#i already have him i want his constellations so BAD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingkatsuki · 8 months ago

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This is the first time in a long, long time that I’ve actually been proud of a fic so I really hope you enjoy it. I’m already formulating a second part in my mind, or maybe a third who knows.

Summary: Sanemi knew you would always be his beacon of light, the only brightness in this dark pathetic world. At night he’d stare up at the same night sky as you, wondering if this is what you were doing right now too— searching out for the North Star that would help guide him back home to you.

All you have with Sanemi Shinazugawa are fleeting moments together, while he tries so desperately not to give you his heart.

Warnings: 18+, blood!mention, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, foreplay, sex with feelings, light choking, Sanemi calls us a slut once, fingering, breeding!mention, slight spoilers for the final arc but moreso to do with Sanemi’s appearance.

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader.

Word Count: 6.3k.

You always enjoyed watching the stars. Constellations swirling above granted you a cherished moment to forget about the mundane routine of life. A welcome break between the early rise of working beneath your father at the family bakehouse, slaving away until each loaf was sold before leaving you to clean up the mess. The local Izakaya called his name as he would not return home until what little profit he’d earned was squandered.

You couldn't even blame him, this wasn’t the life that either of you had wanted or planned for.

Your brother, who was training to become a demon slayer, now dead. Your mother ran away with a travelling merchant she’d met in the village after as though to numb the pain of losing him. You weren’t even sure if she was still alive, but you wondered if she’d been granted the chance of a new start. A new family— forgetting all about you in the process as you were left to this pitiful existence with your drunk of a father.

This was the only time you truly felt serene. Your back was flat against the dewy grass as the cool evening chill whipped at your ankles, toes almost numb from the chill as your eyes met where one pattern ended and another began.

The crunch of footsteps through gravel broke you from your daydream as you jolted straight, wide eyes snapping towards the source of the noise as you noticed a white-haired man hunched over.

“Sanemi?” You had to blink to ensure your eyes weren’t deceiving you, the soft candlelight from your home only enough to add a gentle glow to your surroundings as you stood.

Bare feet rushed through sodden grass as you felt the ache of small pebbles digging into your soles as you made your way towards him, trying to ignore the way the gravel seemed to indent into your skin as you reached him. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him, the last time you’d felt him— you weren’t even certain he was still alive until now.

He stopped you when you were close enough, rough palms gripping your arms to keep you at bay. Sanemi’s touch was always bruising, but you knew better than to think he was trying to push you away. You’d learned a long time ago that he struggled to articulate his feelings, and something that once had your heart aching now filled you with a comforting warmth.

“I don’t want to get you dirty.” He shook his head, and it was then you noticed the blood and grime that doused him.

Wondering whether the blood was his, dried crimson caked his skin and the torn fabric of his haori. Wondering if he’d noticed, nor even cared if it was. You felt tears begin to clump in your lashes as you stared up at his lilac eyes, hands reaching out for him despite being held back as you gently prised yourself out of his grip.

“Didn’t I tell you not to stay out this late alone,” He growled, “It’s not safe.”

“I have the sword you left,” You smile up at him, anxious to reach out and hold him, “I remember how to use it.”

Sanemi feels his chest swell with pride that you do, after spending the time to teach you how to properly defend yourself from all the bad in the world. The darkness that shouldn’t sully your perfect soul, although he notices that the sword is nowhere to be seen in the grass beside you.

“I’m unsure what use it is to you when it’s lying more than a stone's throw away.”

“I’ll bring it with me next time,” You laugh, and Sanemi feels himself physically relax at the tone.

Once Sanemi was sure you weren’t going to jump him and ruin your pretty night kimono he let go, allowing you to reach up and place a palm against his cheek as he leaned into your touch. Your hands were freezing from being out in the cool evening air, but his cheek blazed with heat. It was comforting as he exhaled softly, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment to indulge himself with the feeling of you. The saccharine scent of you invaded his senses as his calloused palms found purchase on your hips, gripping you tight as though trying to convince himself that you were real.

His chest was heaving, which made you wonder if he’d struggled to make it here, noticing a fresh gash against his pectoral that answered your question about the source of all the blood.

“Sanemi, you’re hurt.” You mumbled, noticing the blood now dripping onto the gravel beneath your toes.

“‘m fine,” He shook his head, but the state of him seemed otherwise.

“No, you’re not,” You frowned, scrunching your nose so cutely that Sanemi had to physically restrain himself from leaning forward to kiss you.

“I’m fine, woman,” He barked, but there was no bite. Not to you, “I’ve dealt with far worse.”

“Even so,” You shook your head, taking one of his hands in your own, “I’d hate for you to have made it this far just to be scuppered by a surface wound.” Sanemi’s lips curled into a genuine smile at that, teeth bared as he allowed you to lead him back towards your home, “Let me bandage it up so it doesn’t become infected.”

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating the Wind Pillar, despite his numerous attempts to push you away. Telling you it was for your own good, to keep you safe. That you deserved better. And Sanemi was certain that was true, you deserved someone far better than him. Someone that would treat you well, and not leave you wondering whether you'd ever see him again. It was selfish really, for him to expect you to wait for him each time. To settle for fleeting moments and stolen kisses— but it was your fault, you’d done this. You’d made him fall for you. And what good was living a safe life if it didn’t include him?

You lead him around your small nagaya, the bills so high you were certain it wouldn’t be yours for much longer. But you didn’t want to trudge blood through the house and have to explain it to your father when he woke up.

“Let me carry you,” Sanemi started as he noticed your bare soles stepping through the pebbled path, his grip on your hand tightening.

He didn’t even question why you weren’t wearing sandals, like most other men probably would. He knew you loved the stars. It’s as though he understood the exact reason you’d been out here without them, despite the dangers of being alone and vulnerable so late at night. Sanemi knew every part of you, probably even better than you knew yourself and yet somehow he would never quite afford you that same luxury. Always trying to keep you at arm's length, in his own selfish way of protecting you. Or so he thought—

“I’m quite alright to walk, Shinazugawa.” You teased, and you could practically feel the growl vibrate through him once you’d called him by his family name.

“When have I ever been known as Shinazugawa to you?” He sneered, but followed behind as you opened the sliding door.

“I seem to remember you demanding I call you that when my brother trained under you, Shinazugawa.” You smiled softly, ignoring the gentle pang in your heart at the loss of your sibling, “I remember you calling me rather annoying too.”

“I called you a pain in my ass, actually.” He delighted in the sweet laughter that surrounded him at that memory, as he kicked his shoes off at the door.

Sanemi was silent as you sat him down on the wooden floor in the room where you slept as you began to grab the items you would need to patch him up, closing the sliding door behind you as you returned to find him dozing against your futon.

“Oi,” You teased, a habit you’d picked up from him, “Don’t fall asleep yet, you might have a concussion.”

“You think I’m foolish enough to let a demon near my head, woman?”

“No,” You smiled, kneeling beside him as you pulled back the open front of his demon slayer uniform, “But you are foolish enough to hit your head.”

Sanemi’s glare had you breaking out into a soft giggle as you tried to quieten yourself so as not to wake any of the sleeping occupants nearby, shaking your head as he allowed you to work at the wound that marked his skin. Teeth clenched as you pressed gauze against it before bandaging it to prevent dirt from entering the wound. You were glad it didn’t appear to be deep, and would certainly not leave a scar as impressive as the ones that already littered his skin. But as it was still bleeding when he’d arrived, you wondered how long it had been since his battle.

“Why did you come here?” You mumbled as you finished up your haphazard attempt at bandaging his wound. Something you’d learned to do the first time your father had returned home drunk and knocked his head falling over the entry step whilst removing his sandals. A skill you’d tried to hone over the years, but to this day it still seemed to be a work in progress.

But of course, Sanemi still came to you, even though he’d certainly receive better care from the Butterfly Mansion. Or at the very least a better dose of medication to relieve the pain— but time and time again he’d always leave you with the same response.

“I always find my way back to you.”

Which is why he navigated towards you like a compass searching for the North Star. And even after all this time, you still continued to ask the same question. Because you liked the sound of the answer that left his lips.

“You’re foolish to think I take better care of you than the Kakushi there,” You smiled down at him as he grumbled beneath you.

“And yet I’m still alive.”

“I’m unsure whether that’s by luck or chance, but it’s certainly not because of me.” You snort, shaking your head as you reach for the warm water you’d prepared to help clean his dirty skin. Soaking a soft cloth before you began to run it against his forehead and cheeks.

“There’s no need for that,” He scoffs, his large palm wraps around your wrist to pull you away from him as you frown.

“You’re filthy, Sanemi.” You scrunch your nose, “And you stink.”

You were ashamed to admit to him that you loved the way he smelt. His musky sweat was laced with the scent of grass and the rice bran he’d used to wash days earlier. You always found yourself basking in it, allowing it to intoxicate you as you fell even deeper.

“You’ve never had a problem with me being filthy before.” Sanemi ponders, his hand reaching up to smooth over the soft curve of your hip, “In fact, I’m certain I remember you saying you liked it.”

Your cheeks burned from his implication, feeling the neglected space between your thighs throb with desire as you subtly shifted thigh to thigh. A movement that didn’t go unnoticed by the hashira below you, a cocky smirk on his face as he flattened his palm on your lower back. Pushing down to bring you closer to him, your face hovering mere inches from his own as his warm breath fanned your face.

“I missed you,” You hum softly, admiring the way the flickering burn of your lantern illuminated his chiselled face. Your lips brushed over his own in the faintest kiss, his fingers tightening in the fabric of your nightdress as he tried to pull you back to repeat the motion.

“Not as much as me,” He husked, reaching his other hand up to hold the back of your neck. Two fingers dug into the curve while his calloused thumb stroked your jaw, reconnecting your lips in a deeper kiss. His nose bumped against yours before tilting his head to the side to push his tongue into your eager mouth, finding your own as he swallowed the desperate whine that threatened to spill.

You’d missed this, missed him. Your hands threaded through his messy white hair as your nails dragged against his scalp, causing Sanemi to grunt as he pulled you down to the futon beside him. Curving his frame over you as he groaned deep and low in his throat from the intense pain that shot through his side from the sudden movement.

“Sanemi, you shouldn’t move,” You stared up at him in worry as you broke the kiss, a snarl of irritation appearing on his face as he tried to bring you back to him, “You’re hurt.”

“Shut up,” He snarled, but there was no real malice behind it.

He was far rougher this time as if trying to prove to you that he was fit to do this— to take care of you. Settling himself between your parted thighs as you felt him lean himself on you, a comforting weight as you reconnected your lips. His kiss was far more ferocious, a mess of tongue and teeth as hands disappeared beneath the silken fabric of your night dress. Bunching the material around your hips as he lurched forward, pressing his desire against your clothed core as he swallowed your whines.

You could tell he was exercising restraint. Wanting nothing more than to rip the fabric from your quivering body and reveal your skin to him, but it would be left as evidence of your exploits. And since your father still thought his daughter was pure, it would be a foolish move. Instead, he pushed it higher, letting it settle above the swell of your naked breasts as he bit back a sigh. Teeth gnawing at his lower lip as he broke the kiss to indulge in the sight of you, thumbing the underside of your soft mounds as he watched your nipples stiffen to round peaks in the cool evening air.

How had he been so lucky to find you? To convince someone as perfect as you to lie with him? He had no clue, but he was certain it was evidence of the existence of ame. Not that he would ever make it there, and if this was the closest he’d ever get he would die content.

“Sanemi,” You cooed, breaking him away from his thoughts as you stroked your fingers along his neck. Following the curve of his collarbones as Sanemi dipped his head lower, lips circling one of your taut nipples as he sucked hard. Glaring up at you with purple eyes when you moaned loud, immediately biting down hard on your lip you were certain you’d drawn blood.

“If you can’t be quiet when I touch you here—” He reached a palm up to grope your other breast for emphasis, moulding the skin between his fingers as he massaged gently, “Then how will I be able to feast on your cunt?”

You were noisy. So much so that Sanemi had to press his palm to your mouth to quieten you, a crude smirk on his lips as he nuzzled the junction between your breasts. Kissing a path down your stomach as he followed every line and curve, removing his hand from your mouth when he was more certain you’d be quiet as he reached down to curl his fingers into your panties. Pulling them down your thighs to bare you to him completely.

“Beautiful.” He hummed beneath his breath as his thumbs spread you open, cherishing the way your slick broke off into silvery strings against your folds, “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” You felt hot beneath his sweltering gaze, heart pounding against your ribcage as he settled on his stomach. Pressing the softest kiss to the top of your mound before curling his forearms beneath your parted thighs, shamelessly inhaling the scent of you as he pressed another kiss against you, this time to your sensitive clit.

“Fuck,” The motion had your hips bucking wildly, his palm splayed flat against your pelvis as he tightened his grip around your thighs.

“Still so sensitive,” He murmured, granting you another lingering kiss as he tasted you on his lips, “Is this how much she missed me?”

“Don’t talk like that, Sanemi.” And it wasn’t because he was talking to your cunt and not to you, it was the crude words that seemed to flow from his lips so effortlessly that left your stomach swirling in knots and a delicious ache between your thighs.

“Oh?” He hummed, dragging his tongue through the mess you’d— he’d made between your thighs, “Are you saying she didn’t miss me? Was there another keeping you satisfied while I was gone?”

You could hear the jealousy behind his words, the cruel lilt to his voice that had him digging his fingertips into your skin just that much harder. Sanemi was no fool, he knew you’d make the perfect wife for many respectable men. And he was certain that none would refuse— it wasn’t peculiar to think that you had offers while he was gone, or at the very least the promise of your father selling you to pay off his debts.

But you couldn’t tell him the truth right now. That your father had been searching for a suitor for you, finally settling on one that he deemed fit (and it certainly wasn’t because he was the highest bidder). A man from the next village over who would look after you, you were assured. A man that you could happily live out the rest of your days with, and give up the long hours spent in your father's bakery.

You were certain if Sanemi knew he would see red, even if there was no chance of him asking for your hand instead. A Demon Slayer, a Hashira no less, would make the perfect prize for any young woman. Easily setting you up for life, even if they didn’t make it out alive, nor make it past their twenty-fifth birthday. It was why so many were reluctant to take on wives, content with aiding their needs with the local courtesans whenever they’d rest for the night.��

Your father still thought of you as pure, a virgin. If he found out he’d surely sell you to the local brothel to pay off his debts instead, a life far worse than a loveless marriage you supposed. But it wouldn’t make a difference when none of those paths led you to Sanemi.

“It’s only ever been you,” You spoke softly and sincerely as you stared down at your lover, an answer that seemed to appease him as he nuzzled your soft cunt. Unabashedly licking a long stripe from the tight rim of your asshole all the way through your slick, causing you to whine beneath him as his tongue delved deeper, pushing inside your fluttering hole.

“Good.” He spoke against your sex, your fingers winding through his messy hair as you rolled your hips against his face. The flat of his tongue lapped at you as though tasting the sweetest ambrosia, nose nudging your clit as he ate you out with urgency. Moaning into your cunt as he pushed his tongue as deep as it would go, lashing against your inner walls as you writhed against tousled sheets.

You gasped as he added his two right fingers, curling them inside you as he pressed them against the spongy spot inside you that he knew like the back of his hand. His lips wrapped around your puffy clit as he sucked hard, eyes staring up at you from his position as he watched you come apart for him. Your walls trembling in the throws of your climax that surged through you in harsh waves. You’d expected him to stop, to allow you a moment's respite, but he didn’t. Devouring you like a man starved as he continued to feast on your cunt. You were trying desperately to keep quiet, your own hand clamping over your mouth in a feeble attempt to silence yourself as your debauched moans still broke through.

Not that Sanemi was much quieter, the lewd smack of his lips against your sopping folds filled the room as he slurped at your slick. Collecting it in his mouth before crudely spitting it back down on your clit, letting it dribble towards your greedy hole where his fingers were fucking into you with vigour. Feeling your walls clamp down around his ring and pinky finger as he worked you through your climax, intent on giving you another before he even thought about pulling away.

He made it difficult to think as blown eyes stared up at the ceiling, your thighs clamping down around his head as you tried to push him off your overstimulated heat.

“Stop squirmin’,” He snarled against your clit, showcasing his sheer display of strength as he tugged your thighs open for him again, “I know you can take it, and you will.”

Your hole throbbed around his fingers at his crude tone, the pleasure swirling in your pelvis as he worked to draw another orgasm from your pliant body. Watching the way you were trying to blink back tears as he sucked your clit hard, thrashing beneath him as he felt it surge through you in harsh waves.

“Sanemi,” You choked back a sob as you felt the pleasure consume you, thighs trembling as your cunt gushed and throbbed around his digits. Smirking against your slit in satisfaction as he worked you through it, lapping at your clit as you mewled pathetically.

“So beautiful.” He hummed, smacking his lips in satisfaction as he finally pulled away to give you a moment to calm your racing heart. Shamelessly suckling at his fingers as he cleaned your release from them, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against the apex of your thighs.

You gasped as a sudden pain surged through you, feeling Sanemi’s teeth bite down onto the supple skin of your inner thigh as he began to suck a deep bruise into your flesh. Causing your body to convulse as he left his mark on you. He was never foolish enough to leave anything in plain sight, evidence of your debauchery and certain to sign your courtesan sentence. This was his way of leaving his lingering presence on your body, to claim you as his. The subtle ebb of it whenever you walked evidence that you belonged to him— because no matter what, you would always be his.

He pressed a final, soothing kiss to the wound as he moved up your body, settling your thighs over his own as he busied himself with undoing his belt. Letting the top of his uniform settle around his waist as he bared his top half. Slapping your greedy hands away as you reached between your thighs to grab at his thick, heavy cock. The weight of it had it drooping down towards the floor, forking veins following the length of it as they lead towards a blushing uncut tip leaking with pre.

“Don’t you dare,” He chastised as you gave him a needy pout, licking your lips at the thought of how long it had really been, “You know I won’t last.”

You boldly ogled him, watching as he wrapped himself in a strong fist to give himself some relief. Pulling the foreskin back as he smoothed the leaking tip between your dripping folds, covering himself in your slick. Gasping as the bulging head nudged your clit, before it caught against your fluttering hole. Your desperate cunt tried to coax him in as you started to roll your hips towards him invitingly.

“I’m sure you’ve become a greedy succubus since we met,” He goads, grinning down at you whilst pressing the fat tip of his cock against your tight entrance, “So damn needy.”

“It’s your fault,” You bite back, “You’ve turned me into this.”

“Oh, yeah?” He hums pensively, pushing his hips forward as he feels your hole begin to swallow him, “I’ve turned you into a desperate little slut?”

“Only for you.” You cry out when he cants his hips forward at your response, burying his cock inside you with one rough thrust.

“F-uck,” Sanemi’s eyes roll as he feels your cunt consume him whole. His balls pressed snugly against the curve of your ass as the messy hairs sat at the base tickle your clit.

Sanemi had always felt big, the sensation always caught in your throat whenever he’d fill you to the brim. Your exploits are few and far between when he lived the life of a Hashira, never knowing when would be the next time— or if this would be your last. But he always granted you a moment to adjust to his size and a chance for him to admire the way your throat bobbed and your eyes rolled as you felt him fill you whole.

Sanemi settled himself on his forearms on either side of you, his chest pressed skin to skin, so close you could feel each other's heartbeats. His hands held your head as he began to push his hips forward, starting a steady pace as he ground into you.

“I’ve missed you,” He rasped, resting his forehead against yours as his gaze bore into your own. Your arms wound around his body to cling to his muscular back, nails leaving crescent-shaped moons in their wake as the blunt head of his cock carved you into the shape of him.

“I missed you too,” You whine, trying to choke back a moan as you pressed your lips to his, “Missed you so much.”

Your thighs clung to his muscular waist, holding him tight as he ground into you. Sending delicious friction directly to your clit as you tried to pull him impossibly closer, wanting to feel every part of him. The curve of his heavy cock was perfectly positioned to drag against the spot inside you that he knew better than the back of his hand, focusing his attention on it with each roll of his hips.

“Taking me so well,” He groaned, already feeling the telltale signs of your impending climax, “Good girl.”

You were Sanemi’s proof that there was still good in the world, that there were still some things worth saving, worth cherishing. His nose brushed against yours as he brought you into another sensual kiss, swallowing the desperate cries that wracked through your body as you tried desperately to keep quiet. Your nails dragged crimson red lines down the expanse of his back as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of another climax, leaving marks he was proud to wear as your toes began to curl.

The coil inside you snapped roughly as you were propelled into your climax. Your entire body convulsing as you came undone, harsh waves of pleasure crashed through you as Sanemi swallowed his name from your throat.

He pulled back to watch you, tilting his head to the side as he fucked you through your release. His mouth was no longer able to conceal the desperate pants that escaped and mixed with the sound of skin against skin as he continued his rough pace.

You turned your head to the side on your soft pillow, shy at the way he was looking at you as he loomed over you. The feeling had your stomach swirling in knots as he brought his hand to your jaw to pull your attention back to focus on him.

“You were so concerned about being loud,” He goaded, leaning forward to wrap his fingers around the column of your throat, “But here you are trying to wake the entire village.”

Your cunt clenched at that, hard. Causing Sanemi to smirk in satisfaction as he started to press down on your windpipe, feeling the way your cunt tightened in response as his hulking form curved over you. Using your body for his own pleasure as he felt the intense heat blazing from between your thighs. Tits bouncing from the ferocity of his thrusts, as you proceeded to wonder if he might actually want you both to be caught like this. So he could finally tell your father that he was taking you away from this and making you, his.

“Oi,” Sanemi’s fingers pulsed against your neck, trying to bring your focus back to him, “Are you still with me? Or have I fucked all sense from you?”

Sanemi’s grin was maniacal as your cunt clenched around him in response, your head lolling back against the pillow as he kept his bruising pace. Unable to do much from this position but lay back and take it as he used your body for his own pleasure.

You felt delirious, the pleasure all-consuming as Sanemi drove his hips forward. Thrusting into you with the stamina and precision only a Hashira could have, his perception telling him exactly how to move in order to have you writhing beneath him as he focused his attention on that same spongy spot inside you. Focusing his thrusts as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with each forward motion, dragging his length against your g-spot each time he pulled back.

“Such a greedy little thing,” He provokes, each word annunicated with a rut of his hips. Certain he won’t be able to last much longer, your hips buck up against him and he can feel your slick drooling down his length and coating his balls.

Your hands are fisting the thin sheet covering your futon now, groaning when you realise that he’s trying to hold back. Waiting for you to climax once more before he affords himself the same relief. And it’s hard to hold back, especially when you look so innocent and malleable beneath him. You really were far too good for the likes of him.

Sanemi wonders what he would be like if he did cum inside you, coating your pliant walls with his sticky spend. Imagining how pretty and ethereal you’d look all plump and round as you carry his child, giving him an heir to the Shinazugawa name and carrying his family on through generations. Thinking of the docile life he could spend with you, living the rest of your days peacefully and away from all the trials and tribulations that come with being a Hashira.

But a life like that would never be possible, not when there is still a single demon out there wandering the streets and waiting to destroy every unblemished part of his life. The image of losing you is too much for him to bear, the mere thought of it has an immeasurable pain shooting through him and striking him straight through the heart. Sanemi would do anything to keep you safe, and if it meant being alone for the rest of his days or sacrificing himself for you— he’d do it.

