#or why their head is so big. so much knowledge in there

[dcxdpdabbles]

I love love all your writings!!

I like your depictions of John Constantine.

I'd like to see you write the sad trenchcoat persona as just that a persona in the same fashion as how Brucie Wayne is a persona.

Maybe he's been the de-aged Danny/Dannies father for years and is an actual functional adult. The sad trenchcoat is just used to keep people from calling on him to frequently because he's a dad and has dad-like things to do.

He could help tim with the time stream thing, like 'oh, yeah that does look like Bruce. Alright kid pack a bag we're going in the time stream I know a guy. No Nightwing I'm not joking this looks like solid proof'.

Maybe Bruce has a oh shit he's actually competent and could kill me, that's hot moment. (Kids I have found your other father, help me get him home)

"I would love to offer more of my time to waste on monitor duty, but I have a previous engagement. A particular fit lady needs help getting her dress on the floor. The cloth always gets stuck on her horns. " John leers, wagging his eyebrows at the grimaces his words cause.

He takes a puff of his cigarette, inhaling the smoke like a drowning man. He never smokes at home, not with Danny's sensitive lungs or Dani's general disgust at smoking, so he only had the chance when called away on missions.

Plus, Danny was trying out for ballet soon, and he wasn't going to ruin his son's chances of being a star because of his own poor habits.

It helped that the rest of the heroes believed he was consistently pumping nicotine into his system. Rather irresponsible for the hero to publicly commit frowned-upon activities - at least in the States. Back home, no one cared that much.

It didn't matter that the Justice League was a global team; the main hard hitters and founders were nearly all American, and they tended to uphold those social expectations, either subconsciously or not.

One more reason why they shouldn't bother John, he can't have him smoking at a big awards ceremony or seen going through an entire pack of cigarettes mid-fight. Oh no.

John Constantine was one of the best magic users of this universe, but he was a last resort. There were plenty of other magic users like Zatanna, Dr. Fate, Zatara, or even Etrigan that came to mind first.

John was likely too busy drowning his misery in bottles or the arms of any willing partner. That's what they all thought.

Or more importantly than what he wanted them to think.

"Well, this has been a time." He announces, snapping his fingers to open a portal to his house. "But I have to run. My lady needs a knowledgeable hand to help her-"

"Enough," Batman growls. Though he has complete control over his emotions, John can tell he's irritated by the meaningless detail. He smirks as the hero waves a hand, "Just go."

He offers the rest of the meeting room a cheeky two-finger salute as he struts out, letting the portal close behind him so his trench coat flares dramatically. It's a nice view, he's sure, but it's also unnecessarily showy, and he is sure at least three pairs of eyes are rolling at his exit.

A chuckle escapes his mouth, straightening from his slouch to properly stand straight and bend it far enough to pop. Goodness, his act always leaves him with a sore upper back; maybe he shouldn't hunch over so much, even if he was playing the part of a no-good punk.

John only had a few seconds to shiver at his own thoughts- he was a punk. A real one! He was in a band!- before he heard the tell-tell sign of a rapidly approaching double set of footsteps echo down the hall. He scrambles to fling his lit cigarette into a water portal, chucking the pack for double security, while summoning a random suitcase from thin air.

All that's left is his rather eye-catching coat, a little too worn down and old to work well with his well-put-together outfit underneath. Without it, John has a clean, pressed white shirt, a respectful tie, and a pair of slacks that make more than one head turn as he walks.

All in all, he looks like the office businessman his worthless father always wanted to be.

John throws off his coat over a chair at the same time the door is thrown open with a pair of excited yells. "Welcome home, Dad!"

A grin stretched across his face before he could think about it, feeling his heart swell at the sight of them, as he knelt down, arms open wide. Two tiny bodies slam into him without a second of hesitation, nearly knocking John backwards.

He lets out a soft grunt as Dani's arms attempt to wrap around his left arm and right shoulder. She clashes against Danny, who's trying to bury himself into John's right side, little face squished against one of John's pecs, like a bunny burrowing into the snow.

"Hello, my little lambs!" He gushes, squeezing the kids close. "How was your day with the House of Mystery? Did you two behave?"

"They were angels," Black Orchid confirms, gliding into the room at a much slower pace. They had their regular, impassive expression on their faces, but John could tell that Orchid was happy with the kids by the way they gently tapped the tops of the children's black hair.

"Dad! Dad! Now that you're home, can we please go get my new ballet shoes?" Danny begs, bouncing on his toes.

For a moment, John doesn't see his son, but rather his own blue eyes staring up at his father, when he was also five, begging to join Lily, the next-door neighbor, in beginners' ballet class.

His father had beaten him nearly to death for wanting such a girly interest. It was the last time they spoke about it. It was also the last time John ever bothered asking to start new hobbies.

"Dad! Dad! Can I do Karate?" Dani asks then, snapping John from his memories better left buried, as she presses her check against her brother's in an attempt to get John's attention. "I want to break a board with my fist!"

He gives the children another squeeze, laughing at the squeals he gets. "Of course you can do karate, little lamb. We're going to get your brother his shoes, and then I'll find a gym that offers the classes at the same time."

"I already provided that service." Orchid cuts in, holding a flyer for Flying Graysons' gym, founded and run by the eldest Wayne in Gotham. "I took the liberty of signing Danny up for a class with Casnadra Wayne, and Dani will join Duke Thomas's class. It starts in a week."

"Plenty of time to go get them everything they need and a new book series for our bedtime stories," John announces, loosening his arms so his children can cheer and bounce up and down in excitement. His knee is starting to cramp up, but he ignores it so he can hold his kids.

It's moments like these, so small and mundane, that John is grateful he thought of his persona. When he first learned how to use the magic he was gifted, he always made himself available for any crisis.

This was before the Justice League days, so anyone who sought him out was familiar with the occult world. He adored helping, and he built an incredible amount of skill and knowledge in magic, but soon John was facing disaster after disaster, dragging his exhausted body from one place to another.

Those who came searching for him never cared. They wanted John to jump at the drop of a hat. He tried for years to always be ready, always be willing, but years of isolation and desperate battles tried him to the core.

Then he took in Danny and Dani, finding the pair of babies in a basket at the feet of the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. He had gone to investigate the legends of the famous King Pariah Dark, only to find what he assumed were originally sacrifices, well and truly alive.

Their names were attached to their feet with a letter written by a Jazz Fenton begging the two to grow and live well. She had died to save them. In her honor, John kept their names.

Daniel "Danny" Fenton and Danielle "Dani" Fenton. He often wondered what Jazz had been to the kids, with their identical last names. It is a question he will never get the answer to.

They could have been no older than five months, but when they opened their eyes and reached up for him, John realized he no longer wanted to be the go-to man of magic.

He wanted to be their father.

To discourage people from calling him away from his children, John created his persona of a man barely honorable enough to join a team. Over the five years of his raising his kids, his reputation plummeted until only Batman called to him unless absolutely necessary.

It was a breath of fresh air. John had fought for too long and too hard. He was retired now, just like his band days, the days when John would speed off to save the world were behind him. He only stepped in if a friend asked for a favor.

He had other priorities now.

The best part? The Justice League would never know that.

"Dad!" Dani screamed into his ear, making him grimace.

"Inside voice, darling."

"Sorry." She twirls her fingers, a nervous habit she picked up from John, before brightening up "I'm just super excited. Orichad said Mr. Bruce Wayne will be at the gym! Do you think he'll sign my Wayne Space shirt?"

Ah, yes, the man who was funding some space program or another. He only knew about this because his twins adored anything to do with space travel, as if though he couldn't just teleport them to a different planet.

"I'm sure he will, darling."

[writingpandagoth]

hiii i have been enjoying your writing so so much, i love the style of it and the way you write Severus makes me mellttt <3

I have a request hehe, i was wondering if you could write a severus x hufflepuff reader. I have sadly devoured every single fic like that that i have been able to find and i swear it would be a DREAM to read something like it in your style T-T

Maybe a slowly bonding over their passion for knowledge of certain herbs and other potion ingredients type of thing? Whatever you’d like to do would be incredible <3

I have to say, I totally get what you mean. I suck up on all these Hufflepuff Reader stories even though Imma Slytherin.

I have written this with much Love and Fluff for all you amazing and wonderful Hufflepuffs❤️ and of course for those who enjoy that dynamic just as much.

Enjoy!

Beneath The Willow

You spot him by the Black Lake, half-hidden in the shade of a sprawling tree, a book balanced in his long fingers. It takes all your courage to walk over. Your shoes crunch the grass too loudly in your ears. You stop just short of him, heart hammering, and lightly tap his shoulder.

Severus Snape turns his head, surprise flickering across his sharp features. His dark eyes meet yours, guarded but curious.

"I—" you start, then falter, cheeks already burning. You glance down, clutching your robes tighter around yourself. "Some older students… they threw my bag into a tree. I can't reach it. Could you—?" You gesture vaguely, unable to meet his eyes.

For a moment he says nothing. Then he stands, unfolding himself from the ground with a grace you wouldn't have expected. He's tall — taller than you by quite a bit — and when he follows where you point, he spots the bag almost immediately.

Without a word, Severus strides over, stretches up, and plucks it from the branch with ease. He turns back to you, holding it out.

You beam, your relief so big it overflows before you can stop it. You throw your arms around him in a spontaneous hug, your bag dangling awkwardly between you. You freeze just as fast, realizing what you’ve done. You stumble back, flustered, stammering, "I’m sorry—! I didn’t mean to—"

Severus is staring at you, wide-eyed, and for a second, he almost smiles. It's small — just a twitch at the corner of his mouth — but it's real.

You fumble with the bag, pulling out the book you'd been carrying — a thick, worn volume on medicinal herbs and their magical properties. He catches sight of it immediately.

"You study herbology?" he asks, voice low and a little rough, like he's not used to starting conversations.

You nod, still pink-cheeked. "I love it. Especially how it ties into potions."

Something shifts in his expression — a flicker of genuine interest. Instead of walking away, he sits back down under the tree, patting the grass beside him in a silent offer.

You sit. Carefully. Heart pounding.

Before you know it, you're both leaning over the book, knees brushing. He points out ingredients he's used in potions, tells you how the properties change depending on preparation. You add insights about plant growth and harvesting methods he'd never considered.

The afternoon slides by unnoticed. The lake sparkles, the leaves whisper above you, and for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re exactly where you're supposed to be.

And that’s how it all began.

After that first afternoon, it becomes natural — expected — to see Severus every day. Sometimes it's studying by the lake. Sometimes it's passing notes between classes. Sometimes it's just sitting together in comfortable silence, the air between you light and easy.

You don't know when exactly the word friend stopped feeling big enough.

One afternoon, you're standing outside the Herbology greenhouses with a few of your housemates when you spot him walking toward you. The sun catches in his hair, the light making his black robes seem even darker.

You barely have time to wonder why he looks so determined before he's standing in front of you, clearing his throat awkwardly. In his hand is a single flower — a small, wild one, a little crumpled from his grip.

Your friends fall silent, exchanging wide-eyed looks and barely suppressed giggles.

Severus holds out the flower. His ears are pink. "Would you... maybe... want to go on a date with me?" he asks, voice stiff like he had rehearsed it a hundred times and still wasn't ready.

Your heart nearly trips over itself. You take the flower with shaking fingers, your voice so soft it almost disappears. "Yes. I'd love to."

The moment hangs between you — so much unspoken, so much hope — before Severus nods, almost stiffly, and retreats like he's worried he'll ruin it by staying too long.

As soon as he's out of earshot, your friends break into hushed squeals, huddling around you like you just caught the Golden Snitch.

Your first date is by the Black Lake, of course. When you arrive, Severus has set up a small, slightly lopsided picnic. The blanket doesn't match and the food is simple — sandwiches and pumpkin juice — but it's perfect. It's him.

You sit together, knees brushing, talking about everything and nothing. He listens so intently when you speak, as if every word you say matters. When he talks about potions or obscure magical plants, his hands move with rare animation, and you hang on every word.

Time blurs. The sun sinks low. Neither of you moves to leave.

The sun is almost gone when you realize you should head back. The air between you hums with something delicate, trembling, about to change.

Severus looks at you — really looks — and you see all of it. The fear. The wonder. The wanting.

Slowly, hesitantly, he leans in. You meet him halfway, heart in your throat.

The kiss is soft, unsure, just a brush of lips but it’s enough to make the world tilt around you. When you pull back, Severus is looking at you like he can’t quite believe you’re real. You tuck your hand into his without a word and neither of you let's go.

A few weeks later, you're officially dating — no awkward conversations needed, no labels declared out loud. You simply are.

You walk the halls hand in hand, shy and careful at first. Soft kisses are pressed to your forehead before class. In the mornings, Severus is always waiting outside the Hufflepuff common room to walk you to breakfast. At night, he walks you back, his hand finding yours in the quiet, flickering corridors.

The rest of your House notices quickly. At first, it's small things — knowing smiles when you walk into the common room together, whispered jokes passed between friends when Severus waits patiently outside the entrance every morning.

Then come the badges. Homemade, a little crooked, charmed to flash your initials intertwined with tiny, floating hearts. They start appearing on robes, on schoolbags, even on a few proud Hufflepuff scarves. A silent, joyful celebration of the two of you.

Severus notices the first day they appear — you see the way his eyes catch on the badges, the way his mouth twitches, caught between exasperation and something much softer. But he doesn't say a word.

The younger students giggle behind their hands whenever he shows up — your tall, dark Slytherin shadow — especially when he blushes just from you smiling at him across the corridor. It’s an open secret now, this devotion between you, and no one can pretend otherwise.

He never tells them to stop. Never glares, never sneers, never pulls away. He just keeps looking at you — like you're sunlight breaking through a storm — and lets the whole world see exactly what you mean to him.

And you love him all the more for it.

--

By Seventh Year, there’s nothing shy about you and Severus anymore. The awkward glances, the blushing silences — all long gone. Now, you move through the castle like two halves of the same whole.

Severus still waits for you outside the Hufflepuff common room every morning. He still walks you back every night, even when he’s exhausted from studying or brewing or tutoring first-years who can't tell wolfsbane from wormwood. And he still looks at you like you're the best thing that's ever happened to him.

