#I decided to do something a little silly for the prompt instead | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goodlucktai · 2 months ago

Note

9, raph and leo?

dialogue prompts

9. “I know, I know it hurts.”

When Raph was eight years old, the twins decided they needed their own bedrooms and, like with all other things they had ever decided, they made it everyone else’s problem. As a united front, the two of them had the capacity to wear down a squad of Navy Seals in a manner of days, let alone one overtired single father.

The campaign for separate bedrooms turned out to be a long con. Donnie had been denied an evil science laboratory by Splinter multiple times, on the grounds of it being dangerous, and Donnie being seven, and evil being bad. But a room of his own could be whatever he wanted, and he wanted a lab.

It took most of a week for Splinter to discover that the twins were still doubled up in the room that was ostensibly Leo’s while Donnie’s was being used for nefarious purposes, but by then Donnie had installed an electronic lock on the door that he built out of components gutted from old kitchen appliances and was fully ready to die on that hill.

While Pops and Donnie were locked in a contest of wills that would ultimately go in Donnie’s favor (because Splinter’s achilles heel back then—and even now—was that he thought little turtles at their most sulky and unreasonable were just adorable) Raphie had looked at Leo with a confused frown on his face.

“How come you went along with it, Lee? You didn’t even get your own room.”

Leo shrugged, bright gold eyes shining with interest as he watched his twin and his father argue back and forth. He was following it carefully, probably ready to join in if it looked like Donnie was going to lose—more engaged than he ever was playing video games or flipping through comics.

At the time, all Leo said was, “Just wanted to see if I could.”

Raph thought it was because he was a troublemaker, and he maintained that idea up until Mikey—intuitive beyond his years, even as a sweet little six year old—said he figured it was just that Leo’s head went as crazy fast as Donnie’s did, only in ways that didn’t involve breaking and building things.

A full decade later, Raph knows Mikey was right on the money. Looking back, he sees a kid who was wickedly smart and terribly understimulated. Leo didn’t create trouble for the heck of it, he just liked having problems to solve. He wanted conversations and tricks and puzzles, he needed hoops to jump through like dolphins did on TV, or else he’d get cranky and sneaky.

Their world became a much simpler, more peaceful place once Leo got his first phone and discovered an online chess app with a leaderboard.

All this to say, Leo has had a mind for strategy since before he could talk in full sentences. He’s a natural-born leader, and after the failed Krang invasion, he really stepped up and took it seriously. Raph is so proud of him he doesn’t have words big enough to contain the size and shape of it all. It isn’t as hard as he had imagined it would be to let go of the reins and give Leo the room he needs to shine.

Some days are better than others. For the most part, Leo says jump and his brothers don’t even ask how high, they just shoot for the rafters. Their teamwork is cohesive, as solid as it was when they initially realized their ninpo, and Raph thinks he’d feel sorry for the Shredder if that guy showed his face in their town again.

But there are also days like today, when Leo says something that Raph’s big brother meter pings as Leo being silly, stirring shit up for lack of better thing to do, and he doesn’t linger on it past that initial knee-jerk impression.

They’re working with a group of mutants out of Hell’s Kitchen, mutants who are walking the line between vigilantism and outright crime. They’re rough around the edges, but good-natured for the most part. The turtles kept bumping into that other group as they crisscrossed around the city until finally their leader, Old Hob, said, “Why don’t we just get on the same program instead of stepping on each other’s heels?” and a tentative partnership was formed.

It’s been a week since then, and in that time Raph and his brothers have been firmly adopted by the grown-up mutants, who ask pointed questions about what time they went to bed the night before and whether or not they had a decent breakfast and how their online classes are going.

“This must be what having overbearing aunties is like,” Donnie said to April on the phone none-too-quietly, and Sally, feline mutant and aforementioned overbearing auntie, knocked her knuckles on his battleshell reprovingly. But that about summed it up.

There was one spanner in the works, and that was Liam.

——

“Anyone else getting bad vibes from that guy by the way?” Leo says one day.

There’s something performative about it, his usual pomp and charisma with a plastic edge. Mikey tilts his head like a service dog who just caught the scent of a potential medical emergency. Donnie looks up from his phone, eyes keen the way they only are when he and his twin are about to communicate with the telepathy they’ll deny they have.

But Raph is having a bad pain day, and his well of patience for shenanigans is much shallower than it normally is.

“Leon, don’t start,” he says, rubbing the slider’s head playfully to take any sting out of the dismissal. “If I have to put up with any middle child nonsense today I’m gonna scream.”

There’s a beat, his second-youngest brother visibly hesitating on a mental fork in the road. He’s gotten so good about being forthcoming but his first impulse is still to play along, deny, conceal-don’t-feel. He still has this idea in his head of what a good leader is supposed to be, and he’s still willing to whittle parts of himself away that don’t fit that mold.

To his credit, Leo tries again. “I don’t like him,” he says with less certainty.

“You don’t have to be best friends with the guy,” Raph replies. There’s enough warning in his tone that Leo knows to drop it. “Just get along until we go home.”

He works his shoulder, trying to do something about the solid ache it’s become, and Leo’s eyes drop to the mass of scarring there and then flit away. He starts to outline the route their patrol is going to take, reaching into his belt bag for the jar of Tiger Balm he’s taken to carrying with him and handing it over to Raph as he talks.

Raph smiles, the warmth in his chest ballooning up to swallow the impending impatience and annoyance brought out by pain. That warmth stays with him through their whole run, even as Donnie video-calls April and deadpans “POV you’re tailing some guy who didn’t get the memo that armed robbery is cringe as hell,” even as Mikey goes out of his way to jump and tumble off a fire escape in time to give Mondo a high-five as he skates by in the opposite direction, even as Leo progressively gets quieter the closer they get to their two AM check-in at the Mutanimals’ railyard base.

Looking back, Raph can count all the red flags he missed and hates himself a little more for each one. Leo sometimes causes problems for fun, and he likes to see what trouble he can get away with or get himself out of, and he is a downright menace to society when he’s bored—but he’s good. He’s sweet, and charming, and wants to help. He wouldn’t have raised an issue with the other group of mutants, potentially cutting ties with useful allies, unless he had a decent reason to.

And that reason, Raph discovers that night—after information has been exchanged and all that's left is to hang out at the base watching TV and playing table tennis until Splinter inevitably texts to remind his sons of their curfew—is Liam.

He doubles back into the meeting room where he left his phone and sees the goose mutant has put himself between Leo and the only exit, head lowered on a serpentine neck, beak open to show a flash of sharp teeth in a display that Raph’s animal hindbrain reads clearly as threat.

His grip on the doorframe causes it to crack.

“Leo,” he says in a voice he doesn’t recognize.

His little brother’s head jerks up, half-hopeful, half-disbelieving. Later, Raph will hate himself for putting even a sliver of doubt in Leo’s mind, for unknowingly invalidating his feelings. Leo should never be surprised that his big brother showed up for him. He should never have been left to fend for himself in a situation that made him uncomfortable, especially after he found the courage to be upfront about it.

“C’mere,” Raph says, lifting an arm—a little turtle’s cue to tuck themselves safely against Raph’s side.

Whatever his expression is doing, it’s caused dead silence to blanket the room like a foot of packed snow. Liam looks markedly unhappy to see Raphael standing there, but Leo runs to meet him.

A strategist, a faceman, a leader, and barely seventeen years old.

“We were just talking,” Liam says with a lightness that rings as false.

“Next time I find out you and my brother were just talking, I’ll wring your skinny neck,” Raph replies, matching his tone. Liam may be twice Raph’s age, but he’s half Raph’s size, and Raph has gone head-to-head with the Krang general and the Shredder and walked it off each time. Raph is fully prepared, in this moment, to murder this fucking goose.

Leo taps on Raph’s carapace, just as one of his violent inner voices is lifting its head in the back of his brain and considering making an appearance. On Leo’s end, a warning that someone else is coming from down the hall. On Raph’s end, a reminder that his first priority is the one he’s holding.

He turns, keeping Leo beside him, in time to see Hob appear around the corner. The cat mutant stops dead in his tracks, slitted eyes moving from Raph, down to Leo, to the doorway beside them, and back again.

“Problem?”

“We’re going home,” Raph says, a rumble in his voice he wouldn’t know how to temper even if he wanted to. “And we’re not coming back. Don’t call us unless someone’s dying or there’s another alien invasion.”

“Knock on wood,” Leo mumbles near-silently.

Old Hob doesn’t answer right away. It’s impossible to tell what the older mutant is thinking on a good day, outwardly recalcitrant and unfriendly, even though he has never snapped at Mikey’s cheerful rambling or Leo’s wheedling attempts to goad him into yet another chess match or even Donnie’s accidental ninpo-related shortage of every appliance in the Mutanimals’ kitchen. He and Sally and Ray and Herman all go out of their way to make their base comfortable and accessible to the turtles and Mondo and Pete, like it really matters to them that the younger mutants have a safe place tucked away that they can fall back on.

And Raph had appreciated that, up until now. Up until they proved it wasn’t safe, actually. Up until he’d seen a grown man leering meanly at his baby brother, just because he thought he could keep getting away with it.

When Hob does speak, all he says is, “Get home safe, boys.”

Raph shoulders around him, and collects Donnie and Mikey from the main room immediately. Mikey says, “Woah, are you guys okay?” and Donnie shoots a poisonous look behind them, like if he glares hard enough he can see back in time to what happened to put those expressions on Leo and Raph’s faces.

“We’re peachy, Miguelito,” Leo says, disquietingly convincing. “Just had a difference of opinion with our hosts is all.”

“Stay out of Hell’s Kitchen from now on until I say so,” Raph adds sternly.

Raph tells dad about Liam when they get home, because there is no universe where that doesn’t happen, and Leo immediately gets hauled into Splinter’s room for what sounds like a very serious conversation. Raph, Donnie and Mikey cluster shamelessly outside the door to eavesdrop, and some frightened thing in Raph’s heart lets out the breath it’s been holding when Leo says, “Nothing happened, papa, I promise. He was just weird.”

“Let him be weird to my Baby Blue one more time and I will show him exactly why your father was the undisputed Battle Nexus champion,” Splinter says. He cups Leo’s face and rubs his thumb over a striped cheek, as if he’d like to keep his son right there where no one had the capacity to hurt him. “Thank you for telling us. I’m so proud of you. I will actually kill him if he looks at you again.”

Leonardo smiles brightly, daddy’s boy of the family and glutton for attention that he is, those leftover dregs of anxiety in his eyes finally melting away.

“I think we should let dad kill him,” Donnie announces, eyes icy, tone flat.

“Nah,” Mikey says, disingenuously cheerful. “Next time we run into Liam I’m setting him the fuck on fire!”

“Language,” Raph scolds by rote, but his heart isn’t in it.

He can’t get that scene he walked in on back at the railyard out of his head. He can’t help thinking what if something worse had happened because I didn’t listen?

It feels like there’s a ghost in his chest, rattling his heart. He’s haunted by the what if.

——

After dinner, Leo looks at Raph meaningfully and points at the infirmary. Doctor Leo’s orders supersede all others, 100% of the time, so Raphael sighs and surrenders his controller to Mikey’s grabby hands without bothering to make the token argument. He keeps driving Princess Peach off the track anyway.

“Have you been stretching?” Leo says, feeling along Raph’s upper arm, where the muscles are visibly knotted. Even his careful touch hurts—that whole side of his body is tender with pain. Raph can’t help but flinch when his shoulder spasms and Leo hisses. “Shit, sorry, I know, I know it hurts. God, Raphie, you gotta say something before it gets this bad. I’m not afraid to bench you, big guy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Raph says, amused by his little brother’s no-nonsense tone, warmed by the care Leo always takes with his family when they’re sitting in his infirmary and putting their hurts in his hands.

There’s nothing performative about him here. It’s just Leo, stripped of every false layer.

“Let’s try to massage it out,” Leo says, all his attention bent to the task. “Then we’ll apply heat.”

Raph hums, watching him work. His arm radiates pain, and he has to grit his teeth as Leo goes to work on the knots and the ache flares close to unbearable and wanes to a dull throb and then flares again.

“Hey,” Raph says before he can overthink it any more. “What would you have done if I didn’t see you and Liam?”

Leo pauses, but only for a split-second. He’s as good as cornered here, because there’s no way he’ll leave Raph when he’s in pain, and there’s nowhere to hide. Thankfully for Raph’s sanity, he doesn’t try to pretend he doesn’t know what they’re talking about, even if he takes a long moment to finally answer.

“Would’ve made Angie make me a Portal Promise to never be alone with him,” Leo admits. Flushing slightly, he mumbles, “It’s, uh, a thing we do—we both make portals, you know, so—it just means we have to keep that promise no matter what happens or what rules we have to break, and we won’t get in trouble later as long as we’re honest.”

Raph’s heart hurts. His little brothers are so sweet, and people exist in the world who would hurt them, and he has no idea how to reconcile that. He hates that both things could be true at the same time.

“Tello doesn’t need to be encouraged to stay away from people, and I’m pretty sure he can read my mind? But I would’ve told him anyway,” Leo goes on. “I tell him everything. I’d try to word it so he didn’t get angry enough to do something drastic, like, cut the brake lines on Liam’s Toyota Corolla. And I’d have to make it sound like you and I were on the same page, otherwise he’d go to you about it, and you’d—uh, be annoyed that I didn’t drop it, I guess.”

Getting impaled by the Krang hurt less than this, Raph thinks. He feels sick.

“Leo—”

“I know,” Leo says quickly, a little too loud. “I know that I don’t always take stuff seriously. It’s not your fault for thinking—you know. You didn’t do anything wrong, Raphie. I just gotta grow up.”

This kid, who—like the rest of them—has already matured well past his age, well before he should have had to. Who’s terrified of letting his family down, who has so much he thinks he needs to live up to. Any perceived failure weighs on him like the death penalty, and Raph knows he had a hand in that.

He needs to listen. Even when he’s aching and short-tempered. Even when Leo is talking around something that scares him. Maybe especially then.

“Can we make a deal?” Raph says, reaching up to hold Leo’s hands still under one of his own. Leo is staring hard at Raph’s plastron and doesn’t seem willing to lift his eyes for love or money, but he jerks his head in a nod. “Next time I’m not hearing you, and it’s something serious like today was serious, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Leo’s mouth twists a bit. If it were for anyone else’s sake, he’d get in Raph’s face and make himself heard no problemo, but it’s an entirely different story when it’s his own safety in question. That part of Leo that wants to always rely on his brothers is constantly at war with the part that believes he’s not supposed to need anyone’s help anymore.

It would be impossible for him to plant himself like a tree and refuse to be budged and demand Raph’s attention if he thought for one second that it would make Raph angry at him.

“What if we came up with a code word?” Raph offers, squeezing Leo’s hands. “If I’m being a stubborn punk, you can tell me the code word, and I’ll listen, and I won’t get mad. Even if it turns out to be a mistake or a misunderstanding. Okay?”

He finally gets a peek of gold as Leo dares to make eye contact. He looks embarrassed, like they’ve made a huge deal out of this for no good reason, and hiding inside his shell until everyone promises to pretend like nothing happened is looking more tempting by the second.

But he’s Leo, their fearless leader. He stared down that portal into the prison dimension without flinching. If he can do that, he can do anything.

“What word?” he finally says.

“You pick,” Raph tells him.

A smile creeps onto Leo’s face, picking its way carefully across shaky ground.

“‘Goose’,” he suggests.

"‘Goose’ it is," Raph replies firmly, committing it to memory.

He lifts his good arm and drags his little brother into a solid hug, ignoring the twinge in his back and side. Leonardo scrambles to return the embrace, shoving his face against Raph’s unscarred shoulder and clinging for all he’s worth. Which is a lot. He’s worth so much.

Later, when Raph’s got the electric heating pad on his arm and he and Leo are watching TikTok compilations to pass the time, Mikey comes through the infirmary door at top speed, waving his phone above his head like a maniac.

“Look what Mondo sent me!” he shouts at full volume. “I put it in the group chat!”

The video shared in the Mad Dogz chat shows Liam being kicked out of the railyard, his bags tossed into the road. Sally is going off at him at the top of her lungs, and Hob is standing by with his arms folded like he’s fully ready to let her maul the guy, and the rest of the grown-up mutants are making it pretty clear with their body language that the goose isn’t welcome anymore.

“Dunno what they saw on the security cam, but they effin’ hated it,” Mondo says in the recording, unbothered by the absolute chaos unfolding in front of him. “Good riddance, Liam sucks. Oh, Mikester, Hob wants to know if you guys’ll be back in the Kitchen for Herman’s D&D oneshot on Saturday so he knows how much food to order. He said you should bring your dad around this time—as if we need another boring old man in the group, ugh. Anyway, let me know and I’ll pass it along, dude!”

A weight Raph hadn’t even realized he was still carrying melts off his shoulders. Leo huffs under his breath, a disbelieving little laugh.

“Can we go, Raphie?” Mikey asks with wide eyes. “Don worked so hard on all our character sheets. He even 3D-printed custom figurines.”

“My bard is going to carry this team,” Donnie says loudly from the next room, because he’s never met a private conversation he wouldn’t shamelessly listen in on.

It’s so important to the Mutanimals that their young friends feel safe with them, and here’s proof of that in Mikey’s hands. Raph doesn’t fully understand why they care, but he’s grateful that they do. It didn’t hit him until now how much it hurt to have the railyard taken away—and how relieved he is that they can go back, after all.

He squeezes the arm he still has around Leo’s shoulders, prompting his brother to look up at him.

“What do you say, Fearless?” he says warmly. “Your call.”

Raph’s listening this time.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #hamato raphael #hamato leonardo #a team #my writing #tmnt fic #prompt #magicalspacedragon #this kind of went all over the place but im super out of it tonight unforch :(

292 notes · View notes

wooahaes · 6 months ago

Text

party hats & kitty cats

pairing: non-idol!lee know x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au.

warnings: food. one-off line about having kids in the future. discussion of expanding the family via adopting a new cat.

word count: 1.3k~

daisy's notes: oh to adopt a cat w lino....

Minho shifted next to you, causing you to lift your head off of his shoulder. “Hold on,” he said, voice soft as could be so as to not disturb you (or, more likely, the cats asleep around you). “Keep your head held up.”

Which was what prompted you to open your eyes right as a string fell snugly against the underside of your chin. Minho pushed it back so it would sit more comfortably, continuing to manipulate the party hat on your head until it looked right. That was when you realized he was wearing one, too.

“What?”

You’d been drifting off a little too much despite the carnage going on the screen (the powers of a bad horror movie, for sure), halfway to dreamland when he moved. The first time, you hadn’t had to move too much—assuming that Minho had just been reaching for his drink. The second time, you thought he’d been putting it back. And now he was just watching you with this playful look in his eyes, proud at his own silly little joke.

“Pretty,” he mused aloud. Then he leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss against your lips before getting up for real this time. The action earned a curious ‘mrrp?’ from Doongie, who had been sleeping at your feet until now, and Minho looked at him. “Doong-doong-ah, just stay there.”

Doongie promptly hopped down off of the couch to follow him instead, cat DNA requiring that he not follow orders from anyone but himself. You just relaxed against the couch, reaching a hand up to pet Soonie where he’d curled up to sleep. He raised his head lazily, purring once you began to scratch underneath his chin. Dori had popped his head up from where he’d been batting around a little mouse toy, watching Minho carefully as he moved about the kitchen with Doongie at his heels. You just found yourself smiling at the scene. Sometimes you joked that Minho fell in love with you once you met his cats and began to adore them almost as much as he does, but sometimes you truly think this relationship wouldn’t have lasted this long if you weren’t all-in on moving in with him and the three cats. You turned your attention back to Soonie for barely a second before you heard the click of a lighter.

And then a minute later, Minho began to sing to you. He made his way over, holding a small cake that was enough for the two of you. Doongie followed after him as he came back to you, all too curious and needing to know exactly what was going on in his home without him knowing ahead of time. Minho carefully lowered himself onto the couch next to you, holding up the cake for you.

“Did you make this?” You asked once he stopped singing.

He shook his head. “I was going to,” he said. “But I decided to focus on cooking dinner instead.”

Good, you thought to yourself. The dinner Minho had cooked for you was a little elaborate. The idea of him making you a cake and dinner, especially when the cake was decorated a little extravagantly, would have been too much. He’d pouted at you when you went the extra mile on his birthday considering how much you’d been working lately, gently chastising you when you were left exhausted after everything.

“I don’t need anything that special,” he’d told you while the two of you were laying in bed, his arms wrapped around you. “Your health is more important to me.”

You turned a little to look at him over your shoulder. “You didn’t like it…?”

“I loved it,” he kissed the side of your shoulder. “I always love the things you do for me. But…” His fingers grazed against the skin, exposed from where your shirt has ridden up. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your wellbeing for me. Okay?”

You had made him promise to do the same, something he’d easily done and sealed with a soft kiss before snuggling in for the night. Now he sat before you, the candlelight illuminating his face more than the television screen did.

“Make a wish already,” he’d lightly teased. “You can stare at me later.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned your attention to the lit candles. For a moment, you debated on what to wish for before settling on something achievable, hopefully. You shut your eyes, blowing out the candles before the smell of smoke immediately greeted you. When you opened your eyes, Minho had reached for one of the forks he’d casually left on the coffee table earlier. You’d assumed at the time that he simply brought too many and would return it to its drawer later, but of course he was a step ahead of you.

