disappoint me, dove.” He lets out a weary sigh. “After everything I’ve done for you…you try to leave me. I thought you were smarter than that.”

You twine your hands, sputtering, “I-I’m not the right person for this job, sir.”

He slides his fingers under your chin, tilting it upward.

“Oh but you’re perfect. My son loves you. You’re sweet, dutiful and most importantly…” He smirks. “You are mine. Mine to hold, spoil and fuck whenever I please for however long I please.”

The prospect fills you with dread. He wants you to be his toy again, submissive, available whenever he pleases.

“Sir…”

His jaw ticks, his hold on your jaw tightening.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your brother could attend the University, free of charge? A bright young mind such as his, I believe he deserves it.” His blue eyes twinkle. “Instead of, let’s say…end up in a District, his name chosen as a tribute in the next Hunger Games.” Your heart sinks to your feet. “That’d be awful, wouldn’t it? So cruel…” he mumbles, stroking your trembling bottom lip.

“No, please,” you beseech, tears swelling in your eyes. Your brother’s all you have left in the world. Nothing can happen to him.

Coriolanus fondles your cheek, the tender gesture a sharp contrast to the wicked words rolling off his tongue.

“It’s all up to you, then, dove. As long as you behave, I’ll give you the world. But if you act like a little brat again…” A threat lurks in his soft tone, a glint of madness swaying in his cobalt orbs. “I really don’t know what I might do.”

Chills dance over your spine.

“I promise to never do it again,” you blurt out.

He pulls out a square from his breast pocket. It’s identical to the one he used the first time.

But a lifetime seems to have passed since that moment, the world now so different from what you imagined, and the man before you…even more so.

“Good girl,” he lauds while swiping away your tears.

He shoves the pocket square back in its place. Coriolanus then beams at you as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants.

“Now, I’ve had a long, exhausting day. So how about you get on your knees for me and make it better with that sweet mouth of yours, dove?”

#dark!coriolanus snow #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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ellecdc · 2 months

Text

The Hazards of Hiccoughs

poly!darksun x fem!reader who falls for one of James' pranks by accident

prompts: "anything with dark sun" & "reader gets caught in the crossfire of one of their pranks", scenario by @unstablereader

CW: Barty threatening murder (the usual), descriptions of asthma and asthma attack, reader panics because she can't breathe, hurt/comfort but mostly fluff and humour

One word to describe James Potter would be, without a doubt, brave.

If you asked his friends to find words to describe him, he may get the odd “clever”, “mischievous”, “troublesome”, “annoying git” etcetera; but at the end of the day, no one could deny that James Potter was, in fact, brave.

He was a Gryffindor, afterall.

He spent his spare time flying on an enchanted piece of bark as high as the tallest towers in Hogwarts (and oftentimes then some), and finding many new and creative ways to give his mother a few more grey hairs by performing tricks and stunts at said heights.

He spent an evening every month with the likes of a werewolf, and didn’t even quiver at the prospect of being sent to Azkaban when he became an unregistered animagus.

He’s battled racist gits on the school grounds, found himself facing grounds for detention, suspension, and expulsion all in the name of mischief, and he has made both enemies and the greatest of friendships with the likes of Slytherin’s.

In fact, one of James’ bravest ventures was getting the likes of one Barty Crouch Junior into his bed.

So, yeah….James Potter was brave.

So brave.

Except, maybe not right now.

Except maybe, right now, he was very much decidedly not brave and actually very much afraid.

What was James so afraid of, one might wonder?

Oh, well, you remember that very brave venture James made once upon a brave moment where he won over the affections of one such Barty Crouch Junior?

Yeah, that.

James was afraid of that.

Or, more specifically, James was very much afraid of what Barty was going to do when he found out what James had done (inadvertently!!!) to you.

You see, one of those things James was so well known for? You know? His mischief. Well, he’d had a brilliant pranking idea.

He and Sirius knew that Regulus bought caramel sugar quills every Hogsmeade trip for the Slytherin common room, as it was a crowd favourite.

During one of James and Sirius’ (many) recent detentions, they had the (quite brilliant, if you asked either of them) idea of using the same charm used in hiccough lollies sold at Zonko's on the sugar quills, thus sending the Slytherin gits (affectionate, since one of them was James’ adopted little brother and the other was his boyfriend, and, you know, all of their closest friends) into a hiccoughing fit!

It was hilarious, and James wasn’t ashamed to admit that he and Sirius laughed so hard at the vision of them hiccoughing their way through the castle that they were given another detention for their behaviour during detention.

And it had gone oh so smoothly.

James was often in the Slytherin common room either with or without you on account of both of your relationship with Barty, and was able to place them in their usual spot on a dark stained wooden cabinet beside the fireplace without rousing much suspicion.

It had gone perfectly.

So perfectly, that is, until his poor sweet angel came running to him choking and coughing and wheezing with tear tracks down your pretty face because you had fallen for his (now very obviously) stupid and idiodic prank.

James had been present for a few of your asthma attacks before, but none of them seemed quite as bad as this one. He always had one of your inhalers in his room for emergencies, and you had convinced yourself that the one you had on your person was either faulty or expired, but no sooner would the medication begin to soothe your air-thirsty lungs would you begin hiccoughing again and the cycle would continue.

It didn’t help that you were clearly panicked, and James didn’t think that was completely unreasonable seeing as you couldn’t breathe, so James had worked hard to remain as calm as he possibly could for the both of you.

He’d nicked one of Moony’s calming draught’s for you and brought you and your inhalers up to the top of the astronomy tower for some quiet and fresh air; rubbing circles along your back, taking deep, methodical breaths with you, helping you take another puff when the hiccoughing began to take over, and washed, rinsed, and repeated until the hiccoughing had finally subsided.

You were undoubtedly exhausted after the emotional ordeal, and James opted to bring you down to his dorm so you could sleep it off (and so that he could keep an eye on you).

He watched your form almost obsessively where you were curled up in his bed in one of his quidditch jumpers from his desk chair; watching your chest rise and fall evenly, without restriction as he fought to bring his own panic down.

“Merlin that could have been bad.” Sirius let out with a breath from his own bed, joining James in watching you breathe as if he too needed convincing that you still were.

“Don’t.” James bit out sharply. “Don’t even go there.”

“How’d she even get to them before anyone else did?” He continued, agreeing with James that wondering what might have happened if you hadn’t found James was too scary.

“Because we had the brilliant idea of going during Slytherin's quidditch practice.” James sneered, still never removing his gaze from your chest.

“What are you going to tell Junior?” He asked then, causing James’ stomach to lurch not at all pleasantly.

One of the things James loved so much about Barty was how much he loved. Barty loved everything with all the intensity of a fiendfyre explosion; he dedicated himself mind, body, and soul 110% to those he cherished.

And one thing Barty cherished perhaps most in the whole wide world was you.

“Do I have to tell him?” James groaned then, finally moving his gaze from you to the face of his thoroughly bemused best friend.

“Will she not tell him?”

James responded with a noncommittal sound as Peter walked in the door.

“Tell who what?” He asked as he let his book bag fall to the ground with a thud, earning him a hasty “shhhh” from James and “Tell Barty we almost killed his Treasure” from Sirius.

“Oh, well I just let him into the common room.” Peter offered simply as he laid back casually on his four poster bed.

“You what!?” James beseeched, earning him a hasty “sshhh” from Sirius.

“He said he was coming to find you. Stopped to ask Remus about a book they were talking about last week first.” Peter responded with a shrug.

“No! No. Nonononono.” James began chanting as he took off in a sprint towards the common room.

James nearly ricocheted off of Barty from how fast he’d been going down the stairs that both of them winced as they took the other in.

“Salazar, Jamie. I’m happy to see you too but you didn’t have to tackle me like some muggle American footballer.” He groaned as he massaged his ribs.

“Sorry! Sorry. Hi! Hi, bubs. How are you? How was practice!?” James rapid-fired with faux cheer.

So along with being brave, mischievous, and perhaps more than a little bit afraid of his boyfriend, James was also a terrible liar.

“What’s going on?” Barty asked suspiciously after scanning James’ face for only 0.7 seconds.

“Nothing! What? What do you mean!? Nothing, of course!”

“What did you do?” He deadpanned; his question poised more like a demand of honesty than it was an inquiry.

James forced out his most disbelieving scoff. “Wha- what do you mean? Nothing, of course! Why, why would I have done anything?”

“You’re literally always up to no good which is usually why I like you so much, but this-” Barty paused to wave a hand over James rather generally, “is freaking me out. Spill.”

“Okay, listen, she’s alright, but-”

“Where is she?” Barty demanded - any levity quickly seeping from his face and tone as he stood up straighter.

“I just said she was okay, Barty-”

“Which means she wasn’t okay at some point.”

“There….may have been an incident.” James offered slowly.

“For fucks sa- get out of my way.” Barty grumbled as he shoved his way past James and took the stairs two at a time to get to James’ dorm room.

“How’d he know she was up there?” James wondered aloud, surprised when Remus answered him.

“I told him the two of you were upstairs.” He said as he fell into step with James.

“You told him!?”

Remus rolled his eyes so hard James was actually certain that this would be the time they finally got stuck like that. “Of course I didn’t, you prat. Why would I waste the chance to watch the theatrics.”

James groaned as they rounded the corner to their shared dorm, emotionally (and physically) bracing himself for said theatrics, only to find Barty kneeling on the floor beside James’ bed as he brushed your hair away from your face.

“That must’ve been really scary.” Barty murmured quietly; a divot between his eyebrows as he scanned your face as if looking to see any lingering signs of distress.

“M’okay; Jamie took care of me.” You responded quietly; words stretched out by the exhaustion still clearly weighing you down.

Barty hummed noncommittally and continued scanning your face. “Do you still want me to kill him for you though? You know I will, yeah?” He offered, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your (what James was sure was still overheated) face.

You chuckled and turned your face to him so he could press a kiss to your lips.

“No, I like him too much.” You offered softly as you nuzzled back into James’ pillow. “So do you.”

“Do not.” Barty argued petulantly, causing you to swing your arm out at him.

He caught it quickly and brought your knuckles to his lips. “Don’t exert yourself.”

“Don’t tell lies.” You countered.

Barty groaned dramatically and threw his head back. “Fine; I’m crazy about him. But I’d still kill him, you know?”

“You’re all bark.”

“He doesn’t need to know that.” Barty hissed back in faux chiding as he locked his now narrowed eyes onto James, and even though James had been privy to the conversation that just took place, he couldn’t help the nervous gulp he took.

“Seems like we might’ve gone scot-free for this one.” Sirius stage whispered at James, causing Barty’s somewhat dark glare at James to turn into something downright murderous when it moved to Sirius.

“You might want to run.” Remus stage whispered at Sirius who then took his own nervous gulp.

“It was nice knowing you, Moons.” Sirius offered solemnly with a head nod. “Pete, take care of our boy, yeah?”

Peter, for his part, offered Sirius nothing more than a thumbs up from his bed as he and James began backing slowly out of the dorm room.

“Barty - my love - I just want you to remember how much you love and care for me, yeah? And also that sweet angel over there, who would definitely not like to have me dead or for you to spend time in prison for murdering my best friend- NOW, PADS!”

And like two characters on a muggle cartoon show, the two Gryffindors went scrambling from the doorway.

And if James had perhaps stuck around even a single moment longer, he would have heard Barty ask you if he could “at least scare them a little?” to which you simply replied “be my guest.”

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strawb3rrystar · 4 months

Text

Cork screws and bottle caps.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Aphrodisiac, Virgin! Reader, Mad corruption kink, Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Nipple play, Reader doesn't give verbal consent- but consent is given, Tom is obsessed with the reader, P in V sex, Overstimulation, Creampie, VERY DARK THEMES - I'm sorry I went a little insane while writing this

Word count: 2,056

✰Masterlist

Tom had recently picked up a new fascination with potion making. And you were the naive witch who agreed to be his test subject. He wasn't stupid however, he already knew what the potion would do to you. But you didn't have to know that fact.

Your feet hung off the edge of his bed, his dorm nestled in the Slytherin tower, his favorite place in the whole castle. Maybe he was a hypocrite for it, but he liked the way people's skin crawled when they walked near it. You cupped the bottle in your hands, swirling the liquid a little.

"Remember to drink all of it."

You look up at the brunette standing before you, giving him a soft nod of your head. You bring the bottle to your lips and close your eyes when the strongly sweet liquid starts filling your mouth. Tom watched you down the potion, a grin spreading across his face as his plan is set into fruition. Once you were finished he took the empty bottle from your hands, setting it on his desk. He then picked up some parchment and a quill, prepared to write down your reactions.