Maybe that's because, to him, you are.

With Severus, love is something you feel before you even see it.

The Black Lake glitters in the late afternoon light, the water a sheet of soft gold and silver. You're walking toward your tree — the one that holds the beginning of everything between you and Severus.

He’s already there, standing a little stiffly with his hands behind his back, reminding you so much of how he first asked you on a date years ago. His face softens the moment he sees you, and without thinking, you start to smile. It's instinct now — like breathing.

You reach him, and he clears his throat, shifting on his feet. You can tell he’s nervous — not because he doubts you, but because whatever he’s about to do matters. It matters so much to him.

"I made you something," he says, voice lower than usual, almost rough.

Before you can say anything, he brings his hands forward. Nestled in his palm is a delicate silver chain, and hanging from it is a small, iridescent charm — a tear-shaped stone that seems to shimmer with its own light.

"It’s enchanted," he says. "It changes color depending on what I’m feeling... and it warms when I'm thinking of you."

You reach out, fingers brushing his, and the charm flares instantly to a warm, steady purple.

"What does Purple mean?" you look at him waiting for his answer, you already think to know the answer to.

"Love." he replies, like it’s something obvious, something ancient and true.

You stare at it, blinking back the prickling heat in your eyes. The charm is already warm — not burning, just alive, just him.

"You’re thinking of me right now," you say, voice catching on a laugh.

He smiles — openly, brilliantly — no hesitation at all. "Always."

You turn without a word, gathering your hair up in both hands. Severus moves carefully, fastening the clasp at the back of your neck with fingers that are almost trembling. When he’s done, he lets his hands linger, resting lightly on your shoulders.

The charm glows brighter, and you laugh, tipping your head back against his chest.

"I love it," you say, meaning it more than anything you've ever said before.

"I love you," he says, like it’s the simplest, surest truth in the world.

You spin to face him, rising on your toes to kiss him — a soft, lingering kiss that tastes like sunshine and lake air and everything you’ve ever wanted.

And when you pull away, he’s smiling at you again — not the cold, rare smile the rest of the world sees, but the real one. The one that's just for you.

The castle corridors are busy later that evening, students flooding toward the Great Hall in waves of black robes and clattering shoes. You don't notice any of it.

All you notice is Severus — the way his hand finds yours so naturally, fingers threading together like they were made to fit. The way he’s smiling — not smirking, not sneering — just smiling like he’s been waiting all day to be next to you again.

"You're clingier than usual," you tease, bumping your hip into his.

He just tightens his grip on your hand, pulling you a little closer until your sides are pressed together. "Get used to it," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple right there in the middle of the hallway.

You laugh, cheeks heating up, but you don't pull away. You lean into him instead, loving the way he smells — a mix of old books, fresh parchment, and the faint, sharp bite of potions ingredients.

"You’re obsessed," you say, teasing, even though the truth of it makes your heart feel too big for your chest.

He stops walking for a second, pulling you around to face him fully. There's a spark in his dark eyes, something playful and wicked and completely in love.

"And you aren't?" he challenges, one eyebrow quirking up.

You pretend to think, tapping your chin dramatically. "Hmm. I guess you're alright."

Severus snorts — actually snorts — before ducking his head to hide his grin. You can feel the rumble of his laughter under your hand where it rests against his chest.

"You’re insufferable," he mutters fondly.

"And you love it."

"I love you," he corrects instantly, without even blinking.

You barely manage a breath before he’s pulling you into a kiss, quick, soft, but somehow enough to make your knees wobble.

His hand tightens slightly at your waist, his head dipping again, clearly about to steal another kiss but you pull back at the last second, grinning up at him mischievously.

"If you really love me" you tease, voice light, "you'll have to catch me first."

And before he can react, you’re laughing and darting down the corridor, robes flying.

Severus freezes for half a second — scandalized, betrayed — before huffing out a low laugh and chasing after you, long strides eating up the distance.

He catches you easily, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you straight off the ground. You squeal, laughing helplessly as he tosses you over his shoulder without breaking stride, carrying you down the hall like a prize he has no intention of letting go.

The corridor erupts around you. A cluster of Hufflepuff girls squeal and clap, flashing their 'Team (Y/N) & Severus' badges proudly. A group of Slytherins mock-gag dramatically, one of them calling out, "Merlin, get a room!" — but they’re laughing, not cruel. A pair of Gryffindor boys wolf-whistle, and even a Ravenclaw girl near the wall claps a hand over her mouth, giggling.

Up ahead, Professor McGonagall steps out of a classroom, eyebrows arching so sharply they nearly disappear into her hairline. She opens her mouth — clearly about to scold — but then pauses, catching the rare, genuine smile tugging at Severus’s mouth as he shifts you gently over his shoulder.

Instead of saying anything, she just sighs quietly and mutters under her breath, "Young love," before turning briskly on her heel.

Professor Sprout, passing by a few seconds later, catches sight of the two of you and simply beams, looking every bit as proud as if she had organized the entire spectacle herself.

Severus doesn’t even pretend to be embarrassed. He just keeps walking, completely calm, carrying you through the chaos like nothing in the world could matter more than keeping you close.

And you — laughing breathlessly, half-hiding your face against his back — don’t mind one bit.

Nothing else matters except the feel of his arms around you and the easy, certain way he loves you without ever trying to hide it.

And honestly? Nothing else ever will.

--

Potions class used to be a battlefield — noise, explosions, students panicking over melted cauldrons. Now, it feels like a secret world where only you and Severus exist.

You sit together, of course — always have since Fifth Year — but now there's no awkward tension, no stolen glances. You sit so close your robes brush, your legs touching under the shared table.

Today, Professor Slughorn assigns a particularly tricky potion — Amortentia, of all things — and the room buzzes with poorly hidden excitement and giggles.

Severus barely reacts. He sets up the cauldron with precise, practiced movements, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing the pale skin of his forearms.

You’re supposed to be helping — handing him ingredients, checking measurements — but mostly, you’re just... watching.

And not very subtly.

You prop your chin on your hand, openly admiring the way he works: the furrow of concentration between his brows, the way his mouth twitches slightly when he's focusing, the easy confidence in every movement.

"You're staring again," he says, voice low enough only you can hear.

"And you're very distracting," you shoot back without shame.

He doesn't look up. He just smirks — that soft, real smirk that’s only for you — and adds a pinch of powdered moonstone into the cauldron, the potion swirling and brightening into shimmering silver.

"You’re supposed to be helping," he reminds you, reaching blindly for the next ingredient.

You hand it over without looking, still making heart-eyes at him.

"Can't help it," you murmur. "You look hot when you’re brewing."

This time, he falters just slightly — enough that the edge of his mouth lifts higher.

"You’re impossible," he says, warmth threading through every syllable.

Then — glancing quickly to make sure Slughorn isn’t looking — Severus leans over and steals a kiss. Quick, soft, but devastatingly affectionate.

You blink at him, stunned for half a second, before grinning so hard your cheeks hurt.

Severus just returns to brewing like nothing happened, his cheeks faintly pink but his smirk firmly in place.

By the time the potion is done, it’s perfect — a shimmering, opalescent swirl rising from the cauldron.

Slughorn moves around the room, praising and teasing students about the scents they smell. When you and Severus lean over the cauldron, you catch it instantly, a whiff of his scent, familiar and grounding.

Old books. Fresh parchment. The faint sharpness of potions ingredients.

He breathes in as well and his smile grows wider, softer.

"You." your voices came out at the same time.

You both grin at each other, so openly and ridiculously in love that a few students nearby groan and make gagging noises. Others just giggle, exchanging knowing looks.

Even Slughorn chuckles, shaking his head fondly.

"Love" he says cheerfully. "Quite the potent brew itself, eh?"

Severus just laces his fingers with yours under the table, holding on like he never plans to let go.

And you know, without a doubt, that he never will.

Potions leaves both of you a little giddy. It’s easy, to fall into step together as you head toward your next class.

And if Severus is at his best with a cauldron and a wand, you’ve always been at your best with living, breathing magic — the kind rooted deep in the earth itself.

The greenhouse is warm and fragrant, sunlight filtering through the glass walls in hazy beams.

You're in your element here — sleeves rolled up, hair pulled back, hands deep in the soil with a confidence most students can only fake. Professor Sprout beams at you every time she passes, clearly proud.

Severus is supposed to be working alongside you, re-potting a particularly temperamental batch of Screechsnap plants.

Supposed to be is the key word.

Instead, he’s doing a lot of standing there, soil-stained gloves dangling uselessly from one hand, staring at you like you personally invented sunlight.

"Mr. Snape," Professor Sprout calls gently, an amused lilt to her voice. "Your partner could use a little help."

Severus startles slightly, blinks, then mutters an apology and turns back to the task.

For about three seconds.

Then you're explaining something about proper root trimming, your face alight with focus and excitement, and he’s lost again — watching the way you gesture, the way you bite your lip when you concentrate, the way you talk about magical plants like they're old friends.

Across the greenhouse, a few girls start giggling behind their hands. Severus doesn't even notice.

He reaches for a spade blindly, missing it by a good six inches.

Professor Sprout sighs — not annoyed, just fond — and walks over again.

"Mr. Snape," she says, "I know she's a hard one to look away from, but if you’re finished swooning, you might want to rescue your Screechsnap before it decides you’re lunch."

You fight to keep a straight face as Severus blinks again, color rising in his cheeks.

He mumbles something unintelligible and forces himself to focus on the plant — for about five seconds this time — before his gaze flickers back to you.

At that, Sprout just laughs under her breath, throws her hands up, and moves on to help another group of students.

"You’re hopeless," you whisper, elbowing him lightly.

"I know," Severus says without shame, leaning closer. "And it’s entirely your fault."

By the time class ends, Severus hasn't managed more than five minutes of real work — and you haven’t stopped smiling once.

It’s easy to slip away after that, hands brushing, laughter still warm between you. The afternoon stretches lazy and golden across the grounds, and without needing to say a word, you both find yourselves wandering back toward the Black Lake — toward your tree, your place.

It’s too perfect a day to waste inside.

The Black Lake shimmers lazily under the afternoon sun, the air warm with the slow, sleepy promise of summer. The Tree offers shade, its wide branches swaying gently in the breeze.

You’re supposed to be studying.

Technically.

A textbook lies open across your lap, half-hearted notes scrawled along the margin but it’s hard to focus when Severus is behind you, sitting with one arm holding him up, legs bracketing yours, other arm looped casually but securely around your waist.

Every few minutes, he presses a kiss somewhere along your neck, soft, lingering kisses that scatter your concentration like leaves in the wind.

"Sev," you laugh "I’m trying to study."

He hums, entirely unbothered, nuzzling into the curve of your shoulder like he belongs there. Which, really, he does.

"You can study later," he murmurs, mouth brushing your skin. "besides you’ve been focused on school all day,"

"I have to get through this chapter—" You huff, more amused than annoyed and try to read another line. You get as far as herbaceous properties of before his lips find the spot just below your ear, and you dissolve into giggles.

"You are very needy today" you chuckle wriggling away half-heartedly.

He tightens his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, and growls low against your skin:

"Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me all day?"

You freeze, heart stuttering.

"Every time you laughed, every time you looked at me—" His voice is rough, almost wrecked. "I wanted to pin you against the nearest wall and kiss you until you couldn’t stand."

Your book slips out of your hands without you even realizing it.

Severus presses another kiss just below your ear, slower this time, almost reverent — and it’s the last push you need.

You give up. With a playful growl, you turn in his arms and push at his chest until he tips back onto the grass with a low, surprised laugh.

Before he can recover, you're straddling him, hands on either side of his face, grinning like a fool.

"Fine," you say, leaning down until your noses brush. "You win."

He opens his mouth to say something — probably something smug but you cut him off with a kiss.

Deep, slow, unhurried.

The kind of kiss that says you’re mine without needing words.

Severus's hands find your hips, steadying you like he’s afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

The world around you fades — the lake, the breeze, the distant sounds of students — all of it slipping away until there’s only him, only you, only this.

You lose track of time. You lose track of everything but the way his fingers thread through your hair, the way he kisses you like he’s memorizing every detail.

At some point, you end up lying tangled together in the grass, his forehead resting against yours, both of you laughing breathlessly for no reason at all.

You don’t need a reason.

You have each other and that’s enough.