“So?” He pushed the fork into the cake, apparently intent on feeding you the first bite before he’d pass the fork to you. He held it up. “What did you wish for?”

“I thought telling you meant it wouldn’t come true?” You teased before closing your lips around the fork, sweet vanilla buttercream bursting over your taste buds as you enjoyed the first bite of your cake. This had to be the same bakery you ordered his birthday cake from last year. Their vanilla buttercream had a certain quality to it that you could never put your finger on (Felix would know, though: he’d complimented it at Minho’s party).

“Is it something I can do?” He asked. When you played up your debate before nodding, he rolled his eyes, scooping up another bite of cake for you. “Then tell me.”

“I was thinking…” You went to take the fork, only for Minho to pull it away from you. A hostage situation, apparently. Unfair. “We could maybe expand the family a little?”

He gave you the most confused look in response. “You said you didn’t want to have kids until later on—”

“Not kids,” you said. “Maybe… We could get another kitten?”

Minho nodded along to the question, thinking it over. He pushed the fork back toward you, purposefully not letting go. You decided to oblige once more as you ate the bite of cake. “We’d have to see about fostering first,” he said, already figuring out the reality of adopting a new kitten when you already had three rambunctious cats around. “Find a space that the others can’t get to while we introduce them to each other…”

Finally victorious in stealing the fork from him, you pushed it through the cake and held out a bite to him. The two of you had shared enough at this point anyway. “So we’ll look into it?”

He nodded. “I think we could. It’ll mean more work looking after them, but I think we could handle it.” He looked at Soonie, reaching up to scratch him between the ears. “Although if the cats don’t respond well, I don’t know if we could go through with it…” He hummed to himself for a moment, thinking harder about it. “Maybe a girl? It doesn’t matter either way, but maybe it’d be nice to have a girl cat around. We’d have to find one spayed or get her spayed when she’s older—”

“Minho.”

He immediately turned back to look at you, realizing how lost he’d grown in kitten adoption thoughts. His gaze flickered back to the fork in front of him, and he smiled at you for a minute before leaning forward to accept the bite. “Thank you,” he said after swallowing. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you giggled. “It’s cute that you care so much.”

He lowered the cake he’d been balancing on one hand, carefully leaning over it so that he could kiss you. When he drew back, his eyes were all twinkly, so obviously giddy over the prospect of a new cat. Or maybe that was just the way Minho looked when he looked at you. His friends told you once that Minho adored you completely, and it was evident when they saw the way he looked at you.

“Happy birthday,” he said for the final time that night. “I love you so much.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

#wooahaes.fic #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagine #skz imagine #stray kids x you #skz x you #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know x y/n #lee know fluff #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x you #lee minho fluff #lee minho x reader #wooahaes.24

217 notes · View notes

cadavercowboy · 6 months ago

Text

Hot Rod

Anonymous said: i need a eddie munson fic where reader is pretty bold. I had a dream where i texted him "i wanna blow you" and he just responded "hot." i need this so bad 😭 Hmmm. *cracks knuckles* Alright, allow me to extrapolate a bit here... Idk why Eddie is a mechanic, it just felt right. I believe he would find this ridiculously hot and would lose his silly little mind if his girl got all confident and cocky about giving him the schlurpy durp.

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You send Eddie some dirty texts and he takes full advantage of the opportunity afforded to him.

Word Count: 2.1k+

Warnings: Explicit content (18+ only). Sexting. Oral sex (it's sloppy toppy, guys!). Slight degradation. Face-fucking. Cum swallowing.

A/N: Reposting this because I privated the original and tumblr decided to fucking eat it. :-)

He heard the ping of his phone between the high-pitched whirs of Wayne’s pneumatic drill, though he’d ignored it on account of the grimy layer of black grease coating his fingers. Another ping and then a third let him know who it was texting him. A sudden sense of urgency had him ducking out from under the hood of the latest vintage car his uncle had him helping to rebuild so he could reach for the red rag on the workbench to clean his hands just enough to check his messages. The sight of your nickname splashed across the screen had prompted a small smile, but the content of your messages had his jaw falling slack.

“Eddieee…”

“I wanna blow you.”

Short. Sweet. Straight to the point. Eddie had licked his lips, fighting back a groan as he re-read the texts.

“Miss the way you feel in my mouth…wish I could taste you right now.”

The bold statement had caught Eddie off guard. While you’re far from a prude, it wasn’t usual for you to so blatantly express your desires. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but he knew a simple text wouldn’t suffice; he needs to give you precisely what you’ve asked for. Still, he couldn’t leave you hanging so he tapped out a lackluster response, knowing he’d make up for it shortly.

“Hot.”

Eddie had stopped giving a shit about his greasy fingers as he dragged a hand through his hair and tried to come up with an excuse to give Wayne so he could get home to you. Sure, he felt a little guilty about flaking on his uncle, but the constriction in his pants won out over the one which tightened his chest.

“Hey, Wayne?” Eddie called hesitantly.

His uncle popped up from his stooped position near the rear wheel of the cherry red Coupe, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“I’m pretty beat,” Eddie lied easily. “Think I’m gonna call it a day, man.”

Wayne nodded as he stood, tossing a rusted bolt into a coffee can already half-full of discarded hardware. He wiped his hands on the stained material of his navy jumpsuit, wondering why his nephew had suddenly decided to pack it up for the night as he checked the dirty face of his watch.

“Alright, kid. I’ll probably be outta here pretty soon, too.”

Relieved that Wayne hadn’t questioned him, Eddie returned his tools to the rack and cleaned up his workspace so as to avoid any reprimanding from his uncle. His phone chirped again and he snuck a quick peek as inconspicuously as possible. He wished he hadn’t.

“Come home and fuck my throat.”

“Jesus goddamn Christ,” Eddie muttered, nearly dropping the device.

Wayne eyed him wordlessly, studying his shaggy-haired nephew as he fumbled with his cellphone and shoved it in his pocket for the second time in the last few minutes. He suspected the jingling electronic had something to do with Eddie’s sudden desire to leave, though he said nothing.

“See you tomorrow, Ed,” Wayne grumbled. “Tell your girl I said hello.”

Eddie’s steps faltered, unsure if his uncle’s words were intentional or if he’s just paranoid. Wayne noticed the hesitation but pretended he didn’t, instead burying his head in the engine of his car to hide his sly smirk.

And that’s how Eddie ended up racing home to you and making it there in record time.

Though he knew you’d kill him for it, he texted you on the drive; punching the keys haphazardly — volleying his eyes between the road and the screen — to let you know he was on his way. He had every intention of testing to see whether you have the balls to back up what you’ve said and he knows you know that even without him saying so. Still, you pretended not to see his text. You feign ignorance as his booted feet come clamoring through the door.

“Baby?” Eddie calls, his voice nearly as tight as his pants had been the entire ride here.

He rounds the corner and spots you. You’re lounging on the sofa and watching something mindless on the television. You look so pretty dressed in nothing but a tattered Tom Petty tee, your bare legs stretched out and your ankles propped up on the arm of the couch. He’d love to bound across the room and ravish you right there on the worn green cushions, but he’d much rather have you make good on the earlier declarations you had made so confidently.

“Oh, you’re home,” you note with a smile, though your expression immediately darkens as you swing your body off the couch and begin to advance on him. “Finally.”

Eddie doesn’t even have a chance to say hello before you’re falling to your knees in front of him. His mouth drops open in disbelief and his arms raise at his sides; he’s not quite sure what else to do with them as your fingers deftly undo his belt and wrench his zipper down. You shove impatiently at his grease and oil-stained pants, shifting them just enough to get to what you want. There’s something so hot about the fact that you seem unphased that Eddie has come straight from work and hasn’t had a shower yet; his dick stiffens in agreement.

The warmth of your hand surrounds his half-hard erection as you reach under the waistband of his underwear and Eddie groans in bliss. Your texts already have him so torqued up, he fears he won’t last very long. If the jolts of electricity shooting through his body at the mere caress of your fingers are anything to go by, he’ll be lucky if his dick even makes it to your mouth.

“Been wanting this all day,” you purr as your fist pumps Eddie’s length, coaxing him to harden further.

His legs waver when he sees how hungrily you stare at his dick, your desperation written all over your face. Your wide, wet eyes peering up at him makes his cock throb in your hand and you lick your lips. He barely hears what you say when you mutter something about needing to taste him because your comment is lost among the sound of his broken moan as your lips surround his sensitive tip.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie whispers, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “That’s so…s’good.”

You suckle his swollen head, intermittently flicking your tongue across the weeping slit until Eddie’s knees nearly buckle. When you lean in to drag your soft lips further down his length, Eddie comes dangerously close to exploding. A muffled moan escapes you as you taste the heady flavor of Eddie’s skin mingling with his sweat. He sucks in air between his teeth, finally looking down at you again and delving his hands into your hair to guide your movements.

As much as you love when he takes control, you want to make Eddie feel good; specifically, you want him to relax and let you take care of him. Rather than heeding the pressure of his hands, you plunge your head forward and swallow as much of his cock as you comfortably can.

Your throat constricts and your eyes begin to prickle with tears. The metal teeth of Eddie’s zipper drag along your chin when you widen your jaw to accommodate the size of him. Gently rocking your head side to side, you manage the last inch before Eddie is pulling away from you. He stops when your mouth is midway down his shaft, taking in the sight of your mouth stuffed full of him as his girth stretches your lips wide.

With your best puppy dog eyes and a dissatisfied whine, you silently plead with Eddie to allow you to proceed. You need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, need to bury your nose in the thatch of curls at his base until you’re gagging around him. You want it so badly.

Eddie shudders when you swirl your tongue against the thick vein that runs along the underside of his cock. Saliva gathers in the corners of your mouth as Eddie sits hot and hard between your parted lips, the slickness beginning to trickle down your chin. Something in Eddie’s gaze shifts in a way that both frightens and thrills you.

“You really want my cock that bad, huh?” he taunts, a hand circling under your jaw to force you to meet his eyes.

You nod your head carefully, your lips sliding against his turgid flesh with the movement. Eddie grunts in response as his thumb brushes along the corner of your mouth to gather some of the spit that leaks out.

“Why don’t you let me fuck your pretty little mouth then?” he adds. “Just like you said earlier. Bet you didn’t think I’d follow through.”

Eddie’s words are stern but teasing, challenging you to prove that you aren’t all talk. He doesn’t wait for an answer, instead shoves his pants and underwear lower, baring his cock and balls and the length of his pale thighs to you. He shifts his feet and brings his other hand to your face, each of his thumbs hooking in either side of your mouth as he pulls out.

“Look at me,” he commands, waiting until you obey before he continues. “Stick your tongue out.”

The wet flesh brushes against Eddie’s cock when you do, the heaviness of the appendage making your thighs clench. Eddie shoves his digits further into your mouth, tucking them between your teeth so you couldn’t close your mouth even if you wanted to. Saliva dribbles from your gaping mouth and he pushes the solid head of his cock through the moisture before shoving the stiff member back between your lips.

“You look like such a pretty little slut. Keep your eyes on me and breathe through your nose,” is all the warning Eddie growls before he thrusts his hips forward.

The first press of his hard cockhead against the back of your throat is alarming and you flinch and cough, but Eddie doesn’t relent. He thrusts with steady and smooth strokes, his hefty cock dragging over your tongue and bumping the sensitive spot that makes you gag until tears spill from your eyes. You gag and splutter and each noise only spurs him on, the pathetic sounds earning a grunt of pleasure with each slip and slide of Eddie’s slick cock.

“Stay just like that,” he snarls behind gritted teeth, making the demand as if you have any choice but to remain in his steadfast hold as he fucks your throat. “Be a good girl and let me use you.”

Just as expected, Eddie can feel his balls tightening with his impending orgasm. Adjusting your position, you brace yourself against Eddie’s forceful thrusts; cupping your hands around the backs of his bare thighs and hugging your body close to his so he can continue to fuck your face with ease.

You’re a mess of tears and drool and damn if he doesn’t wish he could stay here forever. Spit falls in steady globs on your chest, soaking your shirt. The wet sound of his cock sliding through the abundant moisture is going to be ingrained in Eddie’s head for a long, long time. Not to mention the way you whimper as you struggle to take him.

A buzzing in his ears signals the nearness of his release and Eddie holds his breath as he buries every inch of his pulsing cock in your mouth. The swollen head slips just past the tightness of your esophagus and when the muscles squeeze him, Eddie loses it.

He begrudgingly pulls back, only for the satisfaction of coating your tongue with the creamy spurts. You sniffle and whine when the warm drops hit your taste buds and fill your mouth. Though you do your best to keep it all contained, Eddie just keeps cumming and the abundant seed overflows and begins to ooze over your lower lip and down your chin.

“Fuck,” Eddie sighs, fisting his cock and giving it a final shake to dispel the few drops that still seep from the tip.

Not bothering to fix his disheveled clothes, Eddie crouches in front of you. He studies your soaked face and your full mouth, his cock twitching appreciatively at the debauched sight you make.

“Show me,” he whispers hotly.

You widen your jaw and stick your tongue out, careful not to let a single drop of Eddie’s cum escape. He inhales deeply, satisfied with your obedience and directs you to swallow it all. A shiver courses through you at the heated tone of Eddie’s voice, but you do as he asks. Your tongue peeks out to sweep any remaining spend from your lips, though Eddie beats you to it.

His large hand cups the back of your head, pulling you in so he can capture your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. The sweet taste of you mingles with his own saltiness and Eddie moans into the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours until you’re breathless.

“What the hell got into you?” Eddie pants with amusement as he observes you with adoration and surprise.

Joseph Quinn Masterlist ✦ Writing Masterpost

#this repost is a consequence of me getting the ick & also being insecure about my own writing lol #now i have to shine a literal spotlight on my transgression by making a whole new post #anyway #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fanfiction #eddie munson x reader fanfic #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn smut #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

345 notes · View notes

mochinomnoms · 1 year ago

Note

Hi hi friend,

If it is not too much trouble I would like to make a request for your event? I think I would like Floyd with prompt 14- “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!”

They/them for Yuu is fine with me, I was thinking romantic? Where maybe it's obvious to everyone but Yuu how requited their feelings are.

I've really liked reading your writing and hope you continue to have fun doing it (♡°▽°♡)

floyd leech x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, mutual pining [wc} – 3,659 prompt 14: “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!” note - hahahahahhahahahahaha i did not mean to write so much but i went a little buckwild and i think floyd deserves to be allowed to be soft sometimes a floral inconvenience

Lavender roses - Introduced in 1900, lavender roses represent love at first sight. They’re often given to someone to convey that the giver was immediately smitten and fell in love.

You’d decided to attend a karaoke event the Mostro Lounge was hosting to introduce the new spring menu. It was meant to be a nice, relaxing hangout with your friends from Heartslaybul as you listened to your friends attempt to show off their mediocre singing skills.

Ace was in an especially good mood, happy to tease you as you waved happily at Floyd, who’d returned your affections.

“Oi, oi, oiiiiiii, Prefect? When you gonna say something? Kinda tired of dealing with you puking petals every—OW!”

You snorted as Deuce smacked Ace upside the head, muttering about him being an asshole.

“Leave them alone Ace, unless you want to be collared for harassing a member of the student body?” Riddle reprimanded, giving Ace a harsh glare as he turned to you instead.

“You can ignore him, Prefect, you don’t have to say anything to that good-for-nothing merman! I’m sure you could do much better anyways.”

You chuckled, enjoying the soft banter between the group. It was particularly nice seeing Riddle interact more casually with his peers, even if you weren’t able to convince him to sing with you.

“Are you sure you do want to go up with me?” You pouted leaning in close to the red-headed housewarden. “I’ll even let you pick the song—”

“Out of the question.”

You sighed, resting against the plush cushions of the booth while Ace and Deuce bicker about which song would be better for a duet. This was nice.

It was nice, up until Floyd decided to take part in the festivities. Somehow he’d snuck behind you and Riddle, snatching up your friend with a gleeful cackle as he screeched.

“FLOYD! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT—”

“Nah, it’s fine Goldfishie, I need ya for just a sec!”

Floyd placed Riddle in a seat, front and center at the stage, as he climbed up. The cool blue spotlight suited Floyd’s features as he grinned.

Picking up the mic from its stand, Floyd announced, “Alright! This song is for my favorite little fishie in the whole entire school, so you all better enjoy it!”

You expected him to start singing a silly pop song, one with high energy and beats. Or one that became a meme on Magicam last week, something about flamingos and turning pink.

Instead, the upbeat, suave tunes of a familiar song started playing. A familiar love song.

“Is…is this ABBA?”

“Who?” Cater asked, recording the scene with a stifling giggle as Riddle turned redder and redder in embarrassment (and most likely rage) as Floyd continued to serenade him.

“This is ‘Lay Your Love’ by BABA, a classic from the 80s—”

“No it’s called ABBA back home—wait, WHY IS FLOYD SINGING A LOVE SONG TO RIDDLE!?”

Your screech startled the surrounding tables, drawing attention that you were too jealous to focus on. Floyd made eye contact with you, hearing your yelling. Continuing to sing—quite nicely you’d hate to admit—the eel mer winked and smirked, drawing an ire that you didn’t know you had.

“What the hell? Floyd!” With the vindication of a scorned lover, you stomped to the stage and swiped the microphone from Floyd’s hands.

“Floyd, what are you doing?” you spoke into the mic, glaring daggers at the tall beanpole of an eel turned man, who looked unbothered at your angry presence.

Floyd took the mic back and answered, “I’m trying to win my mate back—DON’T GO WASTING—”

“What mate?” You yanked the mic back while Floyd followed suit, though this time you kept both hands on. It became a tugging match as you both tried speaking into the mic before the other took it back.

“Goldfishie.” You could hear Riddle scream at that.

“Riddle’s not your mate! I’m your mate—” You snapped your mouth shut, the mic feedback and your last words echoing through the lounge, mocking you.

Floyd had a large, smug grin on his face, his sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights of the stage. You were now very aware of the packed lounge, and of the students spectating.

The mic was slowly pulled back to Floyd, who gleefully asked “Oh~ Say that again?”

“Nuh-uh.”

You shook your head furiously, trying to pull back in order to run off and curl into a hole from embarrassment. Floyd’s grip on the mic and your hands tightened, preventing your escape.

“That’s fiiine,” Floyd pulled out a small device from his pocket, lightly tapping it on the mic. “I have it riiiight ‘ere.”

Suddenly, a recording of your voice looped into the mic:

“I’m your mate—I’m your mate—I’m your mate—”

He recorded it.

“Oh my god…” You looked at Floyd in horror, who was still grinning ear to ear, like a cat that got the mouse.

“HehehehehehahahAHAHA!” Floyd’s giggle turned into a cackle as he launched at you, mic and recorder abandoned on the floor. Between the ear-splitting squeal of the mic hitting the ground and a 6’2” man tackling you, there was little time for you to defend yourself as your lips clashed, teeth clattering against one another from the brute force.

His long arms wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, dipping you down dramatically as he broke your kiss to instead leave wet kisses on your cheeks, nose, forehead, and every other piece of skin not covered by clothes.

Ace and Cater’s cackles could be heard amongst the now growing laughter, whistles, and jeers of the crowd. You think you could even make out someone yelling at your two to get a room.

“—off the stage! Get off the stage, both of you!”

Ah, it was Azul. Who was stomping over the shoo you both off the stage, giving Floyd a particularly harsh whack on the head with his staff.

“Ow, fuck that hurt!” Floyd whined, scooping you up with his left hand and cradling you to his chest. “Cool it Azul, don’t harsh my vibe—”

“I don’t care! Go make out in your room! This is a lounge not a brothel!”

“Fiiiiiine,” Floyd adjusted his grip to instead throw you over his shoulder, amused by how limp you’d gone in his grasp. “Come on Shrimpy! I got something fun in mind~”

His sentence and teasing tone made you flush, images of you and him in bed flashing through your mind.

“W-wait, Floyd, what are we gonna do?”

“You’ll see, ahahahehe!” Floyd’s giggled echoed through the hallway as he quickened his pace. It was only a few minutes before you realized that you two had made it to the dormitory halls.

Floyd kicked open his door, the hinges squeaking from the force. He marched over to his bed, grabbing at your waist to no doubt throw you on it before pausing.

“Oh yeah.” Like a sudden realization hitting him, Floyd grabbed the corner of his bedsheets and shook them, clothing, books, and crumbs no doubtedly flying off.

Once satisfied, Floyd hummed and once again grabbed your waist, this time committing to throwing you on the bed, which bounced under you.

“AaaAaaAAAah—FLOYD!” You yelped, face turning redder as Floyd caged you to the bed. He looked at you with a hungry expression, licking his lips at the sight of you.

“Wait-wait Floyd, gimme a sec—” you stammered, crawling backwards until your back hit the headboard. “—this is all very very sudden, I—wait!”

Floyd crawled after you, trapping you with his long arms, leaning down until his lips were lingering over yours. You shut your eyes in anticipation, waiting for his hands to grab at your clothes and tear them off.

A soft, tender meeting of the lips. Floyd pressed his mouth against yours, swiping his tongue into your mouth, to which you returned with flustered confusion. The kiss was with such gentleness that you had to open your eyes to confirm that it was indeed Floyd kissing you.

Olive and yellow eyes were closed, a blissful smile on his lips as he broke your kiss, instead pressing almost chaste pecks to your cheeks, down, your neck, and over your shirt where your heart was beating away.