And what’s worse is Sanemi knew you’d let him cum inside you, your mind already fucked stupid and completely intoxicated with arousal. He bets he could get you to agree to anything when you’re like this, so desperate and compliant beneath him. You’d let him bury his cock inside you to the hilt and shoot rope after rope of his hot spend inside your fertile womb.

He’s sweating now. Letting go of your neck in favour of gripping onto your soft hips, the perfect child-bearing hips as he has to bite back a moan. Breaking skin as he gnaws at his bottom lip hard, nose scrunched as he feels the tip of his cock presses snugly against your cervix with each forward motion.

“Sanemi,” You practically sing his name as a warning as he feels the way your walls convulse around his heavy cock, desperately trying to milk him of his release, “I’m cumming, oh god, I’m cumming.”

He doesn’t bother silencing you this time, indulging in the whiny lilt of your voice as he feels you gush around him. Almost forgetting that he’s supposed to be pulling out as he curses beneath his breath, the coil inside his pelvis snaps abruptly as he manages to pull out, just barely— thick, hot ropes of his potent seed spurt against your quivering cunt as they coat your folds. His rough hand wraps around himself to jerk it roughly as more land against your pelvis and stomach, some making it as far as the underside of your breasts as his chest heaves.

You’re a mess, he thinks as he stares down at the remnants of his spend. His cock still leaking with a final few trickles of his release as he smears it against your inner thigh before sitting back on his haunches to admire the scene. Silvery white coats your clit, drooling all the way down to the curve of your ass as it disappears between your cheeks, settled on top of your mound as it leaves streaky lines along your tummy and then spots around your breasts. But still part of him regrets not finishing inside you, emptying his balls inside your warm, wet cunt to claim you as his.

It’s a bad idea, terribly really— but he can’t help himself, as Sanemi leans down to collect some of his spend on your clit against his thumb, revelling in the way you keen against him from the sensitivity as he dips it lower and pushes it inside your creamy, abused hole. Watching with curious, lilac eyes at how easily and eagerly your body sucks it in. The mess disappears inside your trembling walls as he fucks it deeper, pulling out to smear the rest into your clit as your body shivers and pushes it out with the aftershocks of your climax.

“It’s too much, Sanemi.” You mumble tiredly, trying to cling to his forearms as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

He reaches over to the bowl of water you’d brought in for him, wincing at how tepid it is now as he submerges the cloth, wringing it out between rough fingers as he begins to clean you up. Starting with the drying cum that coats your body as goosebumps begin to prickle your skin from how gentle he is, taking his time to clean the cloth and repeat the process as he nears the junction of your legs. Cleaning his spend from your inner thighs before running the cloth through your sticky folds, pressing a kiss to your knee as you whine about how sensitive you are as he tries to clean you with as much care as he can— As though he’s frightened you might break. He’s gentle as he pulls your nightgown back down your body, smoothing the fabric as he smiles down at you softly.

Sanemi doesn’t bother cleaning himself and refuses your help when you offer it. Perfectly content to leave your drying slick coating his skin as he pulls his pants back up, preparing to tighten his belt before he looks down at the dejected expression on your face.

“Are you not staying for a while, Sanemi?” You mumble softly. Acutely aware that it’s a risk to ask something so bold of him, especially when your father could walk in at any time and catch you with the Wind Hashira.

His gaze softens in a way reserved just for you as he cups your cheek, rough fingers catching against your soft skin as he leans down to connect your lips in a sensual kiss. Wordlessly dropping to the futon beside you as he pulls you into his arms, burying your face in his chest as you listen to the rhythm of his heart beating hard and fast. His fingers stroke absentminded patterns against your back as he buries his nose into the top of your head, greedily surrounding himself with your scent as he cherishes the moment. Trying to commit everything to memory so he can remember this on those dark days when he’s without you.

This should’ve been the moment you told him about the possibility of your father marrying you off, but you couldn’t. He didn’t need to know, and it was better this way. You could tell him in the morning, he was already tired from his travels and you wanted this happiness to last just that little longer.

But you didn’t realise that he’d be gone by morning, the only sign he was ever here was the dirty water, and drops of blood that soaked into the hardwood, and stuck to the fabric of your nightdress. Each time he left you like this, it had you wondering whether that would be the last time you’d see him.

Sanemi knew you would always be his beacon of light, the only brightness in this dark pathetic world. At night he’d stare up at the same night sky as you, wondering if this is what you were doing right now too— searching out for the North Star that would help guide him back home to you.

#sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #sanemi smut #sanemi shinazugawa smut #sanemi x you #sanemi shinazugawa x you #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #kny smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut

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inkdrinkerworld · 2 months ago

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Cw: brief mention of past childhood abuse/trauma, talk of not being good parents. This is representation for the girlies (gn) that are unsure about being parents/know they don’t want kids! You’re perfect and valid

Sirius Black x fem!reader (one use of girl at the end there)

“I don’t think I’d want to have kids.” You say to Sirius as you lay beside him, your head on his shoulder as he tickles your back.

It’s an abrupt confession seeing as neither of you had been talking about that, but Sirius just hums.

“Any reason why, poppet?” His voice is even. To be truthful, Sirius goes back and forth with the idea too.

You take a while to elaborate; “I think having to help raise my siblings, and then dealing with all of that stress and having to correct my brother’s actions and all of that,” you take a breath. “I think it took it out of me. I also really don’t want to screw up a kid.”

Sirius nods, a kiss to your cheek. He feels you inhale against his hand and waits for you to speak again, “Would that make our relationship harder? Would it be a deal breaker?”

He pulls back to get a good look at you. “Because you don’t want babies?” When you nod, Sirius shakes his head. “No, doll. I don’t think I want kids either, but especially so if you don’t want them.”

“Don’t say that just to agree with me, Siri.” You sigh and Sirius copies you.

“I’m not. I go back and forth with it just as you do. Most days I’m leaning towards it just being me and you.” His voice is too raw and earnest for you to doubt him.

You breathe out long, “I just,” you pause, picking your words. “We’ve both had shitty childhoods, I don’t know if we’d be good parents. No one can be perfect and I don’t want to fuck up a kid that didn’t have the choice of being here; I know that much for certain.”

“I think that’s a good thing to know, babe. We aren’t what happened to us and while we’re better now, we can’t predict how we’ll be despite our best efforts with our own kids, you’re right. I wouldn’t want to fuck them up either.”

They fall when you say, “Does that make me a bad person? That I wouldn’t risk it because raising my siblings was like me having kids already and really don’t want to fuck them up like we were?”

He doesn’t like that this has been troubling you. Sirius knows you better than anyone else on planet earth and he knows for you to cry like this means you’ve thought about this a lot.

He hates that you’ve been tormenting yourself over not wanting kids for so long.

Sirius pulls you closer when your tears turn to sobs, his arms firm weight around your back as he kisses your eyes. Salty tears pass through the seam of his lips.

“That doesn’t make you a bad person, poppet. That makes you a good person actually. We can keep our family just like this. Me, you, the birds you feed in the yard and maybe a dog later down the road.”

“And a cat,” you say all sniffly and Sirius wrinkles his nose.

“If you really want a cat, I’ll get you a cat. Just no more thinking it’s wrong to not want kids.” You nod, content to let Sirius pet you as your cries slow.

“You’ll still love me the most right?” He laughs, tilting your chin up and kissing your lips.

“I love you best, silly girl. Always will, even if we had kids.” You slap his chest and Sirius shrugs. “Maybe that’s how I know I’m not cut out, I don’t think I could put someone over you.” He laughs suddenly. “Fuck that’s sounds horrid.”

You wiggle onto his chest, kissing the constellation he got for you. “Doesn’t sound horrid. Dunno if I could handle not being top of your love list.” You say teasingly and Sirius smiles, all pleased that even with your red nose and slightly puffy eyes you’re okay.

Pride blooms in his chest as it does every time he assuages your worries. “Well, you never have to worry, poppet. Now gimme a kiss and let’s finish this episode of Bake Off.”

#siriusblack #sirius black #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one shot #sirius black drabble #sirius black imagine #sirius black angst #sirius black fic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fluff #sirius black blurb #sirius black x black reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x yn #sirius black x y/n

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

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jake with a shy!reader i feel like that man would be so down bad he’d be unrecognizable to his friends

Tailgating by the beach means sand in your hair (and everywhere else), a trash can full of beer bottles, and a whole lot of wipeouts. For most.

For you, it means Jake’s sweatshirt bunched up under your head like a pillow as your back rests against the metal grooves of his pickup’s bed. Your pinky is intertwined with the man’s own as you stargaze, avoiding the cloud of smoke billowing up from the bonfire.

“That one looks like an F-35.” He informs you, pointing at a constellation that is definitely not a fighter plane.

“I think that’s Draco.” You hum, “Not sure, though.”

Jake turns to you with a furrow in his brow, “That little shit from Harry Potter?”

“No!” You shriek, louder than you’re used to speaking. Jake has a way of making you forget your reservations, giving you the courage to speak up around him.

“It’s a constellation.” You quiet yourself, feeling Jake’s pinky tighten around yours. “I read that it was supposed to be in the sky tonight.”

“You read up on the stars?” Jake turns to you, propped on his side in the truck bed. It must be awful on his hips, but he does it anyways to gaze at your side profile.

You give him a front view, turning your head to stare back at him, “I didn’t do it on purpose, I just saw it on Instagram, I think. On someone’s story.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but neglects to return to stargazing. He’s yougazing now, his eyes tracing the curve from your chin to your cheek, then sloping down the bridge of your nose.

“Do you think-”

You’ll never know if you and Jake share thoughts on whatever matter is in his head, because a sudden thud against the mouth of the truck bed makes you startle, and Jake nearly breaks his neck sitting up to see who made the noise. You draw yourself upright but slower, more cautiously.

It’s one of his squadron members, you’ve seen the guy before in passing, but you don’t think he’s ever noticed you. He’s on the shorter side, and he’s quickly flanked by both Coyote and a taller, unknown counterpart.

“Hangman,” The short one snickers, “I was betting you were passed out somewhere with a bottle in your mouth, not schmoozing some poor woman in your truck.”

You’ve met Javy before, albeit briefly when you’d passed in the hallway of his and Jake’s shared apartment, and in the few terrifying seconds of confrontation your eyes stray over the man’s shoulder and meet Javy’s. He sends you a kind, sympathetic smile at the antics of his friend. You feel safe around him.

“What’s your name, honey?” The taller man leans over the side of the truck bed, a smirk on his face, “Last one was Brenda- no, Brianna.”

“Payback, that was months ago.” Javy snaps, and even though you know it’s true, Jake still looks guilty. He’d confessed in you that he wasn’t exactly a saint when it came to past relations, but all that mattered was the present for you; that you were the only one in it, and he’s stuck to that without a problem.

“I’m not schmoozing her, Fanboy.” Jake drawls, a vicious look in his eyes, “We were trying to have a private moment.”

Fanboy elbows Payback incredulously, shit-eating grins already on their faces, “Sex in a pickup! On the beach, in public. Jesus, man, there’s nothin’ you won’t do.”

“I won’t hesitate to break your nose if you don’t shut your mouth,” Jake seethes, and his free hand tenses into a fist even if he’s more bark than bite. Fanboy doesn't flinch, but Payback's smirk dims.

"Lay off, man." Coyote elbows Fanboy, "It's not like that."

"The only reason you've never met'er before is 'cause I knew you'd act like this," Jake scoffs, "Doesn't mean she's some cheap fling."

You desperately want to intervene, but you don't have the words to do it even if you tried. There's a thousand swirling in your brain, but there's a stopper in its drain to your mouth, a thick clog of panic.

"Well what is your name?" Payback repeats his question, more considerate this time. You're glad he seems to have dropped his bravado, even if you're not sure Fanboy has.

"Y/N," You manage to speak, glad that you know your own name well enough to utter it even when your brain doesn't cooperate. You don't say much else, though, and Javy fills in for your silence.

"She's Jake's girl," Javy smiles at you, happy to see his friend settling down, "She's not big on talking. Not to assholes like you, anyways."

"Well that's great," Fanboy's demeanor is much nicer when he's not goading his teammate, "'Cause Jake never shuts up. Sounds like a match made in heaven."

"I'm gonna send you to hell if you don't leave us alone," Jake glares pointedly at Fanboy in particular, but the expression is extended to Payback as well, "I wasn't kidding, we were having a conversation."

"That's our cue," Coyote informs the other two, who knew but weren't willing to give up their teasing leverage. He rings an arm each around their necks, bidding you a kind goodbye as he leads them away.

"Darlin'," Jake turns to you as soon as they're gone, like a guard dog that eases out of attack mode, "I'm so sorry. They don’t mean any harm, just- they seriously don't know when to quit, 'probably comes from bein' so aggressive in the air. I'm sorry they were so pushy."

"It's alright," You nod, "It's not your fault, Jake. I'm not angry, I just- I was a little embarrassed."

"I know," He hums sympathetically, leaning in to peck your lips, "I know baby. Listen, now they've met you, they'll probably back off. And if they don't, if you see 'em around somewhere and they try messin' with you, you let me know and I might accidentally fire on 'em in an exercise."

"I don't think you should murder your friends," You tamp down a smile at Jake's suggestion, because the last thing he needs is encouragement, "But I hope I don't see them when you're not around."

A hundred feet away, down on the smooth, wet sand of the shore, Coyote finally lets Payback and Fanboy go, shoving their heads down with the force of his grip around their necks.

"Ow, dude!" Fanboy gripes, but he deserves it the most, "If I'm gonna break my neck it's gonna be in the air, in some sick-ass stunt maneuver."

"Your sick ass needs to learn to shut up," Coyote scoffs, "He's serious about that girl, man! And I wouldn't be surprised if she was running for the hills now."

"C'mon, Coyote, we were just teasing," Payback pleads his case, but Coyote narrows his eyes.

"You can't tease her, not like that. Hell, the first time she ever came over I made a joke about wearing noise-cancelling headphones for them and she couldn't look me in the eye for weeks."

"The first time she came over," Payback's brow furrows, "He's been bringing her around your guys' place?"

"I told you he was serious," Coyote throws a glance back over to Jake's truck, where his hand is pointed in the air once more, "Know any other reason he'd be stargazing right now?"

Fanboy's face wrinkles in a confused grimace, "Stargazing? He's way too douchey for that."

"He's way too in love not to," Payback marvels, "Holy shit. That's- I can't process that, man, that's weird."

"Get used to it," Coyote takes a swig of his beer, "Y'know he's been lighting candles in our apartment for her? I mean, it's nice, 'cause it gets rid of his nasty laundry smell, but candles. Hangman, candles!"

Fanboy rears his head back, "What scent?"

"Lavender."

"Lavender?"

"I know!"

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months ago

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Hi! I'm just curious how aventurine would react when he caught his partner or crush looking at him and when he asked why, their reply would be that they like his eyes?

Aventurine has noticed that you have been staring at him for a while and had it been anyone one else he wouldn’t question it much, assuming that they knew him and his face due to his ties with the IPC; however since it was you who was looking at him, Aventurine found himself wordlessly adjusting his clothes and the watch on his wrist as though his life depended on it.

He wondered what about him could be so fascinating for you to be staring at him as though he hung the moon, the stars and the constellations and their well known tales of triumph and tragedy.

To Aventurine there wasn’t much about him to admire in the same way you did now and he secretly wished you didn’t look at him the way you did because it made him think that -by some miracle- he had a chance with you.

He was a loser, a hopeless loser, a pathetic liar, a shallow man born without a heart to spare the smallest of sympathies to another person going through turmoil. He didn’t deserve the soft admiration of your eyes on him, nor the way your lips would form a smile directed his way, at least that’s what he thought.

So one day when he caught you looking at him again, he decided to act on his curiosity and ask in hopes that some questions he had lingering within his head would finally be answered.

Why did you look at him as though he gave life meaning? Like he was the only thing in the known universe and why did you always smile at him when he couldn’t even bring himself smile at his own reflection in the mornings?

‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring at me recently,’ he begins, a cheshire grin spread across his lips as he closes in on you. ‘So I’ve come to ask what about me seems to have you captivated these days?’ Aventurine awaits for you to tell him that you weren’t actually looking at him but more or less what he was standing in front of or-

‘Your eyes.’ You responded almost immediately and without shame, cutting the blonde from his overthinking as he looked at you with wide eyes, the smile slipping from his face.

‘Come again.’ He says.

‘Your eyes,’ you repeated, ‘I really like your eyes, they’re so pretty and so unique to you.’ You finished, not once ever looking away from his eyes as they stared back at you with an array of conflicting emotions that clashed before your very eyes.

‘My…eyes…’ aventurine trailed off as though this was all new to him. ‘You like my eyes?’ He questions as he looked at you for answers.

You look at him with concern, not having seen this side of him before. ‘Yeah I thought I already said that…why is that a bad thing to admit?’ You asked him this time as you both sat in somewhat awkward silence.

‘No, it’s not.’ Aventurine chuckles after a while, genuinely smiling to himself. ‘It’s just that I’ve heard that being said so many times before but when you say it, I truly believe that you find my eyes beautiful.’

‘Of course your eyes are beautiful.’ You said as you placed a reassuring hand on his and squeezed reassuringly. ‘I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t find them to be remarkable, one of a kind and breathtaking simultaneously.’ You tell him all the while looking into his eyes, yes they were dull but that didn’t stop you from loosing your breath every time they looked directly at you. No words could express the feeling you get when looking into his eyes, and it saddens you greatly because you wanted nothing more then the tell Aventurine just how you felt about his eyes and about him in general.

Aventurine didn’t know what to say to all that, he really didn’t, his brain had gone blank, he was suddenly without a voice and his face was flustered to the high heavens from your words alone. How was it that you could be this sweet and be so casual about it too, maybe this was something he wouldn’t understand until far later in life, where he was older and far wiser then he is now.

So all he does is squeeze your hand back in kind and smiles softly as he says. ‘Thank you, I find your eyes pretty remarkable too.’

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail imagines #Honkai star rail imagine #aventurine x reader #aventurine imagine #aventurine imagines #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr aventurine imagine #hsr aventurine imagines

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sunsburns · 7 months ago

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kiss of life (iii.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

masterlist

summary: you have never doubted aphrodite when it comes to soulmates, she's the goddess of love, she knows what she's doing and you're getting pretty sick of people telling you she's made a mistake with your soulmate, specifically. you refuse to believe that she could be wrong, but luke castellan is making it really hard for you to have hope.

—or: you and luke are off on your quest you're totally not having second thoughts about choosing him, he's your soulmate after all... right?

word count: 3.2k

warnings: filler chapter (sorry gang), reader's pov, reader is lowkey unreliable and is hiding something, pre-tlt, luke's character is kinda inconsistent but whatever, angsty fight with luke and reader, low-key happy ending

a/n: everyone might've moved on but i'm still here 😔… gang i think i’m coming back to my active era (no one cheered) anyways there’s so much i wanna write for this series so enjoy this little filler!

You'd always been a fan of bad ideas, but choosing Luke Castellan as your companion for the duration of your quest had to be your worst one yet. You felt a pang of doubt, questioning your choice, especially after witnessing the outcome of his quest—a failure that seemed impossible to shake off from the whispers of other campers. A failure your siblings wouldn't let you forget.

"I was there when he came back. I know what happened," you muttered, frustration creeping into your voice as you stuffed clothes into your bag.

Your siblings meant the world to you. You cherished the bond you shared—the familial camaraderie that bound your cabin together. As the eldest, you revelled in guiding and nurturing them, relishing the role of guardian and friend within your cabin's close-knit circle. Yet, like any family, they can sometimes be suffocatingly overbearing.

Alexis, your brother, ever ready to smack a reality check, had been the first to warn you against choosing Luke Castellan, and now he spearheaded a group of your siblings, all urging you to reconsider with reason.

"But that's just it. You don't know. Not really. None of us do." Alexis told you, reclining against the shared vanity in your cabin. The absence of the younger kids, off with Chiron for a lesson on constellations, offered you some peace of mind, sparing them from witnessing the escalating intervention.

As Silena sifted through the clothes strewn across your bed, her soft humming filled the room, a stark contrast to the weighty silence that hung over the conversation. "No one but Chiron and Mr. D knows what happened on that quest. He refuses to talk about it." she mused.

"There's not a lot of glory in that." Alexis shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"He's been so weird and different since he returned," Silena added, "I remember he used to smile. It was such an attractive smile. And he used to talk... He barely ever talks anymore."

Alexis snorted, "That's called depression, Silena."

"It's just so sad." She frowned and sat on your bed, her gaze distant, "Pretty people don't deserve to be depressed."

"Amen to that."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their melodramatic exchange, a fleeting smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you focused on folding another pair of pants.

"He still talks." You said.

"But it's not the same," Alexis countered, his expression grave. Deep down, you knew he was right.

"And the way he's treated you," Silena scoffed, "constantly icing you out..."

"Avoiding you for months..." Alexis added, stepping closer to you with a solemn expression. "Refusing to even talk to you."

When he tried to put his hand on your shoulder, you couldn't help but shrug it off, not wanting his sympathy.

Their reminders, well-intentioned though they may be, served only to deepen the wound already festering within you. Like a knife twisted in your back, the memories of Luke's avoidance and unanswered questions pierced your thoughts with relentless precision. You vividly recalled the disappointment etched across his face in the infirmary, a silent testament to his dismay upon discovering your role in his fate. The weight of his unspoken words hung heavily in the air, a haunting reminder of the rift that had formed between you before it even started.

Your siblings were very careful with their next words: "Do you think that maybe... just this once... Aphrodite got it wrong?"

With a heavy heart, you stormed out of the cabin, your mind reeling with conflicting emotions. You swore up and down to Alexis and Silena that you were fine, that you only needed air. The need for clarity drove you to seek solace in the quiet embrace of nature, the gentle flicker of a breeze offering a touch of comfort amidst the turmoil raging within.

Throughout your life, your unwavering loyalty to your mother, Aphrodite, and the Gods has been a source of solace and guidance. You found comfort in the subtle manifestations of them, from the celestial dance of stars to the gentle caress of sunlight filtering through the trees. Even in the casual interactions of everyday life, you sought traces of your mother's hand guiding your path.

As you gazed into the dancing flames, the remnants of fruit smouldering in their fiery embrace in a tin can, you found yourself caught between hope and despair during your offering for your mother. Silena's words echoed in your mind, a harsh truth you were reluctant to confront. Maybe you didn't have a soulmate. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you're unlovable.

Yet, amidst the cloud of doubt, a flicker of defiance ignited within you. The mere thought that Aphrodite could be mistaken in matters of love seemed impossible to you. You had witnessed firsthand the intricate tapestry of fate woven by her hand, guiding souls to their destined counterparts with unfailing precision.

The yearning for that connection, that soul-deep bond, burned within you like a beacon in the darkness of uncertainty. It was a desire as old as time itself, the longing to find solace and belonging in the embrace of another.

As the flames dwindled to embers, their dying glow casting flickering shadows upon the ground, your prayers went unanswered.

The weight of your impending quest pressed upon you like a heavy cloak. Questions tumbled over one another in a relentless cascade, each one a dagger aimed at the heart of your resolve. Where would you need to go? Would you need to defend yourself? Would monsters come after you? Should you choose someone else? Could it be that Luke was nothing to you but a mistaken thread tethered into your life?