It always will be.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[autism-corner]

they hate me for my swagger

[unproduciblesmackdown]

had a hell of a time (good) bit ago watching elemental and feeling things including enjoying a film, great ride, i love a metaphor & anything vignettey (just living life, alongside but also including the [this is about the metaphor] threads), i do love it when a couple of fun people have an enriching dynamic that they enjoy and huaaaghwgh (good) & i liked the premise metaphor exactly as is for what it is for what it did with it & i liked overlaps & resonances w/other experiences i saw ppl perceive. i liked the way i was going oh my god that painting looks the way i feel b/c like navigating a complementary dynamic where what's holding one person back is what helps the other person along, vice versa, no interaction or relationship that develops by like having some [theoretically your trait/quality/behavior] contained in the other person, rather it being an interaction within yourself, such that i was going "i have this interaction Within Myself, right now, in life currently like always and the past years but also past months especially really, it's ongoing, i'm going Oh Goddamn Omg" scintillating to see it externalized as a conversation imagined by others. and also still different / more capacious on both ends than "wow Exactly that." feeling things going ohh my god. music is going for it so Noticeably. hot air balloon scene And track changing me with an immediate Resonance

easier when having fun but i was also like continually so hype gasping about intrigued about pointing at art direction decisions & execution and one especial element i was sooo noting was the use of Color b/c it's Really colorful like rainbow palette nigh constant noticeable saturation, And it was atmospheric, always readily visibly parsed, varying in styles but cohesive. the backgrounds babey, with obvious priority for working with a vivacious orange and/or blue. oh and the related use of Light like different visuals for different glows and just different effects and waugh....i collected mostly a bunch of bgs to point at often for that "look at the color design & atmosphere" but also so much more & foreground things big time too. semitransparent characters like bitch. the physics of fluid dynamics. optics like refraction like my God. i'm mclosing it and that these effects would be sooo prohibitively intensive w/o computer but it's so impressive w/computer and that Stylistic Decisions were made all over, it's clearly not ever simply just "oh this is what it'd 'realistically' look like if uhhh someone was made of fire or water" even as realism Based effects were employed for style and fun and our lives. the use of of course 2D animation / art conventions for style and effect and fun & our lives!!! maybe ember a bit too but wade has a whole like 2D style profile so the [curved droplet] shape always faces the camera, how are we doing that it's so cool & i love to see it. not to mention being transparent but also like clearly not!! first time i've properly thought about how inside of mouth 3D animation has Ever worked lmao

cut so i can go on & on (^ that's brevity up there lol) & post mostly various backgrounds to gesticulate at what i notice abt the use of color like oh my god. and some other things. laughed, cried, lived & loved like for real lol

oh my god

and like immediate intro theme going "oh my god blue and orange making Purple (magenta, pink) oh my god we're doing Additive Light with that holy shit yes"

so extra [!!!] about city nighttime shots especially. and the details of all the building designs, it's all the shit like i haven't even sat and Studied any given shot for all small elements like that but that you know they're There so that it looks this complex and "realistic" like you know the attention & effort is there & you get the Overall Effect baby. also the way purple/green are employed to contrast with blue/orange often. the Glows here, the Bluer upper half and the Oranger lower half that both also have some purplishness to them, the Green bridge breaking it up / spanning this

the colors in closeups even. first of all the expressions styles are after my own heart & got it, and i'm sure i'll go on & on more there. pull mouths down do the m upper lip n lower lip lines combo, you know what i mean, i Love it. wavy flowy design vs more triangular / ending in peaks/corners design for your water vs fire aesthetiques. i think that's [heat creating refraction in the air] effect like lord. the pink blue purple here. the slight shadow framing the pic for better contrast, the pink / glow around ember, wade slightly Glows from within too, the constant wave refraction there. okay obsessed again with both sorta transparent and fluid Figures like you've got the outermost layers. you've got the Inside. you've got the silhouettes and the lines that are "drawn," reddish outlines of flame shapes and constant highlight "outlines" for water so it never "realistically" blends in with everything / just Is clear and is impossible to easily parse. that those silhouettes are constantly Flowing and responding to motion / pressure as well. i can only imagine. oh and the colors again that the Glow for fire is often a Soft gradient, but there's this like, slightly convex polygonal style of "glow" / Light in backgrounds a lot and it works great for style and contrast with the important Soft Glow from fire and even also water, again the slight inner glow there too. and again the mutual [pull mouths down] expressiveness lol so much fun. the Elasticity is fantastic, same with like 2D style Movement like invoking a smear frame for example like fuck yes it's about What Works it's about style & effect & what things like lighting color faces can do that aren't just aiming for "be peak realistic" like clearly it isn't. note the sharper line of shadow in the upper corner with a deeper blue. we framing

oh this one was to point out "look at how you can see the full spectrum rainbow in the wave surface light refraction oh my fucking god" not to mention of course In Motion the shapes, the effect, some bubbles and flow for flare and seeing that constant Light Outline, the cyan leaning aqua that's put in along with the overall slight blue not b/c it's "realistic" but b/c it's what works baby the artistic design choices fuck like hell. and only when i took this one frame was it like oh my fucking god look at these split second flame shames flowing off of ember there above her head especially. all the more stylization required for fire without it being like, "realistically" mostly transparent, overly bright, not very strongly delineated / silhouetted....the shape, color, flow of flames on the "inside," outermost breaking off shapes & "outline" as well augh god. and look at the purples in the background's left side

AUGH the night city backgrounds. pottery burn haha yeah the blue orange AND purple my god!!!! it's thematic ([blue + orange = purple] b/w the blue & orange characters) and it fucks like hell holy shit!!!!!

meanwhile the green & purple here with One orange element getting to stand out / not that much blue either, but more ultramarine style than aquamarine, and LOOK AT THE MOON!!! the surface!!! check out that Polygonal glow around it and the green/purple there too!!!

and the use of bokeh. immaculate, not holding back, after my heart. the Purple/Pink additive light properties coming into play!! her reflection is more simply orange(tm) sometimes and i would presume it tends purpler when we are getting [emotionally connecting / recognition of the self through the other] but oh my god heaving overhead like a hero this additive light blue+orange=purple ingenious and stylistically fucking like hell choice. and again their "outlines" working so well while also retaining enough softness/fluidity to be part of them as a whole. everything is so cool

there's the mouth shape i was talking about. you see the slight m upper lip simply n lower lip and resultant (idk like a video game controller?) shape lol. flexible expressive asymmetry. the closeup transparency of [can always see the other side of shirt collar]. green bg for contrast while also incorporating the orange glow. the full spectrum rainbow refraction just also an immaculate and probably characterfully relevant lmao as a bonus. also hell of cute moments wauugh yes, fun, dying thanks

the additive light!!! (how magenta/purple/pink the reflection of Orange is off the Blue like employing what's realistic in another context for what fucks aesthetically & carries symbolism. like wade wouldn't Realistically be constantly [surface wave refractions] but it fucks like hell. also wouldn't be someone made of fire or water but it fucks like hell & embodies a central metaphorical layer to the literal material). also look at that curtain from deep purplish red to deep bluer purple!!! the line of bright blue!!! the glow in the Background with sharper polygonal lines / corners to contrast with the visual effects of glows elsewhere!!! wade default =3 as [wavy featured] and inherent =3 vs ember's more flame tipped => (not pictured)

ohh this one for rainbow color / out of focus usage and b/c it's like how the semi transparency but only So Much + constant outline of Highlights / constant inner glow and visible infusion of like aquamarine / bright turquoise cerulean color helps a water guy stay perfectly Visible / parsable. also besides ember being green, an effect subtly pictured at any given point: like cinders continually rising off fire but depicted so much like Sparkles :') there's so much colors and highlights and choices after my own sensibilities out here like i love a shoulder swoop design that flows right into the arms from the neck from the head. and that's exactly what we get precisely b/c it has so much flow!!! ember's like whole head Flaring out from her neck, terminal points like tips, or sources, of flames. Styles

the bokeh!! the blues and pinks and purples!!!

ouuwaah

UGH obviously in motion the like arcing falling curtains of water, the shimmering....the purple into pink into dusky orange!!! the little bit of contribution of the turquoise light aaa wahooo, ofc what the bridge adds in Composition for this & that previous shot

lmao this is b/c Wavy Scribble Squiggle Mouth again the design choices after my own heart. the constant extra wobbliness to Mouth Outline obviously works great to emphasize [water design] but it also works great b/c i love it

every shot of the background with this beach is gongious like jesus christ. the closeup of sand is like that looks amazing and So soft. look at the wavy swoopy shapiness of the clouds, look at the [in this shot] faintly detectable Polygonal outlines of Glow from the sun. feel free to look at that water like i said every shot of this, wrow. tasked with Pretty Beach Sunset and coming through big time

expressive design contrast, glow contrasts, refracting, silhouettes, those flame shapes breaking off again epic hot wheels style fuck yes....and the bg!!! look at the purple to muted purple pink sky, the atmospheric distancing on layers of buildings that goes from blue to purple!! the dimmer purple / blue / teal on the ground in the foreground here UGH the COLOR USE

ooh i was so Noticing the like, full ultramarine blue here, like it's been used Before in any night environments but the way here it's brighter, making it like "okay yeah night but more Lit Up. also the visual variety of [water curtain] textures there, the area of Pink, the Yellow that hasn't previously shown up too much but might be saved for associations with tension / "danger" lol. also love the "straightup a pool" designs lol wish i was swimming

oh the orange + blue = purple on display here / translating Outlines

amazing sequence and again look at the Purple shadows the Blues the Oranges the Greens!!!! aughhh again like So colorful and so bright but also ofc dimmed, atmospheric, balanced, waughhh!!!

oh my god what can i say. "bisexuality" for one but and also fr like the pink of the sky vs deep purple, lighter with more blue in the water, the streak of oranger light, pink atmospheric haze....augh!!!

speaking of "and then really vivid striking colors in another overall palette we haven't seen before" the teal & golden yellow for this shot was new & noticeable. the yellow of problems, but not too bad lol, looking at that Contrast with the blue on the outer pool edge there. i wanna take a swim yippee....but fr like holding some colors more in reservation, finding new combinations, as Ever how bright the bgs are but atmospheric, non overwhelming of other elements, i Love it

bokeh!!!! colors!!!!!!!

bokeh!!!!!! colors!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

fucking roy g biv like yes gorgeous. nice tree evocative bridge. composition. lots of lights and colors but the distribution being so balanced, but organic, broken up in all the right ways and all encompassing....the bright orange lights in shadowed blue/purple buildings in the upper left corner, leading down to the path of lights across the center of everything....ugh incredible great

out of focus bg, the lights, the purples, the blue/Green, look at everything on the right side ugh lovely, the slight Shapes of glows, can see that arc in the right side as well, the emotional relevance of all the colors and glows as this bg dims / desaturates a second later

and so similarly here, the Purple, the Glows....like the use of both the perfect balance of soft edges/borders but no sacrifice in clarity

oh and i suppose there's then any amount of spoilers following but like, in part only b/c i point them out as as much but also like. it's about the journey lmfao you see two screenshots, containing some information, well you've seen it all

and to pad that out i'll also note without screenshots about it like bringing in a very like Clear for Compositional Effect sort of Danger Yellow again twice over, with the harshest like chartreuse leaning yellow yet for it, v much a color that it'd just take more effort to fit into a palette / would have to be kind of the color centerpiece, vs the orange/blue/purple here

(but also not to say yellow was never used otherwise....some perfectly harmless golds, paler lighting like just Daytime vibe, constant presence w/fire of course. so the Particulars of a hazard yellow are all the more notable)

the COLORS....look at that orange that pink red the pink reflections the Purples....the just deep slightly slightly purple red in the bg and how like smoothed over / Immediate that background is to just make everything close & present!! the flame textures going!!! water textures going!!! cinders as points of light!! the colors the orange purple pink blue UGHH it's amazing they're really off the shits with it in every scene

spoilers they do kiss about it and i was like smacking hand to forehead like oh my god and they did another "breaking out a new Light thing" when we've glowed and refracted within and without, lit up or dimmed, sparkled, reflected, used further styles in environmental lighting....answer was Lens Flare rainbow refracting glow like goddamn!!! and again like putting In the purple, but also the blue, the orange, the out & out more cerulean / aquamarine that is not gonna simply come from elsewhere in the environment. nice commitment to also having someone smile into a kiss lmao we've all been like i Will make this work. i'm still just like ugh the focus on and variety of Light too, the backgrounds' like soft polygon/hexagon glow "fields," straightforward soft/even gradient glows, wave pattern refraction, refraction also separating light into rainbows, remember water is a lens, stylized light of fire, bokeh, additive color mixing....holding on to & breaking out Cinematic LENS FLARE is fr like ohhh my god they're just fucking On It, got this, here's another effect for you

i also have a gif b/c i couldn't note anyone's fluid dynamics / flowing / Interacting physics enough, and little moments giving that some extra flair are a delight, but holy shit a highlight i'm instantly obsessed with forever, now if there's something and nobody pours themself, i'm out

oh we sloshing!! all the water physics going on here to fantastic effect but also all working within the confines of "and it's some guy." immaculate joke 5 sec later around the "i am Not an inspector" line just What a delight. the vision....the manifestation of effort, craft....i'm not kidding at all i'm like okay forever treasuring [pours yourself] clip and if someone doesn't get it it's like it's called joie de vivre, panache, taking all kinds. some sloshheads out here

again i had a delightful time at the cinema (figuratively. i didn't go anywhere. though i did go "oh fuck re: even the idea of seeing plenty of this in theater format" like i was going oh Shit at visuals and music and every damn thing enough already, can only imagine) i was like bitch i love ppl living life vignettesquely with the emotional arcs aids of metaphor, symbolism. i love the styles and designs and i love paying attention to details and going damn how they'd do that, i love technical shit, noting techniques that are centered around 2D derived visuals, about aesthetic effect & visual purpose....i was going "oh my god same. lately, always, ongoing. oh my god it's me always crying at everything, but also never at anything, and also just sometimes at some things. it's me with the Temper it's me with one like everyone else but not about to let it out at all / not be making room for anyone else's. me like 'just powering through like arghhh' me like 'that, but [a puddle]' liable to spontaneously interact with randos by just doing your own thing, also [dying] and beloathed at that, going with the flow trying to carpe diem it, having these conversations and navigations like just as one person lmao, and also ofc it's different" lol like oh damn okay. and twentysomethings popular with the nebkids like wow in real life....and just having a great time entirely straightforwardly and expecting as much but also being increasingly delighted and surprised and going "wow my aesthetique sensibilities piqued" and going "wow okay a journey" and like Gasp at details and loving the overall effects and little moments and shots and entire deal. did weep repeatedly, when you slosh, when you soggy....delighted a lot, along for the ride having fun for the whole way, so much abt [bummed 20somethings who are nevertheless very vivacious Feeling Things, including About feeling things] and the way that's given sooo much space, Saturating things even, maybe with light & color....i liked it a bunch, [aaaaaa], great time, thinking about feeling things and feeling about it and about thinking about it & so on & so forth too like man hang on a second. and the soundtrack. and the character designs Overall there did i mention?? so cute & fun. wobbly wavy shivery tapering having Flow in the lines / shapes of silhouettes in different ways just like flow in [fluid dynamics] of flame or water in different ways. there's a lot i can say but i just mostly did the backgrounds / color / lighting noncomprehensive slideshow lol. i was very engaged like oh wahoo yippee aaa then mfs let's go and keep going

[sirfrogsworth]

Remember this joke?

Well, I am going to do something similar only with photography. This is a photo someone took for an Amazon review of their Clinique products.

Honestly, it is not a terrible photo. They did some staging. They have an interesting background. All of the labels are legible. It is properly exposed. This would be a perfectly acceptable product photo for an Etsy page.

I've been taking these advanced photography courses in preparation for whenever I am able to create a new studio in the house. And my teacher is a photography badass. I just watched a 6 hour class on how to recreate a professional Clinique ad. And at first glance it looks deceptively simple. It's just some skin care products being splashed with a little water.