Floyd pressed his right ear to your chest, listening to the increasingly rapid pounding against your rib cage. His arms moved from trapping you against the bed to trapping you against his body, wrapping around your back and tightening while his lanky legs tangled between yours.

You weren’t sure what to do with your own hands, once he had settled laying on you. Hesitantly, you reached to lace them through his hair, pushing the strands back to get a better view of his peaceful face. Admittedly, seeing Floyd in such a state, blissful and sweet, was beautiful.

His smile grew slightly as you combed through his hair, nuzzling his nose into your chest. Into your heart really.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Floyd opened his yellow eye, gleaming at you in amusement. “I just wanted to cuddle, did ya have somethin’ else in mind? Haha!”

He moved to prop up his chin, smirking at you as he teased, “Didn’t think ya had sucha dirty mind, if you wanna ‘do it’, all you had to do was ask—”

You shoved his face back into your chest looking away in embarrassment, feeling his giggles vibrate through you.

“Shut up, ugh!” You pouted, grumbling, “You set me up! Ugh! How’d you even know that would work?”

“I heard you.”

“Huh?”

“Talkin’ to Lil Goldfishie,” Floyd moved so that instead of laying on top of you, he was curled into your side with his head nestled at the crook of your neck. “When you got the flower sickness.”

You looked at him with shock. That conversation with Riddle happened nearly three months ago in between classes.

Specifically, it happened a few weeks after winter break, when you were catching up Riddle to your “adventure” in Scarabia, after which small lavender roses started blooming along your freckles, their thorns scratching your skin.

“And then, he launched us waaaaaay into the desert!” You animatedly waved your arms around as you recounted your fiasco over winter break. “We were trapped, but then Kalim used his unique magic to fill a dry riverbed with water and then!”

Riddle raised a brow at you as you began gigging with a soft blush. “Jade and Floyd had to turn into their merforms, so me and Kalim had to hold on to his back, but when I wrapped my arms around his chest, and he held my hand to steady me! ”

Your friend rolled his eyes as you started to silently squealed in your seat, sighing.

“Are you going to finish? I have better things to do than listen to you babble about Floyd of all people. Honestly,” Riddle huffed, “I don’t understand what you see in that riffraff!”

“He’s not a riffraff!” You quipped, frowning as you crossed your arms. “He’s actually really sweet if you give him the time of day, Floyd just likes being able to have fun with others you know!”

“Even then, his mood swings don’t terrify you? He gets rather violent sometimes.” Riddle took a sip of his tea as you shook your head.

“No, I mean if you just go with the flow it’s fine, plus that just makes him more exciting to be around! Plus we’ve been getting closer ever since Azul’s overblot…”

You smiled softly as you looked down at your lap, fondness growing in your heart like blooms on a warm spring day.

“He can actually be quite sweet, once you get to know him…you just have to give him a chance.”

The two of you remained quiet, the only coming from the distant chatter of other students in the more populated areas of the guest lounge.

“I’m safe to assume then that he is the reason you’ve started sprouting the roses?”

Your soft pink blush deepened as you nodded, picking at the small flower that began blooming on your cheek.

“Yeah…”

“When will you confess, then?” You looked at Riddle in shock, who seemed confused at your distress. “What? It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for him, and even I notice how especially clingy he is around you.”

You shook your head, stuttering, “Well, yeah but that’s—”

“I’ve even heard him refer to you by name, he only does that with Jade and Azul you know?”

“You don’t understand Riddle.” You tried to interject, growing more flustered by the second. “I don’t think I could—”

Riddle continued, “As much as I disapprove, it does seem that you two genuinely bring out the best in each other, he does seem softer when you’re around—”

“Oh my—Riddle, stop—”

“—And you’ve gotten more outspoken, I remember how shy you were—”

“I’m begging you—”

“—Besides, according to the Queen of Heart’s rule number 478, any romantic feelings must be confessed approximately 12 days upon their discovery or the individual in question obligated to deny—”

“I said stop, Riddle!” You yelled at the top of your lungs before choking on rather large bouquet of lavender roses. Leaves and petals fluttered all around you as you continued to let out rough coughs, phlegm and saliva making a mess.

Your yell startled the red-head so much that he simply started at you with a red face and thinned lips, too shocked to properly yell back at you for raising your voice indoors.

Instead, he carefully placed his tea cup on the table between you two, folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. You on the other hand, peaked around the dividers separating your nook from the rest of the lounge.

Ace and Deuce looked over in concern as you continued to cough out more roses, walking over before you shook your head and gave them a thumbs up before shooing them away and turning back to Riddle.

“...sorry Riddle.” You whispered, looking at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to yell, don’t be mad?”

“It’s…fine.” He replied with a strained voice, taking a final inhale before opening his eyes again and making eye contact. “You shouldn’t have yelled, and I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Riddle sighed, relaxing into the soft lounge chair. Though he would deny when asked, the chair that he helped you pick for the guest room was is favorite spot to sit in, as it surprising comfortable.

“May I ask why you refused? It’s quite obvious to anyone that you care for him immensely, for some forsaken reason, and I would even say it’s quite mutual.”

You avoided eye contact as he resumes sipping from his tea, a lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes for his post meal tea.

“Yeah…that’s what the other first-years say too. Even Jade’s been dropping hints on mer courtship gifts.”

“Then? What’s stopping you?

A pregnant pause was in the air as you open and closed your mouth, attempting to figure out what it was that scared you.

“What if…he gets bored?”

Riddle furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in, barely able to hear you.

“What if he what?” He sighed, a bit irritated. “Speak up Prefect, I know you can, you just did earlier.”

You groaned out, “What if he gets bored with me? I’m fun and interesting now, yeah!”

Your friend watched, and you began pacing around the room, holding his head in his hand as he watched and listened to you vent.

“I’m just a silly little magicless human that got transported from another world! Big whoop! What happens when that novelty wears off? You've heard him, he only likes to do things that are fun and interesting to him, but I won’t always be fun and interesting, eventually he’ll get used to me and get bored.”

You turned to look at Riddle with a teary-eyed, but firm look. “He’s get bored and leave me. I can’t handle that! So I just won’t be with him. In fact, I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for him!”

Your voice began to crack as you stated your final sentence, snapping your mouth shut before you got begun crying. Riddle stood up and walked over to grasp your shoulders, looking at you with an understanding smile.

“The sort of person that would abandon a lover simply because they’re bored never deserved one in the first place.”

Riddle hummed in agreement as you sqeaked out a ‘really?’, giving you a soft pat on your shoulder.

“Of course, I can’t say I don’t understand your hesitance, Floyd is…Floyd, after all. However, he is not my friend, you are. If you choose to forfeit your right to confess, then so be it.”

You smiled as he dragged you back to your seats, giggling as he continued, “I personally would say it’s no lost on your part, he’s not exactly the most prime candidate for your life partner should you be stuck here in Twisted Wonderland, may I suggest one of the many more suitable providers?”

“Pfft-like who? You?” you cackled as Riddle looked at you in mild horror.

“Oh dear, of course not! I admire you as a friend, but I have much stricter standards for a partner.” He snapped his fingers in revelation. “Perhaps Ace or Deuce, you are rather close to them—”

“Ewwwww, pass. They’re like annoying brothers!”

Riddle snorted before covering it up with a cough. “True. Trey?”

“If you’re just going to suggest your dorm members, maybe we should switch the conversation to something else.”

“Well I think my dorm produces only the best and most gentlemanly mages of all of NRC, so excuse me if I’m simply trying to give you the best options!”

You and Riddle shared some laughter, a flash of teal catching the corner of your eye. But you saw nothing, so instead you focused back on Riddle as he began recounting his own winter break activities.

You remained quiet as you processed your thoughts, finding the lilac ceiling to be particularly interesting.

Floyd also stayed quiet, still curled into your side as he breathed in your scent. You’re sure that with all of the flowers you’d started coughing up in the last few minutes, you smelled strongly of the lavender roses.

“You know…I was gettin’ real mad when you wouldn’t confess to me.” Floyd whined, propping his head up with his hand to look at you and your pink face.

“I thought it would be nice to get a cute confession out of my little shrimp,” He pinched your nose and forced you to look at him. “It be real fun! Like those cringy romcoms landfolk like so much!”

You replied, nasally due to your pinched nose, “Wait, is that why Jade was telling me about mer courting methods?”

“Haha! Yeah, I was hopin’ that you’d bring me a pretty seashell or somethin’ cute so Icould make fun of ya for later.”

You let out an indigent huff, smacking Floyd’s hand away as he laughed.

“Really? So what made you change your mind?”

“Hearing ya talk to Goldfishie. It pissed me off that you’d think I’d toss you out like humans at sea with their trash.”

Floyd’s tone changed, looking visibly annoyed as he continued.

“Mers mate for life, and I wouldn’t choose someone I’d get bored with.” He sat up as his mood continued to sour. “It pissed me off, and it hurt, that my Little Shrimpy would think about me like that.”

“Oh, Floyd,” you sat up with him, guilt seeping in your bones as you looked at his angry face. Though, with the small tears forming in his eyes, Floyd looked more frustrated than anything.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think—it didn’t occur to me that you felt the same—”

“Well I do, and it’s not fair to me that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.” The way Floyd said that so matter of factly made you snap your mouth shut again, looking down at your lap instead.

“I’m…sorry, Floyd. I wish I could make it up to you—”

Floyd interrupted, moody demeanor brightening suddenly. “No worries, I got just the solution!”

Crawling over back to you so that your back met the headboard again, Floyd grinned maliciously at your curled form.

“Say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say it. Those three little words.” Floyd held up three fingers to emphasize his point. “The ones that will make all those little flower go right away, the ones you need to say to me.”

You stiffened, leaning away from Floyd as he leaned in. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Say it, Y/N.” The use of your name startled your attention back to his face. He looked unusually serious, peering his heterochromic eyes into your own. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve mistaken him for his twin.

You whispered, prolonging the inevitable, “What happened to Shrimpy?”

“Shrimpy was Shrimpy, but now your Y/N. And Y/N is Y/N…”

The two of you shared a smile as the distance between you two continued to close. You couldn’t remember what was so pressing earlier, why you were so anxious when the yellow eye of the man in front of you produced nothing but adoration from your heart.

“Please…” From the uncharacteristic soft murmur to the eyes darting down to your lips and back to your eyes, Floyd drew you back in with a hypnotic ease that only the most alluring of mythical creatures could even hope to imitate.

The two of you leaned in as you placed a hand on his chest, his own left hand coming to cradle your own.

You craned your head back to hover your lips under his, uttering the words you swore to never let leave your mouth.

“I-I…love you, Floyd Leech.”

A single lavender rose grew between your palms, as two longing hearts met as one.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #a floral inconvenience #big advocate for softie floyd leech #its what he deserves

494 notes · View notes

vixensbrainrotts · 1 year ago

Text

Ran fucked up

Summary: so you found out that Ran is sorta-kinda using you for information, money and material for Tenjiku and took revenge before the damage was too heavy. Come the time when Ran was supposed to display results, he has some explaining to do…

Tropes: Tenjiku! Arc

Content warnings: none really, this time around its just kinda cracky, implied intentional accidents i guess? Idk let me know if there’s anything

Vixen’s two cents: I saw that prompt and JUMPED on the opportunity cause i had a silly little idea (lets pretend im not writing this in my theory of evolution lecture right now). This is such a funny prompt to me, I hope you enjoy. Prompt taken from @the-cypress-grove - prompt 131 (thank youuuuu) Remember that my requests are open if you have any ideas!

Rindou has never seen his older brother this nervous- actually, this is the first time he’s seen him nervous, ever. The man in question was pacing (to the best of his efforts) restlessly, and it was driving Rin insane. „It‘s your fault, you know?“ Rindou quipped from where he was sitting. „And you’re not fucking helping. Izana is going to rip me apart, if i survive Kakucho that is.“ Ran mutters more to himself than to his brother.

Rolling his eyes, Rindou decides that he has to take control of the situation. „Come on Ran, its best to get it over with fast, perhaps they’ll pity you because of your… state right now.“ Rindou makes his way to the door, shrugging on a cardigan and taking the keys out of the little dish by the door. The look that Ran gives him almost ignites a little bit of pity in Rindou. Almost.

20 minutes later the two of them are standing in front of the place of meeting and Ran is sweating bullets. „Come on..“ Rindou drawled again. Offended, Ran throws him a look „You’re not the one who’s about to get mauled.“ Ran crows in slight pain, but Rindou spared no sympathy, „Your fault.“ Rindou was the first to enter the area donning the heavenly kings‘s presence. He silently greet his colleagues with a curt wave, but felt a little puzzled when he didn’t receive one in return. The confused looks on their faces were almost comedic before Rindou noticed the distinct lack of brother by his side.

Rindou heaved a sigh and half-turns to face the entrance again, gesturing to the door for the Heavenly Kings to see. „He‘s coming, don’t worry.“ He assured and trudged on towards his place.

„Sit down Haitani.“ a sharp voice pierced the air as Izana spoke. A shiver ran down Rindou‘s spine, and all of a sudden he understood his brother‘s fear: Izana was scary as such, and blatantly terrifying when disappointed. Quickly, Rindou took a seat beside Mochi. Silence reigned after that. Not a word was spoken, not a breath was taken whilst they waited for Ran to enter.

Finally the tension broke when Ran walked through the door, his head low and limping slightly. „Were ya roughed up or something?“ Shion was the first to speak. „Well..“ Ran sounded a bit defeated as his voice trailed off, remaining standing at a respectable distance. „You’re here. And late at that.“, Izana‘s voice freezes the air as he speaks, „I hope for your sake that your little project proves to be as useful as you made it sound.“ Ran tries very hard to look anywhere but the Kings, instead trying to make eye-contact with his brother, but Rindou only raises his hands slightly in surrender and shoots him a look that says you brought yourself into this mess, im not gonna help you on this one.

„Do tell Ran. How‘s your little girlfriend doing, hm? Are you treating her well? Is the good service paying off? She give you somethin‘ yet?“ Shion has the gall to poke at Ran, stacking questions on him in a singsong tone. Despite the almost joking nature of the questions, they hang heavy in the air.

„I don’t think she likes me all that much right now.“ Ran finally says.

„What makes you think that?“ Kakucho is the one to speak this time, noticing Izana's annoyance and grasping the reigns of the conversation. Whilst he sounds genuinely concerned, Kakucho‘s half-blind eye does nothing to make Ran feel more comfortable, as he visibly shrinks beneath his gaze.

„She founded out.“ Ran breaks the news in a whisper, and the air around them changes into something much more alive, and much more electric. „What.“ Kakucho‘s voice is loud in stark contrast.

„She hit me with her car.“ Ran shrinks even further into himself when the guys surrounding him laugh. „Clever Girl!“ Shion quips between heaves of laughter, bracing himself against an also-snickering-Mucho who adds „What if it was an accident?“. Ran only shakes his head, face and neck ablaze with red as he puffs himself up against the humiliation. „She looked me dead in the eye and reversed!“ Laughter bounces off the walls once again.

#x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #ran x reader #ran #ran haitani #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani #tr rindou #tenjiku #tenjiku x reader #tr ran #tokyo rev x you #tokrev #tokyo manji revengers #tr content

840 notes · View notes

hanbinics · 2 months ago

Text

✧.* BINNIE'S BOO FEST | DAY 02.

HALLOWEEN '24 [based off these prompts]

october has always been your favorite month of the year. you’ve always argued that absolutely nothing can beat the crisp autumn air, pumpkin spice invading everyone’s homes, and the excitement of halloween just around the corner—at least, that’s how it usually is.

this year, however, brings a sense of nostalgia. it’s the saturday before halloween and usually you would be with chris talking about anything you still needed for your party. since high school, you and your best friend have thrown a halloween party together, it becoming a tradition and a fun way to get everyone together, especially as you’ve gotten older. maybe it was naïve of you to think it would carry on forever, but you liked to believe that in order for one of you to back out, it would have to be for something really important.

turns out, quite a few things become more important—college, new friends, new relationships, and life in general. you’d noticed over the last few months that it’s been harder to catch any quality time shared between you and chris, which you think might be the reason why you were even more excited for fall’s arrival knowing that most of the season has always been occupied by activities with one of your favorite people.

now, though, you just feel silly. it’s like a slap in the face to be standing in the middle of a craft store in search of decoration inspiration for halloween, knowing you’ll be doing it alone this year. just as your fingers are brushing over a few plastic pumpkins, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. when you fish it out of your pocket, your eyes glance over the text message previewed on the screen.

chris: hey. busy tonight?

you hesitate for a moment before replying, vaguely wondering why he’s asking since you haven’t spoken to him in a few weeks.

no, why?

he doesn’t answer your question, instead sending back a vague “good” in response that you don’t reply to, entirely confused. you decide to put it out of your mind, your gaze only briefly glancing over the pumpkins again before you’re leaving the craft store entirely, no longer in much of a mood to think about how you’re going to decorate your dorm room by yourself this year.

it's not until you’re pulling into the parking lot of your dorm building that your phone goes off again, only this time it’s a phone call. when you see that it’s chris again, you frown in confusion, your thumb tapping the green button before pressing the device to your ear as you struggle to get out of the car with your bag.

before you can even greet him, or ask why he’s calling, the brunette is huffing into the phone. “thought you said you weren’t busy, kid. where the hell are you?”

your head jerks back slightly in surprise and maybe a little irritation at the fact that he’s questioning your whereabouts. you could ask him where he’s been for the last few weeks, but you don’t really feel like arguing.

“i’m just getting home, chris,” you say in response, your tone a bit clipped. you make your way into the building, grateful for once that you live on the first floor. “why? do you need something?” you suddenly feel a little bad, wondering if something is going on, if he’s okay.

but when you hear him snort on the other end of the line, you roll your eyes. “’m fine, kid. look up.”

immediately your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but you listen to him anyway—only to realize that he’s standing right in front of your dorm room. he’s grinning at the look on your face as you get closer, but your gaze immediately falls to his occupied arms full of orange lights, fake cobwebs, and plastic pumpkins. when you look up at him again, his smile only widens.

“don’t look so surprised. didn’t think i was gonna let ya’ decorate on your own, did you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, but when he notices the way you purse your lips, he snorts. “fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right? you’re short as shit, kid, y’won’t be able to reach nothin’. now open the door, my arms are gettin’ tired.”

you can’t help the smile that threatens your mouth as you open the door for him, his blunt teasing doing nothing to calm the gentle thud of your heart in your chest. it stays like that for the rest of the night, chris teasing you here and there as you decorate the inside of your dorm together before settling down in a fort of blankets and pillows with hot chocolate clutched in your cold palms, hocus pocus playing on the tv.

your arm is pressed against chris’s, his warmth radiating around you like your own personal heater in the calm, cozy atmosphere of your dark room. you find yourself looking at him just as he takes a sip from his mug, admiring the sharp cut of his jaw and his side profile, something unfamiliar but pleasant settling in the heart of your stomach. when he catches you looking at him, a blush creeps up your neck.

“quit starin’ at me,” he huffs shortly. “movie’s the other way, kid,” he tells you sarcastically, but you can’t help but smile.

“thank you for coming tonight,” you tell him quietly instead, still looking at him despite the way his blue eyes remain focused on the tv. “i know it’s probably not as fun as a party, but it means a lot to me.” you feel incredibly sentimental in the moment even though you’re well aware of the fact that chris hates getting vulnerable in any way, shape, or form.

it’s why you don’t expect an answer from him, instead just pressing deeper into his side, your head coming to rest against his upper arm and part of his shoulder as you finally listen to him and focus again on the movie playing.

chris can’t help but be grateful that you miss the ghost of a smile on his face as you cuddle into him. he’s never really given a shit about throwing the halloween parties, but it’s been worth it every year to see the way you light up at every single one, to witness the cute little costumes you pick out, and more than anything, just to spend his time with you. but he lets the truth linger on his tongue as his body warms in every space you occupy.

this, by far, is his favorite halloween.

©hanbinics

: ̗̀➛ tag list: @blahbel668, @zay-sturns

: ̗̀➛ divider by @/riottsrph

#©hanbinics #✧.* binnie's boo fest #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo drabble #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo fluff

89 notes · View notes

sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year ago

Note

i absolutely love the prompt you have "I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night" cause major swiftie and I will only read that like she says it in stay stay stay so can you pretty please to conrad x reader with that prompt when you get the chance tysm take ur time

Silly little one I forgot I started writing a week ago

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The best relationship advice your mother ever gave to you was that you should never leave a fight unresolved or go to bed mad at each other. You and Conrad had been pretty good at doing that…until last night.

To be fair, the whole situation had everyone on edge.

After his exam, you and Conrad emptied his dorm and hit the road. He had slept less than five hours last night so you kindly offered to drive while he caught up on sleep. Everything was going well, until you accidentally took a wrong turn and ended up in a totally different place. You tried to get back on the right road, but panicked when you couldn’t figure a way…then Conrad woke up, grumpy and still tired, and started criticizing your driving skills.

To add to the situation, rain and thunder decided to join you. A little rain and thunder didn’t scare Conrad, but they decided to close the highway, forcing the two of you to stay at a motel for the night.

You showered and changed out of your wet clothes, while Conrad did his own thing. When you came out, he was there, in his pajamas, taking out extra blankets from the closet and setting them on the floor.

Getting what he was doing, you stopped him. ‘’You’re not sleeping on the floor. Don’t be ridiculous.’’

You had a fight, but you weren’t that mad at him. He just struck a nerve.