Your shoes stepped over twigs and dry leaves on the ground until you stepped out of the forest. Passing by the armoury, you forced a smile upon your lips. You forced yourself to be excited for your first quest rather than dread it. It was a rare privilege bestowed upon a child of Aphrodite, you should honour it.

As you approached the heart of camp again, the familiar clang of sword meeting dummy rumbled through the night air. The rhythmic sound, though commonplace in the realm of demigod training, carried an ominous weight under the cover of darkness. You would have assumed that all campers were asleep.

Luke Castellan, a boy who had become synonymous with the darker days since his return from his quest, stood amidst the training grounds, his silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight. The sight of him, bathed in the ghostly shine, was haunting. With each precise strike of his sword, a muted testament to the rage that plagued his restless spirit, he seemed to exude an aura of both determination and despair.

No wonder you were so exhausted.

You dared not meet his gaze, instead keeping your head bowed as you navigated the familiar path through the training grounds. Every fibre of your being screamed for you to move faster, yet the pull of his presence was undeniable. Despite your best efforts to remain unseen, Luke's voice cut through the night, calling out your name with a sense of urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

Shit.

With a sinking heart, you felt his hand land on your shoulder, stopping your escape. You couldn't avoid him now. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that mirrored the restlessness within your own soul. His features, etched with lines of weariness and frustration, betrayed the weight of the burdens he carried.

You were distracted by the way he was looking at you. Brows furrowed, his lips turned and pulled into that permanent frown that had you wondering if he had ever smiled since he came back. Yet, despite the weight of his solemn expression, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glint of warmth, of familiarity, that almost stirred a faint glimmer of hope within you.

Almost.

"You're making a mistake." He insisted. "You need to choose someone else for your quest."

You tried not to seem too disappointed. "I can't pick anyone else." You protested, and he raised his brows at you, doubtful. "The Oracle told me to choose you."

"She told you to-?" A scoff escaped him, "The Oracle doesn't tell you who to choose. She doesn't say anything about who you should bring-"

"Luke-"

"The Oracle tells you what your quest is, then a weird riddle about something that will happen on your quest that will put you on edge the entire time."

Luke had stepped closer to you as he spoke as if his words would've sunk into your head clearer if you could hear them better. He spoke to you a lot that way, hoping you'd cling to every word he had to say; good and bad. Mostly bad.

The Oracle's cryptic words lingered in your mind. She had not revealed much about your quest, offering no subtle hints or insights into Eros' whereabouts to make your life easier. Instead, her assurance that success hinged on bringing Luke Castellan along had left you grappling with uncertainty. "He has all the answers you seek," she had urged, her words echoing with a weight that you struggled to comprehend.

"It has to be you."

"What else did she say?"

You hesitated. "That's it," you replied, your words falling short.

"That's it?" He didn't believe you.

"Just a few hints of where Eros might be, I guess." The lie slipped from your lips effortlessly.

He caught it quickly but never urged you to admit it. Luke remained silent, his expression unreadable as he mulled over your words.

You sort of wished he fought you over it.

You wished he'd do anything with you. At least try to.

"If you don't want to come with me, that's fine," you conceded, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, with or without you."

"Really? You'll just leave?"

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. Yet, despite the resentment that coloured his words, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glimmer of regret, perhaps, or maybe resignation. It only annoyed you further.

Luke Castellan was possibly the most confusing person you've ever met. He didn't want to join you on your quest, but you couldn't leave without him either? What's his fucking deal?

He intrigued and frustrated you, like some curse had been placed upon you, and you wanted to understand every part of him while he wanted nothing to do with you. Perhaps Aphrodite was being cruel when she chose him as your soulmate, but you weren't any better when you put him in the position of joining you on your quest.

"I don't know you." You admitted the words hanging heavy in the air between you. "You've made a really good effort to make sure that I don't know anything about you. I did my part. I picked you. If you don't want to come, that's... fine."

It pained you to say it. You did not want to go alone, but you weren't going to force someone to accompany you who clearly didn't want to be there. However, the uncertainty of what lay beyond the safety of the camp walls loomed large in your mind. You haven't left the protection of the camp in years, you weren't sure of what was out there other than the stories the summer campers would tell you, of their close calls and near misses.

Luke Castellan was the perfect example of what leaving camp does to someone.

Despite the weight of your decision, you held your head high as you turned on your heels. You doubted Luke had anything more to say; he was a man of few words, after all.

You left him there, just as he left you by the docks for months. And then you lied to yourself, clung to the belief that your mother, Aphrodite, would safeguard your journey and that your brother, Eros, awaited your rescue.

And so, the next morning, after bidding your tearful goodbyes to your siblings and friends and earning a proud pat on the back from Chiron, you swallowed your pride and left.

The Oracle's words were etched into the very fabric of your being, a relentless mantra that monopolized your thoughts as you trudged toward the top of the hill and left the safety of campgrounds. Each step forward was a testament to your determination, each footfall a declaration of your unwavering commitment to the quest ahead.

As you climbed, you couldn't help but imagine the faces of campers upon your return. You pictured the awe in their eyes, the pride in their voices, and most of all, the look on Luke's face when he realized the extent of your lone success, his disbelief mingling with a begrudging respect.

"Hey-"

The sound of your name startled you out of your thoughts. You were trudging through the grass when you spotted a body sitting under a pine tree, shaded from the sun by its leaves.

Luke looked up at you, frowning, "Took you long enough."

His dishevelled dark curls fell over his eyes, a stark contrast against the vibrant greenery surrounding him. With a resigned sigh, he rose to his feet, his movements fluid yet tinged with an air of impatience Luke picked up a bag by his side, tossing it over his shoulder. It wasn't until he emerged from the tree's shade that you noticed the subtle changes in his attire. Gone was the signature orange camp shirt, replaced instead by a more subdued navy tee that hugged his frame. His old cargo pants remained the same, but different nonetheless.

Eyeing his bag, you could spot smaller daggers strapped to the sides, prepared for anything. It took you a few seconds to process why he was there. You squint at the sun as he steps out from under the tree. "You came."

He huffed, "Obviously."

You let out a breathless chuckle, maybe one of relief since honestly, despite everything you'd been trying to convince yourself of, you were terrified to leave on your own.

"Why?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as you adjusted the straps of your own bag. The question hung in the air, unanswered. Of course. You almost rolled your eyes as Luke began to descend the other side of the hill. With a fleeting glance over his shoulder, he wordlessly beckoned you to join him by tilting his head to the side impatiently.

You grinned then, wide and bright. "I know I said I didn't care if you came or not, but I'm glad you're here."

He showed no sign of acknowledgment of your sentiment, his gaze fixed ahead as he continued to walk once you joined his side.

As the minutes stretched on in silence, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot, you found yourself lost in thought. It was only when the distant hum of passing cars reached your ears, their blurred forms darting through the forest's fringe, that you were jolted back to the present.

Drawing to a halt near the forest's edge, you felt the weight of uncertainty settle upon you. With a hesitant pause, you turned to face Luke, the question that had been gnawing at your mind poised on the tip of your tongue.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked.

"I just..." Your voice wavered, uncertainty lacing your words as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. You worried that if you said the wrong thing he'd leave you stranded right there and return to camp while the two of you were still walking distance from it. It annoyed you a little; how much you had to walk on eggshells with him.

You couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if you hadn't chosen him. You were being stupid when you picked him, you decided. You already regret it. Maybe Luke was right, the Oracle was just trying to get into your head.

"What made you change your mind? About coming on the quest?" you finally managed to voice, your eyes meeting his in search of answers.

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and simply stating: "If you break an arm, so do I."

That had been the closest Luke Castellan had ever been to admitting he had a soulmate.

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skzdarlings · 8 months ago

Text

vexatious vixen ; felix x reader ; part 2/2

masterlist.

PART 2/2. READ PART 1 HERE. ( READ ON AO3. )

You always get what you want. When an unassuming security guard named Felix stops your latest venture, you escalate the stakes until he has no choice but to put you in your place.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: romantic comedy. strangers to enemies to lovers. cat-and-mouse. dom/sub dynamics, dom!felix and sub!reader. brat tamer!felix and brat!reader. everything that transpires is fully consensual with implied conversations on kink preferences, and an established colour safeword system before the scene. that being said, they still get a lil kinky. please heed the following content warnings: fear kink/cnc, hiding, chasing, lots and lots of dirty talk, fingering, blow jobs, face fucking, throat fucking, a little bit of crying, penetrative sex. (protected but dirty talk like it's not.)

(chapter word count: 7750 words.)

enjoy! <3

The gentlest nip of a summer breeze moves through the settling blue darkness. Everything feels romantic. Everything except the handcuffs chaining you to Felix, Security Guard of the Year, Man of the People, and Defender of Propriety and Pop Star Penis.

Felix does not look at you as he drags you away from the stadium. He smiles sweetly at passersby, doing his best to hide the handcuffs no thanks to your flamboyant gesticulations, but it dissolves again to that grim, determined countenance.

Felix has an interesting face, so many sharp lines, but the overall effect is somehow delicate. A body of contradictions, slender but strong, a stark masculinity rippling beneath the glittery prettiness he happily indulges in. Blue hair should not look that good on anyone, but you doubt anything could make him look bad. He sparkles like the glitter star on his cheek.

You poke that cheek. A muscle in his jaw twitches. He looks at you sideways, all pretty brown eyes and a constellation of even prettier freckles.

“Do not,” he says.

“Do not what?”

“Just. Do not.”

You obey his demand for silence. For about six seconds.

“So how long have you been a security guard?” you ask amiably.

“You’re really trying to have a normal conversation with me,” he says. “Now? After that introduction?”

“I prefer the term meet-cute.”

“We wrestled on the ground then you handcuffed us together and threw away the key—”

“Adorable.”

“Right.” He picks up his speed. You could easily keep pace but you decide to stagger along like he is too fast for you, whining as he drags you behind him. Felix sighs but slows his pace. To your surprise, he answers your question. “A month,” he says. “I’ve been working there a month.”

“And you’re already gunning for CEO,” you say. “Considering how dedicated you are to bringing justice—”

He slams to a stop. Your chain jingles when you collide, hands smacking together. He faces you. Wisps of blue escape from his half-ponytail to dance across his face.

“I already told you,” he says. “My job is checking tickets. Chasing you down was my personal pleasure.”

“You’re a sick bastard,” you say.

He smiles. It is a gentle smile, seemingly sympathetic out of nowhere, his eyes softening with the lift of his brow. He has an uncanny ability to make softness more threatening than roughness. It gives you a shiver.

“Let me guess,” he says. “You don’t have a job, do you, sweetheart? You can’t hold one down. You don’t know how. Your parents have money and it’s nice, sure, but they were overbearing your whole childhood, weren’t they? Until one day they decided you were grown and just stopped caring. And now you’re out in the world with no more rules and you don’t know how to deal with it. Except by acting out. It’s fun, right? Looking for trouble. Makes you feel something for a minute. Because even though you have everyone fooled into thinking you’re this wild and carefree person, you’re locked up inside. You’re not scared of consequences because you’re already trapped. Oh, uhh, stop me if I’m getting cold, yeah?”

You just stare as he blithely runs his pretty mouth.

“You don’t really care about the prize, it’s just about the chase,” he continues. “You told me I was a good boy, yeah? Your words. And you think you’re bad. A bad, bad girl,” his deep voice drops even more, like the heavy-handed thud of a low blow, striking some place intimate inside you, “but that’s not really true, is it?”

He smiles that particular smile again, full of affection and tenderness, an expression that is completely alien to your brash and aggressive nature.

“Deep, deep down, you just want to be good,” he says. “But you need to earn it to enjoy it, don’t you? You need someone to tell you that you can, that it’s okay. But you don’t make it easy. And you’ve been running for so long, you probably can’t even remember how it feels when someone cares enough to catch you.”

You suddenly feel the weight of the handcuffs. You expected this dull pretty boy to have a hidden mean streak to rival your own, not for him to blast through your barriers and drag your innermost thoughts to the surface. To say nothing of his perfect speculation on your background.

“So what, you’re some kind of stalker with a philosophy major?” you ask.

He is still smiling.

He laughs, a low chuckle. He looks like a star, glittering silver and blue in the moonlight.

“No, I’m not,” he says. “I’m just the same as you. Vexatious, apparently, because I’m all smiles all the time. Just so good, you know?” He is almost theatrical in tone. “Of course, that’s technically the opposite of you. Isn’t it?”

When you don’t answer, he touches your chin, just his fingertips. It is still enough to guide your face to his, locking eyes.

“I said, isn’t it?” he asks, his tone sharper.

If he is insinuating that you are only pretending to be bad, then that means he is only pretending to be good. If you are secretly good, then he is secretly—

His mouth hovers close to yours. He abruptly steps back.

Oh. You blink quickly. Yes. Of course. It is always the real bad boys who take care to be good, isn’t it? He does not need to flaunt it. He can just smile at you.

“Come on,” he says, interlocking your fingers with his. He tugs you along, humming to himself as he leads you down the street. So seemingly innocent. Grinning to himself like the cheshire cat.

You stare at those freckles, the glitter stars, his dimples.

A vexatious vixen, indeed.

“So that Jisung guy,” you say. “The one who gave you these handcuffs. He thinks you’re a nice guy who needs some adventure in his life. It was just a prank gift and he thought he was being funny.”

“Yup,” Felix says, popping the sound.

“Little does he know you’re actually some sick and twisted pervert,” you say.

“Tsk,” he says, looking at you with a cheeky grin, as if to say what a silly girl you are. “I’m not sick. See, unlike you who bothers everyone whether they like or not, I only chase the ones who like to run. Twisted, on the other hand… well…”

The handcuffs jingle, strung around your joined hands like the red string of fate. You look at each other, starlight on your faces, a noisy arena behind you and a game ahead of you.

You smile back at him.

You still intend to win.

It is a twenty minute walk. Your conversation weaves around implications, some very forthright flirtations, and a couple scandalizing explanations. Despite his previous goading, Felix is far more reserved in his desires. He blinks when you describe a very dirty scenario and get detailed. Very, very detailed.

“Um, right,” he says. “Fun as that sounds, I’m pretty sure that constitutes as a human rights violation.”

“So?”

“I, uhh, prefer to do things that don’t get me put on an Interpol watch list.”

“Coward.”

You nonetheless accept this and describe a totally different scenario. He looks a little wan.

“Where would I get a rocket launcher?” he asks when you are finished.

“I dunno, get creative. My friend Seungmin once—oh shit, my friends!”

“Wait, huh? Your friend Seungmin has a rocket launcher…?”

You take out your phone to find a gathering collection of texts from Seungmin and Minho, ranging from teasing you about losing your touch to asking if you got arrested and they need to bail you out. Your friends are a nightmare which is why you like them, but they always get you out of trouble in the end.

You confirm you are safe, that you already left, and that you are trying to have sex with a hot, insane, kinky sadist of a security guard.

“You know I can read everything you are typing right now,” Felix says. “I am standing right beside you. You’re typing with a hand literally attached to mine.”

“Well, mind your own business.” You do not bother hiding your texts.

“You are giving them my name and address,” Felix replies. “It sounds like my business.”

“Well, it’s not. We’ve already established the world revolves around me. You’re the supporting character, pal.”

“Right,” he says. He blinks at the screen. In a more serious voice, he asks, “Do you want the postal code too?”

It never hurts to be thorough. You type the address and send it to the boys.

Good thing you waxed, Seungmin writes.

Felix squints at the screen and tilts his head like a curious cat. “You waxed for a concert?” he asks, giving you a once-over. “What did you think was gonna—”

“I am prepared for every eventuality,” you interrupt. “It’s why I always win.”

He holds up your handcuffed wrists and cocks an eyebrow. “Is this what you call winning?” he asks.

You smirk, your whole expression bright despite the suggestive wiggling of your eyebrows. “Matter of opinion, I suppose,” you say. “And my opinion is the only one that matters.”

“Right,” he says, forcing a frown. Despite his efforts, a smile is tugging at his lips. He suffices to roll his eyes and march ahead, yanking you along behind him. “Come on,” he says. “We’re almost there.”

Once your friends have your information, you put your phone in your little purse. You turn the corner and find yourself looking at an absolutely gorgeous house. Your jaw drops as Felix leads you up the driveway. It is an ostentatious design to say the least. You pass a gate mounted with two lion statues.

“Not my style,” he says when you gawk at the stone kitties. “This place belongs to my parents. They usually rent it out but they let me live here while I go to school.”

“So you weren’t kidding,” you say, a funny sensation in your chest and stomach. “About your background, I mean. You and me really are alike.”

You realize the sensation in your chest is an inkling of feelings. Genuine, heart-felt, soul-stirring feelings. You look at Felix and see a lot of yourself, though he is like a mirror version, exactly the same and completely the opposite. It makes you huff, holding a hand to your stomach like you can control the butterflies there.

“What’s wrong?” Felix asks, pausing at the front door.

“When was the last time you had a feeling?” you ask.

“A… feeling?” he asks. He stands silent for a long moment. When he realizes you are not going to elaborate, he asks, “What kind of feeling?”

“Just a feeling,” you say. “You know.”

“Uhh.” He blinks quickly. “I have feelings all the time. Every day.”

“Wow,” you say. “That sounds exhausting. Explains a lot about you.”

“All right.” He shakes his head. He reaches into his back pocket and fishes out a set of house keys, twirling them around his fingers until he finds the right one.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I threw those keys too?” you ask.

He gives you an exasperated look. You grin.

With a shake of his head, he sighs and unlocks the door. The foyer lights flicker to life and the house alarm starts ringing. It gives you a punch of adrenaline which has the predictable effect of getting your blood pumping. Your body does not know the difference between fear and desire. You have only been here two seconds but you are already licking your lips.

Felix is none-the-wiser. He flips open the alarm panel and punches in a code. It beeps and goes quiet. You look at each other in the soft golden glow of the foyer lamplight. He still looks stupidly pretty, blue hair and glitter, sleeveless shirt and jeans. Unassuming, gentle, sweet. Not at all like he could throw you over his shoulder or manhandle you in the grass. But he can. He did.

“Come on,” he says, tugging on the chain between you.

You feign disinterest but your eyes scour his space. You pass through the kitchen where there is an array of baking utensils drying in the dishes rack. The entire kitchen is clearly maintained with great care. The rest of the space is a little chaotic, shelves and desks and units overflowing with technological equipment that you can neither recognize nor name.

“I build computers,” he says, catching you staring at the pile of miscellaneous parts. “Sorry for the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”

This is uttered dryly and you wave it away. You do not want to admit you find it somewhat endearing. Your hobbies primarily consist of keeping the local PD on their toes, but you appreciate the practice of a craft. It only adds another layer to this weird dude, pretty but athletic but intelligent but ridiculous but charming but geeky. And just as competitive and crazy and freaky as you.

“Bedroom’s this way,” he says. “And, uh, don’t get any ideas.”

“Too late,” you answer, though truthfully your filthier fantasies are fracturing in wake of the reality of him. The computers, the baking tools, the wall of games and consoles, collectible toys and ughhh why did he have to be kind of adorable and secretly have a personality. Mutual objectification is more your style. Not quivering under a gentle touch and feeling… feelings.

“You look like you are thinking way too hard,” Felix says, pausing at his bedroom door. “It’s freaky.”

“Not thinking anything,” you say, because you are too busy feeling to be thinking. Ugh. You shake it off and push open his bedroom door.

He shakes his head and leads you in. He has a pretty elaborate gaming setup, the rest of the room plain in comparison. His bed is neatly made and you cannot help but envision a mess of sheets. Yes. That is more your thing. Taking that sweet and gentle façade and corrupting it, right down to the core. You want him to lose control. You want to drive him crazy. You want to draw this out, use the handcuffs and—

“Aha,” he says. “Right here.”

He pulls open a bedside drawer. A pair of handcuffs is sitting inside it, the key right on top. He takes it out and immediately unlocks you.

The cuffs fall to the floor. He scoops them up and jingles them in your face.

You stare at them then slowly meet his gaze.

“Oh,” you say. “You evil son of a bitch.”

He looks at you with a soft little pout, like he cannot imagine why you would be upset and you are hurting his oh-so sensitive feelings. But he knew you wanted to play him. He knew you wanted the handcuffs a little longer. Now there is no reason to linger. Now you can just walk out the door and never see him again.

He is going to make you ask for it.

That is not your style. You hate being out-smarted. And you really, really, really hate losing.

“Right,” you say. “I guess that’s it then.”

“Guess so,” he says. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

You are still standing in his bedroom. It is dark but there is an elaborate lighting rig around his computer, all bright blue neon and blinking lights. You are swimming in blue, breathing it in. His hair, the room, and moonlight.

You will never see this colour the same way again. Of that much you are certain.

“Blue,” you say.

His brow crinkles. “Blue?” he repeats.

“Mm.” You look around the room, pretending you are unbothered by the intensity of his gaze. “Red. Yellow. Green. Colours can say a lot, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” he says, exhaled on a breath. The neon light catches the little star on his cheek, glinting at you. He is dazzling. This moment is larger than life.

You take a step back, holding his gaze.

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go…” you drawl, backing out of his room. “It’s amazing what you can say with just a colour…”

“Uh-huh,” he says. He looks at you like he did at the arena, maybe even more intensely. Now he knows what you are capable of doing. Now you understand each other.

He follows you, assessing every step you take. There is a subtle flex to the lean muscles of his arms, reminding you that while he is beautiful, he is also capable of more.

“And what does blue mean?” he asks. “To you?”

You walk backwards, an unspoken understanding that once you turn your back, the game begins. So you hold his gaze, smirking, inviting. The foyer lights flash on and gold light fills the space between you, casting shadows across your smiling faces.

He walks like a predatory cat, slow and smooth. His confidence is easy. He needs no grand display of machoism. He just smiles that pretty pink mouth. The glitter on his cheek sparkles.

“Blue is the colour we show on the outside,” you say, “when deep down we really want something else.”

“I see,” he says. Abruptly, his intensity vanishes when he laughs and says, “Put it back.”

Somehow, despite diverting his attention, he still saw your slight-of-hand. You swiped the closest object, a little jewel-encrusted clock on the nearby table. You waited until your body obscured the view but he still saw.

He can read you that easily, predict your moves that well. Because it is not as though he loves the clock. It stands out from his things, clearly one of the ostentatious designs, courtesy of his parents. You can read him that easily too. He does not like gaudy, shiny little knick-knacks. He likes neon and blue and you.

“Put what back?” you ask. You have reached the front door. Your hands are behind your back, the bauble in one, the other twisting the doorknob.

“I’m not gonna ask twice,” he says.

You push the door open.

“I’ll give it back, if that’s what you really want,” you say. With a suggestive little smirk, you ask, “So what’s your colour?”

Red to stop. Yellow to pause. Green to give in.

“Blue,” he says. To play.

You smile. You hold up the bauble, wink, then zip it into your purse.

“In that case,” you say, “you’ll have to catch me first.”

His expression changes in an instant, that playful giggling gone as quickly as it came. He breathes and it fills him, makes him look sturdy, makes him look ready.

“Sweetheart,” he says. “Don’t make me do this.”

The softness of the pet name is completely undone by the dark tone of his voice. There is nothing soft about him. He is ice cold blue and burning red heat at once, searing you with his eyes, the way they rove your whole body. You feel each glance. A shiver races down your spine. Instinctively, your body braces itself, fearful of that voice and that gaze.