Which is why I wanted you to see an average person for reference.

This is what Karl Taylor came up with.

And I don't think I've learned so much about photography in one tutorial before.

Product photography is just loads and loads of problem solving. You have to light the chrome caps with a gradient. Which requires giant diffusion scrims.

Those big white panels are literally only there for the two chrome caps.

You need a pure white background, but you can't let light spill all over the studio, so you put up giant black light blockers.

And you have to add another light just for the orange bottle on the right.

Oh, and if you want the bottles to glow, well, you have to hide a silver reflector behind them.

But you still want the edges of the bottles to be darker so they have some contrast. So you add some black tape to the sides.

And in order for the reflective labels to have bold black lettering, you have to reflect black cards into them.

Ack! Karl's beautiful bald head is showing up in the chrome caps! He must put on the naughty blanket.

And once you get every aspect of every bottle perfectly lit, you finally get to yeet some water at it all.

I don't love product photography because I have a weird obsession to help greedy corporations make their wares look more beautiful. I love it because it is a complicated and challenging new puzzle every time. Every product is a different shape and requires a different technique to make it look its best.

I don't know if I will be able to live up to Karl's standards.

This is about the level I was at in 2017 before I quit photography.

I have so much more knowledge in my brain now. I'm really hoping I can surpass that.

[dadsbongos]

hi (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡ i was wondering if it's okay to be a little bit feral about viktor here.,..,., craving him. Carnally

let’s get feral about viktor…  general thots here and then a stupid blurb below the cut

would definitely be into face-sitting: pleasing his partner while laying back. hands free to roam and grope and you get to control the pace. you could grind on his nose and throw your head back and he just gets to listen as you squeal.

also would look so so so good covered in hickies….. purplish love bites decorating his sharp collarbones.. he’d probably let you get away with sucking some up his neck since he’s locked in the lab all day anyway

hngnnnggg he’s gotta be PENT up too. he’s handsome and he knows it, but he went from a studying assistant to a full scientist behind hextech so he pretty much capped himself on sex. so when he gets into it he is. INTO it. so needy and whiny and overstimulates himself to keep fucking you just so he doesn’t have to stop

i want him lol… not laughing

~~ 530 words

his careful and thoughtful inflection, each word he says wrought so particularly that no matter how big the words he uses are -you understand each one perfectly with how he uses it.

which is why you take so much pleasure in finding him tongue-tied next to you. pale cheeks flushing and eyes, so ragged with knowledge, wide chock full of curiosity. you’re sure he hasn’t gotten much attention -- no amount of beauty or charming accent can save a scientist from his own devotion.

he got dragged out to an exhibition gala by jayce and he’s been slick against the wall since arriving. no drink or plate in hand, he simply leans there in a bored silence. which is when the last person he wants to see arrives: you, the new assistant.

you spare no time before saddling up beside him with two champagne flutes. one has a dewy smear of gloss along the rim while you extend the other.

“any commitments tomorrow? or can i finally see the famed hextech let loose?”

viktor eyes the bubbles, dragging his gaze up to your face and halting there for an excruciating second before leaning to grab the glass.

“i was just thinking of leaving,” he admits, “these public showings are not my idea.”

“go figure. i think everyone here’s gathered that.”

“jayce can handle any questions of the evening…” viktor sighs, frowning down at the champagne, “sad that you wasted your time getting me the glass.”

“you know, i do wonder how many girls out in town dream about jayce. he’s the face -a pretty face- for hextech,” viktor raises a brow at you prodding for explanation, “i just don’t understand how they can overlook the brains.”

viktor jumps, gaze startling down to his feet, a stiff response already spilling, “jayce is half the brain, and so am i.”

“then i guess i just need to tell you that i think you’re cute.”

a flurry of excuses storms behind his eyes before he catches his breath, shoulders drooping as he exhales and realizes: he doesn’t have to find an excuse. he doesn’t have to refuse you at all. 

he’s not working tonight. you’re not working. he can’t remember the last time he got to act like a normal man with normal desires rather than fulfilling some vague purpose. an idyllic achievement.

he could just be a man tonight.

so he clinks his glass against yours with a soft smile, “then i’m assuming you’re not busy tomorrow, either?”

“i am not,” you beam, sliding closer toward him.

and good thing; both of you having the next day off means you can pull viktor into your apartment, and then your bed. he lets you guide the night, watching with uncharacteristic amazement as you strip -- he looks so mesmerized his hands clench, itching to scale up your bare sides.

you swing a leg over him when he’s sat against your headboard, “you okay, vik?” he tilts his head only for you to cup his cheeks and keep his head straight, “you’re all flushed.”

“your forwardness,” he blinks up at you, heart thrumming between his ribs, “it scares me.”

“oh?”

“i’ve never been more aroused.”

“oh…”

… in another world i will write a viktor fic with this same premise… it is so. Interesting to me.

[eddiesxangel]

Amorem | E.M

Cw: you’re tired of being alone, so you cast a spell to find love. 7.3k words, witch!f!reader x Eddie, magic, fluff, mild angst, smut, unprotected sex, creampie.

“I just feel so lonely.” You sigh.

Robin, Nancy, Max, and Joyce, all collectively nod their heads as you’re all gathered at the Coven house. They can’t help but feel a small amount of pity, they have all found their partners. You’re the last witch standing.

“What about the amorem enchantment?” Joyce, the coven mother suggested. 

She is a wise witch, the townspeople call her eccentric, however she is very knowledgeable when it comes to the craft. 

“That seemed a bit desperate” you sigh. 

“You’re a beautiful witch in your prime, it is time to find your match before it is too late.” Joyce points out.

It is very unfortunate when a witch loses their match due to natural selection because there is a very small window to do something about it. 

The supernatural forces are lenient to keep your human longer than their body allows if you claim them in time. It only works if the match is in their mid-twenties. No one knows why, but it is when you need to act. You’re already in your twenty-fifth year, you can’t push it any longer.

With a sigh of defeat you begrudgingly agree that it was what has to be done.

“Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem” your chant starts softly. Alone at your altar, deep in the meadow with the wildflowers and dew. Your altar is set up against a weeping willow with all you have gathered for your enchantment. 

Amorem enchantments, or love enchantments, are a powerful thing. The magic cannot make someone fall in love with you; that’s not how it works. The magic is to draw the source of love towards you, to help guide the individuals together.

You think of your ideal partner- charismatic, funny, loyal, trustworthy, doting, physical, handsome, artistically inclined, and imaginative. All of those things race on your mind as you chant.

You can feel your magic building. The warmth builds in the depth of your chest and spreads through your arms to your fingertips as you continue the chant. 

“Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum, dea amoris, invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem” 

The moon is at its highest, the wind is whistling. “Ego invocabo Freyja ad auxilium me invenire amorem. Adiuva me invenire unum, dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum dea amoris, adiuva me invenire unum ego. One last final chant and it was complete.

You feel a soft brush against your hand. Looking down, you smile at the little ball of fluff—Clover, your familiar. She is a calico rabbit you’ve had since your magic presented itself at eight years of age. 

You glamour your altar so no one would disrupt it- not that anyone comes out here, but you can never be too careful keeping the witches' secret….

A few miles away, tucked up in bed was a man, unbeknownst to him, whose life was about to change.  

Eddie isn’t too sure why he is here. He was in his apartment strumming, trying to find the right chords, when he had a sudden urge to go out. Where? He didn’t know, but if he didn’t, his gut told him he would miss out on something… something big.

Now he’s found himself in this kitschy store next to Melvald’s. He’s never noticed or paid much attention to it, but he found himself pulled up in front of it and being drawn in. 

The wind chimes let you know that a potential customer has entered your little shop whilst you are in the back sorting stock, so you poke your head out to see who’s arrived 

“Let me know if you need anything” you politely say before seeing who was there. 

“Uh… thanks” You see the man scratch his head looking clueless until his eyes meet yours. 

“Oh. Hi,” you step out when you realize who is in your presence.

Eddie Munson, of all people. 

“Hey,” he awkwardly waves. 

You haven’t seen him since you graduated high school, nearly seven years ago. You had heard he was held back a few times, but you hadn’t given him a second thought. 

“Let me know if you’re looking for something specific, I can help you out,” you smile and try and act busy. 

When he turns his back you can’t help but observe him as he searches the shelves. 

“What kind of place is this?” He looks over his shoulder.

“Well we are called Mystic Apothecary, what do you think?” You raise a brow biting back a snarky giggle, the touches of sarcasm rolling off your tongue. 

“Ah,” he nods and continues browsing. 

You curse yourself for being snarky. This is a potential customer, you need to be more approachable.

“So that makes you? What? A Sorceress?” He smirks and you can’t help but blush. 

“You could say that.” 

Eddie spends about ten minutes browsing and picking up little trinkets and other items before bringing them to your counter. 

“Looks like someone wants to get into spell work,” you smile. He has a pentagram pendant, a tapestry, some empty spell jars, so pre filled spell jars, a black obsidian tower, and a cauldron.

“Uh-I needed some props” 

“Props, huh?” Your pointed aubergine nails clack on the register keys to input the prices. 

“I play this game, it’s silly.” He shrugs. 

Eddie wasn’t sure why he was being so bashful. He’s always been so proud to be himself, so why is he nervous in front of you? 

He semi-remembers you from school. You were more subdued and kept to yourself or your girl group. Everyone called you guys the Hawkins Coven, not that you were actually witches, but now he is rethinking that…

It also doesn’t escape him that you’re really pretty—like otherworldly pretty. He was really digging your style. Your peasant skirt and half corset are really doing it for him; very ren fair of you. 

“So, is this like your uniform, or do you always dress like this?”  Where did that come from? Eddie curses himself, but you just giggle.

“Why? You want one for yourself?” You smirk. 

“What? You don’t think I could pull it off?” 

“You would look lovely” 

“Thank you, my lady” he curtseyed. 

This made you giggle some more. This interaction was cute flirty and fun. You have never spoken to him this much, who knew he was so charming? 

“Thanks for shopping.” You pass him his goodies in a paper bag. 

“I guess I’ll see you around?” 

“Yeah,” you smile. 

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding once the chimes for the door let you know Eddie was out of the store. 

What the Hecate was that?

Clover hops over onto the counter giving you a knowing look. 

“No… you don’t think?” 

She twitches her nose. 

“You’re crazy”  

She stomps her little back foot and you roll your eyes. 

“Let’s see.”

Days passed without any interaction with Eddie, until today. While at the food court with the coven, Max caught sight of Lucas, her boyfriend, sitting with his friends. As you approached their table, you unfortunately stumbled after stepping on your bootlace. With a small squeal, you found yourself tripping and falling onto someone's lap. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed.

Looking up, you noticed a smirk on his face as he replied,

"Not every day I have a pretty girl falling into my lap." Your cheeks flushed with heat as you realized it was Eddie Munson.

Quickly regaining your composure, you got up, apologized once more, and walked away.

“Pretty, huh? Anything come of the Amorem Enchantment?” Max asks as the group of you walk away. 

“I’m, not sure. Clover thinks she has it all figured out on who it is but I’m skeptical”  

“Okay” you see Max give the others a knowing look but you bite your tongue. You don’t want to jump to conclusions.

The next day, you and Robin are out running errands, preparing for the upcoming full moon in a few days. Your coven always gathers during the highest point of the moon to draw magic from the earth, strengthening your bond and powers. It's like recharging a battery; it's not necessary, as magic never fades, but it can lie dormant if not utilized correctly.

"Hey, isn't that Munson?" Robin acknowledges, catching your attention. Surprised to see him again so soon, after seven years of not crossing paths, now encountering him for the third time in 2 weeks. "I suppose it is," you respond.

"I hardly see him," Robin remarks, her tone implying something you don't appreciate. 

"And?" you question, raising an eyebrow.

"And nothing," she replies in a defensive tone. 

"Has Brutus been talking to Clover?" you ask, disliking the familiars' gossiping habits.

"I'm not a snitch," Robin retorts, prompting you to roll your eyes. 

Her owl never seems to know when to stay quiet.

"Are you stalking me, Sorceress?" Eddie startles you as he approaches from behind. "Going to fall for me again?" he teases, making you clear your throat. 

Eddie seems unsure why he left the shop. That feeling of being drawn to a particular place during his lunch break, was gnawing that the back of his head, which led him straight to you.

"Damn, Munson, creeping up on all the ladies?" Robin scolds, to which Eddie replies, 

"Nah, just Sorceress here," tilting his head as you feel a blush rising on your cheeks.

“Sorceress, huh?” Robin raises her brows at you. 

“He came to the Apothecary.” You defend. 

“Uh-huh,” she nods and smiles. Only confirming Clover and Brutus’ accusations. 

“Yep, well we better get going. Joyce is waiting. Good to see you.” You grab Robin and take off before Eddie can ask you what he’s been wanting to do since yesterday.

The Halloween Fall festival is usually your favourite event of the year. However this year you’ve been working more than enjoying the festivities. You’ve been in the tent most of the day, doing tarot readings and “fortune telling.” You’re exhausted and about to close up when a deep voice catches your attention.

“Guys I’m not doing it, it’s dumb.” 

“Too bad you lost the bet now go in there!” A younger-sounding guy demands. 

“It’s all hocus poc- woah” The man is pushed into view and you can’t believe your luck when it’s Eddie.

“All a bunch of Hocus Pocus, huh?”

Of course, he would be a non-believer. 

“Flip that sign to say Closed for me would ya?” You ask whilst shuffling the deck for hopefully the last time today.

“You trying to get me alone or something,” Eddie suggests but you ignore it. 

“Sit.” 

“Yes ma’am” Eddie smirks, pulling out the chair. 

With a big sigh, you shuffle the deck with your eyes closed. 

“What is it you want to know?” 

“Uh…” 

“A general reading it is. Fifteen dollars.” You motion to the glass jar and he scrambles to put the cash in. 

You feel that the cards are aligned so you go ahead a pull. The six cards are placed face down between you and Eddie. 

“Ready?” You smirk. 

“I guess.” He shrugs.