Conrad's tired eyes met yours, but he didn’t say anything as he moved his pillow to the bed. He drew back the covers and laid down, his back turned to you.

A knot formed in your stomach, hurt, and you turned off the lamp, plunging the room in the dark without exchanges of ‘goodnight’s. Rare were the occasions where you and Conrad were sharing a bed and alone, but instead of taking advantage of it, you were caught in an uncomfortable silence where neither of you found sleep.

You tried to close your eyes, but couldn’t. So you listened to the loud rumbles of thunder and the tapping of the rain until your eyes couldn’t stay open.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, Conrad spoke.

‘’What I said earlier, I didn’t mean it,’’ he said in the quiet of the room, knowing you weren’t asleep either. ‘’I’m sorry. You’re not the worse driver I know.’’

A tired smile twisted on your lips...and you felt yourself drifting to sleep.

When you woke up, the morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the motel room. The rain from last night had finally subsided, meaning you’ll be able to get back on the road and go home.

Beside you, Conrad was still sleeping. You watched him for a moment, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his dark hair fell over his forehead. It might sound dumb, but you missed him.

You heard a muffled groan, getting excited as Conrad slowly stirred. His eyes blinked open, struggling to adjust to the daylight coming from the window, and you chuckled. You didn’t think of drawing the curtains all the way last night.

‘’Morning,’’ you greeted with a soft smile, brushing hair from his face.

"I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night," he said, his voice a little deeper from sleep.

You rolled your eyes. ‘’You’re exaggerating.’’

Conrad sighed, looking up at the stucco ceiling. ‘’We had this big fight over something so stupid—’’

‘’Real relationships are not perfect, Con. Even the ones who seem perfect aren’t. They fight with their partners and that’s totally normal. We’re not gonna break up because I didn’t pay enough attention and took a wrong turn. That’s ridiculous.’’

There was a silent pause, then Conrad laughed.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti @lomlolivia @5sosbands @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @a-band-aid-for-your-heart @gilbertscurls @brandirouse86 @leilani-nichole @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr @bchindureyes @bellysbeach @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @foockingasshole @straberryshortcake143 @luiise

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher fanfic #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty

962 notes · View notes

roguishcat · 26 days ago

Text

A sound judgement

Thank you so much @pursuitseternal for your request and for giving me this prompt (Magistrate Astarion AU, where he was never turned)! This was an absolute delight to write, even if it took me a while to actually get done. Hope you enjoy it!

Excerpt:

And this was when Astarion remembered that he was, in fact, the law and you had no choice but to obey him. A small voice in the back of his mind chose to remind him how badly this could backfire. Astarion chose not to heed the warnings of said voice and immediately began plotting.

Word count: 5.1k

Pairing: Astarion x female Reader

Tags: some suggestive themes, Astarion being a menace to society, Astarion being a brat, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff

❤️Love it? Hate it? Tell me what you think! ❤️

If you want to be added to my taglist, feel free to send me a message or leave a comment!

The afternoon sunlight brushed warmly against your cheek as you enjoyed a rare moment of peace. Instead of running around Baldur's Gate, fixing buildings, helping those in need, the Hero of the Gate for once decided to read a newspaper in a park. Something quite mundane for some, a rare luxury for you.

You were not slacking. But you have come to realise that in your bid to please everyone you would soon completely burn out. Which is why you didn’t feel a smidge of guilt when you found yourself going to Bloomridge park instead of the Upper City.

Not having to make any decisions and just simply be for an hour felt absolutely heavenly. Children played, the members of the book club gossiped, and couples whispered among themselves. This was exactly what you loved about this city. No matter how much havoc was wrought, Baldur's Gate healed rapidly and would soon be back to its former glory.

You cast your eyes over the articles in the newspaper. Nothing special, thank the gods. Just silly gossip and the like. You quickly looked through it and gave a happy sigh. No news was always good news in your books!

Yet, no matter how pleasant this little break was, you were well aware that your assistance was needed at ten odd locations today. It was time to get back to work.

Getting up, you looked at the newspaper in your hands and decided that perhaps someone would enjoy reading it. Afterall, there was hardly any reason for you to take the paper with you. And leaving it behind would probably save some poor apprentice a copper. Thus assured that you were doing no harm, you folded the newspaper up neatly and set it down on the park bench for another to enjoy.

Just as you were about to walk away, you heard someone clear their throat loudly.

"What do you think you are doing?"

It was one of the Fists. You didn't recognise him. Perhaps it was a new recruit, seeing as otherwise he would have known who you were.

"Excuse me?"

"You are littering," he stated, pointing to the newspaper with an accusatory finger.

Ah, so a simple misunderstanding.

"I am not littering,” you smiled pleasantly, in spite of feeling that it was rather strange of the Fist to worry about something as inconsequential as litter out of all things. “Just thought someone else might enjoy reading the paper now that I'm done with it."

The Fist did not look impressed by your explanation. In fact, if anything he seemed even more set in his belief that a heinous crime was being committed in broad daylight.

"I am arresting you for littering in a public garden," he seemed to think about it for a moment. "And for arguing with a city guard."

"I've hardly said any-"

"Resisting arrest, are we?" he drawled, making your mouth tighten as you bit back a snarky retort.

"No, I will come with you willingly," you grumbled.

Perhaps if you played along for a bit, you could talk to someone of a higher rank. Saying anything to an overly eager guard who was obstinately sticking to his accusations would just attract onlookers.

"Good. The judge is waiting for your arrival."

"What? What do you mean judge?" you frowned. What business did any judge have looking into misdemeanours and especially something like littering?

"His Honor Judge Ancunín is waiting for you. Don't dawdle. It's rude to keep him waiting."

Suddenly all of this made sense. You ground your teeth and followed the Fist. Of course it was Astarion! That ass!

"Oh, trust me. Him waiting for me will be the least of his worries once I see him."

You felt that you had every right to be annoyed at Astarion. No scratch that. You had every right to be livid and spitting fire! Because this was the fourth time that bastard got you arrested in a little more than a month! And every single bloody time if was for something dumb and trivial. You had no idea how Astarion managed to do it, how he knew exactly where you would be, and how he convinced those Fists that he was to be the judge handling your case.

That stupid, stupid ass!

He couldn’t just come by the tavern and talk to you like someone normal. No, he needed a show of power, especially with him being promoted to judge in high court! Because apparently this was how Astarion got his kicks nowadays. He needed for you to be near forcibly escorted to the courtroom and thrown at his feet. Preferably pleading for mercy and asking him if there was any way that you could make it up to him.

You scowled. The whole scenario just sounded like the plot of some cheap, third-rate smutty novel one would pick up at Sharess'. But if he thought that you would cower before him, that elf had another thing coming!

On the other side of the city, Astarion Ancunín was drumming his fingers against some book he was supposedly reading. Astarion was in a foul mood. It's been several months since the defeat of the Absolute. He and the merry band that defeated the cultists were celebrated just as you deserved for about a tenday, and then went back to your lives. Halsin was immediately off with his wagonfuls of brats, Gale returned to Waterdeep, Shadowheart went to live with her parents in the countryside, Wyll and Karlach waged war in Avernus whilst Lae’zel sought to overthrow Vlaakith. In short, everyone left the city except you and Astarion. Well, Jaheira and Minsc were probably about, but he didn’t care about them enough to check.

For a while, Astarion enjoyed the privileges that came with the title of Savior of Baldur's Gate. The fame had him moving up the ranks with impressive speed until he was promoted from magistrate to judge. No more minor cases! Oh no, he was in the big leagues now. And he was so, so bored.

Astarion could hardly believe that this dull, bureaucratic crap was all he did for years until he got tadpoled. And in the past, he enjoyed it well enough. But having experienced the thrill of adventure, the rush of adrenalin, the drama and the fun of travelling, he could not fathom sitting at a desk for the rest of his long, long life.

Which was when he realised that the only acceptable source of entertainment was you. Except getting to you was easier said than done. Everyone wanted your time and, being the annoyingly selfless creature that you were, it was near impossible to find any window of opportunity and see you for longer than a few minutes. And by the gods Astarion wanted to.

You two shared a couple passionate encounters when you were on the road and decided that you were better of as friends. Well, at least you decided that. Astarion was not quite on board with the whole platonic thing, but with death literally being around every corner, he begrudgingly agreed that a budding romance was the last thing you both needed at the time.

And this was how the two of you became friends. Except Astarion wanted more, so much more. And herein lay the problem. He never in the past had to woo anyone. His good looks and roguish charms were generally enough to have everyone chasing after him. An interested look and a smirk would often be enough for his potential lovers to drop their pants fast.

But this tactic, if one could really call it that, didn’t actually work on you. And he tried showing his interest. Astarion invited you on outings and to parties. Afterall, there were soiree aplenty where he his resplendent beauty would definitely be reason enough for you to want to sneak away and spend some quality time in some secluded alcove. Except yoh would actually have to turn up for that to happen.

Not deterred, Astarion tried sending you gifts and you sent him something equally pleasant back. Which he interpreted as 'thanks for the present, but not for the interest'. This had him gritting his teeth in annoyance but surprisingly not giving up.

Because he wanted, and craved and yearned. He wanted nothing more than sequester you in his rooms and not allow you to leave for weeks. Or until he felt that he fucked that whole ‘friendship’ idea out of your mind.

So he abused his power in every way, had you arrested time and time again, dragged through the city and thrown into prison to await his judgement. You should have been flattered really that he went to all that trouble simply to arrange a meeting. Honestly, most wanted nothing more than to have a passing glance from him, when you had the entirety of his attention!

Except something seemed different this time. When you walked into the courtroom and levelled him with a look previously reserved for your enemies, Astarion wondered if perhaps his plan was not quite as foolproof as he had thought.

But it was too late to back out. He assumed a sort of casually reclining bored noble position and waited for the Fist to read out what you were being charged with.

It was a surprisingly long list. Perhaps Astarion should have chosen a less zealous guard.

As each wrongdoing was reported to him, Astarion couldn’t help but worry about the way your face darkened by the minute as your eyes shot daggers. He was quite sure that it would have been actual steel piercing his flesh by now if it weren’t for all those witnesses.

“Enough,” he lifted his arm with an imperious look, making the Fist pause, only half-done with his report.

“Your Honor?”

“I see that this matter does indeed require my special attention. Yet, seeing as this is the Hero of the Gate,” he paused for dramatic effect noting with annoyance that this seemed to have the desired effect only on the scribe, the Fist and whatever staff were about rather than you, “I may be persuaded to lift the charges.”

“How generous of you…. Your Honor,” you said in a reverent tone that contradicted your face expression.

Astarion gulped, to his confusion feeling both concerned and aroused.

"Well,” he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, “I am nothing but generous."

"Of course. And earnest too!" you nodded. “Why, I am sure that your impartial perspective will allow you to deliver an objective verdict-"

"You forget yourself!” Astarion cut you off abruptly. He rather enjoyed your insolence, but appearances had to be kept up. “Justice should be a harsh lesson. To make sure that no such offense occurs in the future. I ought to administer the punishment where you stand. Make an example of you."

"Well, what are you waiting for, your Honour?” You leaned forward slightly and lowered your voice. “Punish me as you see fit."

Astarion thanked every god he could think of at that moment that he was required to wear loose fitting robes. Because he was already half-mast and carrying on with this conversation would eventually make his problem rather obvious to all present. That would be the Fist, the mages, the scribe, and whoever else was milling about that he generally did not notice. Wholly unacceptable.

"Do follow me, no guards required, thank you."

"But- but your Honor!” the Fist stammered, clutching the report to his chest. “What if she tries to assault you!"

"Trust me, I am perfectly capable of handling this one."

He pretended not to notice you rolling your eyes, motioning for you to follow as he started for his office.

You made your way down the long, winding halls, quite sure that you would be lost if it wasn’t for Astarion. Every now and then the surface of the walls would ripple, and a clerk would emerge from the depths of a secret passage and shuffle past, head bowed and curling in on themselves, only to sink into the opposite wall. If you were to press your fingertips against the surface, you were sure that you would find solid stone.

The narrow hallway widened and you walked into what appeared to be the archive, shelves filled with scrolls, stone tablets and books. A veritable cornucopia of every kind of crime carefully recorded and catalogued over centuries. You scowled as you thought of how your supposedly atrocious crimes were among the entries.

You walked up two flights of stairs and finally reached the door to what seemed to be Astarion’s office. The elf opened the door and stood aside, letting you walk in first. You scoffed and pushed past him, making a show of flicking your hair in his face. Astarion drew back a little with a grin, anticipating you doing something so childish.

The door clicked closed behind you and immediately magic hummed to life.

"Arcane Lock? Really?" you arched an eyebrow.

"Just so we don't get disturbed, dearest."

Your eyes followed Astarion as he walked around his desk and sat in the beautifully upholstered chair. Just like everything else in his office, it looked eye-wateringly expensive and imported.

"How may I help you on this fine day?" he motioned for you to take a seat on the other side of the desk.

"How may you-"

You cut yourself off and took a few deep breaths before you said something terse that would get thrown into prison. Again. You took a seat, noticing immediately that your chair looked much less comfortable. Trust Astarion to make his company squirm in their seats.

"Astarion, I think-"

"Your Honor," he corrected you with a smirk.

"Fine, whatever! Tell me, oh great Judge Ancunín, ignoring the abuse of power, the made up charges and you potentially bribing the city guard into arresting me, what are you actually hoping to get out of this, hm?"

Astarion took off his glasses and started polishing them with careful, unhurried movements. Outwardly he was the epitome of calm and grace, the one in charge. Inwardly, however, he didn’t have a clue what to do now that he had your full, undivided attention.

Because eloquence in the courtroom apparently did not translate into eloquence with you. Astarion was kind of hoping that you would just somehow fall into his arms and then the two of you would forget about the battle of wits in favour of something far more engaging. But apparently you wanted a real, honest answer. And that would be tricky seeing as he didn’t know how to put what he felt into words.

The silence stretched, tensions high, your patience almost at its end.

"Do you know what? Fine,” you spat, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don't answer that. It was stupid of me to think that you would treat me as a friend. I'm just going to pay a fine or whatever else I have to do and be out of your hair. You obviously have better things to do around here than talk to my lowly self."

"I never wanted to be your friend,” he interjected, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

"Well," you cleared your throat, annoyed at yourself for feeling hurt by his words. "You've made that plenty obvious."

Understanding that you misinterpreted his words, Astarion quickly grasped your sleeve as you prepared to rise.

"I- I am not sure exactly what I want,” he frowned, looking down at the polished wood of his desk. “I have very little experience of wanting to be around others for the sake of enjoying their company. Getting acquainted with someone was always done with one purpose in mind, to climb the social ladder until I came out on top," he gave a little high-pitched laugh, running his fingers through his hair to brush it back.

"So when it comes to you, my dear, the last thing I want is to be your friend,” he took a deep breath, letting go of your sleeve to interlace his fingers to stop himself from fidgeting. “I have never wanted to be just friends with anyone less in my life.”

“And I don't know what you are to me,” he took a breath to summon the courage to carry on. “But when I look at you, I ache. We are good together. There is a potential for... something wonderful,” he did look up then, eyes locking with yours. “And I want to find out what that is, if you want that too."

You were stunned, momentarily speechless. Looking at him as if you were seeing him properly for the first time. Because it has been so long since you've seen that raw, earnest expression on his face. Body language filling in whatever blanks that were left behind by words.

"Oh hells, say something," he pleaded and put his hands on top of yours.

And then you were in his lap and your lips were on his, because you would be lying to yourself if you did anything but kiss him at that moment.

"You are still an ass," were the first words out of your mouth when you broke apart.

"Yes, dear," he kissed you jaw and then down your neck.

"I can't believe you had me arrested!"

"And I probably will again if you take days to answer my letters or otherwise ignore me," Astarion was already done with the ties of your outer clothing, discarding them by throwing them carelessly somewhere behind you.

"Do you know how embarrassing it was to be escorted to the courthouse? I bet newspapers will have a field day with this!"

"And any journalist who writes a word about this will be brought before me."

You tried to get his robes off him but were having trouble with the diamond encrusted broach holding the cravat in place.

"Argh, why do you insist on decorating yourself with all of these useless baubles!"

"Well, someone has to support the local businesses. You do your bit to see Baldur's Gate restored, I do mine."

"Oh, shut up," you laughed, finally getting a glimpse of his chest and running your hands down soft skin with a sigh.

"Feeling happier dear?"

You felt a breeze on your shoulders and then Astarion's hands cupped your breasts.

"No, I'm still annoyed at you."

"Well then I must double my efforts."

Clerks scuttled about the endless, winding halls, each wanting to impress their superiors.

A loud thump was heard, and a tremor reverberated throughout the building, making the panes of glass zing in protests.

A young human clerk gasped, "What in the hells is going on?"

"Judge Ancunín is questioning the Hero of Baldur's Gate," another replied with a yawn, seemingly not worried.

"This sounded bad, do you think he will need a hand?"

"What, ya mean since his own hands are full?"

The other clerks tittered, picking up scrolls and putting them back on the shelves.

"Oi, stop being mean to the newbie!" someone called from a distance.

"Or be even more of an ass and let him barge in, that would be even more entertaining," a tiefling chortled without looking up from his scroll.

"So, no one is in danger?" He said slowly, not really sure whether he was meant to ignore whatever was going on during an interrogation.

"Nope, in fact, I'm pretty sure that next couple of days are going to be easy," the tiefling took another scroll and added it to the pile in front of him.

Another tremor went through the building, making an ink pot fall off the desk.

"What do you think is going on there?" the young clerk whispered to the co-worker that seemed fairly friendly, unlike the rest.

"Aw crap, don't tell me that no one explained the birds and the bees to you yet?"

"Oh. Oh!" He gasped, a blush dusting his cheeks as realisation set in.

A halfling carrying thick tomes past his desk stage-whispered to no one in particular, "This one is not the sharpest quill, right?"

"Shit! Code Arsehole! Judge Buttershed is in our wing!"

An elf burst in, every head turning in his direction. The clerks stopped laughing, one hurrying down the hall towards Judge Ancunín’s office whilst the rest got to work with impressive speed.

"Why are you even covering for Judge Ancunín?"

The tiefling rolled his eyes at the newbie but graciously chose to reply.

"Because in spite of his eccentric ways and borderline obsession with the Hero of the Gate, he is the best we've had in years! Do you want to have to rewrite all your scrolls because your handwriting is neither here nor there?"

"Gods, do you remember the 'no use of magic above Level 1 in governmental buildings’?"

"Pft, that was nothing,” a handsome elf with long hair put up in a severe, tight chignon scoffed. “I heard they used to have gremishkas just to make sure no one used magic on site.”

"He's here!"

Most would not understand what the commotion was even about. To a casual observer, Judge Buttershed would appear fairly unremarkable. Just a short, portly man with a sweaty face and capricious expression whose spectacles were woefully unfashionable even a century ago. His whole demeanour screamed that he disliked everyone in this room immensely and could not wait to go back to his wing, where according to him things were still done the right way, and settle into his chair in his office.

"I heard that Ancunín was late for court yesterday. Again. Although, judging by the disorder I see here,” he boomed, a little spittle flying forth, “this is of little surprise. Therefore, I feel it is my duty to give him a stern talk."

"Considering his status, your Honour, is that wise?”

Judge Buttershed looked down his nose at the half-elf who dared contradict him.

“Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do? I will make sure to fire you first once Ancunín is out of here,” he pointed a fat finger at the clerk.

Expecting to see fear and reverence in forest-green eyes and finding neither, he cursed under his breath and made his way down the hall, muttering to himself and shooting hard looks at whoever happened to cross his path.

Thus assured that he was doing the only thing that would save Baldur’s Gate judicial system from collapse, Buttershed burst through the doors, all righteous anger, ready to deliver his judgement. Only to find his rival and the Hero of the Gate sipping tea, engaged in amicable conversation.

“Oh? To what do I owe the honour Buttershed?” Astarion quirked a brow. “What was important enough for you to barge into my office without making an appointment with my secretary?”

“Don’t you dare talk to me that way, you- you- charlatan! You know full well that you have no business sullying these halls with your disgusting presence!”

“Astarion? Who is this? I will make sure to mention him the next time I pay a visit to Duke Ravengard,” your voice was pleasant enough but the look you levelled the intruder with spoke volumes. “In fact, I was going to call on Ulder tomorrow. Luckily, with us being old friends and all, I hardly need to bother to make an appointment!”

Judge Buttershed was defeated, and he knew it. Whilst he was prepared to take on Ancunín, feeling that he could successfully make a case and prove that the elf committed professional misconducts, the Supreme Marshall of the Flaming Fists was not someone to trifle with. Bidding his farewells to you only, he left the room in a flurry of silk and barely concealed complaints muttered under his breath.

“Now, my dear. That was most impressive,” Astarion purred, taking a sip of tea.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you shrugged, picking out a particularly scrumptious-looking biscuit and happily crunching on it. And then selecting one more, wondering if Astarion would mind terribly if you took the rest with you.

“I mean, you accuse yours truly, saying that I abuse my power. But are you any better?” he set his cup aside to place a kiss on the corner of your lips, your cheek and under your jaw. “It’s nice to know that the heroes are as bad as the rest of us.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Astarion,” you popped the biscuit into your mouth with a smile. “Now then, I must leave. Seeing as I missed most of my appointments for today and have to reschedule, don’t expect to see me for a while.”

His hands tightened round your middle, head resting in the crook of your neck.

“Must you leave?”