"It should take a few minutes for it to work."

Tom informs you, scribbling something down. It wasn't anything important, he wasn't here to write a paper on you. He admired you sitting on his bed. Your uniform skirt came just below your knees, frilly socks adorning your ankles. That was one thing you always liked about Hogwarts, the option to choose the bottoms to your uniform. Most girls chose the pants option, but you always admired the frill of a skirt.

Tom liked that about you, it's why he specifically asked you over every other girl. Your naivete, your innocence, the fact that you were so trusting of him. There was a rumor that you had never even kissed someone yet. A complete virgin, and he wanted to be your first. After a few minutes of waiting, your body started to feel hot. And tingly too, as if your senses were heightened.

"What was that potion..? Is it supposed to make me feel all hot?"

Tom smiled at your soft voice, a clear panic set in your eyes. You nervously fiddle with your fingers, waiting for a response. He placed his hand on top of your head, then moved it down to cup your cheek.

"It was an aphrodisiac, love."

He said it so calmly and sweetly, as if it was the most normal thing and you were stupid for questioning him. He loved the confused glimmer in your eye. You had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into.

"It makes you.. aroused."

He was going to use more innocent terms for you, but decided it would be better if he was blunt. Your eyes widen, heat pooling in your lower abdomen.

"Why.. why would you give me that?"

Your questioning voice was adorable. The way you tried to act tough, but the slight quiver in your voice gave you away. Tom brings his the end of his quill under your chin, holding back a grin.

"I told you. It's for research."

He discards the parchment and writing utensil, leaning closer to you. You lean away from him, your breathing turning into distress. Tom doesn't back away, so within seconds your back is pressed against his mattress. A smile spreads across his lip, his hand touching your thigh. He caresses it for a few seconds before pushing your skirt up your legs. You instinctively clamp your legs shut, a look of distain crosses his face.

"I thought you wanted this?"

You struggle to find the words to reject him. You didn't want your first time to be like this. But you couldn't stop the aching that came from between your legs. You needed him and you knew it. He shifts to fit in between your thighs, kisses the inside of one.

"It's okay, love. I'll take care of you. Make you feel good."

Tom didn't wait before pulling your underwear off, tossing it to the ground. He stared in awe at the sight of your dripping cunt. He imagined having you like this a million times. Pounding you into the mattress, making you cum so many times that you pass out. But to actually see you bare in front of him, it was like a dream come true. He moves his hands under your thighs and lifts them up a bit. Bringing his face closer to your heat, you held your breath in anticipation. His tongue gives a teat swipe up your folds, pulling a gasp out of you.

Tom's heart jumped at the sound, he wanted to see what other sounds he could drive out of you. So, he buries his face in between your thighs, immediately licking up your clit. A whimper escapes your lips and you cover your mouth with your hand. Tom's lips wrap around your bundle of nerves and suckles. You moan so sweetly, bucking your hips up into him. He works hard, sucking on it a little harsher, twirling his tongue around it. He moves his tongue to your precious hole, swirling around it as well. Tom prodded at your entrance, listening to your moans and whines. Then he pulls away from your cunt, looking down at you.

"You're so needy for me, love."

He brings his fingers and picks up some of your arousal with the pads of them. He rubs his fingers on you clit, making you thighs twitch. Tom does this for a second before bringing his digits to your entrance. He starts pushing his middle finger into you, making you gasp and you eyes widen.

"Have you not touched yourself before, baby?"

You shake your head no, biting on your lip to hold back your moans. He slightly chuckles, his other hand unbuttoning your uniform. His finger continues to push into you and soon it's buried to his palm. Tom wiggles it, causing you to squirm. He pulls your button-up off your chest and pulls down your bra. You whine when his hand roughly grabs one of your breasts. He shushes you, thrusting his finger in and out of you now.

Tom brushes his tongue over your nipple then skillfully takes it into his mouth. His finger continued to slowly thrust into for a few minutes before adding a second one. The feeling of the stretch caused you to dig your fingers into the green duvet that covered his bed. Your pussy made an embarrassing squelching sound, revealing how wet you were. Once you adjusted to his second finger he thrusted them faster into you.

Your moans were so sweet, so perfect, just for him. Tom wanted to capture them in a bottle and carry it around in his robe pocket. He never wanted to see you talking to one of those useless Gryffindor boys in the Great Hall. He wanted to be the only one you looked at that way. The more Tom thought about it, the more frustrated he got. He abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean.

"You taste so delicious, my love."

He made quick works of his clothes and the rest of yours. Admiring your body for a second, he lightly trails his hands over your abdomen down to your hips. He places him self in between your thighs, his cock painfully hard and leaking. This is what you did to him. Turned him from a high level wizard to a low level slut. Tom wanted to take his frustrations out on you. To break you until you'd forgotten every spell you learned. You wouldn't need magic if you were with him. He'd give you a good life, an easy life, away from the dangers of the wizarding world. He would provide a better life than any Gryffindor or Hufflepuff ever could.

Tom bumps the head of his cock into your clit a few times, watching you squirm. Then, he guided it into you, effectively making you hiss in pain. The stretch was worse than his fingers, it felt like being split in two. Your eyes clamped shut for a second as tears began to slip from your glassy eyes, reaching out for him. He complied, lacing his fingers with yours and pressing your arms into the mattress. Tom didn't want to wait for you to adjust however, he was growing impatient within seconds. Maybe this could be punishment for all the times you ignored him before. But, he made the rash decision to push into you fully, bottoming out. In response you let out a cry, nearing a scream. Your body slightly thrashed, trying to get away from him.

"Stop that. You wanted this, remember?"

His voice was demanding now and it felt like a total tonal shift that would make your head spin. Tom grabs your cheeks in his hand and squeezes, making your lips pudge out. You clench around him and he groans. It was enough to make him start moving, and his pace wasn't slow either. It was rough and unforgiving. You weep from the pain, your legs shaking. Yet you couldn't vocalize the words to ask him to stop. Would he even if you asked? You hoped so. You really hoped so.

It took minutes of his deep thrusts for the pleasure to come to your body and the pain melt away. It came in a rush, a sudden flip of a switch in your body that had your head rolling back. Noticing you weren't crying from pain anymore, Tom picks up the pace with his thrusts, his hips smacking into yours. As your moans pick up again, he buries his face in your neck, softly kissing it. Soon you felt a twisting, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

"Tom.. I feel weird.."

He grins at that and you could feel it against your skin. He pulls away from your neck, looking down at you. His free hand presses against your stomach, feeling where his cock reached inside of you, while his other still held yours.

"It's okay. Just let it happen, love."

Tom continues his fast paced thrust, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Your body trembles as you cum, clenching hard around him. He fucks you through your high, but doesn't show any signs of stopping. You whine when his lips pull away from yours, your body feeling like a sauna. Sweat clung to your skin as your cunt pathetically wept around him. Tom drunk in your fucked out expression, feeling himself get closer.

He speeds up even more to bring himself to release. But that in turn overstimulates you, bringing your body close to having a second orgasm. Tom brings both his hands to grab your hips, making sure your body is firmly against the bed. That left your hands free and you opted to grab onto the duvet again.

"I'm going to cum inside you- Because you're mine from now on."

Tom says in between groans. And he meant it too. The both of you moan for each other, his names falling out of your lips like a spell. Your eyes roll back, focusing on his rough, fast, deep thrusts. The bed beneath you squeaked and you hoped that no one else could hear you. Like the rush of running water you came again, clenching around his cock like a vice. You cunt sucked and pulled him in. He felt drawn to it, like he couldn't live without it, or your adorable expressions. Studying the sight of your trembling body, he came right after you. Filling you up with his cum.

After you both calm down from your intense high, he pulls out of your swollen, messy cunt. Laying down beside you, he pulls you into his arms. He made a mental note to clean you, and his bed up after resting a little while. Tom kisses the side of your head, praising you for what a good job you did taking him. You never expected today would be the day that you had your first kiss, lost your virginity, and got a boyfriend. But you did, and honestly, you probably couldn't be more satisfied with your day as the potion wore off.

"I love you, so much, darling."

"I love you too, Tom."

Star's notes -> This is my first fic to ever reach 2k words. Anyways, as per the vote, here is the Tom Riddle aphrodisiac fic!

(Requests are open!)

Taglist -> No one :[ | Join the taglist

#☆strawb3rrystar writes #harry pottter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle smut #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #slytherin #slytherin x reader #slytherin imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut

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dark-and-kawaii · 2 months

Note

Just a thought came to mind! How do you feel about Haarlep, Rolan, and Zevlor covering you with hickies while holding you close & their tails are wrapped around your leg? I'm curious :3

Notes: My weakness, I can feel my legs giving up on me right this second just thinking about this!!! Tender moments like these/ possessive ones give me life!!!

₊˚⊹♡ Pairings: Rolan x Tav/Reader - Haarlep x Tav/Reader - Zevlor x Tav/Reader

₊˚⊹♡ Content: Comfort - Possessive - Longing - Lips On Skin

「 ✦ Zevlor ✦ 」

As you both sat next to the campfire, a soft glow dancing upon your bodies, Zevlor held you with a tenderness that spoke of years of loneliness. His touch devoted, worshipful, as if savoring a long lost treasure. Each kiss a prayer. The warmth of his hand, a soothing balm on a cold night.

With his fiery eyes, he watched you, drinking in every sigh, every moan, every quiver that trembled along your body, “it’s been too long…” he murmured, his voice a deep comforting rumble.

As his lips traced a path along your skin, leaving hickies that were both tender and possessive, his tail wrapped around your leg with a protective warmth. In his embrace, you felt cherished and safe, as if his years of solitude had found their answer in you. The world seemed a little brighter in the glow of his affection, and you knew that in Zevlor's arms, you had found a love that would last forever.

「 ✦ Haarlep ✦ 」

It was busy, always was in the marketplace of Baldurs Gate, where the air was thick with the scent of spices and the chatter of merchants… This is where Haarlep found his favorite kind of playground. Or rather, it would usually be the creature's favorite playground- finding an innocent soul to seduce, to break and feed off us until they were an empty husk. However, Haarlep only had eyes for you… And when he finally found you, a grin spread across his face as his arm reached from the dark alley and pulled you into seclusion, away from prying eyes.

His touch was warm, his skin like silk against your own, his voice almost hypnotic. It was almost hard for you to understand his words over the hammering of your heart.

Each kiss a promise of delightful mayhem as his lips trailed along your neck, leaving a constellation of hickies in their wake. His tail coiled around your leg, a playful yet possessive gesture, “You can’t hide from me little dove~.” a chill snaked down your spine, even as his body warmed yours. A finger gently ran up and down your arm, his nail scraping the soft skin ever so slightly.

In that moment, the world faded away, the market no longer loud, just a piercing silence leaving only the intoxicating presence of Haarlep and the thrilling unpredictability of his so called love.

「 ✦ Rolan ✦ 」

The library was quiet in the dead of night,the perfect place for Rolan to immerse himself in his studies. Yet tonight, the usually grumpy wizard found himself distracted by thoughts of you. With a resigned sigh, Rolan set his book aside and sought you out, his heart wishing to hear your soft voice, his body aching to feel you against him.

When he had found you, his usual gruff demeanor softened, and he pulled you into a quiet corner within the room- his body pinning you to the wall. Rolan’s kisses were surprisingly gentle, each hickey a mark of his reluctant yet undeniable affection. Each nip of his teeth, every swipe of his tongue, left you feeling as if you were about to burn up beneath him.

His tail, usually flicking in irritation now wrapped around your leg, holding you close as if fearing you’d disappear. His hands, so accustomed to holding a quill or staff, held your hips with an almost desperate grasp. Rolan felt his mind slowly become more clouded the more he felt you, his usual stoic nature giving way to an unexpected eagerness, “Don’t expect this often,” he grumbled… But you could tell from his actions that his words were far from the truth.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #baldurs gate #tav #zevlor #haarlep #zevlor bg3 #Rolan #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #haarlep bg3 #bg3 Haarlep #bg3 zevlor #rolan bg3 #zevlor x tav #rolan x tav #haarlep x tav

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hollowed-theory-hall · 6 months

Text

Why I don't think Harry actually likes Ginny

So, I don't like Hinny. I don't buy the relationship between them for multiple reasons. The first of which is that I believe Harry Potter is gay (or at least, not attracted to women).

The rest, I'm going to cover here. Some of the opinions I have are probably not very popular, but I'm saying what I see evidence for.

Disclaimer: No hate to anyone who does ship Hinny, or likes Ginny, I just don't see it.