You flip the first card. 

“Chariot in Reverse. You feel like there is a lack of direction in your life. Like you’re on the right path but maybe a little lost. Like you took the wrong turn down the road.”

You flip the second card.

“Death.”

Eddie looks up at you. He looks scared, but you giggle.

“It’s not literal, it means new beginnings, change, metamorphosis. Like you’re finally finding your path.” You look up at him through your lashes and he lets out the breath he was holding in. 

“The lovers” you continue with a gulp and flip the next card, The Eight of Stars.

“There is hope for a new relationship forming.” You continue to flip the fifth card and of course, it’s The Empress.

“More growth and beauty to enter into this new relationship. “

“How do you know it’s new?” Eddie interrupts. 

This catches you off guard. It’s not like you can come out a say ��I cast a love enchantment and you’re the only one who is consistently popping up in my life.’

“I’m a fortune teller. Duh” 

This makes Eddie giggle and relax a bit more, so you continue to the final card. 

“The Devil.” You sigh, and Eddie’s eyes blow wide again with wonder.

“It’s because I’m the town Satanist, isn’t it?” He accuses.

Once again you ignore him and continue.

“This relationship will be addictive, lustrous, seductive. You won’t be able to keep your hands off one another. You’re both going to fall and fall hard” Your eyes are locked in on one another. You want to look away but you can’t, you think he feels it too, the pull… 

When did you start leaning into one another? Your faces are so close, just a centimetre more and- you pull back immediately as the sound of the timer makes you both jump. 

“Well, times up thanks for coming” You stand and rush him out. 

“What? That’s it?” 

“Yep. Have fun at the festival!” You close the curtain in front of him before he can say another word. 

Eddie can’t believe what has just happened. He stood there awestruck but also very confused. 

“Dude, what happened?” Eddie’s friend Jeff shakes him. 

“Uh,” he scratches the back of his head “I have no fucking idea.” Eddie looked back over his shoulder at the tent but there was no movement at all. 

The situation with Eddie was consuming your day-to-day. Weeks have passed since the festival, and all you thought about was him. You finally are coming to terms that the enchantment is what is leading the two of you together, why deny it?

Eddie and you haven’t bumped into one another since the Halloween Festival and it’s been eating at you. After the tarot reading you realized you shouldn’t have pushed him away like that. What if you had scared him off? The magic can only do so much. 

Instead of moping around your house after work, hoping you bump into him. You decided to go to the grocery store strolling for some spices, your arsenal had been dwindling. 

Drifting off in your own little world, you hum with your headphones on as you try and reach for the cinnamon, of course, at the very back on the top shelf, you try and get it. You reach and reach on your highest tip toes looking like a fool, unable to use a summoning spell in public you curse whoever built these deep shelves. Just as you were about to look around to see if the coast was clear enough to use a little unharmful magic, you see a bare arm decorated with bats come from behind you grabbing the cinnamon sticks. 

“Hey do you mind-“ but you stop mid-sentence when they drop their hand down signalling for you to take it. 

“Thanks” You turn to see your knight in shining armour. Eddie.

“No big deal” he smiles. It’s a good smile. You observe him, losing focus you let down your guard. 

Eddie’s eyes widen with shock and you instantly put your guard back up. Your eyes must have given it away…

“You okay?” He asks placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you laugh it off, “why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Your eyes… they uh… they looked pink”

Pink?! Pink of all things! You mentally scold yourself.

“Oh uh. My contacts make your eyes irritated sometimes.” You play it cool… but Eddie and you both knew your irises were what changed colour, not the whites. 

“Uh-Hu” he nods, totally trying to not be freaked out, but also a little turned on? 

“Um,” you stand in awkward silence for half a minute. “Thank you for the help” You motion to the cinnamon and turn on your heel. 

“Wait!” He grazes your elbow now holding on too tight. 

“Can we, uh- I um.” He curses under his breath, “Would you like to go out with me?” He almost shouts and you. “Sorry. That was. You don’t have to…I just thought-“ 

“Eddie!” you cut him off.

He pauses realizing he never gave you a second to answer.

“I would love to.” You smile. Trying extra hard to stay focused because you know your eyes are a deep magenta under the glamour you hold. 

“Great! Okay,” he claps his hands together. “I‘ll call you!” He gestures his hand to make a phone by his ear and starts to walk away. 

“Wait! You don’t have my number!” You giggle. 

“Oh right,” he mentally scolds himself shaking his head shyly. 

After you gave Eddie your number, you cast a little memory spell just in case he misplaces the paper, (only for insurance purposes) did you make your way to Robin’s place. 

“Pink!” Robin screams.

“Keep your voice down!” 

Robin totally knew from the beginning that Eddie was the one you summoned. She was excited for you! She knows what love can bring to a person’s life. She and Nancy are lucky to experience it together, and she just wants you to be as happy as they are. 

“You got it B-A-D” she spells out. 

“I do not! I don’t even know him!”

“Pinnnnnnk” she leans in.

“Ugh.” You throw your hands up in defeat and you feel Clover snuggle herself into your lap. 

“Yeah, yeah, you were right.” You pet Clover's back. 

“So now what?” 

“He asked me out” You can’t help but smile, 

“Oh!” Robin points at you again. “Pink!”  She points at you. “I’m talking P-I-N-K!”

You never use your glamour around the coven because why would you? Your emotions could be read from a mile away. 

“What are you guys going to do?”

“I’m not sure, guess we wait to see where the magic takes us”

Nervously, you mix a soothing tonic to ease your racing heart. Deep down, you know that the fates have intertwined your paths for a reason... He feels like the one, yet the mystery surrounding him is overwhelming. This uncertainty fuels your anxiety.

This is the final first date you’ll ever experience, the last time you’ll open your heart to someone new. And for the first time, it feels as if everything is aligning perfectly. But lurking in the back of your mind is the daunting truth that you’ll eventually need to reveal your not-so-little secret.

What if he’s frightened by who you really are? What if he can’t accept it?

The thought of erasing his memories and losing the love of your life is almost too much to bear.

Getting ahead of yourself, lost in thought your attention is checked back into reality when your doorbell rings. With a beep breath, you answer the door. Stood there on your wooden porch was Eddie, looking so handsome. His hair was freshly washed, his shirt freshly ironed and tucked into his pants. He held a bouquet of small purple daisies and a nervous smile. 

“Woah,” he spoke as you opened the door. “You look incredible.” 

“Thank you, and so do you” You feel your cheeks fill with heat, and you pay extra attention to the glamour for your eyes. 

“Shall we?”

“Let’s” You hook your arm in his and he leads the way. 

“So where are you taking me?” You ask as you strap yourself in. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, other than witchy stuff” he blushed, “so I thought it was safe to go to the Christmas market.” 

That you were not expecting, and unfortunately for Eddie, he could read it in your face 

“Oh, god, you hate it. I swore all girls love Christmas-“

“No Eddie it’s sweet, it’s just I don’t celebrate Christmas. Well I do, but it’s not what you would think. We, my friends and I, celebrate Yule. It’s Pagan.” 

“Pagan,” He hums to himself, “that’s badass.” 

This makes you giggle, and Eddie sighs with relief that you’re not annoyed at him. 

“There are a lot of Pagan holidays that the Christians stole from us and made their own, but I don’t want to bore you with the details.” You wave your hand dismissively. 

“No, I’d love to learn.” He looks at you earnestly. 

“You sure? I kind of ruined your plans, I still don’t mind going! I do love a good gingerbread cookie and hot chocolate.” You smile. 

“You sure?” 

“I am!” 

“I’m honoured, Sorceress” he smiles and puts his truck into drive.

You had an expectedly wonderful time at the Christmas festival, all thanks to Eddie. He made sure you were snug and warm, wrapping you up so the chill wouldn’t bite. As soon as you stepped through the gates, he treated you to hot chocolate and a gingerbread man.

The two of you shared endless laughter while attempting to ice skate, your conversations flowing effortlessly. Hours slipped by, and before you knew it, your toes were numb, signalling it was time to head home.

Parting ways felt bittersweet; you longed to keep the conversation going all night, but deep down, you knew that would be too much for a first date. The bond you shared was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and it was clear Eddie felt it, too. You could almost see the enchanting connection that drew you together, like shimmering golden dust swirling in the air, creating an invisible thread that linked your hearts.

As Eddie bid you goodnight, he bravely leaned in for a gentle kiss. It was like time stopped, all the puzzle pieces had failed into place. Even it if it was chaste, it was sweet and tender, and you could sense his nervousness, but you let him take his time, savouring the moment. A broad smile spread across your face, silently assuring him that you felt the same spark he did. 

“I’ll call you.” he winks as he walks down the dirt driveway.

You pray to Hecate he does. 

You’ve lost count of the amount of dates you and Eddie have been on. It’s been almost three months and you couldn’t be happier, but the anxiety of telling him about who you are has been clawing at the back of your mind and it needs to be soon. Joyce had warned you that if you don’t take action within the next few weeks then the window of opportunity will be sealed forever. 

It seemed too soon like you were rushing into it. You hadn’t even said I love you, and yet you were expecting him to agree to a life of immortality with you?

Tonight, you had built up the courage to tell him about yourself. You invited Eddie over to your place. He has been here many times, but you glamoured most of the house to look somewhat normal. You hid your runes and sigils that were carved into your door frames, your potions room was made to look like a dining room, and your altar was locked away in the basement.  

But tonight all of that would be revealed, hopefully, it would be a small amount of magic that would t make him go running for the hills. 

As you looked around one last time, you heard Eddie approach the door. 

With a deep breath, you feel Clover rub against your leg for reassurance. 

“Thanks, babe.” You pick her up and open the door to see Eddie with his hand in a fist, like he was about to knock. 

“How do you always do that” he smiles pulling you in for a kiss. You’re not sure how but he always makes your head spin with even the simplest of kisses. 

“Call it intuition…” 

You guide him into the kitchen and offer him a drink. He asked for a beer, and as you pour it into a glass, you may or may not have slipped a drop of that relaxing tonic you conjured up into it, just for insurance purposes. 

“Mmm thank you, babe” Eddie smiles and you giggle at the a beer foam moustache on his face.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You lean in a kiss it away. 

“There, all better.” You lean back up to fix yourself a drink, a strong one. 

You’re unusually quiet as the night goes on, and Eddie can sense something is up. 

“You okay sweetheart?” He pushes your hair behind your shoulder as you both are curled up on the couch. 

“Yea… it’s just. I have to tell you something, and I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.” You twiddle with your almost empty glass in hand. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that? Eddie’s reassurance wasn’t helping, but it was nice that he truly thought that.

You take a big, deep breath in, trying to think back to how you rehearsed your lines in your head, and you begin.

“I want you to know that I care about you a lot.” You don’t miss Eddie’s eyes light up as you continue, “and I know what I am about to share is not what you’re going to expect, but you have to believe me that it changes nothing.” You look him deep in the eyes. 

“You’re freaking me out, babe.” He laughs nervously, so you take both his hands in yours. 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise.” 

He chuckles uncomfortably once again.

“I’m not… like… other women.” 

“No, you are not.” He wiggles his brows trying to lighten the mood.” 

“Eddieeee” you draw out his name, “I’m serious.” 

“Sorry, I‘ll be a good boy… for now.” You can’t help but roll your eyes.

Eddie laughs at your dramatics, but when your eyes roll back, making eye contact with him, he notices they’re not the same colour. They’re deep orange, almost auburn. 

“Sweetheart, what’s going on” he tries to pull his hands away but you hold them tight.

“I told you, baby, I’m not like other women, I’m… different.” You thought letting the glamour of your eyes would help soften the blow but now you’re not so sure. 

“Your eyes! They.. they’re orange!” 

Eddie can’t look away, his face contorted with confusion. 

“It’s because I’m anxious.” 

“What does that mean?” He can’t look away. “Please, I want to understand.” 

It wasn’t like he was scared more confused than anything. 

“I’m a Witch, Eddie.” And with that you let the house revert to how it is supposed to be. 

A guest of wind blew through the house and with it was unveiled the old wood, deep rich jewel tones painted on the walls, tapestries, the portraits of old coven members long gone, the broom sweeping by itself, the clean dishes being levitated to their correct spots.

Eddie was frozen, his jaw was moving up and down but no words were coming out. He looked around the changed room frantically but also did not want to look away from you. It’s not that he thought you would hurt him, no. He felt things for you that he’s never felt for one singular person… but now he isn’t so sure. 

“This is insane” Eddie stood and your heart broke a little as you saw him start walking. Almost running to the door. 

“Eddie, please! Let me explain! Don’t be scared!”

“Don’t be scared?! There is a broom moving by itself” he shouts. 

“Please” you beg but it was of no use. 

“Just, give me a second” he spoke before slamming the door behind him he leaves you alone in your big empty house. 

Your eyes well up as you feel clover brush your ankles. Nudging you towards the door. 

She was telling you to go after him, but how could you? You terrified him, your worst fears coming to reality. 

“Clove, I can’t” 

Yes, you can. She spoke to you telepathically. 

As your familiar nudged you with her fluffy little head you stepped closer and closer toward the door. 

Through the stained glass you could see a figure pacing up and down the dirt driveway. 

“He didn’t leave” you whispered out loud. 

See, you look down and Clover is eying you. 

You decided to put the glamour back up, in case your eyes still freaked him out. 

“Eddie” you call out tentatively. 

“Babe, just… I need a minute” his breathing was heavy, his face contorted with confusion and he was mumbling to himself. 

To think you’re the crazy one in this situation…

On the bright side, he still called you babe, and not by your name. 

“Okay,” you stand awkwardly on the porch and wait for him to calm down.

After what felt like hours Eddie built up the courage to glance at you. His heart fluttered at the sight of you. Not because he was scared or nervous but because he knew you were it for him. Even after he digested the bomb you just dropped on him, he knew he wanted to be with you. 

“You are one freaky girl” he pointed as he walked towards the porch steps.

“I thought you liked freaky” You can’t help but flirt. It came so naturally to him. 

“You have no idea” he pulled you in for a hug. A suffocating, bone-crushing hug. One that told you he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Ok let’s talk,” he pulled away and you led him back in the house. 