“For now. But I will make sure to come by in the next few days or so, okay? I miss you when I’m not around you,” you admitted, looking at him from underneath long lashes. “But there is so much to be done still… I feel selfish. For feeling so happy.”

Ah. And that was your most vexing quality that he exploited so readily when you first started travelling together. Your damnable selflessness. He loved you for it. He hated that you extended it to others.

Astarion sighed into your shoulder and withdrew. You felt the absence of his warmth so acutely that it took all your willpower to turn around and walk out of his door at that moment.

Astarion got you arrested on five more occasions before he finally summoned the courage to ask you to move in with him. Not for any particular reason. You were barely home as it was, so did it really matter which space you cluttered up with your armour and such? Which corner you tossed your boots in at the end of a long, tiring day?

Astarion, of course, being quite meticulous, made sure to organise your things for you. He began by colour-coding your undergarments drawer. To which he got a mixed response, considering he expected nothing but enthusiasm and gratitude.

A year into you living together, Astarion tossed a book onto your shared bed with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Dearest, I got you this. Considering you might not have enough reading material.”

“The ‘Court of Love’? Let me guess, you saw the title of this smutty little number and just couldn’t pass by?”

“Something like that. Would you indulge me by reading out a passage or two whilst I get ready to retire for the night?”

You narrowed your eyes. Something seemed off.

“What are you up to, Astarion?”

“My love! Your suspicions wound me!” Astarion crawled onto the bed and leaned against the bedframe.

You didn’t trust him for one second, but decided to play along for now, being a little curious yourself.

“The culprit was dragged in front of the magistrate. Her heavy breasts heaving with every laboured breath, nipples erect and pointing in his direction… Oh gods, this is terrible!” you chortled, making yourself comfortable and putting your head on Astarion’s bare chest.

“Isn’t it? Go on then, I want to hear what happens next,” he grinned, twirling a strand of your hair around his long fingers.

You giggled and turned the page.

“The magistrate rose in one swift movement, his eyes flashing and muscles flexing. He moved slowly, a predator circling his prey. Her eyes followed him, heart hammering as he breasts rose and fell with every breath, her nipples- What is with this writer and nipples?” you rolled your eyes.

“Hot, isn’t it?”

Astarion was clearly having a whale of a time, though he seemed to be familiar with the text, his attention directed at you, as if wanting to make sure he caught every reaction, every expression.

“Are the nipples meant to be moving around so much? They could be out there directing foot traffic! I’m guessing that you picked this up at Sharess’?”

“Indeed, I did! And who are you to judge the quality of this book!” Astarion said with an air of a mother defending her child. “I’ll have you know, it was sold out in hours! I worked hard to get my hands on this copy!”

Then something clicked in your mind. You read the next two pages quickly.

“Magistrate Arunin and the Hero of the Coast? Astarion, is this based on us?” you looked at the cover at the book to check the name of the author. And sure enough, it was the Fist that arrested you for littering and then two more times after that.

“I’m going to kill him!” you growled, throwing the book on the floor. “And I don’t mean that in a cutesy way. I mean I will literally run my sword through him,” you pushed against Astarion’s chest. The elf gripped you tighter to stop you from leaving, as you were clearly intent on making good on your promise in spite of the late hour.

“Being a slave to the quill is truly a dangerous profession these days,” Astarion laughed, flipping you over and manoeuvring you so swiftly that you felt a little dizzy until he had you pinned against the bed.

“Now, whilst that murderous glint in your eyes is truly fetching, I think our energies would be better spent on each other rather than on some writer. Besides,” he went on, popping button after button open and pulling your shirt open slowly, fingers trailing along your skin, “I hear that he is planning on writing a sequel. And I find myself eager to read what depraved adventures the magistrate and the hero will get up to.”

Your words of outrage were quickly cut of by insistent lips as Astarion kissed you, tongue darting out through the smallest opening in his mouth to coax your own to open. And then there was no more talking, just groans and sighs, and gasps and moans.

As night bled into morning and you were fast asleep, Astarion congratulated himself on his usual practical sagacity, as once again his sound judgement resulted in an outcome most pleasant. Perhaps you were not keen on his brilliant plan at first, but you had no reasons to complain about his ways of going about getting what he wanted now.

And thus assured that he was always right, Astarion pulled you closer and closed his eyes, allowing himself to rest.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #fanfic #astarion fanfiction #fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion x you

104 notes · View notes

ipegchangbin · 2 years ago

Text

— smudgeproof

sub!model!felix x dom!makeup artist!reader

There’s a new lipstick that claims to be make-out-proof. You, with your makeup expertise, naturally decide to test it on your model boyfriend, Felix: except he’s the one that gets to wear it.

🏷 gender neutral afab reader (they/them pronouns, no specifics), smut, fluff, some humor, established relationship, porn with barely any plot.

🏷 petnames “mommy” and “baby girl,” unprotected sex, feminization kink, slight oral and hand fixation, marking, butt plug (felix using), thigh riding, fingering (felix receiving), overstimulation, male squirting, lots of teasing, voyeurism mention, no specifics about y/n’s physique.

w/c: 8.8k

a/n: happy (hopefully not late) valentine’s day! to celebrate, i finally present to you the long overdue felix-gets-fucked fic! based on my thought piece, this concept has been on my mind ever since. i kept rewriting this fic but i drew the header art so fast LMAO icb i finished it!! otherwise, enjoy!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

On slow days, you would often find yourself bored in the makeup store. Your boyfriend, Lee Felix, would probably be just as bored, sitting in the chair of his set. Your notifications were as empty as the barren shop.

After two aimless scrolls down your Instagram feed, you realized that you hadn’t posted anything recently and hadn’t texted Felix that day.

The afternoon sun brought in waves of humid air throughout the city, setting everyone back from a trip around the shops. You peered over at the conversation with your boyfriend as you thought about ways to kill time.

It wasn’t uncommon to go for a while without contacting each other. It had been years since you two became official, after all, and comfortable silence had become a given that you both simply indulged in. That didn’t take your mind off of the boredom, though, and your fingers itched to do something. They found Felix’s contact on your phone, bedazzled with an embarrassing nickname and profile picture.

It stung to think that if you weren’t looking at his endearing profile, you would instead settle for some sort of creeping guilt of not posting anything on your social media page after a while. Either way, you shot him a message.

you: lix, wya? you: im bored as hell

Considering Felix’s work as a professional model, he would probably reply in less than ten minutes. You thought to turn your phone off and play with the freshly-cleaned makeup brushes on the makeup store’s vanity counter while waiting.

But this is Lee Felix, the sunshine of your days, and you didn’t have to wait any longer than two seconds.

lixie: Am at the shoot I told u about lixie: Bored too tbh LOL

Even if he typed in a silly way, you couldn’t help but love him.

He’d always been your go-to person to unwind and be yourself around. Starting as best friends gave you both a jumpstart to be comfortable around the other. People would say it worked a little too well especially since you two had become the most seriously unserious couple in the creative industry.

That fact made him understand you more than anyone else: you were both creatives. Your heart belonged to the artistic liberties of makeup and beauty, while his heart belonged to the ethereal realm of modeling and fashion. Your two hearts found each other, which was almost perfect for the adjacent businesses. He collaborated with you on makeup challenges. You came to his sets as his “preferred makeup artist.” He understood you whenever you ranted about stupid trends and declining engagement in your channels.

With that, could tell him about your uneventful day and equally uneventful social media pages, but you refrained from complaining more than dropping a passing mention.

you: idrk what to do there are no customers you: and i havent posted anything new you: but its not like theres much to do lixie: Well you’re the genius one here! lixie: Got art block or something?

The prompt response caught you off guard. Almost as if you have forgotten, this was Felix, and he always sensed whenever something was wrong.

As if he had some sort of radar or emotion detector, he always just knew how you were. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had always been in the proximity of your face, observing your concentration as you put eyeliner on him before shooting. Maybe that connection stuck with him after years of being together, and it had remained strong to the point that he could feel it from miles away, staring emptily into the face of some other random MUA.

Alas, you found yourself overthinking again. You would rather overthink about your relationship than your semi-abandoned creative efforts, though.

you: well i guess you can call it that. im just conscious since i havent really posted you: idk what to do next. ive done everything lixie: How about, “Boyfriend does my makeup drunk edition”? :D you: boring ! lixie: “Makeup tut but bf does my voiceover”? :D you: just because it got views doesnt mean its worth doing a fifth time >:(( lixie: I’m kidding LOL

The scowl on your face reflected on the mirror sitting in front of you. You knew that if only Felix saw it right now, he would have lost his mind trying to turn it upside down.

You were right though. You two did everything.

My boyfriend does my makeup? Done, and he did an okay job at it. “The boy beat” makeup tutorial featuring Felix? Damn right he did. Boyfriend does my voiceover? It was so good that you guys did it four times and everyone fell in love with the deep timbre of his voice contrasted with his surprising amount of knowledge. Even if it was easy to collaborate with him, it was hard to create something new and unique. On the contrary, your audience fell in love with you two. It’s nice to watch a model and a stylist practice their art together.

Lost for ideas, you decided just to tease him instead.

lixie: So? No ideas in that pretty head? you: i got one thing in mind lixie: And what might that be? you: having you here you: in my arms you: to kiss up and call pretty :>

It was a thing that you usually did since you loved how he always reacted so pricelessly. He didn’t disappoint with his response, the notifications popping up not even half a minute after your last message.

lixie: HNDNSABNNDJS lixie: Don’t tease me unprompted!! lixie: ;__;

You’re so grateful that he’s always up to play with you.

You thought deeply — too deeply for a situation like this — and scanned the store shelves and storage room for ideas.

You wondered what he would be up to right now.

Felix was stunned.

Done-up in the most expensive face and hairstyle he’s rocked to date, adorned with an unbuttoned suit jacket that one could only dream to wear, he was supposed to look like the stunner. His pecs were only barely hidden and the midsection of his upper body was almost entirely exposed.

Instead, he was the speechless one. He wasn’t shocked by the cold air seeping through his revealing outfit, but his hair raised at your messages.

Your teasing usually should not affect him this much, but today, it was something different. The whole day, all he could think about was you. His mind went to your first meeting. Earlier, he got deja vu as one of the stylists applied lipstick on him. It felt familiar, the feeling of a senior stylist’s hand resting on his face as a brush glided along the perimeter of his mouth. All it lacked was the stunning view of your face in particular. It reminded him of the first time you ever laid eyes on him, and it was to check on his eyeshadow. You stared at each other for too long, exchanged numbers after the shoot, and the rest was history.

He was pissed, to say the least, that you weren’t the assigned stylist for the shoot this time. Nothing could ever compare to the focused look you gave him as you fixed the corners of his mouth with the smooth swipe of your pinky finger.

He craved that touch again.

“Yo,” a dragged-out sigh whisked through the air. “You’ll catch a fly in your mouth if you keep that jaw open.”

Felix looked up from his phone to find Hyunjin, his best friend and one of the junior photographers on set, eyeing his reflection in the mirror. He had his bleached blond hair half-up, tied messily to complete his so-called “intern look.” Most of the senior directors and photographers on set confused him for a model.

“Am I interrupting some kinda internal monologue sesh?” Hyunjin smiled, leaning behind Felix’s chair, raising a brow at him through the reflection.

“No, I just—”

“He’s thinking about Y/N again.” Jeongin, their other best friend, popped from behind the vanity, carrying Hyunjin’s abandoned camera.

The two were interns at the studio. Both were very bored art students looking for a job to pass the time by. Jeongin was there to work as a personal assistant and was mistaken for a stylist considering his fashion sense. His behavior around set proved otherwise, though, since he spent the entire day prodding at everyone’s business.

Felix was no exception as a victim.

“Imagine flirting online,” Hyunjin chuckled while reaching for the camera. Jeongin handed it out to him, only to swing his arm back, teasing the older.

Jeongin dismissed the frown on Hyunjin’s face and fiddled with the camera. “Yeah, cut your significant other some slack, they must be busy at the store or something,” he added.

“Nah, they aren’t.”

Hyunjin snagged the camera back. “Editing a Youtube video?”

“That’s exactly why they messaged me. They asked for ideas for a new video.” Felix sat back and redirected his eyes back to the conversation on his phone. The other two slowly turned their heads to each other.

“Wow! Did you hear that, Innie? They messaged him!” Hyunjin yelped.

“Lix didn’t message first? Unheard of!” Jeongin gasped.

“Cut it out, overdramatic cunts.” The accent made the last word roll off Felix’s tongue in a heavy and aggressive accent. “I want to help them this once. Shoo. Leave me be.”

“Oh, why are you getting all worked up, man?” The younger placed his hands on Felix’s shoulders and wiggled them.

Actually — why was he getting all worked up? Everything seemed off: he wasn’t the type to get annoyed easily like that.

He would have defended himself, but he thought it over. Not only had he been unusually sentimental while getting ready, but even as the day started, he was already rolling off to a rough start. He barely got out of bed, reaching out to you from the side and asking for longer morning cuddles specifically from you. He had been so clingy all day that the silence and afternoon heat killed him from looking forward to anything else but you.

A discussion brewed between the menaces as Felix thought about it. “Innie, you know, he couldn’t even hit the poses right. The director felt bad because our bro didn’t seem into it.”

Felix’s cheeks flushed upon hearing that. “No way, Hyune,” the other replied.

Oh god, Felix thought.

He swatted embarrassing thoughts away from his head to not get teased any further by his own friends. His thoughts — and something else — were hindering him from doing anything physically. The poor boy couldn’t even shift in his seat from embarrassment. It’s not that he didn’t want to physically fidget, he just couldn’t. His entire body froze, but he also just could not move by any means. It would be uncomfortable for him, and it wasn’t just because the clothes restricted him.

Something underneath his clothes would shift too and pierce his body with shockwaves. Before that could, though, his phone vibrated before he did.

you: babe! you: had a breakthrough so big i said eureka out loud in the store [you sent a photo]

Felix immediately opened the notifications and observed the sent messages. He opened the photo even before it loaded. When it did, he nearly melted in his seat.

You supposedly sent him a picture of a product that you found. By the looks of it, you probably thought of doing a product review of it, but that wasn’t the first impression he got from the picture. The first thing he saw was your face, winking with a toothy grin, your beautiful hand holding the product up next to your cheek.

God, you were all sorts of stunning to him.

lixie: OMHJYGOD YOUre so pretty you: dont look at me, silly! you: look at this lipstick. its so funny

For a moment, he didn’t listen. His eyes were still fixated on everything from your expression, to your features, to the nails that you just got done holding up the product. As if he had gone stupid, he had to blink and shake his head before formulating a reply that made sense.

lixie: LMFAOOOO THE NAME you: its not the name baby lixie: WHAT SHADE COLOR IS THAT LMAOOO you: the shade looks fine, look at the label! lixie: What’s it say you: the label claims its make-out proof lixie: ??!!! LOL

Of course, he didn’t make any sort of sense whatsoever. His two friends watched him frantically type away, barely being able to process anything from the mere sight of you.

“Bro’s deluded,” Jeongin whispered.

“Bro’s fucking horny,” Hyunjin commented, squinting at his friend.

you: you sound so funny baby you: anyway i was thinking i should review it you: but can you join me? i wanna try something

It felt like something broke inside of him. A shot of excitement ran through his system, hitting down until his core — oh shit that hurt.

He tried to twist his lower half again, fidgeting in his seat, but it grew harder for him to do so. With tears in his eyes, he jolted up, attempting to focus on the conversation.

lixie: Sure, what do you want me to do? lixie: Won’t you just do an application and wear test thing? you: mmm i guess u can say that you: but im making it a lil different lixie: How so?

The intrigue bit his tongue and Felix attempted to swallow it. The staff around him were wrapping up the shoot, pushing equipment back in their places, and some started to leave as soon as the director announced the last “cut.” He, however, was glued to the vanity chair, shaking in anticipation.

you: im gonna put it on you baby <3

Felix’s eyes widened.

It didn’t matter how many times you placed makeup on him, nor did it matter how many times he joined you in your antics. There were too many things going on in his head that toyed with his thought process and everything that came with it. He didn’t exactly know why, but a knot formed in his stomach. He grew nervous and just knew that you were up to something sinister.

lixie: But how are we gonna do the wear test? I already got my face done and half the day has passed, I’m even done w my part of the shoot you: you dont get it ??? lixie: I don’t get it!! you: ill put it on you when you get here. and were not just testing how long it wears regularly, were testing what the label says you: ill be there in 10mins love you baby

He sat back, looked up from his phone, and his gaze zeroed in on his reflection, attempting to focus on the thought. How would you conduct a different kind of wear test? In terms of makeup, a wear test would simply be to spend a full day with the product on and to see if it still holds its place at the end of it. It had already been well past afternoon by that time and it wasn’t like there were many other things to do that could budge the lipstick aside from dinner. He always trusted your genius, but he knew that there was more to this.

Felix blinked, once, twice, and then stared.

Were you…going to test if it was really make-out proof?

The world around him seemed to dim — it did, since the studio lights were turning off and the senior stylists urged Jeongin to wake the model up from his short-circuiting brain to change out of the clothes.

That is if Felix could still respond before the horniness consumed him.

lixie: Wait lixie: Don’t tell me lixie: DON’T TELL ME lixie: You’ll test it by putting it on me lixie: AND THEN MAKE OUT WITH ME?????? [Read 2:50 PM] lixie: Y/N!!! Answer me!!! [Delivered, unread 2:51 PM]

The cogs in his head accelerated before banging to a full stop, clinks and clanks ringing through his ears at his very slow realization.

“Congrats, smartypants, you figured it out.” Hyunjin scoffed from behind him.

“Dude—wait, hey! Have you been watching me the whole time?!”

“You should be more secretive,” Jeongin giggled. “Get those privacy screen protectors or something. Now we know what poor Y/N has to deal with every day.”

“And stop getting your thoughts tangled in horny next time you text,” Hyunjin elbowed the poor model boy, fiddling with his camera as if nothing happened. “Don’t worry. Your secrets and online PDA are safe with us.”

Felix’s face was washed without color. His jaw hung open both at his friends’ antics and your devilish plans.

“I’m looking forward to that review,” Jeongin added before walking away, teasingly pushing Felix’s shoulder on the way out. “Not that I’ll use it or anything.”

The two friends left the set side-eyeing and giggling at Felix.

—

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to the studio to pick your boyfriend up.

“Hi, darling.” Felix’s greeting and nervous smile lit up the quiet air and darkness of your car. He got in the passenger seat and immediately leaned in to kiss your cheek.

He was trembling.

You had to laugh. “Hey, babe. What’s got you shaken up?”

“Long day.”

“That’s it?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Long because of you,” he said, scrunching his nose. “Kept teasing me.”

“Aw, don’t sulk, silly.” You cooed at him, “Save the pout for later, baby. We’re going home.”

Maybe it was the combination of inhaling your expensive signature scent and hearing the sound of your voice again that made him tingle all over. Maybe it had to do with the curling corners of your mouth that gave Felix all the information he needed in the world. Maybe it was the fact that you held the back of his seat as the car reversed, and the action looked undeniably sexy.

Felix lifted a leg to cross over the other, but it only ever made him look more uncomfortable throughout the entire car ride home. Though concerned, you didn’t point it out, and instead continued to drive.

His chest was heaving and he internally scolded himself for acting like a bitch in heat.

The both of you arrived home sooner than expected.

The tunes that you played earlier in the car ride home stuck in Felix’s head. He wondered if the song choice of a sultry voice singing about “wants and needs” was deliberate. It was your playlist, and if you intended to include subliminal messaging, then it worked like a charm on him.

He had been worked out to the point he couldn’t face you. The moment he laid eyes on you again in your apartment’s living room, he shied away almost immediately.

You caught his averting gaze, though, and disallowed him from living it down. “Is there something on my face, baby?”

Baby. He could spend a lifetime just listening to you calling him that name. The way it sounded so natural coming from you made him melt.

He also could not stop staring at your lips. You always wore a certain gloss no matter the occasion. Even if it was your signature, Felix couldn’t help but stare, and it didn’t make his situation any better. In fact, it got worse, and it felt like the straining in his pants could explode.

“Mm, ‘s nothing, Y/N.”

“You sure?” You prodded. “Your friends kept waving at me and they looked back at you earlier.”

“Ah, please don’t mind them.” He scoffed. “They were being cheeky cunts.”

“That’s a funny way to put it.”

“Anyway, how are we gonna do th-the…uh, the thing…?” Felix stammered, playing with his fingers instead of looking you in the eye.

“Oh, glad you mentioned it!” You hurriedly grabbed the three tiny boxes in your bag. “I got a bit excited over it. Look at this!”

There was nothing too remarkable about the boxes. They looked like basic products, but the huge bolded font on the product labels caught his eye. “It’s more of a stain or something. The label says it can survive five consecutive make-out sessions before a singular budge.”

“It’s…interesting, yeah.” Felix blinked. You chuckled, nodding at his reasonable reaction. “So…y-you’ll put that on me.”

“Yep.”

“And then we kiss.”

“Make-out,” you corrected. Your voice was clear and slightly stern, but the smile that formed on your face sent him in shivers.

The familiarity in your features contrasted with whatever stunts you were going to pull on him sent his head into a haze.

“Anything wrong with it?”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Lix, baby, just be clear with me.” You inched closer to him, bringing your hands to his plump freckle-spotted cheeks. “You don’t mind that I’ll record this and post it?”

“Of course, I don’t mind. I just…” Felix sighed.

“…Just curious, what are you planning to show in the video?”