It also gets you so, so hot.

All that tension snaps.

You turn and run, bolting down the driveway and past the fancy gate. You are quick on your feet, practiced and lithe. You show him no mercy this time. Earlier you were unprepared, severely misjudging his capabilities, but you will not make the same mistake again.

You glance over your shoulder. He is no where to be seen so you slow your pace, bemused.

A minute later, he comes tearing around the corner and your heart starts pumping again. Just like back at the arena, he grins as he thunders after you.

An instinctive little yelp leaves your mouth. You resume your pace, booking it for the corner of the block. There is a little patch of green park so you run there, disappearing between the bushes.

It seemed like a good idea but the streetlight barely breaks the thick tree branches. It is darker and eerier here, genuine fright overcoming you. You come to a clumsy stop, fumbling with your purse to grab your phone. A flashlight will stop you tripping, but it will also lead Felix right to you.

You hear him behind you, clambering through the bushes. Your heart leaps. The darkness makes you forget this is all pretend. You run without a light, dashing down the narrow path and squinting for even a glimpse of street light. You need to get out of the bushes otherwise you risk falling on your face, then he will be right on top of you in seconds. But running on the road will expose you too quickly.

You will not surrender that easily. He knows that.

Torn between the garden and the road, you get a brilliant idea. You dash back onto the street and hope it takes him a minute to follow. He is not behind you so you race back to his house.

There is no way he will circle back here. He knows you want a chase, so a chase is what he anticipates. He would never guess you ran back into his house. Oh, you can’t wait for the look on his face when he finds you perched on his bed, feigning boredom as you wait.

You run back up the driveway. The front door is closed and you crash right into it, assuming it would be unlocked. Nope. He locked it. Maybe that is why he was delayed.

You spin around, halfway expecting to find him there, ready to push you up against his door and cage you in. But no, you are still winning. He is undoubtedly still running through those bushes. He will circle the whole block before heading back here.

You hurry down the side of the house, looking for any open windows. You do not think he had time to set the alarm. Did he? Maybe that is why he was so far behind.

The side gate is unlocked so you slip into the backyard. You come to a surprised stop because it is a beautiful landscape. The greenery is pristine and there are little couches and chairs scattered around. There is a shed, some storage trunks, a fire pit. In the middle of everything is a pool, sparkling blue in the golden lamplight. Of course.

You do not rush. You cross the yard in a slow walk, taking a moment to catch your breath. You strategize your next move. Should you pose on one of the pool chairs? Wait by his back door and knock when he gets home?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a low hum. Someone is making their way down the side of the house.

You panic. You are often caught scampering around places you are not supposed to be, so instinct propels you to hide. You run to one of the storage trunks and duck behind it.

No sooner have you hidden does Felix stroll into the backyard. He is a little dishevelled, a few strands of hair escaping from his half-ponytail, but he seems mostly unbothered. He moves at a leisurely pace, humming to himself as he swings the gate open.

He pauses there, leaning against the tall fence. You are quite certain the world has never been this quiet.

“I know you’re here,” Felix says, his deep voice shattering the silence.

Your heart leaps into your throat. You should have known better. Of course he had the same idea as you. Now what? How can you outsmart someone who can predict your every move?

You peek around the storage trunk. Felix is smiling, all dimples and delight. Even his eyes are glittering as he swings the gate shut. He looks across the yard as he curls his fist around the padlock. He slams it shut, effectively locking you in with him.

So that is why he took so long. He unlocked the gate before giving chase. He laid a trap and you ran right into it.

His walk is more of a prowl, a slow but steady tread across the grass.

“Come out, come out,” he sing-songs, uncannily chipper.

You cannot believe you are about to be beaten so quickly. It has your head spinning, your heart racing from your run, your adrenaline pounding as he approaches.

Your heart tempers itself when he stops. He pokes his head around the fire pit to see if you are hiding there.

“Sweetheart,” he says, casting his gaze around the yard. “You don’t need to hide. I promise I’m not mad.” He strolls around the pool, looking from here to there, even up at the trees. He hums thoughtfully to himself. “Now, now… If I was a troublemaker who needed to learn a lesson, where would I hide…” He ducks behind a pool chair, frowning. “Hmm, hmm, hmm…”

He stands for a minute, tapping his chin. You want to glean some semblance of your surroundings, but you do not want to take your eyes off him. You are convinced if you do, he will manifest right beside you. So you look at the house then at him, the gate then at him, the trees then at him. You almost want to scream. He is not even moving and he has you completely captivated, every last sense in your body attuned to him.

“Pleeeeease,” he says in a long drawl, a cute little tone. He ambles over to a different storage trunk and lifts the lid. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

He slams the lid down so hard it makes the unit wobble. Even though you are far away, it makes you jump. You have to cover your mouth to stop a yelp from escaping.

You stare as he leans over the other unit, peering behind it. He huffs in frustration when he finds nothing. Despite the angry grimace, when he stands upright, he is wearing that saccharine smile.

“You’re hurting my feelings, sweetheart,” he says. “I thought we were turning into friends. Don’t you want to be my friend?”

He flings a chair out of his way, then swiftly drops to his knees to peer under the picnic table. He is getting closer, bit by bit, which is somehow more terrifying than if he beelined right at you.

He is giving you time, you realize. He wants you worked up. He wants your heart racing. He wants you quivering and soft and afraid.

You look around frantically, searching for an escape.

Your hope rises then plummets. The back door is ajar but that is an obvious trap. It leads into the house but there is no way you are crossing the yard without him seeing you.

You jump at another slam. It was the shed door. He is stepping inside it, rifling through the yard tools in case you are crouched inside.

“Come on,” he says into the shed. “Don’t be scared.”

You take a deep breath. You have only seconds to cross the yard while his back is turned. You do not waste another moment, jumping to your feet and running as quietly and as quickly as you can.

He is just as quiet. You shriek at the sudden arm that catches you, just like it did at the arena. Felix tackles you onto the grass again, pushing you down on your back and covering your mouth.

You wrestle him, just like last time, ignoring his laughter as you claw and bite at him.

“You’re a little mean, you know that?” he says, waving his hand after narrowing dodging your teeth. He dives back in, undeterred, grabbing your face in one hand. “Yeah, that’s it,” he says. “Fight me. Brat.”

You do not surrender easily, but he manhandles you with the same effortless skill as before. There is no doubt he has training that you lack, flipping you in his arm then pushing you down on your front. You kick your legs as he straddles your backside. He brings your hands together on the base of your spine.

You know what is coming and it makes you shriek with frustration. Just like last time, he slaps the handcuffs on your wrists and locks your hands behind your back.

“You stupid little—” you start, your words stifled when he puts his hand over your mouth and yanks your head up. He holds the handcuff key in front of your face, then makes a show of throwing it. You are pretty sure it is still in his fist, but the very idea has you whimpering into his palm.

“That’s better,” he says, slowly taking his hand off your mouth. It hovers like he expects you to start screaming. You just exhale heavily, glaring. “All right,” he says. “Very good. Come on.”

You play at obedience long enough to get off the ground. He helps you stand, then you immediately kick at him. He tries to grab your leg but you dodge the swipe of his hand, running the opposite way.

Your balance is thrown, dizzy from the takedown and the handcuffs. He catches you quickly. You yelp when he sweeps you off your feet, boasting all that hidden strength again.

He carries you over to the deck where he drops down, sitting with his legs spread to fit you in between. With your back to his front, he pulls you against him, an arm across your chest to keep you pinned together.

“Oh fuck you,” you say, wriggling helplessly.

“Not quite,” he says, laughing. “I’ve been picturing something else.”

He covers your mouth again, catching your shriek when he tugs your shirt open. The flannel falls down your shoulders and he yanks the tank top down, getting a handful of everything you inadvertently flashed him earlier.

Despite the force of his initial touch, he is not rough. You might have kept your cool if he was; you are used to rough, fast, hard. But his hand is tender, almost loving, a slow touch that trails from your neck down your chest, thumb circling the peak of your nipple before he squeezes your curves in the cup of his hand. It is maddeningly slow and careful, your whining trapped in the palm of his hand.

“This is what I was picturing,” he says. It sounds like a growl, his deep tone just above a rough whisper. His lips graze your ear and you shiver.

You gasp, taking in deep gulps of air when he frees your mouth. A weak whimper is all you manage when he hooks his legs around yours and pries them apart. His hand dives down to your shorts, making swift work of the buttons.

“Yup, just what I thought,” he says as his fingers sink inside you. “Do you feel that?” he asks, as if your attention could be on anything but the thorough, rolling touch of his fingers, torturing the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. He slides his fingers into you with no resistance whatsoever. He starts finger-fucking you, laughing when you moan, when you rear up under his hand for more. “Mmm, yeah, you want it don’t you?” You try to resist but it is hard, especially when he teases you, making you chase him with your hips. He just laughs again, slowing his touch maddeningly. “God, that’s hot,” he says. “You might be a brat but your pussy... It’s begging for it, isn’t it? Does it like this, sweetheart, hmm? Hmm?”

He is absolutely torturing you, rubbing those swollen nerves to the crest of an orgasm then withdrawing, again and again, until you swear it burns. You make a strangled sound, clutching his hand on your chest, still cupped possessively on your naked breast.

“Tell me,” he says. “Tell me how much you want me to make you come.”

“Mmmph,” is your oh-so intelligent reply.

“You can do better than that,” he says. “Come on. Show me how much you want it. You can’t lie to me, sweetheart. I can feel it, hmm? Gonna feel it when you come. Gonna feel your pussy get nice and tight around my fingers, asking for it, baby—oh yeah, what’s that? What’s it want?”

“Ugh, fuck you,” you whine.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart,” he says. “Fuck you. You can run that pretty mouth but I know what you really need. You’re gonna be begging me for my cock, to fill you up and make you feel all full for real. Isn’t that right? Go on. Show me you want it. Show me.”

Your chest is heaving. Your eyes close. You concentrate on that orgasm, chasing it desperately. It approaches rapidly and your thighs start shaking.

He covers your mouth again, once more predicting you. He knows you are about to come. This time he takes you right over, groaning in your ear, clutching you tight while never once slowing the deft thrust of his hand. You scream into his palm, the intensity of the orgasm washing over you. The blue light of the pool flickers even with your eyes closed, seeing nothing but blue, blue, blue. He surrounds you, his voice, his moans, his touch.

Your hips buck, your heart skipping a frantic beat when pleasure turns to sensitivity. He chuckles but stops, dropping his hand off your mouth. You catch your breath, slumping against his chest.

He touches your face with the hand he just used to fuck you, wet fingers streaking across your mouth as he turns your head. You blink at him and part your lips just for him to shove his fingers in your mouth. You cannot help but moan, eyes closing as you suck the tangy wetness right off his fingers. You watch when he takes them back, when he licks them for himself. Strands of blue fall across his forehead. He looks as flushed and filthy as you feel.

He grins around his fingers. Then he grabs the back of your neck and pulls your face to his. He kisses you for the first time with the taste of your pussy on both your mouths. His kiss is deep and bold, as if you are already his. You are dizzy when he stops, gasping when he pecks your lips with sweet, chaste little kisses.

“Gonna uncuff you now,” he says softly. “Because for what we do next…” He grabs you by the throat and you mewl, clenching around nothing when he rolls his hips under you, showing you how hard he is. “Yeah, sweetheart. For that, I need all of you.”

You sit quietly while he uncuffs you. You feign complacency, standing on shaky legs when he guides you upright. You fix your shirt, glaring at him, though it is a little harder while you are still catching your breath.

He was right about one thing; you need him like you have never needed anyone. You are throbbing, completely and totally aching with the loss of his touch. You have never felt such clear pulsations, your body begging for more even while your expression is petulant.

You follow him to the open door. One step, two steps.

Then you say, “Blue.”

You take off running into the house.

He laughs incredulously, not even making an attempt to grab you.

He slams the door shut behind him. You skid to a stop in the hall, listening to the gentle beeping of the alarm as he arms it from the inside. It is the same quiet threat as the padlock; there is no escape.

Giddy, excited, practically vibrating with anticipation, you run and hide. There are boxes and tables piled high with gadgetry, not to mention his couch and bookshelves and general appliances. Plenty more places to hide than that big back yard. And when he finally does find you, when you have worked him up the way he worked you up—

That is what winning is all about.

You sit in your hiding place, breathing hard.

“Sweetheart,” Felix says in that too-sweet voice. His footsteps are slow, unhurried, casual. “Stop hiding. I said I didn’t want to hurt you, but if you keep this up…”

You peer at him between some boxes. He stops in the middle of the room, catching his breath too. The glittering amusement has left his eyes. They are narrowed, his flushed cheeks and sweaty hairline only exacerbating his predatory air.

He unties his half-ponytail, then bends over to run his fingers through the length of it. He flips back up, all that blue falling prettily in place. He licks his lips as he prowls through the room, looking behind boxes, ducking under tables.

You shuffle with him, moving when he does. He checks your previous hiding space with a jaunty, “A-ha!” then curses.

“Come on now,” he says, turning around. He smiles like a shark, all teeth, hungry despite the innocent flash of a dimple. “You’re only hurting yourself,” he says. “I know you, sweetheart. You’re in here somewhere, and you can’t tell me you’re not thinking about what it’s gonna feel like when I catch you, yeah? Hmm. You’re fast. I bet you’re flexible too. I bet I can get you into all sorts of positions. Get you making all sorts of noises for me…”

It is a struggle to be quiet as you move. Your limbs are still shaky. Every word out of his mouth makes your breath catch.

You swallow hard, freezing when he pauses. Did he hear that? Maybe not. He turns the other way, heaving a deep sigh before he laughs. It lacks amusement, a harsh sound as he turns and turns.

“Come out, come out,” he sing-songs. In a harder voice, he snaps, “Stop hiding from me.” Then he smiles again. He turns in your direction slowly. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

You cover your mouth, cowering down when he seems to look right at you. Your heart is pounding so hard, you would not be surprised if he could hear it, even feel it, shaking this whole damn house.

“If you come out on your own,” he says, “I promise to make you feel good. You’ll come so hard, you’ll forget how scared you are.”

You keep that hand over your mouth, fighting to keep quiet. It stifles a shriek when he suddenly waves at you, a drole little finger-wiggle.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he says. He crouches down, putting himself at eye-level, peering between the boxes that shield you. “Don’t make me come get you,” he says. “I’ve been nice, haven’t I? Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

You shuffle to the side. He slaps a hand over his face, shaking his head while he laughs.

“Right,” he says. “Fine. We’ll do it that way.”

You bolt when he does, shrieking as you clamber around some equipment to get away. You manage to escape to the foyer, cursing when the automatic lights flash on. It feels like a spotlight, illuminating you in the middle of that big empty space with no where to hide.

You can hear Felix stomping after you. You scurry into the kitchen, looking around frantically for somewhere to hide.

You yelp when he bursts in behind you. This time, he does not give. He grabs you roughly when you try to run again. With very little effort, like you are scarcely more than a mild inconvenience, he lifts you off your feet and slings you over his shoulder. He says nothing while you curse and squirm and slap his back.

“You know what I wonder?” he eventually says, marching you right into the bedroom. “I wonder… if I make you cry, is that gonna make you tighter, you think?” He slides you down his body, holding you flush against him. He smiles. “Worth a shot, no?”

And then he handcuffs your wrist to his wrist and tosses the key across the room.

“Oops,” he says.

He grabs your throat and you gasp, spilling onto the bed when he pushes you. He puts your on your back then straddles your chest, swiftly unbuttoning his jeans.

“Open up,” he says, practically prying your mouth open, just giggling when you bite at him. “If you bite me,” he says, two fingers shoved deep in your mouth, “I promise, I’ll give you something to be fucking scared of.”

You were right. You will never see the colour blue the same way again. You will never be able to settle for anything less than Felix again.

With a whimpery sigh, you relent, blissful as your mouth falls open. He shoves his clothes out of his way, just enough. He is rock hard and wet at the tip when he guides your mouth around his dick. He cradles your head gently, even if the rest of him is not gentle.

You moan, your pussy literally twitching for attention as he shoves into your throat and makes your eyes water. You take him well and he groans, pulsing in your mouth when tears start running down your face. He fucks your mouth and throat, a back and forth that has your seeing stars. Eventually he pulls back, laughing as runs his fingers through his hair.

“Oh, baby,” he says. He reaches down to wipe a tear. “I wanted to do that the second you started mouthing off to me.”

“Asshole,” you say, though it comes out with a giggle.

He laughs, sliding down your body to get between your legs. He gets your shorts and underwear out of his way, kissing across your pussy and up your stomach. He lifts your shirt and crosses your breasts with his mouth, leaving little bite marks in his wake.

With the hand cuffed to yours, he interlocks your fingers sweetly, pressing it into the mattress. Then he swoops up. He kisses you, his tongue a soothing touch after everything.

You moan, literally shaking with need as he smiles against your lips. He speaks in that low, rasping voice when he says, “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you realize you’re gonna come all over my cock.”

“Oh god,” is your rough reply.

“It’s Felix,” he says. “You’re gonna be screaming it in a second, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

He has a condom in his bedside drawer. Though you see him put it on, he still leans down to dirty talk, holding your throat as he whispers, “Was gonna be nice and wrap it, but you don’t like it nice, do you?” He spreads your legs with his own, pushing down with his hips. You whimper when the head of his cock glides over where you are very wet and very needy. “No, sweetheart,” he says. “I’m gonna have all of you. And you – are gonna – take it.”

He punctuates this with short thrusts, gradually easing inside you. You moan, canting your hips to meet him, needing more. When he starts fucking you in earnest, your whole body gets pliant like it never has before. You let him hold you, tethered to him by the handcuffs and something else, something to do with those feelings inside you. You let them melt into the physical sensations. When he touches you, working you into an orgasm while he is deep inside you, it all washes over you. You come with a cry, screaming his name just like he said.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he says. Your bodies are flush together, chests touching, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His face is in your neck when he laughs. It is not a fake laugh, not coloured darkly, but ringing with true amusement. “What’s your name?” he asks.

You laugh too, whispering it against his mouth when he leans in to kiss you. He groans, kissing you, and says your name against your lips when he comes. It binds you to him more effectively than the handcuffs.

You lay there for some time afterward, all that pent-up adrenaline taking its time to dwindle. He lays on your chest, your free hand in his hair, stroking it. Eventually he looks at you with wide eyes.

“I’m not, you know, like that, I mean—” he says.

“I know,” you reply, massaging the nape of his neck. You get uncharacteristically bashful. Usually your partners, being more dominant, are the ones offering consolation to you, and you seldom need much. Felix, you can tell, needs something, and it draws something out of you that you hardly knew existed. Something tender and soft, that enjoys touching him and soothing him and making him smile.

“Do you still have that, uh, feeling?” he later asks.

You nod. He smiles.

“Me too,” he says.

“That’s nice. Can we get the handcuff key now?” you ask, making him laugh.

The handcuffs end up on the floor with your clothes.

This is usually the part where you run away, but you think you are done with running for a while. You lay down with Felix, side by side, washed in the neon blue light. You take a breath and roll onto his chest, resting your head there, and he runs a hand down your back in a soft caress.

“I’m just glad I didn’t wax for no reason,” you break the silence, making him snort. He slaps a hand over his face, shaking his head. “What! Don’t look at me like that or I’ll try and sneak into another concert when you’re on the clock.”

“Mm, will you?” he asks, grinning. “I better be prepared.”

“Oh no, I’m not messing with you. I’m picking an easier target next time.”

“I’ll find you anyway,” he says. “Can’t hide from me, sweetheart.”

“Hmm,” you say, hiding your face because that squishy feeling in your chest is back. “I still won this round.”

He lifts your face so he can look at you. Your eyes close when he swoops in and kisses you. You can’t even pretend to be annoyed with him anymore. Vexatious vixen, indeed.

“I think,” he says, “we might have tied this round, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” you say. You kiss again, long and sweet. Then you bop him on the nose. “But next time it’ll be me.”

He sighs but smiles, shaking his head. Then he cups your face and pulls you in for another kiss.

#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix smut #felix smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix x you #skz x you #stray kids x you

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unsolved-duvall · 2 years ago

Text

𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

eddie munson x fem!reader

7.9k words (i'm so sorry)

summary you and eddie have been friends for years, and you've both been in love with each other for as long as you can remember. neither of you realise it though, until one night, where that might finally change.

fluff, smut, idiots in love. friends to lovers <3

warnings talks of insecurities, mentions of anxiety, mentions of a bad relationship with parents. reader struggles with her emotions a lot (i don't know if that needs a warning but just in case!). some smut at the end, so 18+! minors i will chase you away with a stick if i have to.

“You look perfect, I promise” Eddie leant against the doorway to his bedroom, watching as you desperately adjusted your skirt and fishnet tights in front of his mirror. The outfit you were wearing wasn’t much different to your usual attire, but you had never been to a concert before, and you wanted to look the part - Eddie had assured you it didn’t matter what you wore, that no one there would judge you or even be looking at you, too busy watching the band perform. But it wasn’t everyone else you were worried about. It was Eddie. And you so desperately wanted Eddie to look at you.

If someone was to ask you when you fell in love with Eddie you weren’t sure you could give them an answer. The truth was you didn’t remember when it happened, all you knew was that you fell hard and fast. Even before you two had spoken one word to each other, you were sure you were already completely enamoured by him. You would catch yourself staring at him at school, entranced by everything he did. Constantly holding doors open for girls walking behind him, or stopping mid-theatrics in the middle of the cafeteria to let that group of girls walk past him, throwing his arms behind his back. Gestures so subtle that no one else noticed, or if they did they simply ignored them.

You had learnt that teenagers found it much easier to view people one-dimensionally, and the minute someone doesn’t act the way they’re expected to, people become uncomfortable. Eddie was seen as an outcast and freak from day one; he was never going to change that. So, it was easier for him to lean into the role, fitting into the mould that everyone else had made for him. Your point was, you always admired how kind and considerate Eddie was to the people around him, even though they never showed him the same respect back.

When you and Eddie finally started talking and became friends, you realised that he was possibly the sweetest person you had ever met, and your feelings became all-consuming. Also, it didn’t help that Eddie was annoyingly good-looking. Like bang-your-head-against-the-wall-pretty. Eddie had a way of making you go dumb when he looked at you. His big doe eyes were like a weapon he didn’t even realise he possessed, you were sure he held the whole universe in them. And, when you sat close enough to him, you could see the freckles that painted his face like constellations in the night sky, across his nose and cheeks. Seeing Eddie smile was your favourite thing in the entire world, especially those smiles that reached his eyes and lit up his whole face. If his face was the only one you could look at for the rest of your life, you would be perfectly content with that.

Eddie’s voice broke through the thoughts swirling around in your head about how you looked, starting to overwhelm you. You lifted your head and looked up into the mirror, meeting Eddie’s eyes. “There she is, you zoned out on me there for a sec” A small smile graced his face as he pushed himself off the doorframe and walked to stand in front of you, stopping you from being able to stare at yourself in the mirror anymore, he could tell you were starting to feel anxious, his eyes dropping to watch your fingers tangle together, nails scratching at the back of your hands.