He doesn't actually think about her until book 6... like, at all

The most important part of this section is actually what Hary doesn't say about Ginny and not what he does, so I don't have quotes. But I literally scoured the books to find scenes Harry described Ginny's appearance. I looked for words like: "pretty", "beautiful", "attractive", or anything else, really any detailed description that would show he is physically attracted to her. I came out with nothing.

He never calls her pretty or attractive in all seven books. And I mentioned in my post here, how Harry can and does describe attractiveness in people (men) he finds attractive.

The other thing he never mentions is what he likes about Ginny. Like, her personality.

He says he likes her, and he's jealous when she's with Dean in HBP (only halfway through the book, but that's for later in this post), but he never mentions what he likes about her. Ginny talks about why she likes Harry plenty, but Harry seems to have no clue why he's dating Ginny. He supposedly likes her, but doesn't name in his head a single thing he likes about her as a person. The things he does think he likes about her are:

She is comfortable to be around, the same way Ron and Hermoine are.

She doesn't weep like Cho.

She's good at Quidditch.

So that's a brilliant basis for a relationship right there. (sarcasm)

“Harry, I’m talking to you, can you hear me?” “Huh?” He looked around. Ginny Weasley, looking very windswept, had joined him at the library table where he had been sitting alone. It was late on Sunday evening; Hermione had gone back to Gryffindor Tower to review Ancient Runes; Ron had Quidditch practice.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 655)

Ginny approaches him, but nothing, no response, no care. He didn't even notice she was there. Takes him, like, three minutes to recall she's on the Quidditch team and should be at practice with Ron. And when she does talk to him, he actually doesn't explain the full truth. He never actually tells her the full scope of his problems and feelings.

“Hi,” said Ginny uncertainly. “We recognized Harry’s voice — what are you yelling about?” “Never you mind,” said Harry roughly. Ginny raised her eyebrows. “There’s no need to take that tone with me,” she said coolly. “I was only wondering whether I could help.” “Well, you can’t,” said Harry shortly. “You’re being rather rude, you know,” said Luna serenely. Harry swore and turned away. The very last thing he wanted now was a conversation with Luna Lovegood.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 735)

Later in the same book, Harry is downright rude to Ginny, and he's sure Sirius is being tortured at the moment, so I get it. But, also, the fact he reacts more to Luna telling him he's rude than to Ginny... like, that's telling on which of the two girls' opinions Harry cares more. And it's not Ginny. After Luna calls him out, he actually stops snapping at them. With Ginny, he just continued being snappy and rude to her.

“Michael — but —” said Ron, craning around in his seat to stare at her. “But you were going out with him!” “Not anymore,” said Ginny resolutely. “He didn’t like Gryffindor beating Ravenclaw at Quidditch and got really sulky, so I ditched him and he ran off to comfort Cho instead.” She scratched her nose absently with the end of her quill, turned The Quibbler upside down, and began marking her answers. Ron looked highly delighted. “Well, I always thought he was a bit of an idiot,” he said, prodding his queen forward toward Harry’s quivering castle. “Good for you. Just choose someone — better — next time.” He cast Harry an oddly furtive look as he said it. “Well, I’ve chosen Dean Thomas, would you say he’s better?” asked Ginny vaguely. “WHAT?” shouted Ron, upending the chessboard. Crookshanks went plunging after the pieces and Hedwig and Pigwidgeon twittered and hooted angrily from overhead. As the train slowed down in the approach to King’s Cross, Harry thought he had never wanted to leave it less. He even wondered fleetingly what would happen if he simply refused to get off, but remained stubbornly sitting there until the first of September, when it would take him back to Hogwarts.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 866)

Some like to say Hinny didn't come out of nowhere, but it did. It's clear that at the end of book 5 Harry doesn't give a shit who Ginny is dating. He's thinking about Sirius, he's mourning, of course, but he is still mourning him in book 6 and it didn't stop his jealous rage towards Dean then.

The fact is, up until like halfway through book 6 there are no signs he is interested in Ginny romanticly.

“Fancy trying to find a compartment?” “I can’t, Harry, I said I’d meet Dean,” said Ginny brightly. “See you later.” “Right,” said Harry. He felt a strange twinge of annoyance as she walked away, her long red hair dancing behind her; he had become so used to her presence over the summer that he had almost forgotten that Ginny did not hang around with him, Ron, and Hermione while at school. Then he blinked and looked around: He was surrounded by mesmerized girls.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 136)

Two notes here.

Firstly, this is at the beginning of HBP, still no signs from Harry of jealousy. He likes Ginny as a friend and gets used to her presence. That is literally what their relationship is built on. Him being used to her presence. Still, he doesn't care in the slightest who she is dating.

Secondly, what follows this scene is Harry running away from all his adoring fangirls with the help of Neville. Because Harry is not attracted to women and is not interested in any of their attention.

Harry told Ron and Hermione, pulling open the parchment and quickly reading its contents [note from Dumbledore]. “Monday evening!” He felt suddenly light and happy. “Want to join us in Hogsmeade, Ginny?” he asked. “I’m going with Dean — might see you there,” she replied, waving at them as she left.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 242)

Again, no jealousy. His entire problem with Dean and Ginny dating started really late into book 6 and there was basically no buildup.

Dean was looking embarrassed. He gave Harry a shifty grin that Harry did not return, as the newborn monster inside him was roaring for Dean’s instant dismissal from the team.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 287)

Now, I wanna talk a little bit about Harry's jealousy towards Dean and how he describes his emotions about Ginny. Ginny is the only character he describes his emotions about in this way. And it's... well, weird to say the least. Definitely off. The first time I read it I had to reread it to make sure I actually read it correctly.

Like, the only times he thinks about his emotions towards Ginny, are in jealousy. He doesn't like when other guys date her, but he never really thinks that he likes her, or what he likes about her. Or anything at all, positive or negative.

And, back to the description being odd, well, I'll get to it later in this post about why I think Harry convinced himself he likes Ginny and why his emotions about her are described the way they are.

Harry looked around; there was Ginny running toward him; she had a hard, blazing look in her face as she threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that fifty people were watching, Harry kissed her.

...

The creature in his chest roaring in triumph, he grinned down at Ginny and gestured wordlessly out of the portrait hole. A long walk in the grounds seemed indicated, during which — if they had time — they might discuss the match.

(Half-Blood Prince, pages 533-534)

I want to talk about Harry's feelings regarding Ginny and kissing her, or, well, lack of their off. You know, after a first kiss, with a girl he supposedly likes, I expected something more emotional, more involved. I expect him to actually care.

But no. He doesn't describe the kiss at all actually, or his feelings. There are no butterflies in his stomach, no head spinning, nothing. Just his chest monster feeling triumphant.

This is insane, this is not the reaction to kissing someone you like. Or even feel mildly attracted to. Where are the nerves and excitement? They aren't there.

He had more emotions about his first kiss with Cho. They weren't positive emotions, but these were emotions.

The second thing about their first kiss is how the text pretty clearly insinuates they made out throughout their whole walk. This actually reminds me a lot of Ron and Lavender in book 6:

“Well, think back,” said Harry. “Have you ever let it slip that you’d like to go out in public with the words ‘My Sweetheart’ round your neck?” “Well . . . we don’t really talk much,” said Ron. “It’s mainly . . .” “Snogging,” said Harry. “Well, yeah,” said Ron.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 338)

They don't really have much of a relationship. They make out, but they don't talk, they don't share anything with each other, they don't really like each other — they barely know each other.

Harry and Ginny are much the same. Ginny is in love with the idea of Harry Potter, and Harry for some reason decideded he likes Ginny even though he can't name a single personality trait she possesses.

“And then what does she think’s going to happen?” Harry muttered. “Someone else might kill off Voldemort while she’s holding us here making vol-auvents?” He had spoken without thinking, and saw Ginny’s face whiten. “So it’s true?” She said, “That’s what you’re trying to do?” “I—not—I was joking,” said Harry evasively. They stared at each other, and there was something more than shock in Ginny’s expression. Suddenly Harry became aware that this was the first time that he had been alone with her since their stolen hours in secluded corners of the Hogwarts grounds. He was sure she was remembering them too. Both of them jumped as the door opened, and Mr. Weasley, Kingsley, and Bill walked in.

(Deathly Hollows, page 82)

Like, there is quite a bit I want to unpack here.

Firstly, Harry didn't bother telling Ginny that he, Ron, and Hermione were planning on leaving. That they are going to go and stop Voldemort. Well, he didn't tell her about the Horcruxes, or any of his experiences, really. I don't think she knows he cast a Crocio at Bellatrix at the end of fifth year.

Like, Harry does not share his life with Ginny. At all. Her reaction is quite telling.

But also, even after he broke up with her already at the end of HBP. Still, Ginny is constantly trying to drag him back to be with her. She isn't letting Harry break up with her. And, that just really doesn't sit well with me. Harry didn't even consider it until he saw how Ginny was eying him, she's the one who thought they should make out. Harry was trying to stay broken up with her.

Ginny looked up into Harry’s face, took a deep breath, and said, “Happy seventeenth.” “Yeah. . . thanks.” She was looking at him steadily; he, however, found it difficult to look back at her; it was like gazing into a brilliant light.

...

He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful; that was one of the many wonderful things about Ginny, she was rarely weepy. He had sometimes thought that having six brothers must have toughened her up.

(Deathly Hollows, page 103)

Again, after Harry breaks up with her, she tries to drag him back. He doesn't want to look at her. And as romantic as "gazing into a brilliant light" sounds, usually doing that hurts your eyes and is really not something you want to do. Besides, when you really like someone, you want to look at them, you want to stare at their stupid face for as long as they let you.

Harry clearly doesn't.

The other thing to note about this passage is the wonderful thing Harry can name about Ginny, is that she never cries. Yes, amazing reason to date someone, Harry.

However, Ron did not appear on the map, and after a while Harry found himself taking it out simply to stare at Ginny’s name in the girls’ dormitory, wondering whether the intensity with which he gazed at it might break into her sleep, that she would somehow know he was thinking about her, hoping that she was all right.

(Deathly Hollows, page 270)

Even when pulling out the Marauder’s Map to watch her dot Harry's thoughts are just to make sure she's alright, the same reason he watches out for Ron on the map after he leaves them. Hoping to see he's alright. Harry would do it to any friend he felt strongly about, it's not just Ginny. She doesn't get special treatment in his mind.

Ginny Clearly likes him though, quite obsessively so, even as they grow older...

Ginny made it no secret she liked Harry in her first year with the Valentine's Day poem. The thing is, she never really stopped liking him, she didn't move on from that childhood crush. Quite the opposite actually.

“I never really gave up on you,” she said. “Not really. I always hoped. . . . Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more — myself.” “Smart girl, that Hermione,” said Harry, trying to smile. “I just wish I’d asked you sooner. We could’ve had ages . . . months . . . years maybe. . . .” “But you’ve been too busy saving the Wizarding world,” said Ginny, half laughing. “Well . . . I can’t say I’m surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn’t be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 647)

Ginny says at the top of this quote something I already talked about, but I'll say it again. She never gave up on Harry, she thinks them ending up together is fate. And she dated other guys throughout her fourth and fifth year to get Harry to notice her.

That is so gross, I don't even know where to start. I mean, she used a bunch of random guys, who all liked her, only to get Harry. She didn't care about their feelings, or these guys as real human beings, just that they could help her get Harry. And that is awful and one of the reasons I dislike Ginny.

The second part I bolded is Ginny explaining again, that she knew she and Harry were fated — this isn't romantic, this is terrifying and paints all her previous relationships in a really bad light.

She also mentions there she likes Harry, and that she likes that he's this saviour who needs to hunt down Voldemort. Now, first, she is clearly in love with the idea of the Boy-Who-Lived, and not Harry himself, because what she likes about him is his nobility and savior complex. Not just here, but in general.

While Harry definitely is heroic, he is also cunning, and clever, has some serious anger management issues, and isn't as noble as Ginny likes to paint him as. I feel like, here, when she says what she likes about him, she doesn't really know him. Harry doesn't want to hunt down Voldemort, he feels it's his responsibility. He would've been happy to be able to live his life without them being threatened constantly.

His 'saving people thing' is because he considers endangering himself less bad than endangering someone else. That's his low self-esteem talking, not his thirst for adventure. That and his (honestly correct) conclusion that he can't count on the adults or other people to do what needs to be done. Also, his sense of responsibility due to the prophecy, which he didn't really tell Ginny about in full. the prophecy and Dumbledore made him feel Voldemort is his problem to solve. It's not that he's happy about it. Ginny is in love with an ideal, not with the actual Harry Potter.