You started from the beginning, explaining the coven, how your parents were also magical, but had been off gallivanting through the Betwixed realm for years now. 

“So, are you like 100 years old?” He smirks, and you smack his bicep. 

“No, I’m exactly how old I told you I am” 

“Sorry,” he laughed. 

You explain how the magic works, and he asks you if you’ve ever used any on him. 

“The only thing I have used in you is a tonic to calm you but it obviously didn’t work. Guess I needed more for you,” you half laugh to yourself. 

“That’s it? Really?” 

“Technically, yes.” you pause. and he waits silently for you to explain. “I performed an enchantment to find you.” You twiddle the hem of your skirt nervously. 

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t you, specifically, more like a nudge to point us both in the right direction.”

“So that’s why I had that feeling to go somewhere and I hadn’t known why? That’s why I walked into your shop!” He snapped his fingers as he put the pieces together.

“Yeah,” you smile. 

“So you desperately wanted me?” He moved closer, inviting your space. 

“Desperate?” You gasp.

“Yes, little Witch” he placed a gentle finger on your chin, nudging you to look at him. 

“We would have found one another eventually, it was written in the starts. Isn’t that what your cards told us?” 

“But we are running out of time” you confess. 

“What?” Eddie pulled back.

“There is this… rule, I guess you could call it? If a witch finds a mortal match, then they only have a small window to perform a ritual to make their loved one immortal, like them.” 

“Immortal?” 

“Yes, Eddie.” You sigh, “I can live forever if I want. We have life-extending magic, I don’t age the same. Our aging slows down as of the twentieth year of a witch’s life. I will look like this for the next sixty-five years probably.”

“Woah” Eddie whispers. 

“And the thought of us going through life together with you growing old and dying.” You choke back tears. 

“Hey, hey” Eddie soothed, and you took a deep breath. 

“But there is something we can do.” You sniffle. 

“I know it’s so soon, and a bit crazy. But I can promise you forever with me if that’s what you choose” 

Eddie’s eyes widen at the offering, “you don’t have to give me an answer now, but I will need to know soon, maybe a month or so.” 

“Then what?”

“Then I perform the ritual, or I wipe your memory clean of any of this” You can’t help your voice from cracking. 

“Oh,” Eddie looks down in disappointment. 

“Yeah….” A single purple tear falls down your cheek. 

You look up at Eddie and he sees your eyes are a deep blue, so blue Eddie knows what that feeling means. Sadness, despair, suffering. 

“So I live forever with you, or we break up?” 

“Yeah,” you sombrely nod your head. 

“What if I choose to live forever then, let’s say in a hundred years we decide to break up… then what?”

“That won’t happen, it doesn’t work like that.” 

“How do you know?” 

“The fates decided Eddie. When I cast the Amorem enchantment it draws the best two people suited for one another. Think of it like a soul mate match. We will never find another one suited for us.”

“What if I just want to live a normal life with you and not be immortal?” 

“Then I’m going to look like this and you’ll be a wrinkled old prune… and eventually I would watch you die and know that I’ll never have another love like ours.” 

“That dosen’t seem any better.” He sighs

“No, it’s much worse actually” You play with Eddie’s fingers as he contemplates his future. 

“I think I’m going to need something a bit stronger than this beer” he laughs half heartedly. 

“I have just the thing” 

After you whipped up a mood-boosting elixir, your night with Eddie became much easier to get through. The damper had been lifted as you and Eddie got drunk off the potion, boosting your serotonin levels. 

Eddie had never been so carefree and you were begging to feel much more positive about your future with Eddie. Maybe it was false hope in the fates, but you also trusted your magic. 

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie and you were in your bed, tucked in after a long night of just wanting to be close to each other.

“Sure” Eddie scoops you into his chest. 

“Are mermaids real? Because I would love to— ouch!” 

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence” you had pinched his nipple. Were you jealous? Maybe a little, but mermaids were vile creatures, nothing like Disney cracked them up to be. 

“Are they real?” Eddie flinched. 

“Unfortunately” 

“Cool!”

“What about Vampires?”

“Yep.”

“Werewolves?”

“Yep.”

“Unicorns?”

“Come on Eddie don’t be ridiculous” you snort.

“What? So witches, vampires, mermaids and werewolves are all real but the universe draws the line at unicorns?!” 

You burst out into a fit of giggles and before Eddie can even stop to think about what he is staying the words come tumbling out. 

“God, I love you.”  

The room falls quiet, no longer are you laughing. 

“I uh- I mean-“

“I love you, too” You lean down to kiss him. 

That nearly invisible force connecting you was now clear as day, to you at least. The magical pull that binds the two of you is now completed, and will never be broken. 

A faint glow filled the room as Eddie and your lips connected, a warmth was felt throughout your whole body, you were sure Eddie felt it too. The magical thread that connected you, whether Eddie accepted the fates or not… even if you wiped his memory of you, you both would still be able to feel it. No matter how long or how far apart you were. 

“Really? You love me?” Eddie asks. 

“I just asked you to spend forever with me, and you’re questioning if I love you?” 

“I just wanted to hear you say it again.” His lips brushed yours ever so slightly. 

“I love you, Eddie Munson” 

“I love you, little Witch.”

You let down your guard, the magic swirled in flecks of silver and gold light around the two of you as you lay on top of Eddie’s chest. His eyes widen at the sight above him. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever encountered. 

“Woah” he gasped, awestruck at the floating lights. “I think I could get used to this magic thing”

You let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Like a weight was lifted once you heard Eddie’s acceptance. Finally, you felt hopeful about your future. 

It’s been a week and a half since your confession to Eddie and things are going surprisingly well. His fascination is ever-growing as he keeps coming up with questions to ask you. The nature of your reality was sinking in, he was enamoured with the thought of you being supernatural. He wanted to learn, and you were happy to teach you were happy he accepted you for who you are and not pushing you away from fear. 

You hadn’t brought up the offer since that night, you were waiting for him to let you know his decision,  but you were hopeful because of his fascination. 

Today was a lazy day, you both have the rare day off at the same time, so Eddie was over and you were cuddling on the couch when he spoke up.

“I want to do it.”

“Do what, babe?”

“Forever with you.”

“Really?” a broad smile spreads across your face. nothing could keep you from your eyes turning yellow. 

Eddie still wasn’t quite used to all your magical quirks. However, he loved that your true mood could be read just by looking into your eyes. He loved learning what each colour meant, especially when they were red. 

“Really.” Eddie gave you a chaste kiss before pulling away to ask how the whole spell thing worked. 

“I think you’re going to like it.” You smirk knowingly.

Sometime later, you were finally finished downstairs in your altar room. The circle of protection chalked on the floor. The muddled herbs, bark and flowers boiled down into a paste, and your grimour propped open onto the spell you needed. 

The room was only lit by candlelight, twenty or so, spread across the room. 

You reach for Eddie’s hand and guide him down the stairs. 

“You must be sure this is one hundred percent what you want. It will not work if you are not willing to give up your mortality.”

“I’ve never been so sure about anyone.” 

“Okay, let us begin” You smirk, knowing Eddie has no idea what he is getting himself into. 

“Strip, please” 

“Oh,” he raises a brow. Then he sees it. Your red eyes. “Ohhh” He quickly discards his clothing. 

You watch as his cock is already stiffening. 

“Now be a good boy and step into the circle and lay down,” you ask while also discarding your garments. 

Eddie quickly obeys your orders. 

“Would you like me to explain the steps before or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“Will it hurt?”

“No” 

“Surprise me.” Eddie didn’t think his cock could be any harder. The anticipation was foreplay enough. 

You begin the ritual with a deep breath, stepping into the circle with your crystal bowl you straddle Eddie. You scoop the paste you created and create sigils over eddies chest with them while chanting in a language Eddie didn’t recognize. 

“Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty.” 

Your hips start to gride on Eddie’s as you get lost in the chant. Your magic starts to take over your body as you get lost in all of it. The feeling, the love, the magic. Your red eyes were now glowing pure white. Eddie gazed up at you in awe as you continued chanting. He was not sure if you were still here with him or if something had taken over your body. 

“Fuck.” Eddie slips and your hand covers his mouth before your pussy slips his cock inside. 

Possessed by the magic you were channelling, your body performs the spell. The faster you chanted, the faster you fucked Eddie. 

Sex with you had been amazing, but nothing had compared to this. He loved the thrill of this, there was no way he would change his mind.

Eddie tried to tell you he was going to come, unsure if he was allowed to yet. But your hand still muffled his mouth.

You felt him deep in your gut, His thick cock stretching your walls, hitting every spot you needed. Euphoria was essential to the spell and Eddie sure was holding up his end of it. 

You heard muffled mumbles come for Eddie and you released your hand from his mouth. You were so far into the chanting that you couldn’t be stopped now even if Eddie tried to interrupt. 

“Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty. Fata, cape hoc humanum meum scrinium amoris. Immortalis est sicut ego. Meus amor, mea lux. Vitam aeternam tribuo ei. Da ei eterinty.” 

Eddie thinks those words will be etched into his memory forever. 

His hands roam your body before planting them on your hips. He couldn’t help himself he had to have it harder. Planting his feet on the ground, Eddie snaps his hips up into you, meeting your pace. The wet sounds of skin-on-skin echo through the basement walls, faster and faster, louder and louder. Your voice trumps the delicious sounds of sex, and then it hits you both. Your mind-numbing, explosive orgasms rip through each of you. Your bodies shake, and you let out a loud cry of pure bliss.

A blinding white light fills the room, blowing out all the candles you lit before they relate themselves. You collapse on top of Eddie, exhausted by the amount of magic youve performed. 

Breathless you and Eddie stay connected. 

“It is done?” Eddie asks in a daze, not sure if he is supposed to feel any different. 

Without enough energy to speak, you nod your head against Eddie’s chest. 

“You’re incredible, little Witch.”  and that is the last thing you remember before falling asleep. 

You wake up, your cheek cemented to Eddie’s tattoo-clad chest. 

“There she is.” Eddie storks your hair. 

“How long was I out?” you mumble, rubbing the sleep from our eyes. 

“An hour, I can only guess.” 

Eddie shifted and you felt him still inside of you so you grind your soar hips so he slips further in.

“You’re a succubus.” 

“You wish” You kiss his neck. “How do you feel?” 

“Like I could move a mountian.” Eddie sighs as you grind down on him, cock growing with each push. 

“Mmmm, good” you hum. 

Eddie could no longer take it, even though he had the best orgasm of his life an hour ago, you were like a drug to him. He wanted more. 

Flipping you around so you are on your back, Eddie spreads your legs further apart, watching how his cock buried deep within you.

You admire the now permanent sigil etched into his skin like a tattoo. You didn’t even know if Eddie was aware of the new ink that came with forever existence, but that all gets erased when his hips jerk so deeply within you that your eyes turn a colour Eddie has never seen before. The most beautiful deep purple. 

“Baby" you moan. 

“Fuck, little Witch,” you can’t help but clamp down on him. 

“Oh you like that don’t you, Sorceress.” 

“Y-yes” you tremble.” 

Eddie can’t believe how powerful he feels; you’ve granted him this gift and he needs to show his appreciation in return. 

He pulls out, and you plead, but not for long because he buries his face between your legs. Your sweet slick coats his tongue as it dances around your clit. 

“More” You plead. Your hips gride down on his chin, and the stubble on his cheeks scrapes your inner thighs. 

“I’ll give you anything you want.” He was yours to serve. His tounge swirls around your extra sensitive clit.

“Make me cum.” 

A wave of pleasure hits you hard when Eddie pushes his cock back inside your needy cunt. With each thrust, he works himself through your orgasm, making your head spin; wave after wave consumes your body. You feel his hands graze your nipples, tweaking them and making you clench down on him even tighter. 

With Eddie’s head thrown back, sweat dripping down his chest glittering the candle light he looked like a deity. 

After one more final thrust Eddie collapses on top of you. 

“That was amazing.” He nuzzles into your neck and you can’t help but agree. 

When Eddie finally pulls out, you feel a rush of release come out with him. 

“You’re a messy little Witch, aren’t you?”

“Me?” 

“Yes” he slips a finger through your slit collecting your combined cum and you jerk away, your cunt all so sensitive. 

“Well, you’re the one who asked for it” you smirk. 

“I would be an idiot to deny being with you like this for eternity”

“You think so?” 

“Know so.”

tags : @ghostlyfleur @veemoon @abitchyouhate @thewayitalknj @mediocredreams @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth @daisy-munson @strawberrycheesecakedelight @just-random-thoughts-and-things @oneforthemunny @gagasbee @abirdinthehouse @saintlvcifer @hauntedfawnn @eerielamb @munson-blurbs @hellfire--cult @andvys @pollenallergie

[rumplereids]

research purposes.

tags: spencer reid x reader. tech analyst!reader. mentions of 50 shades of grey. bau ladies are like gossiping wine moms. fluff & crack, bcos spencer has been thru enough already. referenced/mentioned sexual acts but nothing explicit. a/n: got inspired by aj cook implying mgg was reading 50 shades + the table read of cm where mgg’s name card was “matthew 50 shades of gray gubler” masterlist. requests are open !

The team is on the jet home from a consultation in San Francisco. Everybody’s either dozing off (Emily and Derek), eating (Rossi), or doing paperwork (Hotch, as usual). JJ is scrolling on her phone, catching up on the pictures and videos Will sent of Henry when she notices something very bizarre.

“Reid, are you reading 50 Shades of Grey?”

“Huh?” he looks up from the paragraph he was reading. Something about not making love and only fucking hard. Or whatever drivel he’s suffering for you.

“I didn’t peg you the type to be reading romance or erotica.”

“It’s for research.”

JJ quirks a brow Spencer doesn’t see. His eyes already returned to the book in his hands.

“Research? For Y/N?”

“Yep,” Spencer turns a page.

JJ continues to gape at him. She wants to press for more details, but with a shake of her head, decides she was better off not knowing the intricacies of the relationship of people she considers her siblings. No matter how baffled she is by the fact that Spencer Reid is reading 50 Shades of Grey, she doubts that she’d want to dip a toe in that rabbit hole. However, she has no qualms of bringing up this certain knowledge in the near future.