Eddie hated that you were so self-conscious, he wished he could take away all your anxieties and worries. Listen, Eddie wasn’t a violent guy, and he would be the first to admit that - he had only gotten into two physical fights in his life, both of them when he was much younger, just after his dad was sent to prison; both of the fights were caused by someone telling Eddie he was gonna grow up to be ‘“just like his dad” and before he even realised what he was doing he was throwing punches. Both times Wayne had comforted Eddie afterwards, sitting with him for hours just listening to him shout and scream and cry. Wayne knew he was just a small kid with a lot of big emotions, that he had no idea how to handle. “It’s okay kid, it’ll be okay.” Wayne tried his best to comfort him, but also be a father figure to him, sometimes he worried he was being too soft, and other times he worried he was being too harsh. But Eddie wouldn’t be the man he was today without his Uncle, so he obviously did something right.

With all that being said, Eddie was certain that if your feelings were a person? Without a shadow of a doubt, he would beat them to a pulp for making you feel so awful all the time.

Eddie delicately held both your hands, stopping them from fighting with each other, he didn’t miss the heat that rushed to your cheeks at the small action. “Listen” He murmured quietly, although in the quiet of his room he still sounded loud “there’s no rush, s’just we really are going to be late if we don’t leave now” He didn’t actually care about being late, he just wanted to stop you getting more worried than you already were.

“Oh shit, m’sorry. Yeah, okay I’m ready, let’s go” Eddie gave your hands a tight squeeze and then let them go, you silently cursed yourself for wishing that he had kept holding them. “S’okay, do you need a jacket or anything?” Eddie asked as he lead you out of his room. “No Eds I don’t need a jacket, we’ll be inside the whole night” You responded trying to sound as normal as possible, but all you could think about was his hand on the lower dip of your back as he followed you to the front door. “You are cold literally all of the time! I’ve seen you wear coats in June and it’s mid-Winter right now, forgive me for assuming you would be cold tonight!” Eddie laughed as he said it. “I’ll be fine Munson.”

“Okay fine I’ll take your word for it. But I swear I’m not giving you my jacket if you realise I’m right and start freezing your ass off.”

You laughed and turned your head to look at him, that signature smirk on his face. “You got it.” You both knew he was going to give you his jacket anyway.

Eddie jumped into the van, getting ready to drive. Within about ten seconds his face dropped completely. “What’s wrong?” you asked curiously.

“Uh, so you know how sometimes I get distracted and then I forget to do things that were really important?” Eddie avoided looking at you as he spoke, you already had an idea of where this was going. “Yeah that’s kind of your thing” you giggled. “Heh yeah so uh it shouldn't really surprise you if I told you I kinda forgot to fill the van up?” Eddie asked innocently, it really was impossible to be mad at him when he looked like that. “Wait we don’t have any gas?” You asked him.

“Shit Y/N I’m so sorry. I was meant to run errands the other day and then I got this idea for a new campaign - It’s actually really cool I wanna tell you about it later - and anyway then I started writing that down and then Wayne came home and-”

“Eddie!” you cut him off with an exasperated laugh.

“ What?” Eddie asked abruptly, finally looking at you. “Breathe!” you reminded him.

“Oh yeah m’sorry I just, I didn’t want you to think I had done this on purpose and I really didn’t I just- I’m rambling again. Shit sorry.” Eddie finally stopped talking and took the keys out of the ignition in defeat. “So I’m guessing the concert is a no-go,” you asked him quietly.

“I mean, hey we could always walk it” Eddie laughed “but uh we probably wouldn't get there for about twelve hours”

“Huh, I think we might miss the band if we did that.”

“Yeah probably” Eddie took a breath and started fiddling with his rings, you could tell he was disappointed; truthfully you weren’t that bothered. Sure it would have been amazing to go to your first concert, but you had already worked out that with no gas in the van you would end up staying at Eddie's tonight, and a night in with Eddie was one of your favourite things.

“Hey” you nudged Eddie’s arm with your hand, just trying to get his attention. “It’s okay. I mean there’ll be other concerts, right? We’ll try again then- I’ll drive us next time, no offence or anything” Eddie finally laughed again as you finished talking. “Yeah s’probably for the best.” You both silently got out of the van and walked back into the warmth of the trailer, neither of you felt the need to ask the other if you were going to stay the night, that question didn’t even need to be asked anymore, you both just knew you were always welcome. More than welcome, Eddie hated the nights you weren’t there, and he kept telling himself it was perfectly normal to feel that way towards his best friend.

Back in the trailer, you both stood in the kitchen as Eddie searched through cupboards looking for something to eat. “Do you just wanna order pizza or something? I was meant to go grocery shopping for Wayne but I uh, forgot” Eddie leant against the kitchen counter, his guilty face illuminated by the dim lights above him.

“Why does that not surprise me even a little bit” you shook your head, holding back a laugh as you said it, you hated how endearing you found him. He looked at you with a feigned hurt as his mouth dropped open “You wound me, princess”.

Before you could retaliate by reminding him that not ten minutes ago he announced he had also forgotten to fill up the van with gas, the exact thing that led to you being stuck at Eddie’s trailer for the night, he walked across the room and picked up the phone “What kind of pizza do you want sweets?”.

“I don’t mind Eds, just get your favourite” you mumbled as you walked over to throw yourself down on the sofa, trying to hide how your whole body seemed to react to the nickname. You really needed to work on the whole subtlety thing.

Eddie did order a pizza; he ordered what he knew was your favourite, not his.

He always did this, if there was anything he could do to make you happy, you best believe he would crawl to the ends of the earth to do it. Like when your car broke down and had to be in the garage for a week; Eddie picked you up for school every morning. Sure, it meant he had to wake up an hour earlier than normal, and then drive all the way across town to your house, which was in the opposite direction of the school, to get you. But he promised you he didn’t mind. And he really didn’t. So much so that when your car was fixed, Eddie offered to carry on carpooling with you anyway, he told you it was just easier that way.

“Look, this way you don’t have to waste money on gas, and it’ll stop me from getting bored having to drive on my own. Plus uh, you know, if I’m getting you every morning I might actually graduate this year, turning up on time for school will help with that I ‘spose” Eddie laughed awkwardly as he finished speaking, whilst fiddling with his rings, as you sat across from him in his van. That last part was absolutely true and Eddie knew it. The rest of it was just an excuse to spend time with you. You didn’t need to know that though.

“Okay, Eds, only if you’re sure though, I don’t wanna be a pain in the ass or anything”

“Are you kidding?” Eddie was sure you were joking but then he met your eyes and saw how uncertain you looked - it didn’t matter that you two had been friends for years now, you were still sure that you were a bother to everyone around you. Eddie knew you struggled with feeling secure in your relationships, platonic or romantic. Eddie also knew this was because of your parents; growing up with a mom and dad who made sure to let you know just how much you disrupted their lives, by simply existing, left you with a sort of unhealthy worldview. To put it mildly. You found it nearly impossible to believe that someone could actively choose to have you be a part of their life, let alone change their life to better fit you into it. - Eddie had seen that look on your face a million times, he hated that you saw yourself as such a burden, so instead of making one of his signature sarcastic comments, Eddie said “Y/N do you know how important you are to me? Do you think I would bestow the title of best friend on just anyone? No, absolutely not sweetheart - that title is an honour and it is saved for just you” You giggled as he began his theatrics, voice going all dramatic and hands flying around in emphasis. “So I never want to hear this bullshit about being a pain in my ass again, okay?”

“Okay” heat rushed to your cheeks and you held back a love-struck smile as you looked at Eddie. You really hoped he didn’t notice.

Of course he did, he noticed everything about you. But he somehow still didn’t believe that you were in love with him. Or that he was in love with you. Actually, that was a lie, he knew that he was in love with you, but he promised himself he would never act on those feelings. He tried to push them down and pretend they didn’t exist. He would ignore the way his heart raced whenever he first saw you in the mornings, all smiles accompanied by a small wave as you walked over to his van. He ignored the way that he felt his skin set on fire whenever your hand touched his arm. Or how he felt like the only time anyone really looked at him, was when you looked at him. He knew that if he let himself, his feelings would become all-consuming. So he kept a lock on them, constantly holding the floodgates closed, in hopes that he wouldn’t someday wake up and himself drowning in them. No, Eddie had decided long ago that losing you would be far worse than living with his (what he believed to be) unrequited feelings.

Once Eddie had ordered the pizza he sat down next to you on the sofa, expecting you to lean against him like you normally did. You had always been touchy-feely, always needing to have physical contact with him. Whether it was a hand resting on his arm, or your legs being delicately thrown over his lap whilst you both sat and talked until the early hours of the morning. “Hey” he bumped your shoulder with his, rousing you from your thoughts and you pulled your gaze from the television, where old cartoons were playing silently and looked at him. “Hey to you too” you whispered back.

“I really am sorry we couldn’t go to the concert” he murmured sheepishly. You saw the genuine guilt on his face and it was hard not to reach over and hug him. “I’m an idiot” he continued to talk when you didn’t reply. “You really are an idiot’ you said with fake seriousness, his mouth dropped and he scoffed, trying to look offended by your words. You leaned into him more and laughed “But you’re my idiot, so it’s okay. I wouldn’t want you any other way.” You told him, and you saw him bite back a smile, trying to hide how smitten he was with you.

“Right back at you sweets”

“Eddie Munson are you saying I’m an idiot too” you pulled back your head from where it had dropped onto his shoulder and looked at him properly for the first time you had walked back into the trailer, you felt your cheeks heat up from your close proximity to him.

“What- no, no I just meant like, I wouldn’t want you any other way either! Y’know? You’re pretty damn perfect” Eddie spoke those last words so quietly you almost didn’t hear them.

“I don't think so. I think you’re just biased. I’ve tricked you into liking me actually, didn’t you know that?” you giggled as Eddie reacted to what you said. “Oh yeah? And how have you done that?” Eddie leant further away from you so he could really look at you. “Well I can’t tell you that or it would ruin it! But we both know it wasn’t my sparkling personality that won you over” you joked.

When you met Eddie you were in a pretty bad place mentally, you had never gotten along with your parents but it got really bad a couple of years ago, around the same time you became friends; safe to say you weren’t much fun to be around. You still struggled to understand why Eddie had even bothered to spend the time breaking through the walls you had put up around yourself, but he did. And you loved him for that, no one else had ever spent so much time getting to know who you really were.

“Don’t say that. It actually was your dazzling personality that did it for me I’ll have you know. You might not like yourself sometimes but I’m a pretty big fan, you’re the only thing your damn parents did right, I should probably thank them for that one day.” You pulled your legs up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, looking away from Eddie and back to the cartoons playing. “You’re so cheesy” It was all you could think to say, he was being sweet again and you didn’t trust yourself to say much more without giving away how desperately in love you were.

Before you could register what was happening Eddie had jumped up abruptly and was halfway across the room, leaning down to put music on. “What’re you doing’ you asked him. “Jus’ though that even if we can’t go to the concert that doesn’t mean we can’t still have fun” He turned and held his hand out for you to take, a smile plastered on his face, the kind of smile that felt like he had swept you off your feet into a tight hug. You couldn’t say no to Eddie, so you reached your hand out and he grabbed it, pulling you up gently.

The music kicked in and you laughed as Eddie started singing along to it “What’re we doing?” you shouted slightly so he could hear your voice over the song. “We’re being rockstars, what else?” Eddie let go of your hand and suddenly started singing more energetically, hands flailing around him as he danced to the music - it wasn’t good dancing, but in his defence, it was kind of hard to dance to his kind of music.

You watched him and couldn’t stop the laughs that bubbled up inside of you, “Come on princess don’t leave me to do this alone, I’ll look ridiculous by myself!” You shook your head and then started singing as loud as you could. Eddie shouted in delight and joined back in, watching as you sang and danced around the living room, the only lights being a small lamp in the corner and the TV set illuminating the room. You don’t know how long you did this for, you must have gone through three or four songs, both of you acting like you were on stage, Eddie even did air guitar at one point. That made you stop and keel over laughing, you knew he could play the guitar, but his air guitar was awful, not even trying to make it look realistic. You loved it.

“Dance with me” You stopped your little performance - you thought you were doing pretty good if you did say so yourself - and looked at Eddie. “We are dancing” You responded. “No, dance with me.” Eddie walked over to you and his fingers grazed yours. “Eds we can’t exactly dance to this” you retaliated, though you still let him hold your hands in his bigger ones. “Sure we can” smiled “Just follow my lead”. He went to move one hand to your waist and hesitated before holding you, checking that this was okay with you. You smiled and nodded gently. One of your hands was still in his, and the other you had rested on his shoulder. He started swaying you both back and forth and you couldn’t help but bite back a smile

“Eddie this is ridicu-”

“Shh, jus’ dance with me. Ignore the music, kay?” Eddie looked at you so seriously that your breath almost hitched in your throat.

“Okay” Your voice was so quiet you were surprised he even heard you.

You and Eddie danced around the living room without saying another word to the other. The light from the TV flashing across both your faces. Eddie swirled you around and then pulled you in closer than you were before, chests almost touching. He stared right into your eyes and you did the same right back. You felt the mood change suddenly, but also not suddenly. Like you had both been waiting months for a chance like this, neither of you being brave enough to initiate anything until tonight. A haze fell over you and felt your whole body lean into him more, almost involuntarily. Like there had always been some invisible string connecting both of you, and you were finally going to stop fighting it.

With Eddie’s hands on your lower back and yours thrown around his neck, time seemed to stop. You couldn’t even hear the music anymore, all you could think about was Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. And how perfect he looked, how dark his eyes were, how his hair around his face and all you wanted to do was tangle your hands in it. You felt him move one of his hands up your back, all the way up to rest on your cheek, his thumb moving in small circles just under your eye. “Y/N I-”

A loud, abrupt knock on the door had both of you jumping back about a mile. “Shit, the pizza” Eddie froze for a moment then seemed to snap out of it, he turned off the music and grabbed his money to pay for the pizza. You stood there not saying anything as you tried to process what had just happened. What could have happened. Your brain was all fuzzy and your hands felt shaky and you hated how overwhelmed you get with everything.

You sat down on the sofa and turned the sound back on the TV. Were you supposed to say something? Act as if nothing had happened? You had no idea. Eddie had thanked the guy for the pizza and he brought it over to you, placing it between you both, sitting down on the other end of the sofa.

Shit. You had messed up. But he had been the one who held you like that, he was the one who pulled you closer. Shit, shit, shit. You didn’t want to lose your best friend.

“You okay?” Eddie asked, you followed his eye line down and saw how aggressively you were messing with your hands. You hadn’t even realised you were doing it. Fuck. “Yeah, m’fine. Hungry” You grabbed a piece of pizza and stared straight ahead at the TV.

Eddie didn’t push the matter. He was terrified he had just ruined everything, he tried so hard to push his feelings down, but at that moment he just couldn’t anymore. For a moment he thought you were okay with it, for a crazy second he swore you looked just as dizzy in love as he did. But then you both had to jump apart and you didn’t say anything. He brought the pizza over, and you still didn’t say anything. He sat away from you so you didn’t feel like he was trying to push himself on you. And just then you had so obviously brushed him off like you didn’t even want to look at him anymore. Shit, he thought, nice job asshole, you scared her away.

You both sat and ate the pizza in silence, watching whatever was playing on the TV. You finally braved a look over at Eddie and you couldn’t for the life of you work out the expression on his face. Annoyance? Hurt? His eyes were glued to the TV and his lips were pressed together in a firm line. You uncrossed your legs and stood up “Bathroom” you simply said to Eddie, walking faster than normal, not wanting him to notice how your eyes had started to water, or how your lip was quivering.

You shut the door behind you and rested all your weight against it. Desperately trying to stop the tears you could feel threatening to fall. Your hands rested by your side, palms on the door as you steadied yourself. Closing your eyes you made a split decision that when you walked out of the bathroom you would tell Eddie you were feeling ill, with any luck he’d believe you and you could both go to bed.

Before you left the bathroom you walked in front of the mirror and stared back at yourself. Your eyeliner had smudged slightly from the tears you couldn’t stop, and the colour had drained from your face, how did you look so wrecked just from what had happened? Nothing had even happened! It was just the rush of so many emotions that had washed over you during the past hour. You shook your head, almost trying to shake the thoughts about Eddie out of your mind. It didn't work.

When you walked out of the bathroom you saw Eddie standing in the kitchen. His back to you as he put the leftover pizza in the fridge, then grabbed a post-it note and pen. Presumably to write a note to Wayne letting him know there was food left for him. You stood in the bathroom doorway for a second and then took a shaky breath before you walked to the kitchen, standing next to Eddie near the counter.

“I’m not feeling so-”

“Did you want to-”

You both spoke over each other and then cut yourselves off as you awkwardly waited for the other to speak. “Uh sorry, what’d you say?” Eddie looked at you with those doe eyes again and you felt your heart break. Again. “S’just that I’m not feeling so good” you saw the sudden panic spread across his face and instantly regretted saying it. “M’just tired I think, It’s been a long night. We should probably both just go to sleep, yeah?” You leaned back against the counter and you could just make out Eddie’s face drop slightly, features illuminated in the light of the fridge he had left open. He had turned out the lamp that was on before, you noticed. Making it even darker than it had been before.

He moved to stand in front of you and his eyes flicked across your face, so quickly you almost missed it. Then, almost too casually he just said “Oh yeah okay, that’s fine. D’you want me to sleep out here, you want some space?” You normally just slept in the same bed, it had never bothered you, or Eddie, before. The fact that he asked you that question told you everything you needed to know. He could see through the whole facade you were putting up. You dropped your gaze to the wall behind Eddie and crossed your arms over your chest. “No, no it's not- I don’t want you to leave me alone or anything” your voice was so quiet Eddie had to lean in slightly to make out what you were saying. “I just uh, I guess. Fuck” you were getting visibly frustrated with yourself and Eddie didn’t quite know what was going on with you.

“Y/N hey. Look at me.” Eddie’s soft voice rang out through the deafening silence and you felt tears starting to prick at your eyes again. No, no, no, you could not cry. Not right now. “Okay, why don’t I go get some blankets and pillows and we can sit on the sofa, watch a film or something yeah? M’not that tired, you can fall asleep though if you need sweets.”

You finally broke your gaze from the wall behind Eddie as he started to move away from you. Before you realised what you had done, you grabbed his wrist and he stopped dead in his tracks, turning back to face you, his eyebrows raising in a silent question. Your grip on his wrist loosened a bit and he took the opportunity to intertwine his fingers with yours, in an attempt to ground you. “Can you jus’ stay with me for a second” you whispered timidly.

“Yeah. Yeah ‘of course I can. I can do whatever you want me to, you know that. You just need to tell me what you need.” Eddie whispered back just as quietly as you had.

“Don’t say stuff like that” you were right on the edge, you were so overwhelmed. You just needed him, needed to be close to him.

“Why not?” Eddie squeezed your hand and you were back in the position you were at the start of the night. Eddie stood in front of you, holding your hand, trying to get you out of your own mind. Eddie was the only person you could do that. Make you feel okay again.

‘Because” you replied, your voice straining as you said it.

“Because what, sweetheart” Eddie breathed. He was right on the edge with you.

Fuck it.

Your free hand reached up to grab the back of his neck and you pulled Eddie into you. Your lips meeting so softly and quickly that you almost didn’t register what has happened. But it had happened. You had kissed Eddie. You pulled back and stared at Eddie, you saw the shock wash over his face and for a minute you thought the worst.

But then he reached up with both hands to cup your cheeks and smashed his lips onto yours. It felt real this time. You didn’t even hesitate for a second, kissing Eddie back with just as much need as he kissed you. Your lips slotting together perfectly, like you were made to kiss only each other. Your hands fisted in his t-shirt as you desperately pulled him closer, mouths moving against each others in perfect harmony, you both moved at exactly the right time, kissing deeper and longer each time.

Kissing Eddie felt like floating and drowning at the same time. It felt like falling into bed after an impossibly long day. It felt like that first sip of water you take in the morning. It felt like waking up to snow when you were a child. It felt like everything you ever needed.

You only pulled away from each other when you physically couldn't breathe anymore. Both leaning your foreheads against each other as you breathed heavily, trying to get your breaths back.

“Fuck sweetheart” Eddie lowered his hands to your waist and you felt electricity run through you everywhere his hands were. “Uh-huh” was all you could say in response, you weren’t sure words would come out even if you tried to speak. “Are you okay? M’sorry I didn’t mean to get so um. You just, you kissed me and I. We don’t have to do this, I know you’re not feeling-” You smiled and it stopped Eddie from talking. “Just kiss me, Eddie”.

You didn’t have to ask him twice. He smiled a giddy smile and kissed you again. Your hands moved to rest at the nape of his neck and you tilted your head, letting Eddie kiss you more. That was all you wanted. More, more, more. He felt like your life-support.

Eddie could feel the desperation from the way your hands pulled gently at his hair and he had to hold back a whimper. He ran his tongue over your bottom lip, silently asking for permission. You granted it immediately, opening your mouth and letting Eddie slip his tongue into yours, deepening the kiss. You let out an honest-to-goodness moan, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed.

You just kept kissing Eddie.

All you could think about was his tongue in your mouth and how soft his lips felt. How soft his hair was between your fingers as you pulled on it gently. How perfect his hands are on your cheeks, waist, neck, everywhere, all at once. It was so overwhelming, in the most perfect way.

Eddie pushed you back slightly so that you were completely pressed up against the counter. You separated for only a split second so you could take a breath, but Eddie didn’t go far. His lips trailed down your jaw and to your neck, kissing every bit of your skin he could.

You threw your head back, exposing more of your neck for Eddie to kiss. He left little open-mouth kisses all over. He felt your whole body shiver and he realised he’d found your sweet spot. He smiled into your neck and doubled his efforts, alternating between sucking and kissing you right there, his teeth grazing over it occasionally. Your whole body was on fire, you were sure of it.

You reached your hands deeper into Eddie’s hair and pushed him further into your neck “Fuck Eddie it’s so-”

“What sweetheart” Eddie mumbled into your neck, not letting up for even a second.

“Feels so good Eds” you whimpered out and Eddie swore he died there and then. He sucked harder on your sweet spot and licked his tongue over it to soothe it.

You pulled him back up you and smashed your mouth into his with so much desperation that they met with a clatter of teeth and noses banging into each other, but it was all you needed. This time you pushed your tongue into his mouth and his thumb rubbed soft circles into your cheek. You made out for who knows how long, it might have been five minutes or an hour, but you couldn’t tell anymore. All you know is at some point Eddie lifted you onto the counter and his hand went to your thigh, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.

You lowered your mouth to Eddie's neck, just like he had done to you, and you didn’t let up until he was outright moaning, pulling your body as close to his as was physically possible. “Angel we should stop” Eddie managed to moan out.

You stopped instantly and raised your head to look at him “Are you okay?” you asked, sounding just as fucked out as you felt. He had barely touched you and you were a goner.

“Am I okay? Shit sweetheart. Yeah, I’m okay, S’just” Eddie’s hands were rubbing up and down your back, as he spoke to you. “We should probably stop now, right?”

You knew what Eddie was asking. “What if I don’t want to stop,” you replied quietly.

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t” Eddie let out a shaky breath and you felt his grip on you get a little bit tighter.

“Sweetheart, I really need you to tell me exactly what it is you want here.”

Fuck it. “I want you to touch me, Eddie”

Within a second Eddie had lifted you off the counter and carried you over to the sofa, laying you down as he hovered above you, going back to kissing you instantly. His hands on either side of your head, holding himself up.