(I'll get to Harry's words here later)

Ginny caught Harry’s eye and looked away quickly, grinning.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 848)

And when going back to Harry's fifth year, even then (while she technically has a boyfriend) she is trying to get Harry's attention and is flirting with him. Not that Harry notices it's flirting because he doesn't think of Ginny in that way.

But Ron held up a hand to silence her. “She was really cut up when you ended it—” “So was I. You know why I stopped it, and it wasn’t because I wanted to.” “Yeah, but you go snogging her now and she’s just going to get her hopes up again—” “She’s not an idiot, she knows it can’t happen, she’s not expecting us to—to end up married, or—”

(Deathly Hollows, page 104)

I mentioned it above, but Ginny is the one who dragged Harry to make out with her, it wasn't Harry who initiated it. She does this after Harry broke up with her, which... well... yeah. I mean, at least Harry was willing, right?

And Harry says she isn't thinking about marriage, but Ginny definitely is. Remember, she thinks they are fated to end up together.

Now, as to why Harry is dating her and thinks he likes her...

I think she might have used a love potion...

Now, I know, I know, honestly, this is a theory I doubted for a long time. I mean, there's no way.

But I'm rereading the books right now, and ehh... I think whoever came up with this might have been onto something. It's kind of creepy actually.

Mrs. Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she’d made as a young girl. All three of them were rather giggly.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 70)

Love potions are a thing in the Wizarding World. They are legal to sell and use with no consequences. They are banned at Hogwarts, but we saw it doesn't mean much considering Romilda Vane snuck quite a bit in...

What I show in the above quote is how witches like Molly Weasly see love potions as a legitimate thing to giggle about. As if it isn't a horrifying rape drug that takes away someone's autonomy! Love potions aren't something to giggle about. And they're definitely not something to giggle about with two young girls...

But this is to explain, how to Ginny, who thinks she and Harry are meant to end up together, using a love potion would seem completely legitimate. It's a little, funny nudge, but it's not bad. Her mother used it, and so many other girls did too. Because it isn't treated as the horrifying thing it is. She grew up thinking of it as a legitimate measure to take if a boy you like doesn't notice you. A measure that she wouldn't be even punished for if it was found out.

Now, this is a long quote, but this is the one that made me even consider this theory as a possibility:

She hoisted a box wrapped in brown paper onto the table; it had clearly been unwrapped and carelessly rewrapped, and there was a scribbled note across it in red ink, reading inspected and passed by the hogwarts high inquisitor. “It’s Easter eggs from Mum,” said Ginny. “There’s one for you. . . . There you go. . . .” She handed him a handsome chocolate egg decorated with small, iced Snitches and, according to the packaging, containing a bag of Fizzing Whizbees. Harry looked at it for a moment, then, to his horror, felt a hard lump rise in his throat. “Are you okay, Harry?” asked Ginny quietly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” said Harry gruffly. The lump in his throat was painful. He did not understand why an Easter egg should have made him feel like this. “You seem really down lately,” Ginny persisted. “You know, I’m sure if you just talked to Cho . . .” “It’s not Cho I want to talk to,” said Harry brusquely. “Who is it, then?” asked Ginny. “I . . .” He glanced around to make quite sure that nobody was listening; Madam Pince was several shelves away, stamping out a pile of books for a frantic-looking Hannah Abbott. “I wish I could talk to Sirius,” he muttered. “But I know I can’t.” More to give himself something to do than because he really wanted any, Harry unwrapped his Easter egg, broke off a large bit, and put it into his mouth. “Well,” said Ginny slowly, helping herself to a bit of egg too, “if you really want to talk to Sirius, I expect we could think of a way to do it. . . .” “Come on,” said Harry hopelessly. “With Umbridge policing the fires and reading all our mail?” “The thing about growing up with Fred and George,” said Ginny thoughtfully, “is that you sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve.” Harry looked at her. Perhaps it was the effect of the chocolate — Lupin had always advised eating some after encounters with dementors — or simply because he had finally spoken aloud the wish that had been burning inside him for a week, but he felt a bit more hopeful. . . .

(Order of the Pheonix, page 655)

Now, Harry, first, gets really weird about the Easter Egg. Why an Easter Egg would cause a lump in his throat, I have no idea. Maybe it smelled weird?

He didn't really want to eat the chocolate, he felt bad about it, which is again, very strange phrasing. especially as I think Harry's instincts are pretty decent, especially when it comes to potential danger. Ginny isn't mentioned eating from his chocolate, she's implied to be eating a different chocolate egg.

But the final section I bolded is the one I really want to talk about.

Harry didn't even notice Ginny approach him. Throughout this scene, he doesn't describe anything about her or his emotions for her. Then, he looks at her and feels more hopeful in a way he hasn't before, and he blames it on the chocolate. That's so incredibly strange.

So I read that, then read it again, and started thinking a love potion might be a possibility.

It'll explain why Harry thinks he likes Ginny and wants to make out with her, without once mentioning he finds her attractive, or that he even likes her personality. It'll also explain the weird way Harry describes his emotions for Ginny, his chest monster, that is. I mean, I believe Harry is gay, what do you think happens when you give a guy who literally can't find you attractive a love potion so he'd like you? He reacts weirdly. His like of you is off and unnatural and disconnected because he isn't affecting him the way it should.

Even when Ron was dosed with the love potion he could name things the potion made him like about Romilda:

“I love her,” repeated Ron breathlessly. “Have you seen her hair, it’s all black and shiny and silky . . . and her eyes? Her big dark eyes? And her —”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 392)

It's not like Ron could say what he liked about Romilda's personality though, he just knew he needed to be with her and she was perfect. This is frighteningly similar to how Harry thinks of Ginny.

Harry watches for Ginny on the map while traveling in Deathly Hollows. He's constantly drawn to her, but he doesn't have any actual feelings towards her. He wants to marry her but has no clue what her personality is like. He just thinks Ginny is great without knowing why.

Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically. Hermione and Ginny both hung back, looking wary. “There you go,” said Fred proudly. “Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere.” Ginny raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Do they work?” she asked. “Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question —”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 120)

Now, after the above scene in book 5 which I believe is the first time Ginny tries to dose Harry with a love potion, Harry still isn't dating Ginny, as we all know. What do we see Ginny do early in book 6, the book in which they get together? Try to buy a love potion from Fred and George.

And more importantly, she asks them: "Do they work?"

Why would Ginny ask that if she hadn't already failed with a love potion before?

I think, Harry's not being attracted to women, does affect how love potions effect him and the dosages he will need to be fed. And Ginny clearly isn't giving up on Harry. She said so herself — they were fated.

“Hang on,” said a voice close by Harry’s left ear and he caught a sudden waft of that flowery smell he had picked up in Slughorn’s dungeon. He looked around and saw that Ginny had joined them. “Did I hear right? You’ve been taking orders from something someone wrote in a book, Harry?”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 192)

One of the only things Harry comments about in regarding Ginny is her smell. He only mentions it from year 6 and onwards.

Now, I know JKR intended it to imply Harry smelled Ginny in amortentia and that he's in love with her. The thing is, it could just as easily be read as a smell he associates with Ginny and the Burrow because she dosed him with a love potion already. So he is used to smelling amortentia around Ginny and the Burrow, not because he's in love with her, but because the potion is there.

“There’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for,” she whispered, and then she was kissing him as she had never kissed him before, and Harry was kissing her back, and it was blissful oblivion better than firewhisky; she was the only real thing in the world, Ginny, the feel of her, one hand at her back and one in her long, sweet-smelling hair—

(Deathly Hollows, page 103)

When she kisses him after he broke up with her and she's trying to get him back, he mentions the smell of her hair again. How the smell is actually affecting him.

With all the evidence towards Harry not liking women, and the fact he doesn't even find Ginny attractive, I just have a hard time believing this. How can he go from coldly not caring about her in one scene to going into blissful oblivion from the smell of her hair?

Unless there is some variant of a love potion he is getting dosed with.

(I don't think this is a very popular opinion, but there is just so much that's weird about Hinny, that I can't find any other way to explain it in canon)

#harry potter #harry potter thoughts #harry potter theory #hollowedtheory #hp #hp thoughts #harry james potter #anti ginny weasley #anti hinny #ginny weasley critical #ginny weasley #hp meta #harry potter meta #ship talk

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daughterofyore · 1 year

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{{Drabble}} George and his anxiety.

wc;; 661

summary;; George has anxiety about an upcoming speech and you calm him down.

contents;; fluff, sweet nothings, loving caresses, stressed George and signs of mania.

a/n;; although I do write smut mainly I wanted to start filling up my repertoire of work. So, I decided to add in a very small lil drabble for ‘just George’. :)

!!W!!;; none really, signs of his mania? (Shaking hand) and anxiety.

George, sweet loveable George. He sat in the upholstered leather chair at the large mahogany desk in his study, his thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t raise his eyes to meet yours, he didn’t even glance up as you walked into the study. Your dress hissed along the ground, it’s brilliant floral design cascading down the sides, bedecked with jewels and your hair in a very fashionable up-do. A very classic Georgian era outfit.

You approached his desk, placing a gentle hand on his back between his shoulder blades. “What troubles you dearest?” You question him softly, beginning to rub small circles on his back. He looked up at you, brows scrunched together and eyes glassy. Had he been crying?

“I am… frustrated my dear.” He slapped a hand on top of papers, a quill lay discarded to the right. Ink leaked along the table, threatening to spill off the edge and onto the expensive carpets below. “I have to ready a speech for government. Make my presence known and make sure they remember me.” He scoffed incredulously, shaking his head as if it was hard to believe. “Yet, my nerves will not settle. I am beginning to panic and-“ you noticed his hand began to shake, the tell tale sign of an episode threatening to take hold of him. You squatted down at his side, gently placing a hand on his knee, demanding his unwavering attention.

“My love, I will help you be the best you can be. I know you will do excellently for there is nothing you can’t do.” A small smile tugs at your lips and his quiver in response, fighting back a wave of emotions. “You will be amazing, an excellent king and a wonderful speaker. You need not worry about how they perceive you. You are George, King of the United Kingdom’s.” You stood, taking his face in your hands. Cupping his cheeks and whispering, “And you are my husband.” His shoulders slumped and he stood, now towering over you. He held your gaze, smiling.

“My beautiful wife.” He brushed his fingers along your cheek, they no longer shook. “What would I ever do without you?” His voice broke a bit, but he held firm in not allowing tears to fall. You reached up and squeezed his hand.

“I’m sure you would be fine, I am merely a help.” He shook his head, making a disgusted face.

“You are absolutely not! Yes, you may help me but you are so much more. You are my wife, my love, the mother of my children you-“ He sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to be flush with his front. “You are everything and more. Venus could not compare to your divinity.” You hid your face in his chest, trying to conceal the blush creeping along your face.

“Come darling, let’s go and get some tea to settle ourselves.” You spoke into his chest and he chuckled at your shyness, tenderly grasping your shoulders and pushing you back so that he may see you.

“I love it when you blush. You look so cute.” He smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead and taking your hand in his. He began to walk towards the parlour. He told Reynolds to bring you tea and confectioneries, once he had vanished down the hall and around a corner George spun to you and scooped you into his arms. He began to rush down the hall, eliciting screams and giggles of joy from you.

He pushed the door open with his foot and lay back on a chaise longue, placing you on top of him. He began to trace lazy circles over your stomach once you were both settled. His other hand playing with your fingers. Before the servants knocked on the door with the tea he whispered into your ear, his breath hot and titillating.

“I love you, my beautiful wife.”

#bridgerton #bridgerton series #bridgerton smut #bridgerton spoilers #king george bridgerton #king george iii #king george x f!reader #king george x reader #queen charlotte #bridgerton fanfiction #king George drabble #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton fic #bridgerton men #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton family

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theworldofotps · 4 months

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Painting (Drabble)

Pairing: Lord Debling x Reader Word Count: 743 Description: Y/n is struggling with a painting when she recieves some much needed help.

So, I have never written fanfiction for Bridgerton before but after watching the first half of season 3 and meeting Lord Debling I couldn't help myself. I'm also very nervous to post this because it's a bit out of my comfort zone but I hope you enjoy anyway.

Dedicated to: @madhatterbri who encouraged me to write this, helped form the plot and is overall one of the best. I appreciate you so much thank you! (I haven't added my normal tag list since those are usually just for wrestling. If you'd like to be added to a tag list of anything I write besides wrestling let me know!) __________ Y/n let out a soft huff as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, staring at the canvas in front of her. She’d spent the last two hours trying to paint a bird from the book set on a stool in front of her. This was a painting she just didn’t want to mess up on but the more she stared at it the worse it seemed to look.