Spencer was in a rush to finish his case load for the day. It’s your day off, so he’s doing anything he can so that he can go home earlier than usual. With you out for the day, he can’t even pop into your office to bug you, talk your ear off, or have an impromptu make out session. It was so sad, really.

He’s down to his last three folders when Derek attempts to get his attention.

“Pst! Pretty boy,” Morgan whisper-yells.

“Yes?”

“How’s Y/N?”

Spencer’s a bit perplexed by the question. While it’s not unusual for Derek to worry about your well-being, he finds it a bit weird for Derek to be asking such a question at that exact moment. As far as he knows, you texted Derek 15 minutes ago about mold on the street that you insist looked like the aforementioned man. That was the last time Spencer talked to you as well.

“She’s fine. Enjoying her day off.”

There’s a big grin crawling across Derek’s face. Such a look on a man like Derek Morgan spelled trouble. He looks like he knows something that Spencer doesn’t. Spencer’s starting to get cautious.

“Anything exciting happened to you guys this weekend?” Derek asks with that shit-eating, I-know-something-you-don’t-know grin.

Spencer raises a brow.

“Not much. The usual,” Spencer flips a page in his file.

Morgan hums, “Ah, yes. The usual.”

Spencer looks up at Derek, perplexed. Having no idea what in the world Morgan is trying to get to.

“Late night?” Derek continues. Spencer shuts the folder in his hands.

“Are you trying to insinuate something?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Spencer rolls his eyes and returns his attention to his work. Completely ignoring the chuckles coming from Morgan.

A few days later, Spencer is making his second cup of coffee at the office kitchenette, bracing himself for another round of paperwork when he hears somebody rush into the room. He turns from the counter to see you, flushed and embarrassed?

“Hey, darling—”

“Why did Penelope ask me how it’s like to have my own Christian Grey?”

“What?” Spencer puts his mug down to turn his full attention on you.

“She barged into my office, asking me what kind of BDSM we’re into!” you devolve into a sort of whisper-yell, eyes shifting as to check if there were other people around. The two of you were alone in the area.

“Why would she ask that?”

“I don’t know? Something about you researching BDSM for me?”

Spencer shuts his eyes in realization, “JJ.”

“JJ? What’s she got to do with this?”

“A week ago, on the jet home from San Francisco. I was reading 50 Shades of Grey.”

You take a pause, “You read 50 Shades? I thought you said it was complete nonsense?”

“My opinion hasn’t changed on that. But I overheard you and Garcia giggling over the movie’s actor… I wanted to see what it was all about.” He tries to be nonchalant with what he’s saying. You completely melt into a puddle.

“Oh, Spence. That is the cutest and sweetest thing that has ever happened to me.”

Spencer blushes red at the comment. All these years together, and you never fail to make him feel so lovestruck and bashful.

He clears a throat, “The BDSM in the book is so atrocious. Have you read it? Or are you only interested in the movie?”

“Just the movie,” you say with a grin.

“Their lack of communication is astounding. It’s completely far off from the BDSM we’re into.”

There’s a gasp behind you. You turn to see Garcia at the entryway of the kitchenette, one mug in hand, the other hand pressed against her chest.

“Oh , I knew it. Ya’ll nasty.”

“Penelope—” you start to speak. She cuts you off.

“I didn’t believe JJ at first when she said Spencer was reading 50 Shades for research. I mean, really, Spencer Reid and BDSM? Never thought to correlate those two things ever in my life,” Penelope rambles, and then mid-thought, she turns to you, “So you do have your own Christian Grey! That’s so sexy— I don’t think that’s the right word considering it’s Reid—” this earns a snort from the man watching amused, standing against the counter, “Have you recreated any scenes from the books?”

“Penelope!” you say, aghast.

“I mean, if Spencer’s using 50 Shades to spice up your sexy times then—”

Spencer begins to laugh. You turn to face him, in disbelief that he can laugh at your mortification.

“Trust me, Penelope,” he says, “we don’t need 50 Shades to spice up our sex lives.”

“Spencer!” You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now. Penelope looks as if she’s hearing the greatest gossip scandal the world has ever produced.

“50 Shades is tame compared to us.”

“What?!” a third voice enters the conversation. Emily and JJ enter the kitchenette. Emily looked a bit confused, JJ looks just about ready to shit on you too.

You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide away from Spencer’s laughter. Emily, JJ, and Penelope start to bounce comments and choice words between the three of them. You hear words such as ‘unbelievable’, ‘kinky’, and the real kicker, ‘Dr. Reid will see you now’. You want to dig yourself into a hole.

Hands grip your hips, squeezing in silent comfort. Without removing your hands from your face, you mumble, “This is all your fault.” Spencer laughs once more, hands squeezing your hips one more time before he turns to pick up his coffee mug.

He moves to leave the kitchen, turning to you with a smug look on his face before he says, “Laters, baby.”

You refuse to acknowledge the three ladies descending on you like a pack of wolves.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite @khxna

[solxamber]

Platonic heartslabyul with fem!Yuu who managed to memorize ALL the rules because she hyperfixated on it. It's a new universe so why not study their customs?

it ended up gender neutral, hope that's okay!

Memorizing the Queen's Rules with Heartslabyul

Ace Trappola

At first, Ace thought your ability to quote the rules on demand was a joke. Then, it became the bane of his existence.

"Hey, it’s not a big deal if I sneak just one tart out of here!" he’d say, already halfway to the door.

"Rule #142: No pastries shall leave the premises of the tea party unless explicitly authorized," you’d insist, crossing your arms and blocking his path like an unyielding wall of justice.

Ace groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. "Why do you even know that? Who memorizes all the rules?!"

"Someone who doesn’t want to end up collared for your nonsense."

He tried to get clever, testing your limits by bending obscure rules. Once, he brought a banana to a tea party.

"You realize Rule #53 bans bananas at tea parties, right?"

Ace stared, mouth agape. "That’s not real. You’re making that up."

"It’s real. Page 47 of the rulebook," you replied with a satisfied grin.

At that moment, Ace realized he could never outsmart you. Begrudgingly, he admitted, "You’re terrifying. I’m never crossing you."

Of course, that didn’t stop him from trying to prank you. But the look on his face every time you countered him with the correct rule was priceless.

Deuce Spade

Deuce was equal parts impressed and intimidated by your encyclopedic knowledge of Heartslabyul law.

"Wait, so… Rule #317 says I can’t use my left hand to pour tea unless it’s Tuesday?" he asked, staring at the teapot like it had betrayed him.

"Correct. It’s Wednesday, so put it down," you replied, barely glancing up from your notes.

Deuce’s determination to follow the rules skyrocketed thanks to you. He started coming to you for advice on everything.

"Is it okay if I use a spoon to eat this tart instead of a fork? I don’t want to mess up!"

You paused. "Technically, Rule #223 says forks are preferred, but spoons are acceptable if no forks are available."

Deuce sighed in relief. "Thanks, prefect. You’re like my personal tutor for dorm survival."

He became your staunchest supporter, often citing your knowledge to back up his own actions. When Ace tried to sneak an extra tart, Deuce would immediately shout, "Rule #142! You can’t do that!"

"Juice, no one likes a snitch," Ace grumbled.

"I like them," you said, giving Deuce a thumbs-up.

Deuce beamed.

Trey Clover

Trey found your obsession with the rules both amusing and endearing.

"You’re the first person I’ve met who rivals Riddle’s knowledge of the rulebook," he said one day as you adjusted the spacing between roses in the garden.

"Someone has to uphold the standards," you replied, squinting at a rosebush. "This one’s two centimeters too close to the other."

Trey chuckled, leaning against his spade. "You know, not even Riddle notices stuff like that."

"Then it’s a good thing I’m here," you said matter-of-factly, pulling out your measuring tape.

Trey quickly realized you were also a fantastic mediator. Whenever Riddle’s temper flared, you calmly cited rules to de-escalate the situation.

"Rule #405: forgiveness is encouraged for first offenses," you’d say, placing a hand on Riddle’s shoulder.

"Fine," Riddle would huff, storming off.

Trey gave you a knowing smile. "You’re a lifesaver."

Cater Diamond

Cater thought you were hilarious. Your ability to recite rules on command made you a walking meme in his eyes.

"So, you’re like, a human rulebook?" he asked one day, phone in hand.

"Pretty much."

"Say something rule-y for my Magicam!" he said, already recording.

You rolled your eyes but played along. "Rule #98: no singing at tea parties unless the Queen of Hearts requests it."

Cater doubled over laughing.

He constantly teased you about your rule knowledge but secretly found it impressive. Anytime he needed an excuse to get out of trouble, he’d turn to you.

"Uh, is there a rule that says I can skip cleaning duty if my phone dies?"

"No, but nice try," you replied.

Still, he loved having you around, especially when you used your rule expertise to put Ace in his place.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle was in awe of you.

"You’ve memorized all 810 rules?" he asked, eyes wide.

"Of course," you said, shrugging. "Why wouldn’t I?"

Riddle’s respect for you skyrocketed. You became his unofficial right-hand person, often helping him enforce the rules.

"Rule #327 clearly states that tea must be brewed at exactly 96 degrees Celsius," you said during one tea party.

"Exactly!" Riddle exclaimed. "Finally, someone understands!"

You were the only one who could occasionally talk him down when he went overboard.

"Rule #512 says punishments should fit the crime," you reminded him gently.

Riddle adjusted his gloves, looking sheepish. "You’re absolutely correct. As always."

He even started consulting you for rule interpretations, trusting your judgment implicitly.

"Do you think Rule #600 applies here?"

"Only if you interpret it broadly," you replied.

"Brilliant," Riddle said, nodding.

To him, you were a paragon of order and discipline—a perfect addition to Heartslabyul.

Masterlist

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

FAVOURITISM. [PART ONE]

tangerine x fem!reader

wc. 1956 summary. tangerine was put out of work following the events of an accident. as a result, he created his own business, applying all of his knowledge. you work as a secretary cross technical assistant for him and working very closely to the big bad boss catches the eyes of your peers. one day he notices a change in your workwear — proving to you, he’s been paying a lot more attention than you originally thought. boss x secretary. disclaimer. the images at the bottom are just a reference of what I picture the reader wearing. they are not a reflection of how I write or see yn (colour and body type) it’s merely a way to show you what I envisioned

MY 2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY! it’s only right that I write for tan seeing as it all started with him xx also a big big loving thank you to @pretty-little-mind33 for the idea and brainstorming with me. literally would not have done this without her <33

SERIES MASTERLIST

⎯ ☆ ⎯

It wasn’t often that you’d find yourself not looking forward to work — feeling anxious to get in. Your love for what you do always seeming to overshadow any discomfort.

For the last several months, you’ve been working as a technical assistant cross secretary for your boss, Tangerine. No one knew of his real name, and you were starting to think that’s the way it’ll always be. 

Last night after your shift, you were brought to HR for an unexpected meeting, being called up on a dress code violation. Multiple complaints made around the office about your bright tights and flowy shirts, being told that it was ‘unfit for work’ and a ‘distraction.’ You knew you weren’t exactly well liked around the office — the sneers and scowls made your way making that evident. But never did you think they would go so far out of their way to complain about you. 

Their dislike for you felt territorial — judgy eyes always seeming to follow you as you attend to the needs and wants of your boss. The attention you gain from the broody, grumpy man in charge, simply asks and tasks you agreed to in your job description. The repetitive calls for your name only ever consisting of tea requests or computer help. It left you feeling confused and isolated, constantly wondering why they hated you so much. You were only ever doing your job. Doing what was asked of you. 

So, as you sit in your car before the start of the workday, you use your spare few moments to collect yourself, preparing for those same judgemental stares. You look down at your legs briefly, noticing the lack of colour — your usual patterned tights now being replaced with grey, drab trousers. All of your vibrancy and exuberancy —personality— stolen when told to make this change. 

You exhale, giving yourself one last second of sanity before you’re getting out of the car, juggling your bags and cups of coffee in hand. Stepping into the building and into the elevator with a small crowd, you become invisible, blending in with everyone — becoming what you’ve always dreaded: a lifeless office zombie, sharing the same apathetic, dull expression with all those around you. 

You reach your floor and exit with the few remaining others in the lift. You deviate from your colleagues and head for your bosses office at the back, giving his door a couple of knocks. 

“Yeah?” he calls out, and you slowly push the door open.

His usual rigged, intimidating gaze softens as his eyes fall on you through the gap, his attention landing on you over the top of his computer.

“You’re late,” he says, the words a reprimand for most, but for you they were more of an observation — a casual, flyaway statement. 

“I know, I’m sorry. Traffic was a nightmare,” you apologise as you step into his office, avoiding his eyes like you were ashamed. 

You look down to the coffees in hand and pass him the one without the lipstick mark, extending an arm as you move to stand beside his desk.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens,” he reassures. And as he takes the cup from your hold, he glances down, noticing the lack of your familiar flamboyance. “What’re you wearing?”

You look down confused, brows pulling together as if to show you didn’t understand his question.

“The trousers,” he looks up at you, gaze almost harsh. “Why're you wearing them?” 

He has never seen you wear trousers.

“Thought I’d shake things up,” you shrug with your lie, not wanting him to know the real reason.

You didn’t want to give your peers more reason to hate you by tattling to the boss — complaining about them being mean to you, so you decided against it, keeping him from the truth. Though it’s far harder than you anticipated, his eyes ever so demanding as he remains fixed on you above. 

“So no smiley face is also part of you shaking things up?” he questions, showing you the blank cup — your usual sharpie smileys nowhere to be seen. 

You wince slightly, embarrassed by the whole ordeal. You weren’t sure if the embarrassment was from the fact he noticed or that you forgot. But humiliation was felt either way.

“It’ll save us the ballache if you tell me why,” he takes a sip of his drink and places it aside, giving you his full attention. “I can call a staff meeting, but I reckon they’ll get suspicious after seeing us talk,” he playfully blackmails, offering you a faint smile to show you his bribe holds no such malice.

You turn and look out through the window of his office, picking up on dozens of sets of eyes glued to you through the gap of his blinds. All of which briskly turn away upon the glance of Tangerine, his eyeline following yours — scaring your peers back into work.