You wrapped your legs back around Eddie's waist, silently begging him to come closer. He obliged as he rested more of his weight on you, grinding his hips down ever so gently, but it was enough to pull a moan from the back of your throat.

“Yeah, sweetheart” Eddie smirked down at you and moved to kiss your neck. “That feel good?”

“Eddie- fuck, more” Your eyes felt so heavy and all you could focus on was how good he was making you feel already. You raised your hips slightly, trying to get the pressure just where you needed it; but you were so fucked out that your movements were erratic and desperate. Eddie laughed quietly and kept grinding his hips into, going a bit harder as he realised this was without a doubt what you wanted. Using his hand that wasn’t holding him up to grab onto your hip, gently moving his hand under the fabric so it was resting on your small bit of skin that was now exposed.

“Shit angel keep making those pretty noises for me, kay? Can you do that?” Eddie lifted his head from your neck and watched your face, your eyes almost shut and your mouth dropped open slightly; your cheeks flushing a bright crimson.

When you didn’t answer him he stopped moving his hips and you let out a desperate whimper. And Eddie had to hold himself back from fucking you there and then, he never imagined you’d be so pretty like this. “Look at me, hey. I said are you gonna keep making those pretty noises for me?” Eddie dipped down to press a chaste kiss to your mouth. “Use your words sweetheart”

“fuck.. yeah please.. please just” Your legs tightened their hold on his waist and you tried so hard to compose yourself. “Jus’ touch me. Please”

“Okay okay. I’ve got you sweets.” Eddie moved his hand so slowly you were sure he was teasing you. Which he was to some extent, but he also just wanted you to have time to change your mind.

Eddie’s hand grazed your thigh and his fingers gently began to move your skirt up around your hips. “‘S this okay love?”

Fuck. The pet names were going to be the death of you. “Yes yes please, ‘s more than okay” You sounded so breathless that Eddie moved back to kiss you again, he wasn’t sure if he did it to calm you or calm himself. As your mouths moved against each other, his fingers rested on your panties and his breath hitched as he felt how wet you were.

“Jesus baby why didn’t you say something sooner? You’re dripping angel”

“Mhm. ‘M sorry”

“Don’t say sorry. Jus’ wish I’d known sooner. Shit, thought about you like this so much.” Eddie grazed his fingers over you again and you moved your hips against his hand, you didn’t know if it was his hand or his words that had you whimpering out little breathless ‘please’ and ‘ed’s’ but it seemed to be all you could say anymore.

“‘M right here okay, don’t need to beg pretty, not this time anyway” Eddie’s eyes locked with yours again as he dipped his fingers under the fabric covering your cunt and dragged his fingers through your folds, coating his fingers in you before he started to rub over your clit.

“Oh fuck- holy shit” Your back arched off the sofa and Eddie didn’t break eye contact with you for one second, completely in awe of how reactive you were being with him. Sure he’d slept with other people before, but they’d never been like you were. You were so sensitive to everything he did, all he’d done was rub small, slow circles over your clit and you were putty in his hands.

“You’re so sensitive sweetheart. ‘S it always like this? or is this just for me?” Eddie dipped his head down to your neck again and started sucking on your sweet spot - making you mewl and whimper underneath him even more than you already were.

“Never like this.. oh shit.. ‘s just you. you’re so good” You were just saying words at this point, your brain couldn’t keep up with your mouth. You pushed your head back into the sofa even more, trying to expose more of your neck for Eddie to kiss and mark.

Eddie made some unintelligible noise into your neck to let you know he’d heard what you just said. His two fingers halted their movements and your eyes flew open to see what he was doing. He smirked at your reaction, shit if you got this desperate each time he was a dead man.

He moved one finger down and slowly dipped it inside yoy. You let out an embarrassingly loud moan and your hands grabbed at Eddie’s t-shirt desperately. He knew what you were asking for before you even had time to ask. He sat up slightly, removing his hand from your cunt, and pulled his t-shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the living room. You had seen Eddie topless a few times, but you had always made an effort not to stare, excusing yourself from the room or just averting your eyes. But now you were staring without shame, and was so pretty.

You reached up for him again and wrapped your arms around his back. He leant back down to his previous position and moved his hand back down to where you so desperately needed him.

Eddie was trying to be a gentleman here, and take it slow. But he could feel how desperate he was now. He looked at your face again as he took two of his fingers and dipped them inside you.

“Oh fuck.. ed’s” You moaned out as his fingers started moving in and out of you. You couldn’t get over how perfect this all felt, it wasn’t even slightly awkward. But that was probably helped by how talented Eddie was with his fingers. He does play guitar, you thought. Of course.

Eddie didn’t move down to kiss you again, and when you tried to lift your head up to him he tutted and you dropped it again confused. His hand resting next to your head fisted into the cushion you were resting your head on. “Stay there angel, I wanna see your face when you cum okay?”

You nodded your head so quickly he laughed breathily and whispered a quiet “good girl”.

Fuck. You were sure you died there and then.

Your eyebrows furrowed together and you let out the sweetest little sound he had heard you make all night. “Oh shit- you wanna be my good girl sweetheart?” Eddie had a shit-eating grin on his face, his fingers not faltering for even a second.

“Yeah,, oh god,, baby please”

You had never called Eddie anything like that before. But baby? Before he had realised what he was doing he had moved to have both of his legs encompassing one of yours, and he grinded his hips down onto your soft thigh. Desperate for some sort of friction.

You watched as Eddi moved against you and let out a tiny, almost inaudible moan. Shit, you made a mental note to make him make those sounds much more often.

Eddie curled his fingers up inside you and hit your sweet spot. Your nails dug into the skin of his back as you tried to ground yourself. Eddie made you feel like you were floating.

You felt the pressure building and building inside of you and you knew you couldn’t hold on much longer.

“Eddie ‘m gonna cum” you breathed out.

Eddie snapped his head up from where his neck had dipped slightly, lost in how good you felt and sounded.

“Yeah baby? Gonna be a good girl and cum for me”

You whimpered and nodded your head, closing your eyes tightly as you felt that coil in your stomach tightening.

“Fuck angel come on. cum for me” Eddie kept his fingers moving just the way you needed him to. His eyes locked on your face, contorted in pleasure.

“Shit ed’s,, oh god,, please fuck” You didn’t even know what you were begging for. You just needed Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You were so drunk on him you felt dizzy. You didn’t even realise you were moaning his name over and over.

“I know sweetheart, I’m right here. Let go for me, come on”

That was all it took to push you over the edge, you felt that pressure run through you and it felt so so good. Your eyes screwed tightly shut and your mouth hanging open as your back arched, like your body was trying to get as close to Eddie as was humanly possible.

“That’s my girl. Fuck,, Jus’ let go for f’me” Eddie didn’t slow his fingers for even a second, determined to drag your orgasm out for as long as possible.

“Shit baby you’re so fuckin’ pretty when you come” You barely heard Eddie over the ringing in your ears. Your whole body felt white-hot and you weren’t sure what noises you were making, but Eddie seemed to like them. Grinding his hips down on your thigh faster and harder. His own moans seemingly getting louder with every movement. Until you felt him drop his weight down onto you and bury his face in your neck.

Suddenly everything seemed to get too much and you pushed Eddie’s hand away from you, your whole body shaking. You opened your eyes and realised you had left marks all over Eddie’s back.

Eddie lifted his head from your neck and pulled his hand up to his mouth, before you could ask what he was doing he had dipped his fingers into his mouth as he licked you off of him.

That might have been the hottest thing you had ever seen. Eddie noticed the blush that crept onto your face and asked “You want a taste angel?”

You just grabbed his wrist and pulled his two fingers into your mouth, running your tongue over them again and again.

“Eddie that was-“

“Yeah”

You turned your head to the side trying to hide your face from. You don’t know why you were getting nervous now, but Eddie wasn’t having any of it. He gently grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer finger and lowered his lips to yours. Your mouth opening instantly to let his tongue run over your own.

You made out for a while, your hands intertwined. You both just needed a minute to breathe. Which was made slightly more difficult with his tongue in your mouth. But you worked around it.

After a while Eddie pulled back, not moving his body off you, just lifting his head enough to look at you. The hand that wasn’t holding yours pushed your hair back behind your ear. You blushed and he thought it was adorable that he had just made you come and yet that made you nervous.

“Hey uh if it wasn’t already obvious. I uh, am ridiculously in love with you.” You stared at Eddie, taking in his confession.

“I’m in love with you too, dumbass.”

authors note: this is the first fanficiton i have ever written, so it's safe to say i'm more than a little nervous to be posting it. this was originally meant to be a drabble so i have no idea how it got to 7.9k. also i'm sorry the smut is so bad and short! i had no idea how to write it so it kind of got cut short, regardless i hope you enjoyed it, maybe<3

also i'm sorry if there are any spelling or grammar errors! i proof read this once and then gave up <3

tags: @myobmaya @ali-r3n

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie smut #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson the love of my life

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flamingpudding · 1 year ago

Text

Part 3 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

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Feral brother of mine

When Damien first saw the video from Todd's helmet he only thought of his older brother as an imbecile that apparently couldn't handle children that was until Drake paused the video on the child's face before the video cut off.

Then Richard pointed out the similarities to Damien and of course his first thought was that his mother had made another clone again that they would need to dispose of. That was until he took a closer look at the image when Drake zoomed in. It was still blurry but Damien would recognise that face anywhere and in any state.

Despite his memory being faded it was the face of someone he never wanted to forget and would let freely hunt his dreams. Even if it was to recall the good times or even the bad times through nightmares. Freckles that mirrored constellations and scar by the ear from a training session when the others' dodging ability had not yet been up to par when they were five. Hair longer than his own and less tameable.

Danyal Al Ghul.

His twin that he killed at the age of eight when their grandfather forced them into a fight to death. This was not a simple clone of Damien himself and the teen was pretty sure that his mother must have lost it. Because what else then a clone of his own brother could this be, she probably must have preserved some of Danyal's DNA if not his entire body for this. He must also applaud her cruelty, for the clone was at the exact age his brother had died at.

He does not know why nor how his mother had managed to cause glowing Lazarus green eyes. None of his clones had ever shown these before but a part of him didn't want to know. It already made him sick enough to know that his mother would go so far as to clone Danyal.

All he wanted was to get rid of this cruel clone that wore his long dead brother's face. The knowledge of his brother was something Damien held dear. It was something that belonged to him only and the burden of his death was not something he ever wanted to share either. Besides what use would it be to his family to mourn a member they never would have gotten to meet.

Even as he glared at Todd, who had let loose the feral clone. He could not bring himself to tell them that this was most likely not just a simple clone of himself.

"Come on guys, there is a child running around the Bat Cave. You can fight later about how to safely keep the boy in check."

Clicking his tongue he turned away from his older siblings and drew out his katana. "<tt> I will get rid of that thing myself."

A thing, that was what it was. Damien didn't need his personal feelings or his memories of a twin that could smile brighter than the desert sun despite their pain, get in the way of his rationality. He could not allow this mockery of his twin brother to live on.

He went for the darker areas of the Cave knowing the league trained mind and he was in luck as he was the first to find the feral child hidden away in the area that lead to the medbay. By now the thing was even armed. Damien recognised the dagger as one of his training once, he probably had accidentally left it out of its casing after training right before patrol.

The ex-league prodigy did not give the clone time to react as he attacked without warning. Chasing it through the Bat Cave as it avoided his attacks yet made no move to attack him the way it had Todd. At times the way it dodged made Damien stutter slightly something that never happened before. He slashed at it, ignoring his siblings that shouted for him to stop from the side lines. Ignoring the flashes in his mind of a fight years ago that was similar yet so different.

"I will not let this mockery run free." He muttered pointing his blade as it hissed at him in return. What a feral thing it was, he waited for it to make the first move this time. Clones were not perfect, their forms were lacking, They might retain skills of their original but they rarely were the same let alone cable of thinking outside of what their creator, his mother wanted. He pointedly ignored anything he new about certain clones. They weren't created by his mother, therefore did not count in regards to his conclusion. Yet it was painful seeing this mockery of his dead brother appearing like a perfect copy.

The stance it held with the dagger, despite the feral hissing and movements, it was the exact same his brother had. Sword stances, like martial arts stances had a basic form, every wielder learned and then developed further into their own unique one with time. Danyal had one where he tended to hold the dagger or even swords backwards in his left hand while his right arm covered his empty side with a slight tilt to the back, always ready to reach for any weapon he would carry in hidden pockets on his back.

It was painful to see this clone, this thing mimicking his brother's stand this perfectly. Damien could only narrow his eyes in determination, or was it desperation by now? This was just one more reason to get rid of it. It just hurt even more when with a quick gaze towards the hand that held the dagger Damien also noticed a bad habit his brother had always retained and the league had also never been able to train out of him. It was a small habit, unnoticeable if you wouldn't look for it, yet dangerous to the sword / dagger wielder if they were inexperienced.

Danyal tended to let his thumb rest against the guard if the blade had one or against the blade itself even if it didn't have one. He knows that his twin used to have scaring on his thumb from this habit, especially from their early training years.

This thing was even imitating his brother's habit.

He wanted it gone. Rip it apart and present it to his mother with all the anger and grief it brought to him.

"Guys stop Damien now! That is not a clone!" He heard Drake yell from where the Batcomputer was but he didn't care. This was a clone, so he lunged at the it again. Ignoring how the clone had studied him like he had it. Ignoring how its stance had changed the longer they had watched each other and how that thing let its guard down all of a sudden.

"Damien! Stop!"

It dropped all defenses and Damien could only see that as his chance to deal the final blow to get rid of it. But what he didn't expect despite the dropped defenses was for the clone to also just drop the dagger, close its eyes and smile. The same smile that still hunted his nightmares. His mind flashed back to eight years ago.

"Demon brat! Calm the fuck down!"

The blade stopped inches from the same fatal placement that had killed his brother before. Drake and Richard were right behind him while Todd was by the clone's side gripping at the blade with his bare hands, most likely bleeding already.

"Why?" Damien uttered quietly, his eyes trained on the thing. Richard must have thought that his question had been directed towards them stopping him but that wasn't the case.

"Look Dami, how about listening to what Tim found out first before we decide what to do with that child?"

"Not you." He couldn't help but snap back at them as he withdrew his katana, hearing Todd mutter something about sharp blades and bandaids as well as several curses under his breath. His eyes stayed on the thing. "Why would you let me kill you? Why drop your defence ces? Why not dodge?"

The thing titled its head its glowing green eyes were trained on Damien and he noticed how they flickered into a blue that was so familiar yet so different with the way they glowed. It made chirping noises before it whispered something.

"ahbak, Dami"

Damien froze for a moment there at the quiet words the thing had whispered. How was he supposed to react now? Was this even a clone, no he knew this was a clone. There was no way Danyal was alive let alone still eight years old. He had killed his own brother, he had held him in his own arms as Danyal took his final breath, smiling at him and uttering the same words he had just heard again after so many years.

Even if Danyal had survived somehow then he should be the same age as him. Not the age he had died at. Besides, their grandfather would have never allowed them to use the pits to revive his twin.

"FUCK!"

Intentionally or not Todd's outcry had ripped him out of his thoughts by a rather pathetic yowl of pain. It was like a switch had been flipped in the clone's mind as his brother had reached out to probably detain it again. The moment Todd had touched him, the thing had bitten into his hand before letting go, hissing and running away from them once more.

But instead of running after that thing Damien stood frozen in place, his mind still racing. He could feel Richard's hands on his shoulders, grounding the teenager with the warmth they provided. "You okay there Baby Bird? You seem rather out of it suddenly."

"<tt> I am fine." His only offered answer, ignoring the worried looks he was getting as he moved to wipe Todd's blood off his blade. He needed a distraction before his mind became any more chaotic and unreasonable. "What did Drake find out?"

"Right… you sure you want to hear that right now?" Giving Richard an unimpressed stare, the oldest sighed looking over towards Drake.

"Well I got good news and probably bad news." Side eyeing his brother Damien kept silent waiting for him to continue.

"I can safely say that the child is not a clone. His DNA does not 100% match yours. It differs too much but - and this is where it's probably bad news - it matches with you to 45%, with a matching to Bruce to about 50%, same with Talia. If I run a paternity test I am sure it would be a hit for Bruce and Talia."

Damien swallowed taking in that information, knowing what it meant. Was he horrified? Yes. Did it also awaken a strange sort of hope? Also, Yes.

"But there was a third compartment of the child's DNA structure which was impossible to test. It could even corrupt DNA samples if not taken apart from the rest. It probably has something to do with the green specs I found in his blood too. So I ran a substance analysis and - you probably won't like this - but it got a hit from a substance we have recorded in our database."

"What substance?" Damien knew, he just knew he wouldn't like the next words Drake would say. He could feel Richard squeezing his shoulder as if to help him keep stable.

"Lazarus Water. It matched with what we have recorded from the Lazarus Pits."

"Drake, are you telling me that after eight years, my mother who apparently had preserved my dead twin brother's body, dropped said body into the Lazarus Pits to revive him and then drop him off with Todd of all people?"

"Yes, wait… dead twin brother's body?"

#danny fenton #danny phantom #danny and damian are twins #de aged danny #dp x dc #feral danny #fanfic #damian wayne #jason todd #tim drake #richard grayson #dc x dp #unedited #crossover #no beta wie die like danny #he still only bites jason #I have no idea if I used ahbak correctly #still learning how to best blog fanfics here #dpxdc

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h0neysp1ce · 4 months ago

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༊*·˚ Aʅԋαιƚԋαɱ

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ Character Parings : Alhaitham, Fem! Reader Constellations: Head canons + Scenarios Warning(s): Spoilers for Sumeru Archon Quests, Alhaitham's Character/personality?? Tags: established Relationship, Fluff?? A/N: Hey guys! I'm new to Tumblr and writing head cannons and maybe even fics later on. I figured I start writing today! (Edited) ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

Word Count: 396

⋆.ೃ࿔ :･🌱⋆.ೃ࿔ :･ ⋆.ೃ࿔ :･🌱⋆.ೃ࿔ :･ ⋆.ೃ࿔ :･🌱⋆.ೃ࿔ :･⋆.ೃ࿔ :･🌱⋆.ೃ࿔ :･

᯽- Alhaitham is certainly the kind of man who is straightforward with you. He’s a rather blunt individual, so you should expect him not to sugarcoat things. He always takes a logical approach, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

᯽- Alhaitham's most prominent hobby is reading, and he enjoys it when you take the time to sit with him while he catches up on his books.

᯽- His primary love languages are Acts of Service and Gift-Giving. He’ll take care of tasks without you even asking—from cooking meals and handling all the chores to cleaning the entire house.

᯽- "It was my turn to do the chores today." You glance over at him as he reads a book. "And?" he trails off. "I figured since you were already asleep, I would take it upon myself to do all the cleaning."

᯽- He wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t want to wake or disturb you. You looked quite peaceful while you slept, and he didn’t want to ruin that for you—perhaps it’s also out of respect for you.

᯽- Pet names aren’t something he uses. He’d rather refer to you by your name.

᯽- You knew each other through mutual connections. You are his and Kaveh’s childhood best friend.

᯽- Although Alhaitham isn’t the type to be very physically affectionate, he loves cuddling with you. He wouldn’t admit it at first, as he found romantic gestures like that a bit excessive, but over time he grew to appreciate and love them.

᯽- On mornings when you both have to wake up for work, it might go something like this:

᯽- You were already awake before he was and about to get out of bed when you heard him ask for just five more minutes. Was he sick? This was out of character for him. He seemed to be half asleep and half aware. You ended up cuddling for another five minutes, with him whispering and cooing while holding you in an embrace, expressing how he wished the cuddling session could last forever but sadly couldn’t due to work.

᯽- You might also get a few kisses and pecks from him during these moments—nothing but sweet and wholesome between the two of you.

#alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham headcanons #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin impact #alhaitham x you #genshin impact x you #alhaitham fluff #genshin fluff

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stay-mon-army · 1 year ago

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Daydream Kisses

Word Count: 4,040 words

Warning(s): Self-doubt, pining, like one swear word, angst (I really need some healing and OPLA Sanji is giving it to me)

Pairing: Sanji x GN!reader

After the conversation you had with Sanji, your life on the Going Merry couldn’t possibly have been any better. You felt calmer around Sanji, able to simply enjoy the company he was willing to provide. You spent time with all of the crew, laughing and drinking and making memories, but you spent the most time by far with the chef.

You were able to ignore the teasing looks and whispers most of the crew gave you when they noticed you spending so much time with the cook. You knew what they thought – you had heard it all from Nami, but you weren’t going to let them goad you into thinking bad thoughts again. After all, your conversation with Sanji had cleared it all up, you were feeling good about spending time with the chef in whatever capacity made the both of you happy.

However, your mind never could totally shut off.

One night, you lie awake, tossing and turning as you think over and over all the little things that happen between you and Sanji. You had sworn you wouldn’t think about what Nami had said to you that fateful morning, but you couldn’t help it.

Be with Sanji? Was that something you wanted? What would that be like?

Your mind wandered off, imagining the lovely life you could have with the chef. You already spent hours beside him, talking, working quietly beside each other, sharing quips and teasing glances and gentle touches. When you went into town with him to shop for groceries for the next voyage, he would often grasp your hand in his, ensuring you didn’t get separated in the crowded markets. He would lean into the counter to watch you while you talked, and he would always watch you closely, eyes dancing between your eyes and your lips as he let you try a taste of his newest recipe. He would pull you into a hug whenever you shared something even a little sad, like the time you saw a really pretty dragonfly get eaten by a flying fish. He was always right beside you during any dangerous moments, putting himself between you and the perceived danger.

What more would change, truly, if you were to tell Sanji you liked him?

Well for starters, he might kiss you. You imagined telling him, whispering your feelings to him one day in the kitchen, playing with your hands in a way you hope shows your excitement and your fear in equal measure. He would grin that beautiful breath-taking smile, like the world was opening up to swallow you whole. He would reach out for you, his hands resting against your elbows, then sliding up, up, up until one held your back and the other looped into your hair. He would pull himself ever closer, tilting your head to angle towards him, his lips coming down to just a hairs-breadth away. His breath would smell like mint and tobacco, ghosting against your lips as he breathed out a quiet, “may I, my love?” And the shiver your body gave in response would be all he needed before he dipped down and pressed your lips together in a slow, sweet kiss like you had never imagined.

Yeah, that would change things.

But there were some things you wouldn’t mind changing between you both.

You could imagine coaxing him from the kitchen after a long day of cooking, the contented, tired look in his eyes that he gets after another successful day full of recipes. Your hands would tug his, leading him out to the deck, where you would find the comfiest spot. You would lay down beside him there, on the deck, underneath the star-dusted sky, watching the way the world rocked from the waves lapping against the sides of the boat. You’d curl into his arms, your head resting against his shoulder as he held you, letting you point out particularly bright stars or what you imagined to be the constellations. You’d talk about your days, even though you spent most of it together; you’d talk about the future, dreaming of what would happen when you found the One Piece and the All Blue together. You wouldn’t be able to resist reaching up to press kisses against his collarbone, neck, cheek, lips, loving the way he melted into your touches, letting you do whatever you wanted because he just loved you this close so much. You could see yourself falling asleep like that, tucked underneath a blanket, wrapped in the chef’s warmth and comforting scent, drifting into a dream-filled sleep with thoughts of Sanji in your head.