“I’m gonna show the application, I’ll start by putting it on you.”

The heat rushed to Felix’s face as numerous thoughts clouded his mind as he visualized everything in his mind.

“We’re gonna kiss for a brief moment in the video, probably make out and do…whatever,” you winked shyly. “It’s only gonna be brief. Gotta keep it within community guidelines.”

One of your hands made its way down to his hip. You pulled him closer. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat from gulping back an otherwise embarrassing sound.

You had to wonder if he was hiding anything causing him discomfort there.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Felix bit his lip. “A hundred percent sure.”

“If you don’t want—”

“I want…it,” he whispered under his breath. “I want you.”

He flashed a weak smile. He was incredibly excited, but he was losing composure and he didn’t exactly know why.

He was about to melt in your hands but you held him up and adjusted your set-up for the video with an equally beautiful smile.

—

Three, two, one, action.

The camera rolled and you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline surge through you. Impressively, you thought you would have lost your spark at content creation, but posing in front of the ring light felt refreshing.

“It’s been a long time coming y’all,” you waved, “but I’m back! And guess who I’m with!”

Felix stared at the camera for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you for a split second. It was his cue to wave as well.

“Ah, hi, everyone!”

“Still handsome and meek as always,” you teased. “He still has a bit of makeup on since he came from a shoot.”

Your hand ran down the side of his neck. You felt the goosebumps rise from his skin.

“Anyway, today I’ll be starting a series of videos covering weird products and their weird claims. We’re starting strong with this funky new liquid lipstick from…B.Me Cosmetics.”

Taking the tube out of its package, you examined it and showed it to the phone camera. You swatched a shade on the back of your hand. Differing from a bullet lip, it had a liquid formula that boasted a unique, pseudo-gloss satin finish.

“It claims to be smudge-proof, make-out-proof, everything-proof. Can last five rounds of kissin’ and smoochin’ I assume.” You said many things that Felix didn’t even dare to process.

Felix simply watched your hands delicately hold the product. His gaze was fixated on your nails, fingers, and everything about you that wasn’t the lipstick.

“But oh no no, I’m not testing it on myself. Well, kinda, but Lixie over here is gonna be my test subject.” You swung an arm over Felix, dragging him down to the height of the phone, showing everyone his nervous yet precious face. He eyed up at you with what seemed to be hearts in his pupils.

“Let’s first see how this goes on, hmm?”

You walked a bit away to grab two chairs: one was velvety and comfortable, while the other was taller and had regular cushions. The first was the same chair your clients usually sat on, and the second was your working chair. You urged him to sit down, patting the seat as a signal.

The moment he sat down, Felix started trembling. His knees looked like they were about to give in and his thighs took a moment to settle onto the velvet.

“Everything alright?” You whispered.

He wordlessly nodded back at you. Unknown to you, though, he bit back a noise. He didn’t mind the sharp pulsing pain when he finally got the courage to look up fully, of course with the guidance of your thumb and index finger propping up his chin.

It felt like handling a little kitten in your hands.

“Which shade, which shade…” You took the other bottles out of the bold box packaging and waved them out in front of Felix’s lips. It either would have been a rosy nude color, a deep red, or a bright cherry pinkish-red.

You tapped the tube of the last color against your boyfriend’s bottom lip, watching his cheeks pout slightly at the action. You quietly settled on the cherry color, to Felix’s apparent delight.

“Would you look at that?” You cupped his face with one hand, holding the lipstick on your free one. You faced him towards the camera, relishing in the sight of his cheeks puffing up in your palm. “Call me biased or whatever, but his lips are some of the prettiest I’d ever seen.”

Before he could indulge in the praise though, you urged him to open his mouth. He didn’t prepare for any of this and not your next course of action.

You slotted the bottle in between Felix’s teeth and kept it in place even after unscrewing the applicator off. He bit slightly and carefully to keep the bottle in place without damaging it. If he were a nervous wreck then, he became overly anxious now. You, however, in full focus, took the applicator of the liquid lipstick and slid it along his top lip. The cold sensation of the new foreign product on his mouth made him squirm slightly, though you held him firmly in place with your hand.

“So fitting that his lips are shaped like a heart. He’s so kissable.” You smooched the air while cleaning up the perimeter of his lips, teasing him.

Wished I kissed you right now, huh? Felix could hear that in your voice and he let it echo in his pretty little head. Alas, he couldn’t retaliate nor speak back at all. He couldn’t even dip his head in embarrassment. Your eyes were trained on the brush you flicked, almost dismissive of your own flirting and it mismatched the smirk that adorned your mouth after teasing.

It was the exact kind of look he’s seen many times before. The exact look he fell in love with when you first met.

It’s the look he would get off to almost every night.

You finished off applying the lipstick and it was impressively smooth. You took the bottle from his teeth and sighed. The color made his mouth look irresistibly edible. It would take you three marathons and a trip to the moon to admit that you were starting to feel just as affected as Felix by the sight of his pouty mouth.

“Rub those pretty lips for me, baby.”

Only you could say those words to him the way that you do. Felix felt multiple urges rummaging through his system at once. He could almost cry from wanting to say something, to call out your name, to moan it, to whine and whimper, and melt in your arms as if nobody were watching.

The eyes of the world were on him, though, and all he could do was comply. He rubbed his lips together and pouted them out with a smack.

“Good job, baby.” You rubbed his chin with your thumb. He felt fire surging within his heart.

He knew that you knew what you were doing. It was only you, after all, who knew how to push his buttons in the right places. Unlike Hyunjin nor Jeongin, it took you no effort and no risks to leave him a mentally jumbled mess; not agitated, but certainly needy.

You were still sticking to a mental script, though. “How does it feel? Chalky? Rough? Sticky…?”

“I-It’s smooth. Feels thin.” He felt his tongue almost twist in his mouth from trying to speak when he was physically weakening over you.

“Seems like a good formula,” you giggled.

He watched as you turned your back on him, explaining bits of beauty jargon that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. His vision seemed to blur as a need to satisfy the growing discomfort in his pants overwhelmed him. It all snapped away for a second when you switched the angle of your phone and pulled him up by his arms, leading him in front of the couch.

All of a sudden, you rubbed a circle around the base of his wrist. You looked up at him with eyes that demanded something from him. It was dark yet inviting as if he had just eyed down a wolf threatening to eat him whole.

The gesture was your signal that you wanted to fuck him then and there.

Felix finally didn’t have to keep to himself.

“Time to test how good it wears,” you smirked at him.

Felix’s eyes were focused on yours. He didn’t move an inch as your fingers crawled from his jaw to his cheek. You glanced at your phone, propped up on the countertop, to check if it was recording. When you looked back, your eyes met Felix’s red lips.

You were so glad that you picked that shade. The makeup line released a ton of colors and your mind folded into itself when you realized how many there were. It was almost overwhelming to choose a shade for your boyfriend: you wanted to see him with a pinky nude on his lips, but you also thought the dark berry shade looked pretty.

As a trained makeup artist, you had a knack for figuring out which hues elevated which skin tones. Of all people, you knew Felix’s skin would match the slightly muted, pinkish cherry satin stain.

You should know this. You’ve seen his skin flush many times before, that would be more than enough to be familiar with the hues of his delicious skin.

You were the reason why he would constantly blush, after all. His skin would burn under your slightest touch, but it would flare up until his freckles darkened each time you held him down on your hips and called him pretty. His cheeks would turn as red as the tip of his cock every time you squeezed it lightly.

Before you could think of any more, you tapped your boyfriend’s cheek. His face burned into a shade not far from the color of his lipstick.

“Are you sure you want to record this with me?” You asked, eyes scanning his face for second thoughts.

Felix almost forgot that you needed a clip of the both of you briefly kissing. He nodded after a second, confusion snapping into realization as you smiled at him. He seemed to be lost in thought, too: maybe he was nervous, maybe he was thinking of the same things you thought about. Either way, he simply answered with a smirk and the faintest giggle.

“Yeah. I’m game.”

You were on a mission to prove that this lip product could not budge after an intense make-out session. Now, you — and maybe Felix — wanted to see if it could survive intense sex, too.

All it took were two inches forward: you grabbed his hands dangling in front of you and closed in. Your noses touched each other, the skin bumping softly before your lips slotted against his in the smoothest kiss possible. To his surprise, you started gently. He expected you to crash against his mouth. He expected you to rummage through the product sitting on his mouth right away, to test its strength as a long-lasting piece of makeup, but you didn’t.

Maybe he wanted you to be rough. He wanted it.

You could tell by the whimper he choked up behind the kiss. That, and his hands roamed around your arms and sides, pulling you closer.

“Getting a little excited now, are we?” You purred, pulling your face away from his. He hesitated to break the kiss, inching his lips closer to yours even as you talked.

“Sorry, s-sorry. Got a little carried away.”

You wondered what got him to be so clingy and affectionate. You’re well aware of him being loving and tender, but it’s another thing to have him smitten while you’re doing nothing special.

Little did you know that to him, everything involving you is special. Even the texts you sent earlier and the ones you sent before. He couldn’t stop thinking about them; who wouldn’t, especially when you were being such a tease?

He finally pulled his head back. “Smooth,” he whispered.

You thought to tease him. “The lipstick?”

“No,” Felix chuckled, “I meant you.”

Your hands traveled from up to his toned arms until one of them met the nape of his neck — his sensitive spot. You often called him a little kitten for enjoying being petted on that spot a little too much.

“So, did it rub off yet?” Your boyfriend managed to squeak, still affected by your antics.

His face was impossibly close to yours and you could feel the heat in his cheeks growing the more that he smiled at you. You stepped back to observe his face: apart from the blush on his cheeks, the lipstick was seemingly left unscathed. By the look on his face, he observed your lips, and there were no signs of product transferring.

He also just wanted to kiss it again.

You raised an eyebrow at the camera and shrugged. “I guess it survived round one.”

“That was round one?” Felix mirrored the look you gave your phone. “I thought we call that first base.”

Your head whipped back to him. He simply smirked back, feigning an angel’s smile.

You’ve dated him for a long while, and while he had always been silly, he had never been this way in front of the camera. You wondered if the shoot he did — or the staff he was with — earlier had anything to do with a sudden ego boost.

“Now you’re bold, baby.”

The nickname caused Felix’s smirking eyes into wide ones, the excitement writing itself everywhere on his face.

“Just wanna do more with you,” he teased back. “Do more rounds, test how much removes.”

He puckered his lips and pouted. It was a juicy invitation that you couldn’t turn down. Instead, you took it with a kiss — a deep kiss, one that made you inhale and caught him off guard.

It was still gentle and velvety. It felt like you both tasted clouds and nothing was in between. The hand on the nape of his neck ran up to his hair and back down almost instinctively, making Felix shake. Unable to focus on both the sensation of a passionate kiss, an overwhelming urge to breathe and process the suddenness, and the general feeling of being petted, his hands swung to your chest and squeezed.

“Ah! Felix!” You whispered loudly against his mouth, almost moaning at the sensation.

“Sorry! Force of habit,” he said.

“Gotta keep it PG, baby, I’m posting this.” He nodded assuringly at your words but his hands were crucially still on your chest, threatening to squeeze again.

After realizing this, he immediately attempted to pull his hands back, an apology dripping on the tip of his tongue. Instead, you surprisingly threw your hands on his wrists, caging his hands in place.

If that didn’t surprise him enough, you leaned in close to his face and kissed him once more. It was fiery this time; he felt your tongue darting at him while your teeth nipped slightly at his bottom lip before you pulled away. He gasped louder than he should have.

You giggled at his shock and nuzzled your face on his neck. “Sorry. Reflex.”

“But mommy—” Felix froze, realizing what he had just said. He didn’t mean to say that.

All the cockiness he displayed earlier fizzled out into thin air. You could feel the heartbeat in his neck thumping against your lips. From his eyes fluttered shut to wide open ones, you could see the embarrassment wash over him.

Sure, you two were doing something intimate, kissing and groping in front of the camera. He knew and trusted you enough to edit it out, but the idea that footage would have existed of him calling you that nickname…scared him. The camera watched him, the microphone picked up his low voice, and on the off-chance that this moment makes the cut, thousands of people would have seen it.

He’d gotten used to the idea that millions of people could pass by his face and body, but it’s different when he’s exposing a bit of himself that he only reserved for you — his “mommy.”

“Y/N… Shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t—”

“Oh baby, it’s okay.” You gave a reassuring look and a warm smile, shifting your position to hide his face away from the phone camera.

The pet name was his suggestion. The idea that you could hold this title as his dominant partner was something he never thought of telling you at first, but the moment he mentioned it, you indulged immediately. It was something so dear, so sweet, and soft, definitely making you less of an ominous presence to him in bed and more like a warm home he can return to. You loved it even if he didn’t expect you to.

Even while he’s embarrassed and fully vulnerable, he felt so safe, entrusted to the only one in his life that could take the title without judgment.

“Call me that as much as you want. I won’t show it,” you whispered. Felix nodded but you didn’t miss the tears threatening to form in his eyes.

“Mommy…” He inevitably gave up and dipped his head in the crook of your neck. You petted the back of his head again and kissed the side of his head, calming him with hushes and soft hums.

Before he could melt at your warm embrace, you took a few steps back. Felix whined and hoped to hug you for longer, only to watch you press the button on your phone to stop the recording. You shut the phone off, looked back at him, and smiled with your eyes.

He always valued your respect for his boundaries and the fact that you always made his comfort your top priority.

“We’re not done,” you inched closer, “the lipstick’s still on there.”

Because if you two were going to fuck comfortably, you two were still going to fuck.

Taking his arms and pulling them towards you, you prompted him to wrap himself around you as your lips crashed against his. You held him by his waist — it was remarkably small, toned, and muscled but definitely made for your hands to take it.

With force, you hugged his waist and carried him slightly, pushing you both on the couch. You sat on it while he was essentially hovering over your figure, his hips just above your lap.

“Mommy—g-god,” Felix gasped, muffled by another nudge of your mouth.

As if your brain switched off, your hands started going on their own. One was trained on his hip and the other snaked up his side and cupped his face, making him tremble at the sudden yet soft movements.

You were focused on the kiss but you just knew he looked gorgeous.

Of all the clients you put makeup on, your boyfriend always turned out the prettiest. Maybe it’s because his eyes seemed to shine with certain shadows on them. Maybe it’s the way his freckles peek through the base products. In this case, maybe it was the plumpness of his lips that you loved, covered in a flattering shade of red. Maybe that’s what was doing it for you.

“You’re so cute, baby,” you said, pausing the kiss.

Felix pouted. The pigment on his lips accentuated the curves of his mouth. “Not as cute as mommy.”

“Hm, thank you. But you’re my cute baby.”

Sometimes, you wonder how you got this to be so vulnerable, so whipped for you. It didn’t take him that long to warm up to you with this side of him, a side he so dearly hid from the rest of the world. It’s like this doll was made for you.

“Mommy,” Felix dragged out a whimper as he called you by the title. “Making me needy.”

“Don’t get impatient baby boy,” you whispered, a kiss on his temple following your sweet words.

While rolling your hips onto his, you thought about it what you said. You thought back to the last night he fell into this extremely submissive role. He’d always been the one under you and you’ve always been the one in control, but during that one night — similar to this one — he shyly asked you to call him a certain pet name. You loved it, probably more than he did, and you figured he might want to hear you say it again.

“Or are you my baby girl for tonight?”

“Mommy!” Felix scolded. If his cheeks were already flushed, his entire face heated up with a warmth that you simply indulged in. His ears and the corners of his eyes lit up with a blush tone that complimented and accentuated the cherry color that lined his shy smile.

He enjoyed the pet name too much, and he seemed to be threatened with memories of the same night the moment you said it.

“What? Don’t want to be my baby girl? It’s okay if you—”

“I’m mommy’s girl! Yeah, I’m their baby girl!”

Almost all traces of bass in Felix’s voice left the moment he squealed his response to you.

His eyebrows were slanting upwards like a needy puppy, his eyes sparkled as beads of tears sat on his eyelashes, and he wiggled his hips onto yours with a neediness you’ve seen many times before. He briefly whimpered again in a high pitch.

Being called that for the first time was as special to him as it was to you. It still landed him punches to the gut every time you said it. You would wonder why he loved it even if he was incredibly comfortable in his masculinity.

Maybe it made sense like that, considering he was wearing makeup while sitting on your lap.

You kissed him again and praised him until he gave into the burning sensations he felt from your overwhelmingly smooth graces around his body. With fast swipes, you pulled his plain shirt over his head, only to clothe him again with nothing but the warm embrace of your arms.

He moaned, writhed, and whined, adjusting his position on your lap until his legs were slotted against one of your thighs. Once he found his balance, he rutted against your leg, letting out a sound that he couldn’t resist.

“Didn’t even undress you yet, I still have pants on, and you’re already riding me?” You smiled widely at him. Felix huffed, unable to think, inhaling so that he wouldn’t drool on your shirt.

Or your chest, now that you abandoned your top in a flash, leaving it even harder for him to contain himself.

You took his lips into yours again, this time licking and biting his sweet mouth, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. It was messy and sloppy, just the way he needed it. You wondered if he had been craving this for so long and just couldn’t tell you.

Nevertheless, the next step was to take the bottoms off of your lower half and his own, but he paused your hands from reaching onto his crotch.

“W-Want mommy’s off first,” he sighed. It sounded more like a question now that his voice was so high and his tone was so soft. He was far from the boy whose mouth went foul over his own best friends at work.

His head was far gone, you figured.

Felix helped you pull your pants down, careful not to disrupt the current position that you were both in, only slightly lifting yourself off the couch. He sighed once he saw you, bare and beautiful, rid of anything that kept him from being horny the entire day.

He wanted you so bad.

“Baby girl, tell me,” it was your turn to pause his hands from reaching you.

“Is something bothering you?”

“No…not really a-a bother…” He pursed his lips.

He figured to rip the bandaid off and just show you the source of his discomfort—or, as it seems, the source of his pleasure.

“Baby girl, you…”

He revealed a pastel pink lacy fabric covering his private area. He was wearing panties.

“I…I got them from a PR package…from th-that one underwear company…” Felix justified, stuttering from both extreme embarrassment and arousal.

“It was supposed to be yours b-but I…liked it so much…a-and I wanted to…”

You couldn’t help but notice the drool threatening to fall from his tongue, glossing his lips. Distracted, you didn’t kiss him. You licked his mouth and bit his bottom lip again. The blood under his skin rushed to color his lips, emphasizing the pink-colored stain.

As you bit his lip, your fingers found the band of his panties, toying with the pink lace before slipping under it. The flesh — rather, his cock — was hard and pulsing. Felix moaned. His chest heaved from being unable to process everything at once.

“Baby girl’s clit is so hard for me already.” You pecked his cheek and let him whine. “You’ve been needy since earlier?”

“Y-Yeah, but, ‘m…not finished.” He mumbled under his breath. “Got more…to show you.”

He pulled his panties fully down, allowing his cock to bounce up. You couldn’t help but notice something at the base, but your suspicions were confirmed when he led one of your hands to touch his ass.

“You wore a butt plug the whole day?”

Felix’s face flushed into a shade similar, if not deeper than the cherry red he wore on his lips. At your words, he felt like crumpling into himself.

“It’s just for you. Thought y-you’d like it.”

All you could do in response was kiss him deeply and thrust your thigh up, hitting the plug deeper into his ass.

He moaned deliciously into the kiss and almost cried at the contact. It fucked with him — literally — the entire day and you made it all the better. Only that he had so little time to adjust before you gave him a dark look again.

“Mommy, what are you—”

He was shut up by you licking his mouth and your fingers filling up his hole.

“Your cunt’s so fucking wet, baby girl.” Your words left your system through gritted teeth, filtering your animalistic desire to ruin him even more than ever. “This pussy is mine and only mine.”

You bit his lip once more, sucking on the plump flesh before abandoning it. “Bet your toys can’t satisfy you as I do.”

“They d-don’t, mommy!” Felix was on the verge of tears, choking back sobs as your teeth found his jaw, peppering it with love bites lining his natural contour.

You started pumping your fingers up and down his ass, hitting his prostate with your fingertips over and over. “Can only take me inside your cunt.”

“Ah, god—fuck, mommy!” The delirious sounds escaping him as he scrambled to hold onto your body kept you going.

As if he noticed, he started grinding into the air next to your entrance. You took this as his usual sign that he wanted to please you too. Felix valued mutual pleasure and craved it as much as he craved the sloppy crashing of mouths on a couch.

“Take me like a good girl.” Your voice softened as you cooed. “Can you do it? Ride mommy’s fingers while fucking into me?”

He could only nod frantically, allowing the drool in his mouth to drop onto his cock.

The lipstick probably looked so messy by now.

You held his cock, lengthy and hard, and squeezed it in your free hand. “This is mommy’s to play with.”

Shoving it into your entrance, you curled your fingers deep onto Felix’s prostate, eliciting loud moans from either of you. Felix could scream from the sudden warmth enveloping his cock.

“Rub your clit against me,” you demanded, urging him to thrust his cock immediately. He complied only to start whining and crying out from the stimulation.

You leaned your head to the side and exposed your neck. With a subtle nod of your head, you invited him to bite your neck before his next thrust. Lightning bolts entered you when his teeth sunk into your skin for some semblance of comfort.

In turn, you kissed and sucked a spot on Felix’s shoulder. The biting sensation made him squirm away from you, but his noises only amplified when you latched onto a more sensitive spot above his freckled collarbone. It didn’t help that your fingers were practically exiting and entering his hole completely, filling and emptying him at a speed he almost couldn’t take.