“Is everything alright m’lady?”

“Yes Ruth, just having a bit of difficulty getting these colors to work and blend the way that I wish them too.”

“Please let me know when you are ready, and I shall draw the bath for you.”

“Thank you, Ruth.”

Watching the maid leave, Y/n turns back towards her painting and examines the book once more. Adjusting the apron she wore over her dress to keep from ruining it, she dipped into her paints again. More time passed and her frustrations only grew as the colors started running and made the bird look like a mess.

Dropping the paintbrush in the pot of water she hung her head in defeat, deciding to just start all over again. Not having heard the door open she nearly jumped, feeling a pair of arms wrapping around her before a chuckle sounded in her ear.

“Sorry to startle you love I thought you heard me enter.”

“That’s alright my lord I just was focusing on something else.”

Alfred glanced around to be sure they were alone before pressing a soft kiss to her neck.

“Tell me what’s the matter.”

“I’m trying to paint this bird and all of my colors keep running I’ve spent hours on it but alas to no avail.”

Remaining silently as his eyes drifted over the canvas in front of them, since they had began courting he was trying to take interest in her hobbies. When he found out she had a love for painting much like his mother, it was one he quickly did his best to learn all he could about it.

“Allow me to offer my assistance to you.”

Grabbing her hand gently together they picked up the brush, the sparks of electricity she felt as they moved together dipping into her paint pallet. She could barely concentrate at the feel of him pressed against her back. When the brush touched the canvas, she let out a soft laugh.

“What is it brining you such joy my dear?”

“Your beard tickles my cheek.”

Y/n spoke softly as his own smile grew to match hers the two talking in soft whispers as he helped her fix the once ruined picture.

“What do you think?”

“It looks so much better thank you for your help now we both must sign it.”

She said pointing to the feather quill and pot of ink sat on the desk a few feet away from them, Alfred reached over grabbing the quill. Signing the name Debling then placing the quill in her hand so she could sign her last name.

Placing it back in the ink pot Y/n slowly turned to face him their eyes meeting hers lighting up as his softened.

“Miss. Y/n I know this may come forth as a bit forward but may I kiss you?”

He asked a slight nervous quiver to his voice if you listened close enough she remained silently causing him to clear in throat. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel pressured into anything. After a moment her smile grew as she leaned closer to him their lips brushing in the softest touch before a knock on the door sent them apart. Composing themselves she turned to see Ruth entering one more.

“Excuse me miss but your mother is looking for you.”

“Thank you, Ruth please tell her, that I will be right there.”

Ruth nodded, leaving them alone again y/n sighing softly she turned back to Alfred who gently touched her cheek.

“I must be going as it is rather late, I shall call upon you tomorrow afternoon would that be alright?”

“Yes, I would enjoy that very much my lord.”

The pair left the room and y/n saw him to the front entrance, his fingers once more touching her cheek in a bid farewell. Watching him leave she sighed her arms wrapping around herself, the thought of his arms around her caused her face to heat up. Turning, she went off in search of her mother.

#lord debling #bridgerton fanfiction #lord debling x reader #bridgerton #lord debling fanfiction

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smallpwbbles · 12 days

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Deserts and delirium

Ay back at it again with another Biolizard Shadow au fic, this one’s a bit more fun (it’s not fun for anyone in the fic tho I’ll tell you that)

————————————————————————

The desert sun was absolutely blazing as Rouge sat on an aged and broken pillar. She rubbed at her face, not even trying to avoid smearing her make up as the sweat she was currently producing was doing a fine job of that already. Her mouth was absolutely parched, she was edging towards cursing out the burning sun as the rays of golden sunshine invited themselves to burn at her skin.

The sands underneath her were practically boiling with heat so she sat on the uncomfortable pillar while she restored enough energy to being flying once again, her wings ached as she turned to watch the source of her present misery. Her large lizard hedgehog companion was currently rolling around the sands, bumping into some pillars and structures as he did. He looked quite enthralled, no doubt enjoying the warmth due to his cold-blooded body. It was extremely out of character for Shadow to be looking and doing as he did but Rouge knew the reason for this.

It hadn’t been too long ago, after the unsuccessful completion of a mission where GUN sent Rouge and her team to check out an old base of Eggman’s in the abandoned metropolis city for possible intel on his current whereabouts. She was about to complain about the lack of anything with good Information when her giant companion suddenly fell to the ground with an earth shaking thud. Shadow had unfortunately fallen on Omega in the process, luckily he was unharmed, he was quite the durable robot.

Shadow however was quite flush, the monstrous hedgehog was usually warm with the chaos energy pulsing in his veins but the heat she felt on his forehead as he lay quivering on the ground put a spike of worry in her heart. Rouge could have reported this to GUN but their treatment of Shadow was questionable at best and downright unpleasant at worst. With that fact she made some calls to Sonic, it was the best way to get in contact with Tails as he was the only person she could think of to help at that moment.

It hadn’t taken long for Sonic to come with Tails in tow, in that time she had managed to pull Omega out from underneath Shadows back, she reconfirmed the Robot was undamaged except for some scratches caused by Shadows bristled quills. The robot didn’t seem bothered by it though and claimed he would “honour the battle scars” Shadow just gave him.

It took even less time for Tails to deduce it was just a fever, however that didn’t sit right with any of them there. Rouge knew for a fact Shadow possessed absurdly strong healing, it didn’t seem right for him to have a fever. She had wanted to ask the gigantic hedgehog about it but he was out of commission and couldn’t answer her back. The group brainstormed for what action they should take and Rouge concluded she would obtain some of Shadows files for Information, she knew they had been taken by GUN in their effort to control him.

There would be no problem to get the files, she knew every sector and section of GUN headquarters, sometimes she broke in there for the thrill of it. Rouge was just a bit worried as it meant leaving Shadow but Sonic and Tails had assured her they would keep watch of the sickly hedgehog, Omega announced he would stay in case Shadow got “difficult”, whatever that meant.

As she had thought when she had retrieved the files with absolute ease, she was crawling through some dusty and slightly claustrophobic vents when her wrist watch began to ping, a handy device given to her by GUN for communication between them and her teammates, Omega was already installed with a device that allowed him to accept the call frequency however Shadow needed to be fitted with a tiny earpiece that allowed him to hear his teammates voices when they called.

“Rouge?, Rouge?!” Tails' voice cut through clearly using the frequency she recognised as Omegas. She didn’t like being called during her solo missions but the panic in Tails' voice had her immediate attention.

“Tails? I’ve got the file, why are you calling me?” she whispered harshly into the watch. There weren't any cameras in the current vent she was squeezing herself through, but you could never be too careful.

There was a roar that interrupted the response Tails was about to give, it sounded like Shadow and she could swear she could hear Sonic's nervous voice yelling something like “chillax Shads!”

“What’s going on?” Rouge questioned, she left them alone for an hour or two, were they seriously fighting or something?

Tails answered her thought “it’s Shadow! He woke up and I think he’s reached a worse state of delirium or something, he doesn’t recognise us at all and-“ he was cut off as it sounded like something huge slammed into the ground. She heard Sonic again but much clearer “woah you almost got squished there buddy! Rouge could you tell Shads to stop trying to kill us cuz he isn’t listening to Omega”.

She hated being leader sometimes, as much as she loved them, there was always something to deal with concerning her two teammates. “Can you survive for like 20 more minutes? I’ve got the files and I'm on my way hun” she assured.

She got there fast to the sight of Shadow confined in some rubble, he looked lethargic and the three who were left to deal with him didn’t look better. Omega proudly announced his victory in containing Shadow “non lethally” which Rouge had to be fair to him, the robot wasn’t known for being nice during battle.

Tails had studied the files and found exactly what they were looking for, it seemed what Shadow was suffering was in effect due to his rings readjusting to his chaos energy levels. The rings themselves were what put a stagnation to Shadows powers as the files revealed without them his chaos energy would overflow and destroy him and others. In addition they put a stop to his growth rate when he sporadically began enlarging during his time on the ARK. Rouge had no idea, she had assumed the monstrous hedgehog was made that size on purpose.

Similar to how the human body treats an illness as it invades the body, something similar was happening to Shadow, which caused his feverish state. The solution,Tails had found, was a suppressant of sorts. They had been administered to Shadow to keep him calm as his rings did their job. Tails stated recreating the suppressant wouldn’t take long. Rouge thanked the chaos gods in the sky for the young foxes' intelligent brain as she was in dire need of good news instead of any more that could add to the onslaught of problems that day had.

The problems struck right back however when right after Tails administered the syringe of suppressant to a vein in Shadows neck. Rouge assumed the intrusion may have spooked Shadow as he unexpectedly sat up from the rubble that held him. Tails was brought up with the motion but quickly booted himself and twirled his large twin tails to fly and move away from the feverish Shadow.

Shadow grabbed at his neck and began to look around panickedly. Before Rouge can say or do anything she watched him light up with a twist of uncontrolled chaos energy. Omega braced in front of her as the gigantic hedgehog disappeared with a crack of chaos control, the wind made by the teleportation jostled the robot but he stood his ground to protect the bat, Sonic and Tails were unlucky as the energy sent them flying a few feet away.

There was panic for the next hour as they had no idea where Shadow had ended up, in said panic Rouge had forgotten he was actually fitted with a tracker by GUN she had access to. Shadow didn’t actually know about it and she couldn’t deny how intrusive it was to the lizard hedgehog's privacy but it came in real handy when she finally remembered it was there.

Tails wasted no time applying Shadows coordinates to the miles electric, it had located the monstrous hedgehog in the Arid sands. It was a desert Rouge found Shadow in a lot, he’d sun bathe and soak up the sun, no doubt due to his lizard qualities. She’d hope he was there in that moment doing the same as he always did and not anything troubling.

That led to now, where she was currently watching the hedgehog, it seemed the suppressant was in full swing but had come with a side effect as the hedgehog was currently extremely loopy. Rouge kept her distance when she initially found him as she didn’t want to ignite a reaction like the one he had back at Metroplis. Rouge was also on her own as she tasked Omega with grabbing some water, she had no idea how long the large hedgehog would be loopy for but if she went a second longer without water she was gonna scream.

Honestly, as she watched Shadow roll around in the baking sand, she was bewildered by the genuine ease on his face. The hedgehog was clearly still sickly however his apparent joy betrayed any notion he was ill. It was also just weird to see Shadow with such a huge smile on his face, his fangs poking out his mouth as he continued his rolls into the sand.

Occasionally he turned over lazily to look at Rouge before returning to rolling in the sand. It unnerved rouge the first time he did so and she braced herself in case he went to attack like he had with Sonic, Tails and Omega. Instead he stared at Rouge for a moment, squinted his huge red eyes and returned back to his rolling.

Rouge was confused about it but she didn’t want to try and theorise what his loopy actions meant, she recalled dealing with a delirious Knuckles a couple weeks back when she picked him up from a dentist appointment, the incoherent red echidna was hilarious to watch as he’d forgotten who she was but told her “she was the prettiest angel he’d ever seen”. Rouge could have teased him about it for days on end but she held that one to herself.

This situation felt similar but she was much more wary as she didn’t want an incoherent Shadow to accidentally hurt her. The large hedgehog was usually very gentle but right now he paid no attention to his surroundings as he rolled onto some pillars. She had no idea how that wasn’t hurting his back but she didn’t want that to be her under there. Rouge had sent Sonic and Tails off as Shadow did quite a number on them earlier , she assured them she’d be fine but with Omega on his task she was on her own and needed to be careful.

Shadow rolled onto his front, he was practically caked in sand, she watched as he rose on all fours. He began to aggressively shake the sand out of his quills and scales akin to how a dog would shake off any uninvited messes on its body. Rouge had no way to escape the rain shower Shadow provided, she felt sand land on every strand of fur and skin. The bat took in deep breaths as the Hedgehog finished, she knew he wasn’t himself, it didn’t stop her from wanting to throttle him at that moment.

Suddenly Rouge heard the familiar sound of jet boosters, she held her hand over her eyes to block the sunlight as she turned up towards the sound praying for it to be who she thought it was. Omega dropped slowly into her vision, she spied a couple bottles of water in his mechanical claws and felt she could jump for joy.

He landed nonchalantly in front of the broken pillar she was sitting on, his beady red optics glazed her over “you are covered in sand” he distinguished. It made her eyes fall flat.

“Yeah the sand covered look is totally in season” the bat sarcastically teased “thanks for grabbing that water, I thought it was about to be cooked for a minute”.