Let’s just say sleep was hard to find when you thought of what you might want, how that might change things.

Some nights, you would wander out onto the deck, enjoying the sea breeze in the hopes it would chase away your aggressive thoughts. You hated that you worried so much – you had gotten better in some ways at dealing with your crazy thoughts since talking to Sanji, but in others you had become a total mess. You didn’t worry about your interactions with Sanji, but man, the moment you thought about your internal feelings? All hell broke loose and you hated every minute of it.

Tonight was one such night where your hammock and the darkness of your bedroom seemed like a war zone of battling desires. You hadn’t been afraid of the dark in years, but suddenly the moonlight created shadows of the blond chef, making you wish he was beside you in ways that sent shivers down your back.

You breathed in deep of the salty spray, staring up at the sparkling expanse above. Nothing settled you quite as much as the stars – they were soothing in their silent watchfulness, observing without judgment, taking in the lives of everyone below without malice or opinion. They wouldn’t comment on your wild thoughts, your deep-seated worries, your hopes and desires. They would simply watch, stand witness to the life you lead, beside you through all of it. The stars never leave.

You almost miss the tell-tale tapping of dress shoes across the deck, your mind too distant racing among the stars.

“Why are you awake so late, darling? You’ll catch your death out here in the cold.” Sanji drapes his coat across your shoulders, smoothing the sleeves against your arms before moving to stand beside you. The gentle press of his hands against your arms, even through the fabric of your shirt and his jacket, brings back the thoughts you had come out to avoid and you tried to blink away the embarrassing heat that courses through your body at the feeling.

“Couldn’t sleep, is all.” You say, pinching the edge of the jacket between your forefinger, middle, and thumb to tug it closer around your body. You don’t look over at the man beside you, afraid to meet his gaze after the thoughts that had been devouring your consciousness for the past few hours. “What are you doing up?”

“I had to prep for breakfast tomorrow. I was thinking of making a quiche with some breakfast potatoes.” You smiled, nodding to yourself. Of course, what other reason could he have for being awake. “If you’d like, I could make you some tea to help you fall asleep, my dear. I would hate to leave you with a restless night.”

You shake your head, finally looking over at the blond. He’s watching you with kind, gentle eyes. He wasn’t worried or anything, just attentive – paying attention to your needs and asks of him with precision. “I don’t think tea will do much.” Making jokes was the only way you could deal with the thoughts running through your head.

Sanji raises his eyebrow, smiling at you with that comforting look still gracing his eyes. “What could I do to assist you in sleep, my love? Perhaps you’d like to talk about what’s keeping you awake?”

You flush, quickly looking away, laughing awkwardly at the clear sign you just gave. You raise a hand to rub at the skin of your face, hoping it will make the blood go away and save you from your embarrassing moment.

“I don’t know. I don’t think that will fix much either. Might just make it worse.” You mumble, looking back up at the stars, wishing you could be scooped into the moon’s cold embrace.

“Would you rather I leave you alone then?” You turn quickly to face him, nearly losing the suit jacket draped over your shoulders before you clutch it closer to your body, like it will keep Sanji beside you longer.

“No! No, please stay. I don’t think being alone will fix much either.” You smile up at the chef, who is grinning widely down at you as well. You knew he loved hearing you tell him to stay, telling him that you wanted him around. You have a feeling he likes hearing it even more than you do.

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll let me.” You sigh, settling yourself down onto the deck, laying down with his jacket wrapped around you so you could look up to the sky. Sanji hesitates for a moment, before sitting down beside you, watching you quietly.

He sits with his arms back to brace against the deck, one leg extended, the other bent to point to the stars. You can’t help the small peeking glances you steal from the corner of your eye as you try not to think about how close this was to some of your daydreams. You try, but fail, to ignore the way the silence hangs suspended but soothing around you both, like a warm blanket; the way that you’re so close, you would only have to reach out your hand and you could be touching him, nearly a hand-span away from contact; the way you can see every lock of blond hair falling over his shoulder as he tips his head back to also stare at the stars.

“Like something you see, darling?” You blush, looking away even though you had already been caught. He chuckles softly, looking over at you and smiling. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what kept you up?”

You breathe deeply, debating with yourself for a moment. One the one hand, you trust Sanji. You know he wouldn’t judge you; he had never judged you. He was so kind, always offering you comfort and understanding in all things – never expecting anything but your honesty. You knew he would take anything you had to say to him in stride, never once faltering in his devotion to being caring and compassionate. On the other, you were terrified of what your thoughts might mean. The ways in which your relationship might change if the words were spoken aloud. You never wanted to lose that comfort that Sanji had to offer, and the thought that he might change his view of you scared you. You worried that there would be new expectations, new understandings, new problems to arise with the brief mention of your desire to kiss and hold the blond chef. The last thing you wanted was change. Right?

So why did your mouth open and your tongue begin to form words? Why did you spill out the inner secrets you had kept hidden for weeks after the incident with Nami?

“I just recently have been thinking about what Nami said, about us being a thing. I never really thought of it before she said it – we’re just friends, I like being like that with you, but I don’t see any problem with friends acting the way we do. But at the same time, now that Nami mentioned it, I can’t stop thinking if I might want something more. At night is the worst, when I’m alone after spending all day with you, I just can’t stop my mind from making these new ideas. These new scenarios where I get to hold you, hold your hands, curl up against you,” you hesitate before whispering, “kiss you.” You throw your head back to rest against the deck, staring up at the twinkling night expanse above to avoid the look you know will be gracing Sanji’s face. He’s a flirt through and through, you know that he’s going to love the idea, even if he only ever said he was okay with being friends. He wasn’t going to take this admission without a little outward joy and playful teasing. “And the worst part is I don’t know what I want so I haven’t said anything and just held it all in. Because if I say this and then decide that I don’t really want things to change, then I’ve led you on and that’s wrong. But if I say this and then do something about it, everything will change and I might still lose you. But if I keep it all inside, I won’t lose you – you never have to know and I can pretend like nothing is wrong and I can just keep that all inside. It doesn’t hurt anybody in there. It just takes away a little bit of my sleep, and I’m okay with that as long as I’m still able to have you in my life.”

You roll your head to the side to finally glance at the man who you had just poured your heart out to for what felt like the millionth time since you’ve met him. It was getting easier and easier to share your inner fears and thoughts with him, the more you did it. As though the beginning was a dam cracking, opening up so that the water could seep out and flood through his river, releasing your pressure to share the load with him. It felt nice, you couldn’t lie.

He simply stared at you, an unreadable look on his face before he sighs, nodding, looking down at the deck.

“Okay, darling, that was a lot to process.” You had never seen him so stoic, so calm. Especially after you shared about your feelings, you weren’t used to him not simply bursting into action, face and body nearly splitting open at the sheer excitement at hearing your feelings, about him or otherwise. Usually emotions were Sanji’s forte so you couldn’t figure out why he seemed so withdrawn today.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just dumped that on you. It isn’t fair for me to unburden myself like that on you – you’ve always been there for me and I’m just always so ready to share my thoughts and feelings and I never stopped to think how all this might make you feel. That was so selfish of me, I-”

“Don’t call yourself selfish.” The cold edge to his voice makes you freeze. Where was your flirty, playful Sanji?

“What?” You watch his face carefully, see the way his eyebrows furrow and his mouth dips down in the corners – the closest you’ve ever seen it to a frown. His eyes come up to look at you and there’s a depth there you haven’t seen before. As though all this time, there was a wall hiding his deeper mind away from you.

“Don’t ever call yourself selfish. You went out of your way, worrying about how I would feel or what I would say to your feelings, so much so that you lost sleep over it. You took into consideration everyone else’s thoughts and feelings and ignored how this all hurt you, bothered you. You were willing to let it continue to bother you until I made you say something. You are anything but selfish, and anyone who says otherwise is ignorant. You are the most selfless person I know.” His eyes are hard, as though he’s trying to convince you with his look alone. You nearly crack under his gaze, but you nod anyway, showing you understand what he’s saying.

His shoulders loosen at the sight, his eyes softening to a look of endearment as he looks at you.

“Now, I’ve said this before, but I will continue to say it, however many times it takes for you to believe me. I will be anything you need from me, my love. I can be your friend, your confidante, your lover; anything you want from me. All you have to do is say the word. I won’t leave you, you won’t lose me because of a change in feelings. Unless you tell me to go, I’m here, until the ends of the Earth.” He reaches out a hand, brushing back a piece of hair off your face. “The way I care for you can’t be put into words. You’re a god amongst men, a divine revelation of the true beauty of humanity at its core, you show the warmth of kindness and the darkness of fear and you do it all with the poise and delicacy of a butterfly in flight – you have never been anything less that magical, and to be in your life has been an honor I could never imagine finding anywhere else.”

You swallow against the lump growing in your throat, hoping that the burning in your eyes is because you’re tired and not because you’re about to cry in front of Sanji right now. You’d heard him say things like this before – Sanji was known for his kind words. But for some reason, hearing them now, you wanted to sob in relief. He didn’t have to say those nice words about you; he didn’t even need to care about your stupid feelings and listen to you complain and worry about why you can’t sleep.

Sanji sits up, opening up his arms for you as he whispers, “come here, love” and you can’t stop yourself from dragging your body over to curl into his arms.

Hugging Sanji, or in this case, Sanji hugging you, wasn’t an uncommon occurrence – you both were very affectionate people, so you were never shy about being close with any of the crew before. Yet somehow, this time felt different. His arms pulled you close, squeezing you against him as though he was pressing all your pieces back together, bringing you into his body as a shield where you could become complete again. His hands rested flat against your back, fingertips just digging into the skin as though he was afraid you might be pulled from his grasp if he wasn’t careful.

The scent of Sanji enveloped you; cooking oil, cigarettes, something else just distinctly him. You never could quite place that scent. You breathed it in, closing your eyes to the world as you relax into Sanji’s embrace. He rests his head against the top of yours, his lips pressing against your hair.

“Now, as for your confession.” You take a deep breath, not quite sure where this was going to go. “I don’t think I need to tell you again how dedicated I am to you, sweetheart. I would be honored to love you in any capacity you would like to have me. However, you have to make that decision – I am not going to pressure you any way. You can tell me exactly what you want from me, when you want it from me. You can change your mind at any time, I won’t hold it against you. Ever.” His voice was strong, confident, everything you weren’t feeling right now. You didn’t know how to take his words.

Part of you really wanted to leave things alone, to just stay like this, curled in Sanji’s arms until you slept. That you could stay this way, without anything changing and becoming awkward, was a comforting thought that you wanted to hold onto. However, the more you thought about it, the more you thought that maybe your daydreams and sleepless nights were telling you something. If this was causing you so much distress, maybe it was because part of you really wanted those things to happen. Maybe it couldn’t hurt to test out these new feelings and desires, especially if Sanji was the one saying that he would be willing to accept your changing mind if things don’t go well.

You lift your head, pulling back slightly from Sanji’s embrace. His arms loosen around you, allowing you to back up enough to look up at him; his hands still hold onto your sides as though he isn’t quite ready to let you out of his hold.

“If I asked to try… this,” you say, watching his face closely, the way his eyes shine in the moonlight. “But then I changed my mind and wanted to go back to being friends…”

“You need only say the word, love, and I would give you anything you wanted. Your wish is my command.” He smiles that stupid flirty smile that you know he’s flashed at a million women through his time working at the Baratie, and yet you couldn’t help the flare of warmth that shoots through your body.

“Fuck it.” You whisper, reaching up to grab his face. Your hands slide over his jaw, cupping his cheeks to pull him down to meet your lips with his own.

You had thought about kissing Sanji for a while now; what it would be like to have his lips against yours, what he would taste like, how his lips, his tongue, his teeth would feel against you. And yet all your daydreaming hadn’t prepared you for truly living it. You had a pretty good imagination, so it wasn’t like you hadn’t imagined how amazing it felt for him to press his lips against yours, pulling back a little between each kiss and feeling his warm breath against your face. But feeling him against you, feeling his hand slide up from your waist to thread through your hair, gripping softly when you nip at his lip – that was something else entirely. The way it lit your body on fire was hard to ignore.

When you pull back from the kiss, breathing deeply as you continue to cup his face, you met his eyes in the dim light, close enough to feel his breath fan your face with every pant he lets out. Your heart tightens as you look at him, feel the warmth of his body pressing against you, debating going in for another kiss.

“Is it okay if I kiss you again?” You whisper, afraid of breaking the moment you felt encapsulated in. It felt as though the world stopped turning, the wind stopped blowing, time stopped ticking as you glued yourself against Sanji’s body.

Sanji simply smiled and leaned back in, pulling you in by the back of the neck to capture your lips again. Your body arches up to meet your bodies together, needing to be closer to him. His hand that isn’t tangled in your hair slides to the small of your back, tightening to help you arch against him further, as though he wants to pull you into his body, make you one with him in the same way you want to curl into his body yourself.

You couldn’t deny it any longer, being with Sanji was too good not to want to be with him forever. You still felt a little fear – you never knew a day without some concern of how life would play out for you, how others would react to everything you do. However, feeling Sanji’s arms around you, being this close to Sanji, you loved him enough to overlook that fear for a little while. You didn’t think you needed him this way so badly – kissing him, holding him, loving him – but now that you’ve had a taste, you didn’t think you could go a day without having him this way. Your dreams hadn’t prepared you for the incessant need that began to grow in your bones.

“You can kiss me whenever you desire, my love. I will be waiting for the chance to hold you like this again, every day until I die.” Sanji’s kind words were drowned out by the pounding in your chest at the thought that he felt the same way you did.

Yeah, you could see yourself spending hours with him like this. Maybe daydreaming wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

#sanji imagine #sanji #sanji angst #sanji fluff #opla imagine #one piece imagine #one piece #opla #sanji opla #sanji one piece #sanji x reader #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #one piece angst #imagine

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thebestofoneshots · 29 days ago

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7 K Warnings: none. Prompt: Why is it that potions is always so problematic? 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. Not proofread

Chapter 66: Hot Love

“Well, I certainly know who my partner will be thinking of,” Sirius said maliciously towards Severus, once he overheard the conversation you were having with Slughorn.

“Yeah, well, I know exactly who you’ll be thinking of as well,” the other boy retorted viciously. “And it won’t be your stupid little girlfriend, will it?”

Sirius seemed taken aback by his comment. Then he remembered what Severus had seen in the bathroom. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

Severus tilted his head. “Mine? I’m not the one placing it on other lips. On men’s lips.”

“Severus,” Sirius warned as he turned to him. The greasy-haired boy was speaking louder than normal on purpose. Thankfully, behind the two was only James and Lily, no longer Peter and his partner since they had reassigned seats.

“What?” Severus tilted his head. “You scared your little girlfriend might hear?” he added with a snide smirk. “What would you do if I told her?”

“How about you mind your own fucking business?”

“Touched a nerve?” he asked as he titled his head. “Hope I did. Because if you don’t do exactly what I fucking tell you to do for the rest of potions, then I will make fucking sure she figures out, and it won’t be in a kind way.”

“What you think you saw–”

“Don’t even fucking bother to make excuses,” he added. “Is that the real reason they kicked you out of the family? Was Potter perhaps your first lover?”

Sirius' eyes were icy as he stared at Severus, his teeth clashing against each other so tight that they almost hurt. The idea that he might have been cast out for liking men was both disheartening and enraging. Not because he hated that he had been cast out but because he knew it would have been a perfect excuse for his parents. Their heir being a fag? Could not possibly live with that!

In a way, he loved that he’d found yet another way to infuriate his mother, but there was still that strong pang in his heart that made him hate himself for having allowed Severus, of all people, to see how he was vulnerable.

Not that he cared about being outed or about Severs telling you anything, you already knew. But he knew Moony didn’t want the world to know, and he knew you weren’t in love with the idea either. His weakness didn’t lay on him, let alone his own feelings, but in yours and Remus’, and it made it all the more discouraging, especially when he had betrayed your feelings more than once in the past.

“Count the rose petals shreds, would you? We need one hundred and seventy-three,” Severus commanded.

Sirius breathed out, closed his eyes and bit the bullet. He pulled them out of the jar and laid them on the table before he started counting. We have to do something about him, he thought as he let out a quiet sigh. Severus was clearly enjoying Sirius’ submissiveness, already imagining all the things he’d force Sirius to do with his newfound influence. Although, even then, he wouldn’t drag it on too much.

He hated Sirius, but there was something more he wanted. He wanted you to feel as bad as he had felt when he saw Lily and James together. He thought it was your fault they started dating, and you became the cause of this and all of his misfortunes. You, Sirius, James and perhaps the stupid werewolf as well. He’d disliked their little group for years, but he never expected Evans to actually fall for James, and it happened just as you joined the school. In his mind, there was no way around it, it was your fault he suffered a heartache, and he would make you miserable in retaliation.

And while Sirius, feeling miserable, counted the petals, you and Remus were happily measuring your ingredients. “Rosebud petals?” you asked as you revised the small list you’d jotted down in your notebook.

According to Slughorn, book versions of amorentia often left one or two ingredients out since they did not want students to fully recreate such a powerful potion. But he thought that you should be taught the real potion if any of you actually aspired to become a potioneer. He had a special, annotated book, and he had dictated the ingredients from his own ‘Tried and True’ version.

“Ready,” Remus answered as he checked the ingredients on the pile you had made on the side.

“300 grams of Ashwinder Eggs?” You asked and he nodded. “Moon pearl dust?”

“That was two teaspoons, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and ticked the little box next to the ingredient. “Honey Water infused with a drop of mint extract?”

“It’s here,” he said as he lifted a small beaker with the right amount of it. Honey water was of a very light, slightly luminescent amber tone, made of 4 parts magically distilled water and 1 part honeyblitz luminhoney. You had been taught how to extract luminhoney once in your older school, and while you’d managed to get out of it unscratched, others weren’t quite so lucky. Honeyblitz Bees were rather feisty, and they didn’t like people digging around their honeycomb. Thankfully, Hogwarts had a rather large stash of luminhoney, so you didn’t have to worry too much about harvesting.

The beaker Remus held in his hand, however, was of a light purplish tone, changed by the drop of mint flower extract.

You nodded and looked back at your list “Niffler’s Fancy?“

“5 dried leaves crushed in a mortar,” he responded.

“But we added half a leave to make up for what sticks on the sides, yeah?”

Remus smiled as he heard you and nodded, that had been something he had taught you near the start of the year. It was better to add a little bit more of those ingredients that had to be crushed to dust and squeezed. “And about half a knut of root for potency,” he reassured.

“Not on the list, I think it’s a brilliant idea,” you responded as you added it to your notes. Potions were no place for heedless improvisation, most required exact ingredients since it was the only way to guarantee that the potion would come out all right; a little bit of the wrong ingredient and you could poison the drinker. But a potioneer with knowledge of the ingredients and their properties –a good potioneer– could add or subtract small bits of certain ingredients to alter their potion’s results.

When you and Remus got “Outstanding” on your veritaserum, you had actually decided to add an extra Jobberknoll Feather since the ones you got had been rather small. Jobberknol feathers helped both with the potion’s potency and with the durability of its effect. Your potion, according to Slugnorn, had been the longest-lasting, which accounted for an excellent success. You had thought Severus’ face had been hilarious when Slughorn said that and praised your team in front of the entire class.

“7 puffapods?” you asked after you finished scribbling.

“Yeah, we took an extra bean, in case they’re not ripe yet.”

“We’re not missing anything besides that, are we?”

“The moonstone extract,” he said as he checked his notes. “Did you write that one down?”

“Oh no, I was gonna add it in the end but completely forgot,” you said as you did. “How much of that was it?”

“Few drops,” he said with a frown. “Until the potion reaches a Pygmy Puff pink.”

“That’s too broad,” you said with a shrug.

“I thought so, too,” he responded. “I asked Slughorn if there was anything on Flamel’s Potion Hue Scale, and he said to go for FPHS-P63”.

You leaned down and pulled a small booklet, about the size of a chocolate bar, from your bag. At the top, it said FPHS in big letters, and on the inside, it was filled with different colours and their names, almost like a paint sampler. The one you had, had cost a small fortune, but your mother, who had been quite good at potions herself, insisted on getting the complete version instead of the Student one. Remus and you had used it plenty of times, and it had never failed you. Even back when you made polyjuice, getting the right shade of brown (apparently FPHS-B12) had been thanks to the hue scale.

You placed the booklet on the table next to the ingredients. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded with a smile.

“At least it won’t take us days to brew this one,” you said as you pulled the cauldron out and placed it over the burner –still off, you didn’t need to heat this potion yet.

“We have the thermometer?”

“They’re all taken, I was thinking of borrowing one when we need it,” he said and then checked your notes. “Did you pick up some Scourgify Essence by any chance?”

“Oh yeah, it said the cauldron had to be extremely clean…” you said as you picked the small flask out of your pocket and handed it over to him.

He carefully picked out a pipet full of it and dropped the liquid onto the cauldron. He then swivelled the liquid inside of it and placed it back on the stand before he took his wand out and whispered, “Scourgify.” The liquid made a light sizzling sound, as if burning, and created a small stream of yellow smoke with a smell oddly reminiscent of marigolds.

“From the calming drought?”

He sniffed, “Definitely,” he agreed. “One more time?”

“To make sure,” you nodded as you added another pipet of the concentrate to the cauldron, this time, you performed the spell. The fizzing sound was a little louder, and the smoke was first green and then white.

“Green was from polyjuice,” he said as he scrunched his nose to the side, the smallest expression of disgust.

“Imagine how it tasted,” you said. Although you hadn’t smelled anything at all, you’d seen the colour, and you knew Remus had a far better sense of smell.

“And you did it for the sake of James’ date.”

“Well, they’re a thing now, aren’t they?” you said with a smile and a small tilt of your head. “When we’re all old, I’ll be able to remind James of the time I sacrificed my sanity and cleaned the men’s loos for the sake of his relationship.”

“Oh, and you’ll probably remind Lily and their children about it all the time. I can already imagine a senile version of you saying something along the lines of ‘You know, you owe your existence to my sacrifice’”

“I won’t be senile! Old yes, but…”

“We’re all gonna be senile one day,” he said with a smile. “I don’t mind it, though. I won’t mind going insane if it’s beside you.”

He’d said it so casually, as he poured some of the honey water into the cauldron, that he didn’t even notice how you had almost choked on your own spit at his words. And there he was, gently stirring the liquid inside the caldron as you stared at him. He’s right. Perhaps being senile won’t be as bad if I’m with the two of them.

“Little Witch?” he asked, for the third time, now he was looking at you. “What were you thinking about?”

“Bubbles,” you said before he had time to tease you about it, and then grabbed the rose petals and dropped them onto the mortar.

“Bubbles?”

“Slughorn said we need to stir lightly, to avoid bubbles,” you repeated, almost mechanically, as you furiously crushed the rose petals in the mortar, your hand was fast and hard onto the surface, a red paste.

“Intention,” he said with a teasing smile. “Don’t forget your intention.”

You looked up at him and narrowed your eyes. He had a know-it-all smile that would have been infuriating had he not looked so handsome. “Worry not, I’m definitely thinking of it,” you said as you crushed the petals a little harder. It was now a rather thick paste. You tried not to think much about growing old with the boys as you looked at the mortar. “Does it say anything about straining?” you asked.