The stimulation from all ends of his body caught up to him, release rumbling from his core up to his cock. He begged and pleaded and called your name multiple times as you did too. Felix readied for release but shocked himself when it came suddenly, almost without warning.

He started gushing just outside your entrance, the relief surging through his hips in waves: it had never happened to him before, but the slight amusement on his fucked-out face sent you over the edge too.

You came at the same time, your wetness coating the sides of your thighs and the cushions of the couch, the pool of both your juices mixing right under you.

It had to take you both several minutes to an hour of downtime before you both got up to clean. During that time, Felix held you close, trapping you in a warm cuddle.

“Y/N, I love you,” he whispered, his deep voice returning, calming you from your high.

You pressed one more kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Felix.”

Aftercare had to be a non-negotiable after the scene you guys painted all over the living room.

You made sure to offer Felix the softest bubble bath, massaging and soothing every inch of his skin, scrubbing away at the residue of the new lipstick.

You both found out, just before the bath, that it barely survived at all. It still stained his lips a shade of red, and the stains of love bites that he left on you stuck for a long while, but the actual product budged possibly within the third round of kisses. It barely held on when you started biting him.

The bedroom was full of giggles and the shuffling of your bodies cuddling close to calm yourselves down. Felix shared how he couldn’t believe his horniness that day, and you teased that he was being a hormonal girl.

He whined at that, kissed you good night, and fell asleep while huddled close to your chest. You calmly played with your phone, quickly editing the footage and clipping out the moment that he slipped into submission.

That was for your eyes only.

You posted the video and muted the notifications, kissed his forehead good night, and fell asleep.

—

“Baby, baby girl…” Your voice, although hoarse and deep from the blissful sleep, woke your boyfriend up. The clock on your bedside table flashed 9:00 AM in bright red, but the light from your phone shone brighter. “Look at this!”

“Holy…Y/N, oh my god!” Every trace of sleepiness left Felix as he jumped out of bed. “The video blew up?!”

You sat up next to him, chuckling in disbelief. “Let’s see what people are saying.”

“Why does the suggested search bar have…”

Men marked up. Men with hickeys. Men whining. It was clear that the video affected your audience in more ways than one.

“Silly,” you giggled, sinking into your boyfriend’s embrace. “Wonder how this thing got through community guidelines.”

Felix pointed at a comment. “Help. Someone’s asking about washing the stains off.”

The both of you cuddled closer. As the sunlight shone through your curtains and hit your figures, it highlighted Felix’s honey skin and the cherry stains that failed to wash off in the shower.

You turned your head to his and smirked. “Should we film an update video? What about a part 2?”

taglist: @toastyseungmo @hobihearteu @biddes-enthusiast @snow-pegasus @subby-kpop @myrandomthoughtsandhobbies @eggielix @hanniecheesecake @chrisbahng @laylasbunbunny @ppiri-bahng @he-they-heathen @chriscentric @svintsandghosts @sstarryoong

+ @imrllytootiredforthis @imsolovelylovely @beefis @sorikkung @lix-ables figured to tag since yall showed interest!

special thanks to @meivida, my ride or die, the big brain that inspired me to write this in the first place! they also took time out of their day to proofread it ^_^

thank you for reading ! consider reblogging and leaving feedback if you loved my work 💗 artwork and writing © ipegchangbin. no reposts and translations.

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!felix #sub!yongbok #dom!reader #stray kids smut #felix smut #yongbok smut #💬 z is writimg

1K notes · View notes

thebestofoneshots · 10 months ago

Text

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.5 K Warnings: None Prompt: Who said potions class was meant to be boring? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 32: Come A Little Bit Closer

You groaned the second your alarm went off, placing a pillow over your eyes as you winced from the light being extremely harsh to your rather sensible senses. You checked the clock, you were pretty sure you had half threatened Sirius with making his life miserable through Moony last night and blinked a couple of times to force yourself awake.

After checking the time one last time, trying to convince yourself that the clock said 4:30 instead of 5:30 so you could sleep another hour, only to realize it wasn’t, you raised yourself until you were sitting on your bed “fuck,” you whispered as you felt the ache on your legs and back. You had rolled yourself into a ball, and while initially, the pain had been drawn out by the stress of the water spirit and the euphoria from the party, it wasn’t anymore. Just when I had started to feel fine, you thought.

You yawned and went to change, rolling your shoulders a couple of times, at least the shoulder wound was a lot better now, and the painkiller potion for that one would also help for the fall, which meant, by the time you were ready, and the meds had kicked in you felt a lot better, except for the fact that you were half tempted to wear a pair of sunglasses even if it was cloudy outside. When you walked down, Sirius and James were already there.

Sirius gave you a look, taking in your demeanour in an instant and smirking, “You sure you still want to fly, Vix?”

You gave him a look and huffed, “Very.”

He chuckled as he walked towards you and placed his arm around your shoulder, “If you say so then.”

James, who had no idea you had threatened Pads but had gotten a threat of his own in the morning from Sirius, to not go hard on you because of the fall –that he still had to speak his mind to you about– was a little confused with the interaction, but decided that it was probably something to do with being in a relationship. And since he had barely gotten Lily to go on one date with him, he really wouldn’t know.

Once you got to the pitch Sirius pulled out a small notebook from his pocket and opened it, handing it over to you, “Memorise this.”

You frowned, trying to figure out why Sirius would give you a notebook, but then you read some of the words and understood, it was the counterspell he had mentioned the previous night. You smiled, at how neatly he had written it down, at how he’d separated his cursive more than normal and paid attention to adding the extra dots and lines he sometimes left out.

Sirius had written it for you, and he wanted you to pay attention so he had been extra careful with it. And you, being as naturally curious as a fox, decided to snoop around the notebook a little more. There were a few silly doodles and for a minute you worried that he had given you his sketchbook, but it was definitely not it, that one was a little wider, and the cover was black, this one, on the other hand, had a wine red cover, a very Gryffindor notebook.

There were lists of songs, with names for mixtapes at the top on some pages, and a few movies some muggle friends had recommended, including some you and Remus had told him about. On some of the pages you spotted your name written on the edges, and you smiled, you didn’t know boys did that too.

“You done?” He asked as he turned to you, he had been pulling out some stuff from the shed with James. You quickly changed the page to the one you had to be on and smiled.

“Almost,” you said before trying to fully focus on the page and the words. They weren’t tricky, in fact, it was kind of a combination of protection spells you already knew, but it was rather long. His thick and delicate handwriting occupies the entire page and then some of the next one.

After a few more minutes you took a deep breath and nodded “I think I’m ready.”

“Good,” Sirius said, “Take your broom and hover for a bit.” You did as told. “Not so high silly, what if you fall?” he asked as he saw you float a few feet above his head.

“I won’t fall,” you said confidently.

“Vix, lower,” James said rather sternly, it was his captain’s voice. You were a little angry at his demanding tone but after a huff, you did as told. They were right anyway, you weren’t looking forward to falling again. You had enough bruising and soreness for the rest of the fucking year. Scratch that, for the rest of this one and the next one, you only had like thirty days left of 1976 anyway.

“Ready?” Sirius asked, you nodded. And then he started mumbling something, at first, there was nothing, you just continued hoovering peacefully, but then you felt it, a soft yank to the side. Slowly the movements got worse and worse and you felt like you were on a mechanical bull. Sirius looked at you concentrated, a small frown on his soft features as he did. Like he didn’t want to push too hard, but he knew whoever kept trying to push you off your broom –Barty– wouldn’t be merciful so he pushed on.

That’s when you started muttering the counterspell, tightening your grip on the handle and focusing your magic on your palms, letting it flow through your body and onto the item that was being jinxed. It wasn’t easy, wandless magic always held a small degree of complication, especially the more advanced it was, and counterspells were no easy feat.

Eventually, you lost the battle and ended up on the floor. Sirius rushed to help but you shook your head, raising your hand to indicate that he stayed in place, and then took a deep breath, “Again.”

“But…”

“Again,” you insisted “I have to master this one,” you added as you mounted your broom and nodded for Sirius to start again. James was watching attentively and allowed it to continue. Even after you fell over the second time, gritting your teeth and whispering “again.”

After a couple more times, it was James the one that stepped in. “How about we call it for today and continue trying tomorrow?” he suggested. You had just fallen from your broom and were sitting on the floor looking impossibly tired.

“But the spell…”

“James is right, we can practise more tomorrow, we’re not playing until next year anyway, we’ve got enough time to master it.”

You sighed but nodded, not even attempting to move from the floor for a bit while James and Sirius batted the bludger over each other a couple of times. You took Sirius’ notebook out of your pocket and went over the spell again, recalling if perhaps you had missed some words on the incantation or maybe it was the execution that wasn’t working properly. So you went over the words, reading them in your head and practising the spell as many times as you could.

“Hey Vix, let that go and come over, I need you to practise this,” James said when he noticed your overly concentrated stance.

It took you a second to pull your gaze from the paper but you nodded, feeling thankful that you’d get a distraction and then guilty for feeling thankful over it. Either way you pocketed the notebook, grabbed one of the beater bats and mounted your broom, flying towards them. After a while of beating the iron ball with as much force as you could muster, and using exclusively your good arm, you felt a lot better.

When you were done, you helped the boys with the equipment and walked alongside them all the way to the common room, where you parted ways to change into your respective uniforms. The entire day went by rather uneventfully, McGonagall had paired you with Remus on the transfiguration project and you were still going over crystal ball reading on divinations, although a bit boring, at least it was something you hadn’t any particular talents with.

Although, and you didn’t want to think much about it, there was definitely something dark surrounding the Ravenclaw tower. You decided that maybe you’d ask Sybil about it later, she had been taking extra classes with Spellman, so she’d probably know if something was up. You considered asking Spellman directly, but you were scared he’d end up blowing it off proportion and decided to just pretend you had seen a field with colourful flowers.

“What colour?”

“All the colours,” you said, knowing that if you said a particular one he might end up finding a deeper meaning behind your lie.

November 30th, 1976

The following day, you also woke up in time for morning practice, this time around you managed to stay on the broom for longer, but fell either way, and James didn’t allow you to practise as much as the previous day since he wanted to focus on dodging that morning, which had ended up on a very fun practice.

Sirius had almost gotten a bludger in the shoulder before you pulled him to the side and James barely managed to dodge one that had flown straight to his head. You were all laughing merrily by the time you were meant to go back to the dorms for breakfast.

Once you reached the common room you spotted Remus on one of the couches and plopped beside him, Sirius doing the same on the other side. “Ugh, you’re both sweaty,” he complained.

You pouted, “It’s magically cleaned,” you said dismissively as you sank a little deeper, neither you nor Sirius were actually sweaty since outside was so freezing cold. Well, perhaps just slightly. And Remus wasn’t bothered by you sitting next to him either, if anything, he loved it, he had to keep up appearances regardless.

“The couch is, I’m not!”

Sirius leaned his head on Remus’ shoulder, “Aww come on Moony, you’ll smell like your two favourite people all day. What’s there to complain about?”

Remus almost pushed the boy off him when Prongs intervened, “What do you mean his two favourite people, where does that leave me?”

Remus frowned at James, clearly interested in where the conversation was going, but it was Sirius who spoke, “On the armchair.”

James gasped, “Yeah, I don’t think you’d fit in here,” you teased further, a tiny smile spreading on your lips while you pointed at the little space of couch there was left. Now, if you and Sirius had been sitting like normal people, and Remus hadn’t had his legs spread wide, perhaps you could’ve found a way to fit Prongs in, but none of you seemed interested in changing position.

“I refuse to be left out!” he said with a frown.

“So what? You’ll use engorgio on the couch?”

“Too much trouble,” James said as he walked towards you and let himself fall on top of the three as if laying on the couch but using your legs instead.

“Oi, watch where that elbow goes,” Sirius complained.

“When was the last time you washed those?” you said with a frown as you stared at his murky-looking socks.

“They get washed every day!” James complained, “That’s their original colour.”

“No way in hell.”

“No,” Remus said as he shook his head. “that really is their original colour, we’ve been teasing him about them since he got them.”

You leaned over to look at James’ face, it was lying on top of Sirius’ legs “Why did you keep them?”

James went red, and Sirius responded, “Lily gave them to him, last Christmas I believe.”

“Yeah,” James said proudly. “They arrived at my house by owl mail. She even wrote a note that said they reminded her of me.”

You threw a side glance at Remus, clearly seeing the irony in Lily’s note, that seemed to completely slip past James, back then and even now.

“We’ve got potions,” you sighed, leaning back just a little and allowing James to accommodate his feet better. They were a bit heavy, but at least they weren’t crashing against any bruises.

“Thought you liked potions,” Sirius said.

“I like hanging out with Rem at potions, but the potion we’re working on is so tedious I swear you need to add another gram of something new every couple of minutes.”

“At least it hasn’t blown up on your face,” James said with a shrug, remembering the way it had exploded on Tom the previous class, and Tom was actually good at potions. Thought, perhaps he had been a little distracted that day.

“We could skip…” Sirius offered.

“No, we can’t!” Remus said, “She’s lost enough classes with last week’s drama!” He then turned to you. “And don’t you dare leave me alone with the veritaserum!”

You took a deep breath and nodded “I wasn’t thinking of skipping,” you defended. “I was merely informing.”

“James Fleamont Potter!” You heard Lily’s reprimanding voice from the stairs. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

James seemed a little confused, leaning up just a little to try and spot the redhead, “uh… Resting?”

“On top of your two freshly injured friends?!”

Both you and Remus started a chorus of “I’m fine” and “Oh… It’s okay Lily, I’m healed now, it doesn’t hurt anymore” but she took none of it. Walking all the way to the couch and forcing James to roll off of it. He fell on the floor and turned, looking at the kneeling figure with his charming little smile, like she was the only witch in the world.

You could tell Lily was fazed by it, especially when a little bit of red started to spread over her cheeks, you smiled, raising an eyebrow towards Remus who clearly had noticed too.

“Enough of that!” She told him with a slap on the arm. “Let’s get some breakfast, you must all be starving.”

“I second that,” you said with a nod.

“Yeah, me too,” Remus agreed.

“Hungry beasts, that’s the kind of people I surround myself with,” Sirius joked.

“If anyone’s a hungry beast here Sirius…” you started and threw him a look that had him gasp “Anyway… breakfast.”

All of you stood up and started walking towards the Great Hall, Peter was fast to catch up with you and Lily told you the girls were already there. Breakfast was as delicious as always, and you were so hungry you even took an extra slice of toast with jam and peanut butter to munch on on your way to potions.

“Pass me the Stewed Mandrake Root, would you? Sweetheart?” Remus asked as he stared at the cauldron with a bit of a frown.

“We’ve already added that,” you responded, leaning forward to look as well, the potion was a weird murky brown colour, not the mossy green that the book described it would be. “Did we measure wrong?”

“Maybe we spun it the wrong way around?” Remus said, just as puzzled as you, “You measured that one, you never measure wrong.”

“Yeah, I checked twice,” you agreed, that was something you had learned from Remus near the beginning of the year. And you were especially careful with longer and more tedious potions like this one.

You saw Snape snigger from the side as he stared at your cauldron, and you were about to flip him off with two fingers when Remus placed a hand over your forearm and gave you a look. You gave him a reproachful stare in response but he just raised an eyebrow at you and tilted his head a little. You huffed in response but held back the insults you had in store for Snivelus. You understood why Remus did it, getting in petty fights with the Slytherins had already gotten you almost killed once.

You sighed and went back to look at your potion, suddenly remembering, “There’s a troubleshooting guide at the end of each chapter, perhaps we can find something there?” you suggested and the two of you went straight to look through the book.

“I think… the only thing that could’ve happened is someone sabotaging the potion…” Remus said with a frown, “If we had added too much of any ingredient the result would be different colours. It would be red with too much Mandrake root, blue if we had undercooked the Syrup of Hellebore, and purple if it were because of the Bicorn Horn powder, but none of these mention brown.”

You bit your lip as you analysed the situation and looked around, if someone had actually sabotaged your potion, you’d have to figure out exactly what they had used to do it, to attempt and revert it, if it was even possible.

You started looking at people’s tables and the ingredients they had placed on them, Alison Prewet and Archie McMillan had a few ingredients that didn’t go in the recipe but neither of them was particularly good at potions so you couldn’t be sure it had been them.

Tim Klum also had some suspicious-looking ingredients, but by his nervous stance and recent rash, you assumed he was trying to brew something to counter it instead of sabotaging anyone else. Besides, you had barely crossed words with him, and you were certain he didn’t have anything against Remus, regardless you wrote down all the ingredients he had on his stable, identifying them by texture and looks.

Then you spotted something mysterious by Sirius’ table. Of course, Sirius would never sabotage you or Rem, but Severus? You wouldn’t put it past him, he could be a jealous little snake, although he had never done such a thing, and you weren’t sure why he would be sabotaging you now, the fact that he had Shivelfig, which was normally used for draught of living dеath made no sense. Unless he wanted to steal it for himself that is.

You turned to Remus “I have a hunch of who might have done it,” you mumbled, almost inaudibly, but he heard, and you knew he’d be able to hear it. He gave you an attentive look, “But I want to test my theory before we make a mistake.”

“What do you need?”

“Just a bit of someone else’s potion, that’s at the same stage as ours.”

Remus nodded, “I can do that, you?”

“I’ll get some Shivelfig.”

Both you and Remus nodded as you looked attentively at the other, he grabbed a small vial and started walking towards James and Lilly while you walked towards Sirius’ table.

“Hi Pups,” you said with a smile.

“Sod off,” Snape said when he spotted you.

“You do it.”

“This is my table.”

“Argh, c'est un idiot, comment tu le supportes?” You asked, looking at your boyfriend.

“I’m intelligent enough to know you’re calling me an idiot,” Severus said impassively.

"Très bien, casse-toi alors."

Sirius laughed at your crassness and Severus just rolled his eyes, not understanding what you said but figuring out you were either telling him to fuck off or piss off, which wasn’t that far from the real thing. “How come you’ve come to visit, Kit?” Sirius asked.

“Missed you,” you said simply, Sirius saw the mischievous smile you gave him and knew instantly you were up to something.

“Aww, you did?” he asked as he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you slightly closer to him, Slughorn was near the back of the classroom helping some Slytherins with a fire they had accidentally caused, which was enough distraction for you to be able to be all over Sirius at that moment.

“Oh, please, I’m going to puke…” Severus said as he rolled his eyes and turned to the side.

You forced yourself to hold back a laugh, Sirius, whose back was turned to Severus, and who had the least serious face you’d ever seen, wasn’t helping. “Devrions-nous lui donner un spectacle?” You asked in a low voice, trying to make it sound like you were flirting rather than just asking Sirius if you should annoy Severus further.

Sirius bit his lip, looking at you with a small frown before nodding, “Mh-hum,” he replied before leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Ugh please, we’re in class!”

“Go be jealous elsewhere, Snivelus,” Sirius pulled himself from the kiss just for a second to say that, going back and deepening the kiss a second after. Severus looked at the two of you in disbelief and then back at Slughorn, but he was way too busy with the fire in the back. Who would have thought adding a little bit of dragon breath to the potion would cause such a complicated mess?

You deepened the kiss, pushing Sirius back just a little and his back crashed against Snape’s shoulder, Snape pushed back and Sirius had to tighten his grip on you so you wouldn’t fall. You could feel he was about to laugh because of Severus’ reaction and you squeezed his arm just a little to get him to focus and he did, even let out a small, rather performative grunt, just to piss Severus further.

Severus was about ready to go get the teacher, or a prefect, or someone to get you to stop snogging in front of his face when you leaned in again, this time pushing Sirius’ arm strategically so it pushed their leftover Syrup of Hellebore, it wouldn’t do any harm to him since it had been cooked, but it would make his uniform stink after a couple of hours, and you knew he knew about it.

“Ugh!” he complained, “You pair of dimwitted animals!”

You pulled back from the kiss, just to give him a side glance, looking only mildly apologetic “Oops, sorry…”

Snape gave you a disgusted glance and stood up. “I’m off to clean this up, Black,” he glared at the boy, Sirius turned to him with an uninterested glance. “Please, for the sake of our passing grade, make sure our potion stays boiling at a steady temperature while I’m gone.”

“Sure Snivelus, I’ll make sure,” Sirius said with a rather indifferent shrug just to piss Severus off a bit more. Severus gave him an untrustful glance, but stood up and left. While he was leaving you went back to kissing, which seemed to piss Severus off even further, which made both you and Sirius smile in the kiss, you were half still kissing, half using each other’s mouths to hold back a laugh.

When you finally stopped, Sirius was biting his lip to hold back a grin while you were looking at him with lips pursed, still trying to hold back a laugh.

Sirius cleared his throat “Now that the crow’s gone, would you care telling me why you’re really here?”

“What? Kissing you passionately in the middle of class is no good excuse?”

Sirius raised his eyebrow “Oh no, I think it’s an excellent excuse, but I’m waaay more likely to use it than you are.”

You gave him a small smile, “I think Severus might have sabotaged my potion,” you admitted, “and I think he used this,” you took a hold of the jar with Shivelfig , “to do it.”

“We should ruin his potion then,” Sirius said instantly. You gave him a look, he raised an eyebrow “What?”

“Sirius, he’s your partner. If we ruin his potion…”

Sirius frowned, “Well, it’s not fair if he gets out scot-free.”