“Being cooked in desert heat is a pathetic way to go out, I would not have allowed for such a pitiful death for you” Omega attested. The robot had a weird way of being thoughtful, or maybe Rouge was just getting used to how Omega presented his affection.

The water held in the robot's hand was looking more appealing by the second as Rouge jumped down to join Omega in the sands below, she was over the presence of the sand as it had made itself known to every part of her body, she even felt it in her body suit somehow. Hurriedly grabbing a bottle from the claw possessing them, Rouge rushed to open the plastic cap and brought the bottle to her dry lips. It was only after a few gulps she’d taken notice of Shadows snout directly behind Omega.

The bat had no idea how Shadow snuck up on them without making a sound, the guy was 35 feet tall and even when loopy he could somehow make himself as quiet as a mouse when he wanted, Rouge jumped back at the realisation of his scarily close presence, Omega however stood where he was, he mechanically rotated his head to face behind him without turning his actual body. Shadow eyes searched the robot about, Rouge was sure his incoherent mind couldn’t remember Omega either. She had no idea what could happen next as she began to sweat anew in anxiety. The humongous hog and the robot were at a stalemate

Shadow fixed that anxiety by roughly dropping himself back into the sand where Omega lay, Rouge was forced to endure another storm of sand that got kicked up right into her direction, when it was over and Rouge wiped the tricky sand from her vision she saw Shadow laying on his forearms. Between his arms and his head stood Omega, he was trapped in the Hedgehog's embrace as Shadow began laying his head on top of the robot.

Rouge was bemused by the sight, though she took a second to use whatever liquid was left in the bottle she held to wash out some sand that had gotten on her head, she began to grow irksome of the tiny beads being everywhere on her person. The other bottles Omega had previously lay flung around her so she wasn’t worried about keeping hydrated.

The click of her heels was muffled by the sand as she walked towards the giant black hedgehog with Omega trapped in his grasp, the robot didn’t look worried with the situation but quite a bit confused, he turned to Rouge who could only shrug at her companion, Shadow was currently nuzzling his muzzle all over Omega and she had no idea why.

“I hypothesise he is currently using me like one of your heat packs” Omega guessed. It was a good theory, the fact Shadow in all his delirium teleported to a hot place and had been soaking up all the heat the desert had to offer, and now he currently had Omega trapped between his claws like an action figure. The robot retained heat pretty well so Rouge agreed with his theory.

“Well I guess that’s your job now hun, that’s a shame, I was gonna have you fetch me some sunscreen” she joked. But honestly she was kicking herself for the sun burn she was definitely gonna have later.

“This is a fine task, my metallic body burns with heat and rage for the enemies I have not yet slayed, I am happy to lend some of this heat if it calms Shadow” Omega declared. Again, he was thoughtful, but Rouge really had to get him a hobby to curb his murderous tendencies.

It was at some point when Shadow began nodding off that Rouge pulled out her phone to listen to a podcast she was putting off, while she was sure the hedgehog didn’t need supervision as he slept, the bat didn’t want to leave in case he awoke and was still out of it. She was legally responsible for the large hedgehog meaning if he were to cause any problems, GUN would absolutely have her head.

Omega surrendered to Shadows earth moving snores as he found Shadows grip on him was too tight to escape. He simply offlined himself as the prospect of not being able to do much for several hours didn’t make him too happy, but Rouge had promised to wake him the moment he could walk free.

————————————————————————

Shadow woke up groggily, he felt invisible weights on his head as he slowly lifted it, his arms felt quite the opposite as he moved them around with ease, they were swift to his command, except his left claw that had an offline Omega in it, how’d he get there? He gently placed the black and red robot onto the ground, however he had placed Omega upside down and didn’t know how to get him right side up.

His eyes blinked out of sync as he spied Rouge a couple feet, he wanted to call to get her attention but the words fumbled in his mouth when he tried. The bat hadn’t noticed the blundered attempt at her name as she was quite engrossed on her phone with earphones plugged in her large ears. He moved a claw over to gently prod her, except he misjudged how far she was and how fast he moved his hand as his forefinger practically bowled into her.

Rouge had thought her issues with sand would be over but hadn’t anticipated being sent crashing right back into the troublesome particles. Some even got in her mouth and she wanted to scream, she furiously whipped her head to the offender as Shadow looked like he hadn’t just hurled her into sand. He actually still looked out of it but she could tell a significant amount of the suppressant had worn off as he seemed to recognise her.

“Hi” Shadow slurred happily, it was kind of cute how happy he looked to see her but Rouge was a little too busy trying to get sand out of her eyes again to appreciate it. When she got the little troublesome beads out of her lashes she observed Omega placed on the ground, upside down.

“Hey hun, it’s good to see you doing a bit better but try to be careful would you, I’m a lot squisher than Omega over there” Rouge lightly scolded. She had no idea how much of that got through to the less loopy Shadow but then he looked over to the inactive Omega.

He then put an oversized thumb and finger to one of the robot's legs that stuck out and raised him up and out of the sand, Rouge watched as the claw with Omega was brought over to her and laid the robot down. He was on his back which was much better than his previous position, however Rouge cringed at the robot's leg that had been pinched by the Hedgehog, there was an obvious dent due to Shadow accidentally using more pressure than needed.

“Thanks Shadow” Rouge deadpanned, she was glad there was still a tiny sense in Shadow that knew in his current state Omega was safer by Rouges side than his. The titanic hedgehog only nodded in response, which Rouge could tell he regretted as the nod was more enthusiastic then he needed and he rubbed at this temple for a moment.

It was then Shadow attempted to stand, before Rouge could warn him to not do so the overgrown hedgehog got to a near standing position but as soon he did a wave of dizziness hit Shadow as the speed of which he got up did not agree with his already aching head. Rouge grabbed Omega's lifeless metallic body as Shadow fell ungracefully back into the sand, somehow the gods graced Rouge with not getting a wave of sand sent in her direction this time. When the earth stopped shaking she rose from Omega's chest and looked at Shadow who was in quite an unflattering position.

Usually such a stunt would have left Shadow quite embarrassed but the towering lizard hedgehog looked confused that he had even fallen in the first place, his eyes met with Rouge’s as a dopey look fell on his face. “That was dumb” he concluded

Rouge snickered at that, “extremely dumb, how bout you lay in the sand until you more like yourself hun?” The bat advised. Shadow untangled the mess his limbs were in as he got into a more comfortable position, his body felt like a loop of noodles and the bat’s idea didn’t seem like a bad one.

“That’s a good idea, you’ve got good ideas, you're a good idea Rouge” his voice rumbled, his delirium was beginning to get funny. She knew when he was coherent he’d probably not remember today's events so she’d keep it between Omega and her unless asked. Shadow got himself back into his front and turned to Omega “he’s a good idea too”.

She suddenly remembered the offline robot and struggled as she walked over to him with hot sand fighting her as she did, he’d be mad if the bat didn’t wake him back up, Shadow watched as Rouge fumbled to send a frequency through her watch that was equivalent to getting an alarm from a phone.

“Where’s Sonic?” Shadow questioned, that surprised Rouge, did he recall his encounter with the blue hedgehog?

“I’m sure he’s home with Tails right now hun” she assured, why was he even asking?

“Okay…I’m gonna tell Sonic what a good idea he is”

Rouge whipped her head at that, she heard Shadow teleporting before she saw him leaving the spot he was previously laying at. She grabbed at her massive ears in awe that he had teleported away.

Omega awoke smoothly, his optics brightened and his body began to mechanically rise. He was none the wiser to Rouges distress as he noticed Shadow was not where he was when the robot had offlined

“What did I miss?” The robot innocently asked. Rouge turned to him, mouth agape as the silence was the only thing returned to his question

#sonic the Hedgehog #sonic #biolizard shadow au #shadow the Hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #tails the fox #miles tails prower #my art #my writing

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miam0re · 1 year

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Neuvillette fucking you over his desk, no care about the documents strewn across on polished wood. You've been pushed past the threshold of what is reality and what is a result of the ecstasy caused by your quivering, orgasming body. Your ass looks bare to his hungry eyes as he grabs a quill and dips it in navy blue ink, flourishing his signature across your ass cheek before stamping the tender flesh with a smack from his hand.

Propety of Neuvillette.

#mia.smut #mia.thirst #genshin impact neuvillette #neuvillette smut #im having the most sinful thoughts about this man #struggling to breathe akrafjafkakfa #still getting used to spelling his name

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riftofthestars · 10 months

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Till further notice, this blog is going to kinda hang at the edge of the earth while @autumna-potentia is going to be more active, so hope I'll see y'all there. Assume that anything sent/liked from this blog is for that one unless specified

#Quill and Quiver: OOC

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wanderersbell · 2 years

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in the safety of your arms, he can exist.

wanderer x reader

summary: when the past comes to haunt him in his sleep and he wakes up in a panic, there's an unspoken agreement that you leave him be and never speak of it moving forward. however, he can only pretend for so long.

genre: angst/comfort, fluff warnings: descriptive nightmare word count: 1,347

a/n: i'm back with more fluff ╰ (´꒳`) ╯ this one's kinda dark, not sure if nightmares should be a warning but figured i'd add it just in case. enjoy!

every now and then when he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, it feels like he’s there again. surrounded by raging flames in the middle of a small burning house with danger closing in and despair bubbling under his skin, forced to face a reality he never wanted to be a part of.

those words that had once given him another sliver of hope,

“but what if… hearts can be born from ashes?”

faded away in a storm of ash and soot, fueled by the bitter flames of deception.

why him?

what did he do to deserve this?

why won’t anyone just stay with him?

he drops to his knees with a wretched sob, vision swimming with tears that fall from his eyes with practiced ease. in the distance the sounds of familiar voices grow louder as they approach, cackling and chanting while the puppet digs his nails into the ground.

he can pick out every individual voice, can practically see their faces as they antagonize him from every direction. the one who abandoned him, the one who feared him, the one who lied to him, the one who tricked him. they all smile and laugh as their detached heads dance around him in a maddening show of victory, as if they’re celebrating the way he curls up and frantically covers his ears.

let me out.

they inch closer, he can feel their breath against his skin every time they open their mouths.

let me out let me out let me out.

the one who tricked him suddenly grows a twisted, clawed arm that starts reaching towards him, hand outstretched aiming right for his chest.

LET ME OUT LET ME OUT LET ME OUT-

he jolts awake and lurches forward with a gasp, arms immediately wrapping around himself as he quivers in fear and waits for the hand to grab him.

one.

two.

three seconds pass before he realizes the voices are gone, the roaring sound of flames replaced by a dead silent room accompanied only by the sound of soft breathing somewhere next to him.

he slowly lifts his head to peer over his shoulder and ends up meeting your eyes from where you were sat scribbling away into a journal before he suddenly sat up. you acknowledge each other, and there’s poorly hidden concern all over your face, but no words are spoken and you shortly go back to what you were doing before, the way he demanded you to the first time this happened. it was just a senseless nightmare, he doesn’t want nor need your worry or pity.

he tries focusing his attention on objects around the room, willing his limbs to stop shaking so hard he can barely keep a grip on himself, but that feeling won’t go away. he can still feel multiple pairs of eyes staring through him, hear whispers of their elated mockery in the air. but no matter how hard he tries, minutes pass by and a lump starts forming in his throat with each ticking second.

he can tell you’ve noticed this when he hears the sound of your quill against the paper slow to a stop, knows you’re looking in his direction, but he keeps his head tucked down into his knees and bites his tongue against the way he’s about to fall apart at the seams.

“hey,” you call out softly. the sound of your voice rings clearly in the silence and tears immediately start gathering in his eyes at your gentle tone.

on the other side of the room, you’re fidgeting with the pen in your hand and trying to carefully select your next choice of words as to not worsen the situation. he looks so lonely, so afraid all curled in on himself while using every last bit of his willpower to keep it together, and you are so, so tired of seeing him suffer.

“are you…okay?”

three words, and the dam breaks. when he slowly lifts his head to face you there are tears streaming freely down his cheeks in fat droplets and a remorseful look on his face. not towards you, but towards his own weakness and the way he failed to keep it under control over nothing more than a measly nightmare.

your eyes soften immediately at the sight and you’re up from your seat in an instant, silently crossing the room while the wanderer glares at you through his blurry vision. he tenses up as you hesitantly sit next to him with your hands clutched tightly together in your lap, wanting so badly to help but not wanting to cross a boundary while he’s in such a vulnerable state.

you both stare at each other silently for a few seconds before you finally speak up, voice coming out as an unsure whisper. “do you wanna talk about it?”

he bites his lip and shakes his head, a movement so slight you only managed to catch it because of the moonlight peeking in through the window behind him, and nod your head wordlessly in response. he’s still shaking, you can feel it under the shabby mattress you’ve been calling a bed, and your hands start reaching towards him before you can even register the decision to do so.

you only managed to lift them a few inches before there’s a sharp intake of breath and he curls in on himself impossibly tighter, seeing a flash of the jagged hand that had been reaching out to grab him before he had woken up. you freeze and quickly bring them back to your lap as guilt rushes through you. “sorry! i’m sorry, i-“

you cut off your apology when he says something, so quiet and muffled that you can’t catch a single bit of it.