“Book says it’s recommended, Slughorn didn’t say anything,” he said as he turned to his notes, comparing them with the book’s recipe.

“It’s kind of lumpy,” you said as you put a little bit more force on the mortar.

“Let me try,” he said as he carefully enveloped your hands with his and replaced their spot on the mortar. One arm tangled with yours as he gently pressed the pestle into the mortar. The paste was made only a little lighter, but it was still quite thick, even after being subjected to his werewolf strength. “Perhaps we should strain it. I’ve never seen a lumpy amortentia…”

“Me neither,” you said as you grabbed a small ladle and poured two spoonfuls of the potion onto the mortar, he mixed the paste, now much more watery. “Another one?”

“No, I think that’s enough,“ he retorted as he continued grinding. You were both unnecessarily close to one another. Even more, than you normally were, but it seemed natural for your arms to be entangled with one another, for the side of his chest to be so close that you could tell when he was exhaling and inhaling, as if it was meant to be. As if it had always been meant to be, only you hadn’t quite realised it.

You grabbed a small straining cloth and placed it on top of the cauldron, stretching it just enough for him to pour the petal paste –now more like petal water- onto it. Most of it went through pretty smoothly, near the end, though he used the same ladle to push the paste towards the straining cloth, squeezing out as much of the liquid still in them as possible.

When he was done, you pulled the cloth, bunched it up, and pressed your hands on the small lump at the bottom to squeeze out any remaining liquid.

“Should be enough, right?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, revising the colour of the potion and comparing it to his notes. “Does it look peachy to you?”

“Book says it should be FPHS-RY2, right?” you said as you took the Hue Scale booklet and looked for the colour. He hummed in response and leaned even closer to you, looking over your shoulder as you placed the small shit of paper next to the cauldron.

“We need better light,” he said as he pulled out his wand with an unspoken lumos charm. “It’s a little transparent, but I think it’s the right shade.”

You looked up at him; he was attentively looking at the chart, his brows slightly knotted from the attentive way he was looking at the colours. You smiled and bit your lip as you looked at him. Perhaps if you weren’t in such a public place, you would have stolen a kiss from him.

“We need to add the puffapods next,” he said as he picked up the purplish leaves that contained them. “We need to use a dissolving spell once they’re inside.”

You nodded, taking the leaves in your hand and using a knife to open it. Puffapods were these gooey, light purple balls that smelled rather disagreeably –at least to you– and apparently to Remus as well if the way he pulled back from your side was anything to go by. In potions, it was almost always you who took on the tasks of preparing the stronger-smelling ingredients. It’d started after you figured out he was a werewolf, and he didn’t notice you’d been doing it until after he knew about your discovery. He had been so thankful, he made sure to always carry chocolate around with him during potions to give you some after class.

You used the knife to place the puffapods onto the cauldron and wiped your hands with a rag since some of the mucus had spread out onto your hands. “I think I’ll wash my hands instead,” you said as the smell didn’t subside.

“I’ll work on the dissolving spell while you’re at it,” he said with a simple nod and you walked towards the end of the classroom where the faucets were. By the time you walked back, Remus was already working on cracking the ahwinder eggs. The liquid inside them was a pinkish and gooey slime, with no smell to it, but when they crashed onto the rest of the potion, the smell of puffapods was swallowed completely, leaving an oddly pleasant smell of something earthy, almost like wet grass or mint.

Remus seemed to notice the change as well. “Mint?” he asked.

“And something leathery, I think…” you said. He nodded in agreement. The smell of your potion had been so strong that apparently even Tom, on the table behind you also noticed it.

“Does anybody else smell something like sandalwood and lavender cologne?”

“No,” said Beth as she shrugged. “It does kind of smell kind of citrusy thought.”

“Concentrate on your brews,” Slughorn said to no one in particular, although he had a faint smile on his face as if he too had smelled something pleasant.

“Did we bring the distiller?”

“Yeah,” he said as he pulled the crystal vases and started accommodating them all, lighting the burner with a small incendio, as you busied yourself with cutting up the niffler’s fancy leaves. It was quite common for you and Remus to work like that. Almost as if you could read each other’s minds. With a set of instructions, the two of you could go step by step almost without saying a word, just knowing exactly what the other would do with the ingredients they took in their hands.

By the time he was done accommodating, you’d already chopped all the leaves and placed them in a beaker with exactly 9 oz of Potioneer Water for distilling magical ingredients and a knut of root. He tilted the end of the flask, and you poured it onto the blown glass opening. The mixture started bubbling, and the smaller flask on the other side of the pipets started slowly being filled with drops of lightly blue-tinted water.

Remus checked his watch. “I think we can start boiling the potion,” he said as he handed over the burner, and you accommodated it under the cauldron. “Low, green fire,” he said.

“Right,” you said as you filled the small of the glass bottle with dragon’s breath alcohol and sprinkled it with verdant ember dust.

“You’ll need this one too,” Remus said as he handed over an emerald wick, while it wasn’t strictly necessary to use one –they were more expensive than normal wicks– they did help with purer fire, and Slughorn allowed students to use them in some of the more complicated potions.

“Brilliant,” you said as you accommodated the three wicks and tightened the top of the burner. You placed it underneath the cauldron and turned the fire on with your wand, rolling the small knob at the top to lower the intensity of the fire. The diopside flames crashed against the cast iron of the cauldron. “Temperature should stay under 65 °C,” you said as you checked your notes.

Rem turned around, looking towards Beth and Tom. They seemed to be doing fine, although their potion was a little lumpy, they could always strain it in the end. “Do you guys have a thermometer?”

“Yeah,” Tom said as he handed it over. They were still trying to peel the puffapods, one of them had blown up on Beth’s hand, and they were both busy trying to clean off the slime off their table. “Scourgify,” Remus said. The mucus disappeared from their table and from Beth’s robes.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile as she looked up at him. Then she turned to look at Tom and handed him the pod leaf. “You try now.”

“No problem,” Rem said and turned back towards your potion, carefully securing the thermometer onto the side of the cauldron, and allowing only the very tip to touch the potion. You had already pulled out a special crystal spoon that was meant for mixing delicate potions. “It’s three clockwise and six counters every 5 minutes, right?”

“Yup,” you said as you pulled out the spoon, allowed it to drip and, with a gentle wave of your hand, caused the hourglass at the end of the table to turn around.

While the time passed, both you and Remus compared your notes, scribbled so fast after Slughorn dictation that some words were almost intelligible, but in between the two of you, you’d managed to get a very complete recipe, annotating all the changes, and moving the recipe to the compendium you had both created for the class.

At the beginning of the year, Slughorn had suggested you start your own potion book. With whatever alterations you made, or got recommended by him, and a detailed memoir of your experience making each potion. You had both decided to add the memoir as a separately attached parchment and use the notebook as your personal recipe book. The sections on polyjuice, Veritaserum and Draught of Living Dеath were the longest and most detailed, since you had made a few modifications to them, and they were also the ones both you and Remus thought could be useful later. The plan was to use Gemino by the time it was ready so you both could keep your own copy.

“We strained before adding the rose petals, instead of in the end, yeah?”

He hummed in return and pointed at the straining cloth you’d used. “I think you used acromantula silk for that.”

“Yeah, the finest available,” you said as you added that as a footnote.

Then, there was a soft chime from the end of the table. “I’ll do the mixing,” Remus said softly as you looked towards the cauldron. “Focus on getting that thought down,” he added as he walked behind you and placed a hand on the back of your neck. He picked the spoon from the plate you’d left it on and dipped it into the potion, gently making the necessary turns and eyeing you as you wrote down some details of the peeling and adding of the puffapods. He smiled as he saw you gently biting your lower lip in concentration. He thought you looked absolutely adorable.

“I think I’m gonna add an extra clockwise stir.”

“Okay,” you said as you scribbled that on the side of your parchment. Remus was brilliant at calculating the mixing process, so you never questioned his judgement regarding extra stirs.

When he was done, you waved your hand again, restarting the clock and then focusing on the small drawing of the puffapods you’d decided to add to the side of the ingredients list.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you look when you’re writing things down,” he said with a smile as he leaned a little closer to you. Taking a pencil from the end of the table as an excuse for leaning against you.

You could feel your cheeks heating up from how close he was and how terribly delightful he smelled. Or perhaps it was the entire classroom that smelled nice? No, that’s not it, you thought. There was still some of that Puffapod smell coming from somewhere near the back. Even then, his smell, or the smell around you at least, seemed to overpower your senses. The temptation to turn around and kiss him was almost too strong to resist. But you somehow managed to force your eyes back onto the paper.

“Don’t be such a tease,” you murmured.

“It’s not teasing,” he insisted, drawing just a little closer. “It’s true.”

You had to bite your cheeks not to let out a strangled sound. His presence was overwhelming to you at that moment. And you didn’t want to fight it, you wanted only to give in.

“Keep in mind the sole smell of amorentia can cause havoc,” Slughorn said. “Be careful as you smell it, and remember that perhaps your thoughts are being affected by the brewing. Especially during the infusion period.”

Remus turned to Slughorn and upon realising just how close he’d gotten to you, practically pressing his chest onto your back. He pulled back almost in an instant, taking a pencil with him and clearing his throat. “That’s the thing you needed?” he asked as he left an eraser on your notebook.

You knew he was only covering for his overly affectionate moment seconds ago, but you nodded. “Yeah,” you said. “Thanks, Luv.”

He threw you a reproachful look since you rarely used that nickname with him. You simply smiled and sent a short wink his way. Then you turned towards the destination area you’d set up earlier. “I think it’s done,” you said. There was 3 oz of blueish liquid on the small crystal tube. “It’s probably very concentrated.”

“Yeah,” Remus said as he turned off the fire on that burner and used his want to float the tube towards his face. The smell emanating from it was earthy and fresh, exactly like distilled niffler’s fancy should smell like.

When the hourglass chimed again, he poured the liquid onto the potion and turned the fire off. The potion was now of a light lilac colour, thick slow bubbles seemed to start at the very top and face towards the bottom of the cauldron, the smell much more powerful now. There was a small hint of chocolate on it now too. At least for you, for Remus, it smelled a little like the perfume you’d worn to the slugparty.

“Is that meant to happen?” you asked.

“Yeah, it’s actually a good sign,” he said as he took the crystal spoon and started stirring. “It’s four and then the pearl dust,” he said.

“Ready,” you said as you took the small recipient with the premeasured shimmery dust.

He turned his hands counterclockwise four times, and you started throwing the dust on the cauldron, gently tapping on the sides of the crystal recipient to make sure all of it fell where it was meant to. After three more stirs, the smell had become even more potent than before. Some students from the back of the class were even peeking through their own cauldrons, trying to figure out where the nice scents were coming from.

“And now it’s the last ingredient,” he said as he pulled out the small dropper with the moonstone extract. Meanwhile, you took the FPHS and looked for the P63. You lit your wand up next to the potion, which was a silvery lilac colour and had a shimmering-like effect –caused by the pearl dust.

He poured one drop, and the colour changed, becoming a little more warm. Rem added three more drops, and it already looked pink, just a very pale, almost rose-petal pink, not quite P63. He added two more drops, and the colour was already much closer to a match. Not to mention the smell of the potion had become even stronger, almost intoxicating from how much it drew you in, and towards each other. Even Sirius, who had been impossibly annoyed by Severus throughout his entire class, had turned around and started staring at the two of you working on the last steps of your potion. The smell drawing you and Remus in, seeming to work just the same on him.

“One or two more?” Remus asked.

You frowned and bit your lip, looking at the colour it was and thinking of the one you wanted to achieve. All the while also thinking of both Remus and Sirius and how potent the smell of them on the potion was by now. “Two,” you said confidently.

He poured two more drops and the potion finally matched P63, the smell became so strong for a moment that it flooded the entire classroom, everyone seemed to turn to look towards your table and you heard Severus curse under his breath. You wonder if his potion smelled like the Rosehoney of Lily’s perfume, or if perhaps it was the tropical smell of her muggle coconut shampoo she loved so much that he was perceiving.

Slughorn walked towards your table, the smell was still strong, but he had used a spell to dissipate some of the smell outside of the classroom through the ventilator tubes on the sides of the walls.

“It seems we have the first finished potion,” he said as he approached. “And the scent is quite strong, too. Perhaps some of the strongest amorentia I’ve smelled.”

“Thank you, Professor,” both you and Remus said at the same time.

“Nothing to thank for,” he retorted with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Now, tell me, what do you smell?”

You cleared your throat. “There’s a minty leathery smell, perhaps with some undertones of pine trees and fresh morning air,” you said.

“And the next scent?”

“Books,” you said, “and um… something sweet,” you didn’t want to say it was chocolate in case someone was listening in to the conversation.

“The last one?”

“It’s the smell of a forest at night,” you said. “Damp earth and moss, wild herbs, evergreen and dew. I also detect a bit of–” you stopped yourself. “Never mind, I don’t know what it is.”

Slughorn looked at you with a bit of a suspicious air, but Remus was the one who had to bite his lips in order to stop a smile from spreading. He had a faint idea of what you might be smelling since he too had gotten that.

“And you, Mr. Lupin?”

“Books too,” he said. “A perfume, don’t know what it’s made of, and something musky and earthy.”

Slughorn nodded thoughtfully as if he was considering the smells. “And?”

“Ugh, I’m not sure what that is,” he lied. It was the same leathery scent you had smelled, except for him it smelled more of Sirius’ fancy citric soap –even after he got kicked out of his house, he still bought the same elegant soap, and whenever he left the bathroom the entire place was imprinted with that smell. That smell had not only imprinted itself on the bathroom but also on Remus’ mind. The things he had imagined weren’t something he had been proud of after he’d emptied himself out in the shower. “Perhaps some kind of soap,” he added in the end.

“And the last smell?”

“Can’t tell,” he lied again. It was the smell of his coat that night at the Potters. You and Sirius. As unmistakable as the sun, and as obvious as the Moon or the brightest star in the night’s sky.

“Perhaps if you lean a little closer?” Slughorn said as he tilted his head.

“I mean, I definitely smell something,” Remus corrected. “I just don’t know what the scent is.”

“Well, that’s rather interesting,” he said with a smile. You sensed he was about to ask something else. And you knew the tight spot Rem was in, so you decided to intervene.

“What do you smell, Professor?”

“What do I–” he asked, almost puzzled. “Well, I…”

Got him, you thought as you saw his nervousness. “I mean not to pride, Professor. I just wanted to know if our potion was successful.”

“Oh yes, excellently so,” he nodded as he composed himself. ”I smell flowers, evening flowers to be precise. A gardenia, evening primrose and Abyssinian gladiolus,” he explained. “I think there’s some serpent musk and I believe that’s the very particular smell of giant squid ink and old books.”

“Do you also feel a third smell?” you asked. The more he lost himself in his own thoughts, the further he’d be from asking Remus something else. Rem threw an almost nervous look your way and reached for your hand from under the table, you squeezed his reassuringly, not taking your gaze away from Slughorn.

Slughorn hesitated, only now realising how intrusive he might have seemed as he asked you and Remus to describe the scents you perceived in the potion. “Yes,” he said. The smell was quite strong and clear for him. “Cold and crisp air. The kind of scent you get from standing on a cliff.” And there was also something of that coppery scent that dark magic carried mixed into it, but as you and Remus had done earlier, he decided not to elaborate further on the thing he smelled.

“Oh,” you said as you leaned towards the potion again. “Should we bottle this then?”

“Please,” he said with a smile. “There are some clean bottles on my table. You may pick whichever you like,” he added before he walked towards a different table.

“What was the thing you didn’t mention?” Remus asked as he leaned a little closer to you.

“Canine scent,” you said with a smile. “Moony and Pads. You?”

“Your perfume,” he admitted. “And…” There was a hesitation there, an almost imperceptible gulp before he was brave enough to speak it aloud. “My coat.”

“Your coat?” you asked confused, and then it dawned on you. “By Merlin. Your coat!”

“And Sirius’ soap.”

“The one that smells kind of like tangerine and sandalwood?” He nodded. You hummed shortly in response. “I’ll get a bottle,” you said as you walked towards Slughorn’s desk.

The assortment of bottles there was huge. From small bottles that could only be used to hold extremely powerful –or explosive-prone– potions, to the larger flask that would normally be used for potions with a longer shelf life or that were used quite frequently (like Pomfrey’s Skellegro). You sorted through the bottles and grabbed a medium-sized one. About the size of a flattened apple, and with quite a similar shape as well. It was quite heart-shaped, but it was quilted, hobnailed, or something in between, and it had the slightest pinkish hue that you thought could perhaps enhance the shimmering P63 of your potion.

It’s not that you cared so much about the presentation, but you knew Slughorn did, he had an eye for beautiful things. The way he stored his own potions was indicative enough, besides, every time he was giving a beautiful-looking potion, whoever had given it got either praise for it or a better grade. So once you’d chosen what you thought would be the right bottle, you moved over to find a cork that would fit.

While you were walking back to your table you heard an explosion coming from a cauldron near the back. “Mr. Prewet, how on earth did you manage to blow something up in a potion with no explosive ingredients?”

“I think I confused purple explosivepods with puffapods,” he said as he looked at the small gooey –much brighter– leaf in his hand… Sorry.”

Slughorn sighted and quickly vanished all the ingredients from his table with a simple “evaneso.” Then he looked at the boy rather sternly. “You and your partner will write an essay on everything that went wrong in your potion to pass the assignment.”

“Can’t I do that too?” someone asked. It was Janice, one of Beth’s roommates.

“No, Miss Stevenson. You must finish your potion.”

“But it’s blue!” She complained as she stared at her cauldron. “It’s meant to be pink!”

“Did you distil the niffler’s fancy leaves?” You asked.

“Distil?” she asked as she stared back at her book. “It’s not on the instructions.”

“No,” Slughorn said. “But I mentioned it was much better to distil it, since sometimes niffler’s fancy leaves are inconsistent in concentrations.”

“You did?” she asked with a frown to which Slughotn nodded.

You gave her an apologetic smile and a shrug. “You could try adding a little bit more honeywater to even things out, but you’ll have to improvise with the stirring…”

Remus, who was writing some stuff down on his parchment, turned to look at her as well. “I think you’d need 4 extra turns to the right and one to the left for it to work.”

“It’s five to the right,” Severus said with an eye roll. “Or 6, depending on how much honey water they add.”

Remus looked back at his notes with a small frown, scribbling something before scoffing. “Snape is right, 6 to be certain.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said with a smile, looking both at you and Remus and then a much shyer, almost scared look towards Severus. “And you,” she added much more quietly.

“I was just correcting Lupin, I don’t care about your potion,” he retorted and went back to his cauldron.

She just swallowed and walked towards the ingredient cabinet to get the stuff she would need to, hopefully, fix her mess.

You walked back towards Rem with the flask, he’d already picked out the crystal funnel, and you accommodated onto the opening of the flask while he used the ladle to slowly fill up the bottle. Once the bottle was filled, there was still about half as much potion left inside the cauldron.

Normally whatever was left over (unbottled) became “Caput Mortuum” as Slughorn liked to call it, and he threw it down the drain. But before you had time to pick up the cauldron, Slughorn was back at your table. “Finished?”

“Almost,” you said as you removed the funnel and passed the cork to Remus who had already picked out the label you’d be adding.

“Excellent,” he said and moved his wand on top of your cauldron. “Potio Evanesco,” he said. The potion spiralled down until it completely disappeared. “Last time a strong potion like this one was poured down the drain, the school had quite a wild week,” he explained. “You may leave after your clean-up,” he said after revising his watch.”

“Thank you,” Remus replied. Since the cauldron was already clean, you limited yourselves to just taking the leftover ingredient flasks and placing them back in their respective cabinets.

As you were walking back to your place to pick your bag up, you decided to pay a small visit to Sirius, who looked absolutely miserable as he was writing some things down.

“How’s the potion?” you asked him.

“Not sure,” he admitted. “I’ve only weighed the ingredients three times each.”

You frowned and turned to look at Severus who looked uncomfortable by how close you were standing to Sirius. “Do you really think three times is absolutely necessary?”

“Worry about your own brews,” he retorted without looking at you. Not that he was doing anything important. Just looking at his hourglass.

“Has he been like that all class?” Sirius nodded. “I’m sorry for you,” you told Severus.

“I’m the one that’s sorry for you,” retorted Severus as he finally turned to you.

“Beg your pardon?”

He stared daggers at you for a second and opened his mouth as if he were about to say something and then stopped himself. If he was going to make you suffer, he was going to drag it on and end with a bang. Not here where Sirius could just tell you Severus had made it all up, and since you were so enamoured by him, you’d probably gobble all his lies. “Nothing,” he said haughtily. “You’re distracting my partner, please leave.”

“But he wasn’t doing anything.”

“He’s writing the log.”

“And what is he going to write now? Severus looks at the hourglass while we wait for another 5 minutes? Severus looks at the hourglass while we wait another 4 minutes? Don’t be ridiculous!”

“You are exhausting my patience, girl.”

“And you’re exhausting mine,” you retorted. “If you treat people like shit all the time, then it makes sense nobody likes you. Heck even the portraits–”

“The portraits? How do you even–” There was a second of silence before he looked back at you, with even more hatred than before. “It was you!”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you retorted calmly. “I’m just saying I heard the portraits talk shit behind your back.” And after that, you added. “Severus Snail.”

Severus stood up from his seat. “You don’t want to continue messing with me.”

“You’re the one behaving like a child,” you retorted just as aggressively.

“At least I didn’t get my friend and my mother kiIIed.” You were instantly taken aback by his words. Frozen in place as they sank in. When he knew he’d gotten his hand on a fresh wound, he decided to press even harder. “And that’s not even the only thing that’s breaking apart in your perfect little life, is it? What will you do when–”

“That’s enough,” Sirius said as he stood in the middle.

“No, no,” Severus said as he placed his hand on Sirius’ shoulder and gently placed him back on his seat. “You sit down if you don’t want me to go running my mouth about you-know-what.”

Sirius gave you a worried look, and it was your short nod that got him to yield. Severus smiled, clearly pleased about being the one with the power in the situation. “At least I have friends, when was the last time you talked to her?”

Yeah, he might have known where to hurt you, but you also knew how to get back at him. “I have friends!”

“Severus Snape has no friends,” you said, voice low. “Even the house elves whisper about it.”

“I’ll make your life bloody miserable. Shatter your little dream house.”

“You’re welcome to try!”

“Is everything all right?” Slughorn asked as he leaned closer to the three of you.

“Just came to ask Sirius about some homework we’re working on,” you said as you patted your boyfriend on the back. “Good luck on your potion boys!”

Remus had been looking at the whole confrontation from his spot, ready to jump in if it ever got to it. And when you walked back towards him, he’d already finished packing most of his, and your things.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied. The pang of your heart caused by Severus’ nasty words still echoing in your head. “Let’s get out of here,” you added as you slung your bag around your shoulder.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Since we're getting close to the end, I'm planning to do a reread (10-15 chaps left) + heavy revision once we're done (still a few months from there but it's probably going to be done sometime this year) because I want to make my own printed version of it (probably on Lulu), and perhaps a cute epub file? It will probably contain pictures, fan art, and other bonus material. Either way, if you want to collaborate, either in the revision or in bonus content, please don't hesitate to hit me up.

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