“Remus and I are trying to fix it.”

“And you can do it?”

You shrugged, “If he really did use shivelfig, we could try and find a way to counter its effect, or at least neutralise it.”

“So you came to get some.”

You nodded, “The kisses were a great bonus though.”

“I can give you many more bonuses, darling,” he said and leaned in again, but you felt a hand on your shoulder and turned around to see who was there, thankfully, it wasn’t Slughorn.

“You got that?” Remus asked.

“Yeah,” you said as you pulled a small flask with shivelfig from your cloak.

“Hold up! When did you even…?” Sirius asked, confused.

“I’m a girl of many talents,” you told him with a wink. “See you around, Puppy!” You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and walked back to your table alongside Remus. “You got the potion?” You asked Remus, who seemed tense for some reason. He had seen the whole thing happen, and his head had started going haywire with so many thoughts running through his head.

“Yeah,” he responded, “James and Lily.”

Once you were both on your table, he poured half of his little flask on a crystal vase and you used a pair of tweezers to add the tiniest bit of shivelfig to the potion. Nothing happened and you frowned. “Maybe it wasn’t Snivelus in the end…”

“No wait,” Remus said, placing a hand on your forearm and taking a small stick, sipping it in the flask and turning clockwise three times, the potion turned the same murky brown as yours in an instant.

“Remus, that’s brilliant!” you said with a smile “The potion didn’t go brown until we spun it, and Severus probably knew, he could have added the shivelfig a while ago, that way we wouldn’t have noticed, and we would have just assumed we did something wrong.”

Remus nodded, “He’s an asshole, but he’s a competent one.”

“So now we know what he used, how do we neutralise it?”

“I’m not sure,” Remus said as he bit his lip.

“Sopophorous bean?” you asked. “Isn’t it used on draught of living dеath to neutralise the shivelfig’s poisonous nature?”

Remus shook his head “Yeah, but combined with Mandrake Root it can be dеadly, our veritaserum would end up being Baneberry Potion instead.”

“Shit, you’re right,” you said almost in a whisper. You frowned, racking your brain trying to find a solution only for it to clash against the rest of the ingredients. Your face started to fall when you started running out of ideas. No matter how much you thought about it, it seemed like there was no solution, which left you dejected since even if you had figured out exactly how they had sabotaged you, you wouldn’t be able to fix it.

“I might have an idea,” Remus said then, he had the same face he made when he was focused on a task, preparing a complicated potion or working on the details of a plan, it was that of absolute concentration. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his lips pressed tightly against the other, causing one of his scars to move along with his mouth. He looked cute.

“Wait… really? How?”

“I’ll go get some Moonstone… Do you have the charms book with you?” He asked.

“We… don’t have charms today…” you said. You used to carry it around all the time but after your shoulder wound carrying as little as possible was a lot more manageable, even with the floating spell you had placed on your bag.

“It’s fine, it’s somewhere in my bag, look for it, will you? Find the magnetism spell.”

“The magnetism…” you started with a slightly questioning look and then gasped. “Remus, that’s… has it even been tested before?”

Remus shrugged in response, “It’s either that or we do it over. Besides, we could test it with this,” he said as he pointed at the little vial that you had used to see if it really had been shivelfig what they had used to ruin your potion. He then leaned down and placed his bag –that he had carelessly thrown on the floor– on the table right in front of you. “Just be careful, there’s an extending spell inside so I can keep all my stuff. Might take you a while to find it,” he added right before he walked towards the ingredients cabinet.

He hadn’t been exaggerating, his bag was absolutely filled with things. You dug inside and could feel several books, you pulled them out, one by one, he had some books for classes, some library books that had gone overdue, the copy of The Godfather he had been reading you and Sirius, the copy you had given him of The Portrait of Dorian Grey when you discovered he was a Werewolf.

You’d told him he could keep it one time he mentioned he wanted to get a copy to annotate, which made you wonder if he had annotated the sides and you opened it, you had written some notes on the pages, notes he hadn’t erased, writing around the edges and under your own handwriting. And on ink, it was absolutely clear who had written what, and he’d even responded to some of the things you had annotated. You smiled, you’d have to ask him to borrow it to you one day, just so you could see what he wrote.

As you flipped the pages, something called your attention. Sirius’ name was written on one of the corners of the book, you frowned and looked at the page, there were a few highlighted quotes here and there, but there was something about Sybil calling Dorian prince charming and you chuckled. Yeah, you too would have considered Sirius a Prince Charming. You closed the book and placed it back on his bag, completely missing how Sirius’ name repeated over and over through the pages, how your name was doodled alongside his too.

How in one of the quotes from Basil, he had pointed out that Basil was just like him, fallen in love with the impossible, but that Basil had been lucky enough to only find one of those people rather than two, how miserable would Basil be if he had loved not only Dorian, but Sybil too? Perhaps half as miserable as Remus felt sometimes.

You continued to rummage through Remus’ bag, and you felt a small plastic bag, you assumed it was chocolate and took a hold of some of them out to ask him for one when he came back, you knew he would say yes anyway, but when you pulled your hand out, you were met with a strip of condoms instead. You quickly put them back in, trying not to think of the fact that they were size L or the fact that he had so many of them. Does he not know about the potion? No, he definitely knows about the potion, I mentioned it at the Quidditch party. You swallowed thickly, you were sure you had flushed at least a little when you felt a hand on your back.

“You found it?” Remus asked. You were startled, and had to cough a couple of times to compose, Remus felt a lot taller to you at that minute, as if the size of the… nevermind, erase that thought, erase that thought.

“No, I– you keep a lot of stuff in your bag, Rem.”

“You didn’t find anything weird, did you?”

“Weird?!” you were sure your voice had gone an octave higher by that point. “No,” you coughed again, “Nothing.”

He looked at you as if he wasn’t convinced, “Cause if you did it was probably Sirius’ he leaves a lot of stuff in my bag.”

The idea of them being Sirius’ instead of Remus’ made you gulp, you were sure your cheeks would warm if you didn’t change the subject immediately, so that’s exactly what you did, “Found the moonstone?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “back pocket,” he added as he dug his hand through his bag, “On the left, my left,” he added then, “where you’re standing.”

“Oi! I know where the left is!” you argued as you went for it.

“You didn’t know last time.”

“Though we settled on the fact that I just wanted to grab your ass.”

He chuckled, “You really can’t lose, can you?”

“I jumped off my broom to get the snitch, what did you expect?”

Finally, he pulled out the book, one of the condoms falling on the floor. He looked at it, and then at you, you were also looking at it “That’s…”

“I know what that is,” you said. “Spent last summer on muggle London, remember?” It had been pretty hard to forget the safe sex campaigns all over the bus stops near the biggest schools as you walked past them. And of course you, being naturally curious, had gone and read all the details they offered. At least you had learned a few things in the end.

“Alice gave them to me,” he said as he leaned down and grabbed it, placing it back in his bag as fast as possible.

Remus seemed genuinely flustered about it, which is why you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease him. “Oh, so you’re definitely having fun,” you said with a teasing smile.

“What?! That’s–”

“Hey! I don’t judge,” you added with a shrug, “I told you when I found your stash.”

“That wasn’t–”

“It’s fine Rem,” you said as you placed a hand on his arm. “You deserve to relax every now and then, if anything, you should use them up before they go bad… Although you do know the potion exists, right?”

“Please stop,” Remus said as he placed both hands over his face and leaned down on the table. He was flustered over you insinuating such things, more because he always thought about you when he did them with Alice than because you insisted on teasing him about her. If only you knew, heck, you would probably break off your friendship with him. As if anything Remus did would make that happen.

You only laughed and placed a hand on his back “All right big boy,” you didn’t say that on purpose, but it did make you think back on the size of the… no. “Back to the potion…”

“Yes,” Remus stood, the flush on his cheeks fading away slightly. Although the bits of red still made him look adorable, you almost wanted to get a picture of it. And then you wondered what he would look like if he were looking at a person he liked, little did you know that was exactly what he was doing.

All the while, Remus was flipping through the pages. “Here!” he said and pointed at the page, leaning closer to you so you could see the book, “So… the idea is to use the spell on the moonstone, but somehow make it attract just the shivelfig.”

“We could do it by combining it with a locating spell?”

“It was my idea too, but… how?”

“Hold up,” you said as you pulled a parchment from your bag, he pulled the quill closer to your hand and you dipped it in some ink before drawing some runes inside a small triangle. It looked a lot like what the muggles thought whichcraft looked like, and it was a little archaic, inexperienced wizards would say it was dark arts -it wasn’t- and regardless, it was still the easiest way to combine spells.

“Are you drawing a Nimueh diagram?”

You nodded, and he stared as you continued to add symbols and runes and lines around your paper. Once it was done you placed the stone on top. “You’re better with location spells, how about you say that one and I go for the magnetism one?”

“Have you ever done it?”

You shook your head “But I haven’t done a location spell either, you have,” you added with a shrug.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Remus said with a nod and offered his hand. You gently placed your hand over his and gave it a soft squeeze. “In three… two… one…”

Little did you know that while you chanted the spell, and almost with the whole previous interaction, Sirius had been looking at the two of you with absolute fascination. At the incredible team you made, at how cute Remus looked flushed and at how much fun you seemed to have around him, teasing him. It was in those genuine, carefree smiles that you managed to pull out of his best friend, your best friend too, he remembered. It was in the chuckles he pulled out of you, in the way you moved around the table to get the ingredients, in the way you grabbed your parchment and he passed you a quill.

Sirius was so enthralled by the two of you that he didn’t notice Severus returning to his sit right next to him, “I told you to check on the potion you stu-”

Sirius turned around to look at the boy, annoyed. “The potion’s fine,” he said carelessly. “No one messed around with it while you were gone. Vix would never stump as low as that.” He said that last bit with venom, looking straight at Severus who narrowed his eyes. There was no way Sirius could’ve known, and yet…

“Do you think it’ll work?” You asked Remus, you had just finished chanting the spells, your hands sliding off each other a little too fast for his taste and the moonstone -that shone as you infused it with magic- seemed to be slowly fading into its natural state.

“There’s only one way to know,” Remus said as he took the small milky stone and dropped it straight onto your cauldron. You peered in, and slowly, the murky water took back the mossy green colour it should have had initially. Both you and Remus smiled relieved.

“You did it!” you said almost jumping in joy, placing your hand over his arm and squeezing lightly, “You’re absolutely fantastic!”

Remus turned to you, his expression mirroring your own, “We did it,” he remarked “It was a team effort, you guessed what they’d used to sabotage us.”

You were both smiling brightly at each other when Professor Slughorn approached the two of you, “Are you finished with your potion?” he asked, “You seem rather thrilled.”

“We had a bit of a setback,” you admitted, “but we’ve managed to fix it, the veritaserum should be finished before the class.”

“A setback? Of what kind?”

“We got sabotaged, Professor,” Remus explained.

“Outrageous! Who would dare do such a thing, to such brilliant students?”

You were about to speak but Remus intervened “We do not know, but (Y/N) managed to figure out what they had used shivelfig, we used the knowledge for a spell on the moonstone and magnetised the unrequired ingredient to it.”

You gave Remus a look but decided to follow along, whatever reason he had not to rat Snape out, must have been good. You used your wand to pull the moonstone out of your cauldron, it was no longer white and seemed to be covered with a murky slippery substance. The shivelfig clearly had reacted with some of the other ingredients. You levitated it closer to your face to give it a look before letting it fall back down on the table.

“And you used a Nimueh diagram so that the shivelfig would adhere to the moonstone, clever!” He said as he pulled out the paper from the table and inspected it. He could see it was your handwriting, which is why he looked at you when he said it.

“Thank you, sir,” you responded, “But it was a team effort.”

He turned back to Remus as if just remembering he was there too, you narrowed your eyes at him, “Of course, of course,” he said dismissively, which pissed you off a little bit too much. “Please stay after class is over, I need to have a word with you.”

You looked at him, frown deepening but nodded. “Of course, Professor.”

“Excellent, so.. get on with it. I want to see how your potion comes out in the end,” And with that, he was gone, off to talk to some other students.

“The hell was he going on about?”

“It’s probably about the slug party,” Remus said with a shrug.

“The what?”

“His exclusive Christmas dinner, he only invites the best students.”

“You must have gone several times then,” you concluded.

Remus tensed, “No. Never been invited.”

You turned to him with a frown, “What but that doesn’t–”

You were cut off by James, “You done, kids?”

“Almost,” Remus said, you passed him the last ingredient you had to measure and he placed it on the cauldron, stirring the potion three times to the right, finally the colour was transparent.

“You think it worked?”

You shrugged, “Only one way to find out,” you said as you grabbed a pipette, dipping it in the liquid and placing your finger on the hole at the top, moving it to your mouth and releasing your finger, allowing just a drop to fall on your mouth. You didn’t want the effect to last overly long. “Go on then, ask me something.”

“How many fingers do I have up?” James asked, raising his hand.

“Six,” you responded, “that was a stupid question, Prongs.”

James gasped at your reply “Rude.”

“What did you get on your transfiguration mock quiz?” Remus asked with a teasing smirk.

You groaned, not wanting to respond to this one. “I got a Dreadful,” you said, despite yourself.

“Wait, really?! Is that why you wouldn’t show it to me?” James asked as he leaned a little closer to the two of you.

You nodded, “I couldn’t transform the pot into a swan, I made something close to a chicken.”

“Close to a chicken?” James pressed.

“That was actually a dreadful animal,” you replied, trying to find a bit of humour in the situation.

“Well, our trickery worked, the potion’s great,” Remus said pleased as he pulled out a vial to place it in and hand it over to be graded. Pulling out a tag he had previously prepared and lacing some string on it to attach it to the top of the potion. It had “Veritasetum” and then both of your names at the bottom. All in a perfectly elegant-looking handwriting, he’d used caligraphicus to make it extra neat. He always did like the way your names looked beside each other.

You pulled a flask from your bag and also served some inside. “In case it comes in handy,” you told the boys, who both looked at you with rather impressed expressions as you placed it back inside your bag, now filled.

Lily called for James and it was you and Remus alone again, he leaned over, you might be pissed after what he was about to do, “Hey little witch,” he said softly. You were cleaning things around but turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. “Are you really not scared of me?”

You gave him a look, something between a frown and a comprehensive sigh. You took the pipette and let a few other drops fall in your mouth, more than you had done initially, “In case you thought that perhaps it had already worn off,” you said. “And no, Remus, I’m not scared of you, or Moony for that matter.” The boy seemed apprehensive, “Must I drink the entire cauldron for you to believe me?”

Remus sighed, a relieved chuckle escaped from his mouth. He knew you weren’t, you had been reassuring enough at the infirmary when you cuddled him as Vixen, but he needed to make sure. To make sure you weren’t lying just for his sake like he had discussed with Sirius the night before the prank. He smiled, diverted and decided to tease further, “So you definitely still want to be friends?”

You smiled. “Best friends,” you replied, “You couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.”

“I have, it didn’t work, remember?” You hummed in response. And then he looked at your shoulder, biting his lip, the next question might actually piss you off, “Does it still hurt?”

You thought your answer through, “Less than before,” you replied eventually, it was true.

“But it does hurt.”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

You looked at the side, not wanting to answer, closing your eyes and sighing when you realised you wouldn’t be able to hold back. “I don’t know, like getting clawed at by a huge wolf, I suppose?”

“Do you resent me?”

You frowned. “Of course not! And I don’t resent Moony either, before you ask,” you said that last bit with an accusing finger towards him.

“And the fall?”

“More scary than painful.”

“Scarier than me?”

“You’re not scary!” You turned to him.

“Scarier than Moony?” he corrected.

“Yes.” There was silence. “The water monster… it was… nothing like Moony, frightening, hungry, unreasonable. Moony’s different, he– you are beautiful.”

There it was again, you calling him beautiful, you kept doing that over and over, and he thought it was just your protective nature, you wanting him to feel better about it, but with veritaserum, it was impossible to lie. Remus cleared his throat, looking to the side as he felt a flush going up his neck and you smiled, pushing him just a little. “Now stop asking me questions that make me sound all sappy!”

“Does it bother you?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Told you to stop making me sound sappy, how would you feel I had you drink some and ask you questions?”

“I never had you drink anything!” he replied, offended.

“Right, you only took advantage of the fact that I had drunk it to ask your silly questions.”

“They were legitimate.”

“Most of them I had already answered Remus.”

“Only half answered,” he corrected. “You’ve said time and time again that you were fine.”

“I AM fine!” And that was true, again, you couldn’t lie. Did everything hurt? Yes. But other than that, other than the pain, other than the soreness, you were perfectly fine.

“And you truly believe it,” Remus said, surprised.

You smiled and pushed him again “No more questions,” you warned with a smile on your face.

“And here I was thinking of asking you if Sirius was good in bed,” Remus joked.

“I wouldn’t know,” you said before you could stop yourself.

Remus looked at you surprised, “You mean you haven’t–”

“That’s none of your business Moony,” you said as you started to flush. “We said no more questions.”

“Oh, but you’re always teasing me about things like this,” he said as he poked your arm with a sneaky little smile. “So you really never have?”

“Remus!” You reprimanded again and then sighed. “No, have not. We haven’t gotten there yet, okay? We’ve been busy with other things, if you can tell. Now do I have to go into details for you to stop it or…”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry.”

You huffed, “you’re too curious for your own good.”

You were right in more than one way. “If that isn't the cauldron calling the kettle black.”

You smiled and shoved him to the side again, he enjoyed the feeling of your hand on his shoulder, he was wondering how much he could tease you before you actually got pissed at him when the bell rang.

“I’ll take this to him and see what he wants,” you said as you grabbed the potion you’d finished.

“I’ll tell Nightshade why you’re going to be late,” he said as he placed the rest of his books in his bag, “I’ll take your bag too,” he said as he picked it up from the floor.

You frowned, “I can take my own bag, Moony.”

“I know, but it still hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked as he pointed at your shoulder.

You narrowed your eyes at him, he knew you’d have to tell him the truth still, you had taken more drops than you needed, you huffed out a “Yes” as you rolled your eyes, “But I’m perfectly capable of–”

“I know, and I don’t care,” he interrupted as he slung your bag on his shoulder. “I made that,” he said as he pointed at your shoulder, “Now I carry your bag.”

You scoffed, now diverted at your friend’s resolution more than anything, you were about to say something when Sirius shouted from the door, “You coming Moons, Starshine?”

“You fill him up, yeah?” You asked Remus just before you gave Sirius a wink, he blew you a flirty kiss in response.

Remus nodded when you turned back to him, and you gave up on fighting for your bag, after one last sight. “See you in class,” you told him with a wave and walked straight to talk to Slughorn, potion in hand.

“You’ve demonstrated to be a remarkable student the few months that you have been here darling.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And not only in potions, you were brilliant at the Quidditch game and I’ve heard good things from Professor Bins and Seraphina. Flitwick also speaks highly of you.”

You tilted your head slightly, a small “hum” escaping your lips, you were sure Slughorn wasn’t done with whatever he was about to say.

“And you’ve demonstrated time and time again to me that you are more than well-trained on potions.”

“It’s only been thanks to my pairing with Remus.”

“Ah… yes, your pairing with Mr. Lupin,” he said. “The way you switched the papers was undoubtedly clever.”

You gasped, “You realised?”

He just smiled, as if it had been obvious, “I picked the partners for everyone, of course, I knew. I just wasn’t sure how you’d managed to outmagic my spell. All at Potter’s request, I believe. He must have convinced you, that boy has been madly in love with Miss Evans for a while now.”

“But you didn’t say anything then.”

“If you had been smart enough to switch my charms, I assumed you’d be able to cope with Remus’ speed at potion making.”

“So you know he’s good.”

“Of course, Remus has always been remarkable.”

“Then why has he never been invited to the–”

“So you know why you’re here.”

“He might have mentioned something like a Christmas dinner.”

Slughorn nodded, “Yes, this is my cordial invitation to our dinner on the 20th of December. I know there’s still some time, but I thought you might want to know since you are always welcome to bring a guest along.”

“Could I bring Remus?”

“You may bring whomever you want.”

“But why isn’t he invited?” you pressed.

Slughorn gave you a look, you didn’t want to press too much, you had the suspicion it might have been due to bIood status, either that or Slughorn knew about his lycanthropy, either way, it just didn’t make sense to you that he wouldn’t invite Rem.

“For reasons that you are not and will not be aware of, I’m afraid,” he responded eventually.

“But I could bring him as my guest?”

“Yes, although I expected you to bring Mr. Black.”

That got you to pull your head back just a little, you had been so defensive over Remus, you had forgotten that the most logical person for you to bring along would be your actual boyfriend.

“Think about it,” Slughorn said with a small smile. “And tell me when you’ve made your choice. Now I don’t want to keep you for too long, it’s time to get to your next class.”

You gave him a courteous nod and left. You’d have to talk to Sirius about this.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @orkwardx0 @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversaurus @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn @poetrypirate @crazyhorseforgot @saturnhas82moons @ryeyeyer @itsthequackshire @maqqiekwon @desikudisworld

Leve a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

A/N: Well, do we wanna talk about the size or are we all just gonna ignore it like Miss Vixen? Also GUYS! Upon some requests, we have a DISCORD server now and you can all join in and chat about marauders and/or GC with other lovely people. If you wanna discuss a new oneshot or even the new chapters of GC this is your place to go. The announcement for it is here and I'll leave links to it on a reblog of this post ad in the comments.