“what?” you whisper softly, meeting his eyes again as he slightly unfurls from himself.

“please,” he repeats himself louder this time. there’s a heart wrenchingly desperate sort of look in his gaze has you instantly forgetting all of your previous awkwardness as you lift your hands again and hook them around his body to pull him into your embrace. he looks furious, uncomfortable, and anxious all at once, but in the end the grief he’s remembering so vividly overpowers everything else and he lets you tuck his head into your neck with a defeated sob.

his arms finally unwrap themselves from around his knees and he immediately clutches onto your shirt for dear life as you hold him. he really is trembling like a leaf, body so tightly wound that he feels almost entirely solid against you. on instinct you start absentmindedly running a hand through his hair in a comforting manner as his tears dampen your shirt, yet he makes not a single sound as he cries silently in your arms.

“shhhh,” you whisper gently, tightening your hold on him a fraction as the situation starts to catch up with you and you feel tears start to prick your own eyes. “you’re okay, it’s okay. everything is fine.”

with the rhythmic feeling of your fingers against his scalp and your steady heartbeat to fill the silence of his racing mind, his shaking eventually slows to a stop and his tears finally run dry as you continue to hold him and coo soft reassurances every now and then until your eyes are starting to slip closed with fatigue.

he knows he should be embarrassed, ashamed, angry, and so many other things, but in the safety of your arms he can’t bring himself to fight the lull of your steady presence, so instead he mutters a weak and exhausted, “don’t leave me.” into your shirt. he didn’t intend for you to hear but, of course, you did, and like it’s the most obvious and casual thing ever respond with an equally as quiet, “okay.”

this time, when his eyes slip shut and he falls into unconsciousness again, the past leaves him alone. in the safety of your arms, nothing tries to haunt him. nothing holds him back.

in the safety of your arms, he can exist.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #my writing

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darkenedreaper · 1 year

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Loosen Up

Professor Snape x Professor F!Reader

Warnings: hints at smut, fluff

Summary: Severus was growing comfortable around you as his new colleague but can he hold off his urges?

You were fairly new as a Professor at Hogwarts, Snape had you as an assistant for Potions, but really you specialised in Herbology. You'd been teaching at Hogwarts for 6 months now, but you had been with Severus as a student, so him seeing you back as a Professor after all the time he'd been teaching there, it was a surprise to say the least.

As you were Snape's assistant during his Potions classes, and knowing him from your student years, you were fairly comfortable around him, Severus however was just starting to warm up to you again. During your student years you had flirted and teased him but never got as far as kissing. The second Professor Snape saw you walking into the Great Hall with your teacher robes on his heart fluttered remembering all of the moments he had with you.

As said, you were comfortable with him. So after him clearing out his final class you invited him to your chambers late that night to sit and grade papers with each other, read or study up with a cup of tea. You had mentioned to him it would be nice to have his company. His mind and heart jumped at the thought of being in your chambers at night, they also jumped at the mention of you enjoying and wanting his company. His head and heart screamed yes to your invite but his mouth kept up his cold front and replied; "What time shall you expect my arrival?"

So that's how you both ended up the way you were now in your chambers. He'd been over for about 3 hours, he felt comfortable in your surroundings. You both remained in your teaching outfits for around an hour but you excused yourself to change into something more comfortable, you threw him a smirk. He only hummed but he moved around in his seat, impatient and teased. He was sat at the coffee table with student papers and books neatly spread across it. He had taken off his robed but kept his long, form fitting, buttoned up jacket on. You had told him to take it off multiple times; "Severus aren't you hot? Take off your jacket and sit down here with me", you asked him whilst you were sitting on your L couch reading up on Herbology.

His hand that held his quill quivered slightly but he didn't take his eyes off of his students work that he was marking; "Thank you Professor L/N but I'm contempt with the way I am dressed now". You only replied to him with, "Boring. And drop the Professor whilst we have privacy, its Y/N". He hummed at your response, giving you the acknowledgment.

You'd been working over hours this week which meant you were sat hunched over your desk at late hours, causing your back to stiffen up. As you were leaning against the couch reading you wriggled a few times... maybe a few bones needing cracking to release some tension. You released a few quiet groans aswell from the slight pain you experienced. So you climbed onto the couch on your belly, legs spread out, a little more than appropriate, your back was slightly arched and you hung a little length of your arms off the couch so you could continue reading. You still groaned now and then.

Hearing your discomfort, Severus only moved his eyes to look for any signs or anything that was causing your discomfort, he couldn't lie to himself, he thought the sounds you were making were sexy and suggestive, but he was too stunned to even think when you moved to your belly. His eyes roamed over the curve and arch of your back before resting on your arse. He ran his eyes up to the meeting of your thighs and he sat up straighter than he had before, still listening to your groans. He dropped his quill onto one of his books;

"What are you making so much noise for hm?", he asked, leaning back in your chair, linking his fingers over his crotch.

"My back Severus, I've been hunched over desks for quite some extra time, I don't think its done my back any good", you replied still groaning and subtly wriggling to find a more comfortable position.

"We can't have that can we", Snape said whilst slowly bringing himself to his feet. His eyes still swept over your body and if you saw his eyes you'd see the hunger and need in them. He slowly began to make his way over to you, watching as you turned a page in your book. His knees hit the couch and he brought a leg and bent it to kneel on the couch. As he did he made sure his leg moved yours, spreading your legs further apart for him. You got a shock from feeling the contact he made with your leg that was so far up. You slightly turned your head round to see him towering over you before he balanced himself by placing his hands on both hips, he kept his other leg close to the couch. His large hands roamed gently yet firmly from your hips all the way to your shoulder blades. He places one hand back on your hip and he propped himself over your body, reached over to you and took the book from you hands. Without taking his eyes off your lips, his hair brushed your cheek and he kissed the tip of your ear, his deep, silk, smooth and rough voice radiating through your body; "Loosen up".

He knew what he did to you, he felt your breathing quicken ever so slightly when his leg touched yours. Noticed how your body twitched when he brushed you in a sensitive place, and he noticed and heard your little exhale when he whispered to you. He knew the things his voice could do and how weak it made women. Not to mention his height and looks; he could have anyone he wanted, but he wanted you, and he was going to get you and only you. He moved back up your body leaving light kisses down your spine before placing his hands either side of your arse. You heard a slight growl and groan from him. His hands started to trail up and down your back again, gently squeezing and rubbing away any tension. Your breathing had quickened and groans were sweeter and a little louder; "Oh Severus".

Snape only gave a long hum to your response. He spent a while on your back and he felt his clothes getting tighter, his breathing getting deeper, he was getting impatient and wanted to have you. You were the same. When he finished kissing and massaging your clothed spine, he moved backwards so he could start on your thighs. He couldn't wait.

(The chokehold this man has on me)

#severus x reader #severus snape #snape fanfiction #snape x reader #professor snape #professor snape x reader #hogwarts #harry potter #severus snape x you #snape x reader fluff #snape x reader smut #prof snape x reader smut #prof snape x reader fluff #Severus x reader smut

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squiddy-god · 3 months

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brothers S/O proposing like them (obey me)

Oh he loved this,

Lucifers (while not my favorite) was a simple yet sweet proposal

He’s confused when you suddenly approach him while he works away in his office, your hands resting on his slumped shoulders gently squeezing to relieve at least a little of the tension in them.

He’ll set down his quill and shift to look up at you as you beamed at him

He’ll go soft before inquiring why you were here?

And then you’ll tell him, gentle smile on your face you’ll cup his cheeks and press your head to his

And then you say it

You’ll say you loved him, that out of any being in the three worlds you wanted to spend your time with him, you’ll say how much you love him and how deep your love runs

Lucifer will break out in a grin, pride and love swarming his body and making his head go fuzzy

he’ll hold you tight in his arms, face pressed into your stomach so you cant see his glossy eyes

He’ll accept with his voice only slightly quivering

Almost a member of the “yeah i cried” squad

You walked into Lucifer’s office, the large doors creaking a bit as you entered. You knew he could sense your presence as you quickly walked up behind him, your hands coming to rest against his shoulders. Squeezing gently you kissed the top of his head. Lucifer set down his quill letting out a small sigh as his shoulders slumped, he shifted in his chair, red gaze fixing on your (e/c) eyes. They softened at the sight of you, a tinge of relief quickly washed away as he opened his mouth to speak, “y/n? Why have you come here? Do you need something? I swear if mamon has done something again…” he trailed off, thin brows knitting together as he began to plan how to string up the second born.

You let out an airy laugh before shaking your head, (h/l) (h/c) hair swaying with the movement. “No luci, it isn’t mammon…” you paused, delicate (s/t) hand cupping his cheek, thumb suning over his porcelain skin. His eyes widened and his cheeks reddened slightly, he could feel the love in your touch and he could see the adoration in your eyes. “I love you luifer, in all the beings in the tree worlds I want to spend my life with you, i love you so deeply lucifer, for all of your faults and flaws, and every little thing about you, that’s why i want to spend the days with you. Lucifer, please marry me.”

His long arms wrapped around you, his face buried in the fabric of your shirt. You couldn’t see his face, couldn’t see the prideful grin or glassy eyes, and definitely couldn’t see how flushed his cheeks were .

You remained like that for a moment, gently smoothing his hair as his grip never faltered. “Yes” he said, the strain in his voice muffled and hiding the slight quiver it carried. Soon enough he pulled back, gleaming ruby eyes now soft and brimming with the love he felt, he pulled you down and you could feel the love head for you brimming from his fingertips, you could feel the devotion and adoration threw the touch of his lips as he kissed you deeply, and you could feel the joy as he held you close.

Mammon

First member of the “yeah I cried” squad

He was super confused when you came running up to him with a defeated looking luck and solomon

Seriously who died (too soon?)

When he turns and asks what your up to and you pull out a radio hes even more confused??

And then you start singing and dancing and he goes 0o0

It finally dawns on him that “OH SHIT AIN’T THIS THE SAME WAY I PROPOSED”

You didn’t even get the hole thing done (much to luke and solomons relife) because mammon nearly tackled you into a hug, lavashing your flushed face with all the kisses that he could

He absolutely loved this

Like hes full on bawling and blabering, wiping his eyes and saying hes not crying over some dumb human

*HIS dumb human

You had a broad grin on your face and a bounce in your step as you carried the small speaker/radio. Your cheery aura was a stark contrast to the two behind you. Luke and Solomon followed behind with deep set frowns, a look of dread and embarrassment etched into their eyes. The moment you saw the familiar fluffy white hair you immediately made a b-line towards the greedy demon. “Oh great mammon!” you called out knowing he secretly (not so secretly) loved it. “What’d Ya want, human?” he asked feigning annoyance despite his flushed cheeks. Your grin grew as you set down the speaker putting on the song you picked out, the bumping beat starting as Luke and Solomon danced miserably. Mamon stared at you, confused out of his mind until you started to sing.

“We’re no strangers to love~ you know the rules, and so do I!” you sang as mammons azure eyes stared at you, wide and shocked. Blowing him a cheeky kiss you kept singing “a full commitment what i’m thinking of! You wouldn’t get this from any other (prefered pronouns)!” you did a little spin, pointing directly at mammon. “ I~ just wanna tell you how i’m feeling~ gotta make you understand-” you were about to get to the chorus when a blur of white and orange flew at you, the air was almost knocked out of your lungs as mammons arms wrapped around you pulling you into his chest. “Yes! yes,yes, yes! Of course i’ll marry ya! I am your man after all!” he practically shouted, bright blue eyes flowing with tears down his dark skin. One arm came up to wipe his face, sniffling slightly. “I ain’t crying! Not ‘cause some stupid human proposed to the great mammon” he looked down at you with frantic eyes, “ya did propose right!?” he asked, you chuckled and nuzzled your face into his chest, “of course that was a proposal you dummy” a wide grn spread arocss his face as he planted kisses acros your flushed cheeks, forehead, and nose. He bent down slightly, arms hooking behind your knees as he effortlessly housed you into the air, spinning you around. “IM GONNA BE YOUR MAN! YER GONNA MY SPOUSE! MY HUMAN”

Luke and solomon just sighed, quickly scampering away to avoid any further embarrassment as you two shared this sickly sweet moment.

Levi

Second member of the “yeah i cried” squad

So doing this took FOREVER because you straight up made a video game for him

It was a simple 8-bit game with levels like pacman and mario, it also held a tone of easter eggs from tsl you knew he’d enjoy

The story levels are based on the little adventures you two have gone on, including a danganronpa style recreation of the tsl quizz thing were you got his pact.

The hole game is threw his eyes but he gets little snips of your thoughts (you play a side character who follows him) about how much you love him

He beats the game pretty quickly and is about to hand it back to you and say he liked it when he hears the music of the final achievement screen.

Starts crying when he sees that you just proposed to him

His brain short circuits a bit

He accepts and gets really clingy

Also tried to pull that “ BuT I’m An IcKy OtAkU” bs so plz tell him u luv him and that he is poggers

Levi quirked his head to the side when you handed him the see-thru orange disc casse, inside a basic white game disc. “I-i uhhh, i made you a game and i want you to play it” you said, face red and fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Levi wanted to squeal, you were so cute being all blushy like in his otome games. He beamed his little ha-ha laugh ringing in the blue lit room, “of corse ill play it” he paused face lighting up red “s-sence you made it and all”

He gingerly placed the disc in his desktop disc slot, the game sliding in and roaring to life. Levi started to play, his slender fingers taping away at the wasd keys, his sprite character, that looks suspiciously like him, jumping and swimming over all the obstacles like he had played the game a thousand times. You smiled, sitting down next to him you waited for him to finish, you knew it wouldn’t be long, it was levi after all.

And soon enough he came to the final level, the sprite you had made to fallow him, the one that looked and acted suspiciously like you, had said they would go ahead and wait for him. So he sawm threw the last level, it was a simple water level with a few mini fights and a boss that levi said looked like mammon. You giggled as he noticed all of the easter eggs you placed, from his gaming headset, ruri-chan figurines, and henry 2.0, to all of his TSL merch.

Finally he beat the final level, he was about to turn to you for the kiss you gave him evry time he beat a game when more music started playing. Levi reconised this immediately “HUH!? Is that the wedding music from episode 248 of TSL when the lord of shadows has to crash a wed-” levi was about to start rambaling when his orange eyes caught a glimps of the screen.

Neon orange letters flashed and blinked back at him “Marry me great hero” he read outloud, slowly processing the letters that hung above the sprite character. It dawned on him in that moment, you had proposed, this game was a storey of the little things you did together. Gentle tears rolled down his cheeks as he turned to you “b-but im just a icky otaku! W-why would you” he trailed off, voice growing meek and near a whimper. You cupped his cheeks and kissed the corner of his eyes “because i love you leviathan, and your not an icky otaku, your an amazing boyfriend, and hopefully an amazing husband to?” you asked, waiting for his answer. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you against him tightly “Y-Yes! N-normie” you smiled and squished his cheeks “my little pogchamp~”

Satan

You had his full attention when you came into his room carrying a book

So when you hand it to him and tell him to read it you don’t have to tell him twice

Satan is a smart boy, so the moment he opens the book and its a picture-pop up book he knows exactly whats up

You make his heart all fuzzy with love instead of rage

Reads the hole book before setting it down and going into soft satan™ mode

Pulls you into his arm chair and buries his face in your neck

U aren’t leaving hun

He accepts and teases you about the hole soul mates thing

Tease him back cause that was his idea (his super fucking cute idea)

Once this little shit is done cuddling you he immediately go’s to brag about it to lucifer

Even better if lucifer comes looking for you in satan’s room and satan go’s “oh mc is just cuddling with me, their FUTURE HUSBAND”

Cheeky bastard

He keeps the book in a safe place and gets angry if someone even thinks about looking at it.

Reads it again in private and joins the “yeah i cried” squad, i’ll die on this hill

Satan’s teal eyes shot up the moment his door opened, he smiled gently as you walked in, apoliginging and hoping you weren’t bothering him. His interest was honed in on the book you hold in your hands, the dinky cover covered in small and large cat designs, his eyes drifted up to meet your (e/c) ones “hmm? y/n, what’s that book? “ He asked, curiosity taking hold of his mind. You smiled brightly and handed the book to him “ I made you a book! W-would you like to read it” you looked to the side shyly as you scratch your neck. You definitely didn’t have to tell him twice, he smiled gently and opened the book, the colorful illustrations popping out at him.

“It’s about the journey two soul mates go on” you said, oh he knew exactly what you were doing, but of course he still read the book. He felt his heart flutter at the small tales of your midnight walks, the time you two went to the cat shelter, and the times you two spent reading in his room, all of the little moments, and as he turned the last page of your picture book, the final illustration popping out. He looked at the picture, a small illustration of you standing in front of him, the bubbly letters “marry me?” written above with bold outlines.

He smiled gently, teal eyes locking with yours as he closed the book and set it down on top of one of the many stacks. He pulled you onto his lap in the arm chair, his blond hair tickling your cheeks as his face nuzzled into your neck. “Soul mates? How cheezy y/n, but i accept nonetheless.” he said chuckling. “Oh your one to talk mr. “I wanna spend my life with you, ur my soul mate” just remember this idea was YOURS first” you said giggling with him. He smiled, placing a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips.

“I can’t wait to rub it in Lucifer’s face,” he smirked, mind running with how he’ll gloat about this. You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head at Satan’s ridiculousness. You were glad he had accepted, and little did you know the tears he shed once he was alone.

Asmo

Alright so the bouquet you got him was a combination of pink peonies and pink hydrangeas

It’s a very pretty bouquet

Pink peonies mean happy marriage and pink hydrangeas mean heartfelt emotion

Prepare to have lipstick smooch marks all over because the first thing asmo dose after he gets over his shock is hug you and give you a smooch

To think you would propose with his idea

And with such a beautiful bouquet!

Who knew you were knowledgeable about flower language

Honestly he’s really touched and the only reason hes not crying(pretty crying) is because his foundation was 50 grimm

You took a deep breath and knocked on asmos door, you knew better then to walk into his room of all places. One you hurd him give you the ok to come in, you pushed open the intricate door. Stepping inside you saw him infront of his walk in closet. “Hey asmo~ i have a surprise for you!” he whipped aroug now excited, “oh darling you shouldnt have!” he said waltzing twords you. From behind you back you pulled the bouquet of flowers, the shades of pink blending into one another the accents of green highlighting the intracat clusters of petals. “The hydrangeas symbolise heartfelt emotions, and the peonies represent happy marriage” you paused, his eyes were wide and his soft lips were pulling up into a smile.

“T-that’s because i want to marry you, from the bottom of my heart i love you…so…will you mary me” you asked, holding out the flowers to him. A gentle smile tugged at his lips and he took the flowers setting them aside on the bedside table.

He cupped your face in his hands, softly running his thumbs over your cheeks lovingly. “Oh y/n, of course I accept, after all you gave me a bouquet almost as beautiful as me! Who knew you knew flower language “ he said, eyes gleaming with love. He placed a passionate kiss on your lips, the shimmery pink lipstick leaving a sideways smooch mark on your lips.

You laughed as he guessed about wedding plans, deciding that he had to update his devil gram to “3 relms most beautiful spouse #1” and that you had to change yours to “3 relms most beautiful spouse #2” because you were of course just as radiant as he was, at least in his eyes.

Beel

Alright so this almost went horribly wrong

Beel eats plates lmao

So what you had to do was get him a box of cupcakes from madame screams +1 special cupcake that you put the ring on top of

He loves this idea but it takes him a minute to process what you meant

Once he dose tho he gets the biggest puppy grin and pulls you into a kiss

Of course he accepts

Immediately tells belphie because of course he has to be the first to know

You smiled as you walked into the kitchen, beels head immediately snapping towards you as his senses were filled with the smell of soft cakes and sweet frosting. He looked at you with hopeful pleading eyes, “yes beel, the cupcakes are for you” his two toned eyes lit up and his face cracked into a grin.

You happily watched him munch on the cupcakes eyes closed in a big grin and cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. He stopped for a moment and turned to you, offering a deep purple cupcake. “Ah, no thanks beel, these are for you, you eat them” you said with a loving smile, with that he turned to continue eating his cupcakes.

It wasn’t long before he was finished with the cupcakes and ready to go raid the fridge. “Wait beel! I-i have one more for you, but this one is a special one” you said, holding out the bright orange cupcake, the simple ring placed delicately on top of it to make sure beel didn’t eat it too. His eyes stared at it for a moment while he processed what you were asking. “y/n…are you?” he asked, voice laced with hope, you nodded, a shy grin plastered on your flushed face. Beel smiled wide, placing the ring on the kitchen counter and eating the cupcake in one bite, his strong arms wrapped around you holding you tight in his warm embrace. His lips were lightly stained with the colorful frosting dyes, the corner of his puppy-dog smile smeared with vibrant frosting. His now colorful lips met yours in a sweet kiss.

You giggled at the sweetness of the frosting, your lips now matching his with the color. Beel let out a rumbling chuckle before lavashing your stained lips with more kisses “you taste like frosting y/n” you laughed, hands cupping his cheeks and squeezing slightly “YOUR the one who taste like frosting beel”

You stayed like that for a while, just giggling and laughing with each other. Beel was beyond happy that you had proposed to him, and with his favorite thing (besides you and belphie), once belphie woke from his nap he would tell his twin the good news, altho with their odd tendency to be insync with each other, belphie might already know.

Belphie

Oh boy this was both the hardest and easiest thing to do

Final member of the “yeah i cried” squad

So finding belphie awake was the hard part, but when you texted him that you wanted to cuddle he damn near sprinted over because mans got priorities

When you told him to go to sleep he was like “yeah duh” cheeky bastard

He was a little annoyed when you woke him up a few minutes later but when he saw you holding his hand with the ring on it he started crying because fuck man, after all thats happened you still want him

You two have a good moment of emotional vulnerability because you’re one of the people belphie trust the most

First person he tells is beel, but first you’re taking a nap with him, no this isn’t a question its nap time.

Belphie groaned feeling his D.D.D vibrate, he was initially going to ignore it but decided against it. Looking at the bright screen he smiled seeing your name.

“Belphie come to my room”

“I wanna cuddle”

His eyes lit up and he sprang out of bed quickly making his way down to your room. He entered the room, smiling softly when your (e/c) eyes met his and brightened. You were sitting against your headboard in your hoodie and fluffy pajama pants, surrounded by soft pillows and blankets, some that were gifts from him. You patted your lap with a smile and belphie was almost instantly there, setting his cow print pillow next to you and laying his head in your warm lap. “Alright belphie, go to sleep” he scoffed slightly “mmm, that’s what i planned on” he said, slender yet toned arms wrapping around your waist as he snuggled into your stomach.

You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair, the soothing motion quickly putting him to sleep. He couldn’t help it, between your softness, warmth, and your fingering tangled in his hair, he was out in seconds.

You were nice enough so you let him sleep for a little while, peacefully watching his chest rise and fall. After a while you gently slipped the ring onto his finger. You gently shook him awake holding back a giggle as he groaned and stirred, brows knitted together and he glared at you for only a moment before his eyes softened into a halfhearted scowl. “You’re lucky I love you y/n, mmmm, now why did you wake me up” he said looking up at you, he then noticed you were holding his hand, your fingers no longer in his hair but rather intertwined with his, a ring now placed on his finger. His eyes widened, tears welled in his eyes, the dusky irises going glassy as he stared up at you. “Belphegor, I love you. I want you to be there every morning when I wake up and every night when i go to sleep, your face is the one I want to wake up to, I love you belphie and I want to spend life together with you” you said, kissing the top of his nose.

His eyes welled with tears again and he sat up, the blue sleeves of his cardigan damp as he wiped his eyes. His arms wrapped around you squeezing you tightly, you returned the jester giving him a squeeze and petting his hair. “After all i’ve done…a-after I- you really want that?” he sobbed lightly. You kissed the top of his head and nodded. “Of course I do, i love you belphie, i’ve forgiven you, and i love you.” he wiped his eyes, now smiling gently at you “ i love you too, i want to wake up and go to sleep with you y/n”

He hugged you again, this time picking you up slightly as he fell backwards, you now on top of him. “But you still owe me for waking me up” he said, getting comfortable. “Nap time”

#obey me x reader #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #om! lucifer #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! satan #om! asmodeus #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor #om! x reader #obey me! x reader

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