“What’d they do?” he asks, redirecting your focus back to him.

“I just got a complaint, that’s all,” you shrug, trying to minimise it as much as possible.

“Why?” he asks bluntly, neck craning to keep your eyes on him.

“They don’t like the way I dress apparently,” you laugh faintly, the noise sounding far more hurt than you intended. “I mean I get it,” you deflect, trying not to slip into a habit of seeking him for assurance when people in the office turn against you. “I get what they mean.”

He’s quiet as he looks over you, head shaking disapprovingly as he mumbles something incoherent. He inhales deeply and then coughs to clear his throat, sounding like he was preparing for something. 

“I gotta meet with some people, but I’ll see what I can do,” he says as he stands, reaching for his briefcase. “Don’t let these miserable lot get to you,” he smiles weakly as he collects his coffee cup, heading towards the door until he stops, and turns around to face you. “They hate that I don’t hate you, that’s all.” 

Your eyes follow after him as he leaves his office, leaving you standing there alone to process his words. You’ve never really picked up on the hinted favouritism like your colleagues have — never seeming to notice the allowances and kindness your peers aren’t granted with. But you were only ever doing as told, why would that warrant any special treatment? 

And with that thought in mind, you head towards your desk just outside of his office, setting your things on your neatly, organised table. Placing your hot drink in his designated spot besides your computer, you log on — attending to emails and to things on your extensive to do list.

A few hours pass you by.

You’re interrupted from all work when you feel the presence of someone standing behind you, your boss now back from his meeting with a pile of papers in hand.

“Need you to sort these out for me,” he says as places the stack beside your hand. “Please,” he adds, trying to keep up with the habit he’s trying to enforce by showing his appreciation. But only to you.

You look down to the pile, noticing a gap in between the blank, plain papers. You look up at him briefly, like you were asking permission and then your eyes fall back onto the stack. And as you go to lift the upper chunk of papers, Tangerine is moving from you and into his office, a new bag —a shopping bag— held within the hand of his briefcase. You take little to no notice and turn your attention back to the pile, a square paper bag hiding within the fake forms. The perfect cloak of disguise. 

You didn’t need to look inside to know what it was, the warm circle giving it away immediately. It was a cookie. You swivel in your chair to look into his office, his eyes already on you through the gap in his blinds. The gap you’re now starting to believe holds another purpose. You smile at him sweetly, mouthing thanks before resuming with your work — wanting to get it all done before the end of the day.

And as five pm soon rolls around and as everyone begins logging off and packing up for home, you turn to look back at Tangerine, a pained expression on his face as he rolls his shoulder. His old injury you know very little about seeming to give him grief.  

The floor begins to clear and you collect your things, walking those few steps until you’re in front of your boss's door. You give it a light tap and enter when welcomed.

“You off?” he asks, turning his attention to you in his doorframe. 

“Yep,” you smile, lingering for a moment. “Thank you for the cookie, by the way.”

“It’s alright,” he gently smiles, head bowing almost bashfully. “Hang on and I’ll walk you out. Don’t want you out in the dark by yourself.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you deflect, not wanting to be a bother. “Really it’s okay, my car is only outside.”

He shakes his head at you as he gives his desk a quick tidy, packing things up for the night. Tangerine stands and collects his belongings, picking up his coat from the rack and small bag from the side before he’s heading to you, guiding you along. 

You each walk towards the open elevators and head in, standing side by side —close— within the confined space. 

He twists inwards to face you. “I uh,” he starts, extending the shopping bag from earlier to you. “I picked something up for you.”

Your brows tug in the middle, looking up at him like you were questioning the reasoning why. You take it from his hand and look inside. 

“No,” you whisper, sheer disbelief in your voice as you pull out the gift. “These are beautiful! Where did you even find them?” you question, looking over the tights, marvelling at the pattern. 

He keeps his head cast downwards, looking between his feet as he smiles, appreciating your appreciation. “It’s a secret.”

The elevator dings, cutting your time short and you both look at each other, the glance brief. He holds his arm out, gesturing for you to step off first,  and you do. You linger, waiting for him to join so you could walk besides one another. 

The walk towards your car is slow, as if both of you are trying to savour the short journey, hang on to it. Small chuckles and shy, stolen glances being the only form of communication during your minute long walk.

You reach into your bag and pull out your keys to unlock your car, the dozen chains and charms jingling and clattering with the movement of your hand. 

Tangerine reaches for your door, pulling the handle to open it for you — nodding you inside. You smile at him sweetly as you get in, placing your bags on the passenger seat. 

“You get home safe, alright?” he says, grinning softly.

“I will,” you look down coyly, smile faint.

He nods once. “Good.”

“See you monday?” 

“Mhm-hm,” he hums, expression gentle as he goes to close your door. “Have a good weekend,” he says before shutting you inside.

You exhale shakily within the quiet sanctuary of your car, the lack of noise allowing your mind to run rampant with repeats from the last few minutes. You glance down to your gift, trying to process it all until your eyes land on the tag — his name, his real name squiggled on the note.

The favouritism you’ve struggled to notice becomes as clear as day. Every interaction from the past now being thought of differently as you look back on it all. 

⎯ ☆ ⎯

in my mind she’s very penelope garcia/ louisa clark/ jessica day/ phoebe buffay coded (more so in dress sense) she’s cute and i love her

[ PART TWO ]

[inuiiwonderland]

Empire

Being crowned as empress of the Yuunkaedangon empire at the age of 17, you begin to start loving the new status and power. But it soon gets a bit boring and demanding the moment you turned 18. Harem? Heirs? Tf not!

Possible Au??

Words: 1.5k

Fem reader but I don’t really say any she or her in this.

-

One thing you hated since you were young was tradition. Being told that you can’t do things your way because it wasn’t “appropriate” or “right”. The day you were crowned as empress of Yuunkaedangon, you were only 17 years old. There was a huge celebration that day that lasted 4 days.

It was fun at first. Being in control, power, money, respect, especially at a young age. But soon after, it started becoming…rather a bit boring and annoying. The higher ups wouldn’t stop nagging you about what your next big step is. Most importantly, when are you going to start your harem?

You scoff at the idea. You just turned 18 and they are already asking -demanding- about possible lovers and heirs?

How annoying

Now your kingdom isn't shy when it comes to polygamy. Past ancestors are known for having the biggest harem any kingdom has had.(lots and lots of kids…). And you weren’t opposed to the idea either but you just didn’t feel like starting one now.

But it was only a matter of time of how much you can endure before you crack.

Which brings you here

The Roseheart family

Mrs. Roseheart stands before you with a deep bow. She presents you her son, Riddle Roseheart. He stands gracefully beside his mother.

Not bad

Riddle is definitely an attractive boy, but you really don’t care about having a consort at the moment.

Why can’t those annoying vassals leave you alone?

But the way Mrs. Roseheart dug her fingers into the boys shoulder after noticing your lack of interest. You can see the fear in the boy's eyes.

Interesting

With a heavy sigh, you accept him.

Mrs. Roseheart smiles before bowing before you. You stared them down from your gold throne. Not missing the relief on the boy's face.

That night Mrs . Roseheart leaves but not before whispering something in the boy's ear which causes him to nod. He turns to you, a little shy to be left alone with you now.

“Don’t worry, in here you are safe” You tell him. He stills for a moment. Processing your words in his head before he nods.

-

Having him by your side wasn’t bad. You were actually grateful for having someone intelligent and knowledgeable like him by your side. He has been a huge help to you when you are stuck with something regarding the kingdom. Now this isn’t to say you were dumb, you are actually a very intelligent and strong kid since you were young. You were taught great etiquette lessons, sword practice, literature, educated in arts, etc.

which made your father very proud.

But sometimes with all the vassal nagging at you every second that you breathed, kills your brain cells. Literally.

So having riddle is such a relief and a blessing. Though you won’t say that he’s a little…dedicated to his duties.

You were tired and agitated after another day of dealing with your vassals and their obsession with you having a heir.

Jeez, can they give you a break?

The moment you opened your door chambers you nearly went into cardiac arrest upon seeing Riddle on your bed with nothing but a robe.

You quickly turned around and asked him what he was doing. The boy was confused and also a little embarrassed before saying that as his duty as a consort, it’s his responsibility to give you an heir.

Sevens what’s with people and heirs?!

You sigh before telling him in the sweetest tone that he doesn’t have to do that. The both of you are still young and you don’t want to pressure him into doing something he doesn’t want to do. He tries to reason with you but you still refuse. It isn’t because he’s not attractive, which was his first thought and you quickly reassured him that wasn’t the case.

But you can also tell this is something his mother wanted him to do. So you told him that it wasn’t necessary. When he brings up the vassals and their demands for an heir, you tell him not to worry about them.

They aren’t important anyways

Before he could say anything, you give him a small kiss on his head before sending him off to his chamber.

You attended a ceremony, and if you’re being honest, you dont know whose it is or what it’s about. (It’s literally held in your palace and it’s for you)

You watch as different men and women flaunt at you in hopes of being picked. You can see in the corner of your eye riddle getting a little jealous.

How cute

You took a sip of your wine as you watched people dance and joke in laughter. Riddle sits by your side, enjoying a delicious tart made by one of your many favorite bakers. (The clovers will always get it right every time) your eyes roamed lazily through the crowd of people before halting at the sight of the kingsholar family.

The Sunset Savanna royals

The king and queens faces light up at the sight of you. They make their way towards you and riddle and you quickly down the rest of your wine. The three of you talk, politics, land, everything you can think of. Now the kingsholar are angels really but you weren’t really in the mood to talk. You nod along to whatever the king was saying and even smile or laugh here and there after he says something remotely funny.

As you and the king chatted, while his wife and riddle talked about how his life in the palace is, your attention shifts to the figure standing all alone in a corner. Sipping wine as a scowl is permanently attached to his face.

“And- oh?” He follows your gaze before chuckling.

“That’s my younger brother. Leona kingsholar! Wanna meet him?” And before anything could leave your mouth the man called him over. Leona scowls deeper at the call of his name, he downs his cup before beginning to walk to where the four of you are.

“Leona! Meet the empress of Yuunkaedangon! Empress, this is my younger brother and the second born prince of sunset savanna, Leona” you gave him a greeting as he did the same.

Now you have heard about the second prince of the sunset savanna, but you never saw what he looks like. After all, the second born prince rarely leaves his room, according to rumors and news.

And boy oh boy. you won’t lie, he’s a very beautiful man

“Ah! So me and my wife have heard about the beginning of your new…harem!” You froze. The glass of delicious tasty wine rested on the tip of your tongue at the king's words.

Don’t tell me

You lowered your cup. A wide smile spreads across your lips before asking him where he is going with this.

“Guess you caught on. Well, my brother has been having a little trouble I suppose, on finding a wife…or any girl really- and so I thought it would be a wonderful idea if you allowed him to join you and your harem” Oh he was serious.

Both Leona and riddle froze. Leona obviously had not a single clue that his brother was basically selling him out to you. (His words)

The king waited patiently for your response, while Riddle anxiously waited for your answer.

“And is Leona okay with this?” You ask. You didn’t want to force this man in your harem and make him think he doesn’t have a choice! The king blinks, not expecting you to ask him that. He then turns to the younger prince of Sunset Savanna and asks him.

“Well? Are you up for it?” Now everyone's attention was on Leona. He stays silent for a moment, thinking. You waited patiently for his answer. Leona eyes flicker down to see you gently caressing riddles hand that was wrapped around your arm. He can tell that you are really gentle with the redhead.

He scoffs before looking away.

“I don’t care”

“Excellent!” The king cheers. You look to meet Leona’s emerald green eyes. Kinda asking him if he was truly okay with it.

After all, eyes never lie.

-

The night the vassals heard about your new addition to your harem, they grew excited. For what reason? You don’t know. Something about sunset savanna now becoming new allies for the Yuunkaedangon empire and more land, trades, possible heirs (they whispered that part).

You brushed through Leona brown locks. He was looking at the new collection of hair pins, accessories, jewelry, and combs that you have bought for him upon his arrival. Riddle was sitting down on one of your many fluffy and comfortable chairs as he read a book.

You love how peaceful and soothing this moment felt. Leona's eyes were closed as he let you play and mess around with his hair. As much as he likes to act like he doesn’t like it, he loves the way your hands run and play through his hair. Your touch was soft and gentle. That’s what he first noticed when moved in. You were gentle.

You never raised your voice, hand, or did anything that would seem harmful to him or riddle. He’s obviously heard countless stories about emperors/ empresses treating their consorts/concubines terribly. But you…you aren’t like that.

He likes it

How gentle you are

But there’s no way in hell he’ll ever tell you that.

Nuh uh!

For now, he’ll enjoy your presence silently.

-

Riddle and Leona for now. I don’t know if I should do it as dormleaders ONLY or overblot characters (Jamil or Kalim, IDK HELP ME PICK)

Good night!👍🏻

[littlegrapejuice]

A Side Of Your Number | FC43

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: You work as a waitress at the restaurant where the grid is having their 2024 drivers' dinner, during which you catch the attention of a rookie.

Author's Note: y'all can't imagine how much i love this one like i was so inspired when i saw the pics of the drivers' dinner that i immediately ran to my f1 google docs🤭 i hope y'all enjoy, this is my 1st time writing for franco!!

F1 MASTERLIST🏎

“Good evening and welcome!” You exclaimed as you smiled at the drivers entering the room.

Everyone walked past you with a smile and went to get seated. The last one of the lot was Lewis Hamilton, who had organised the dinner.

“Hey, thanks for having us.” Lewis put his hand on your shoulder with a grateful look in his eyes.

“No problem, sir.”

“How many times have I told you to stop that?” Lewis sighed as he shook his head. “I’ve known you for years, and I have to remind you of that every time I see you.”

“Usually I do it just to annoy you,” you explained with a teasing smile. “Tonight however, it’s my job to be polite and professional so you don’t really have a choice. It’s the restaurant’s policy.”

“Fine. But don’t abuse the title please.”

“Of course,” you replied with a nod. “Sir.” You almost laughed as Lewis’s lips twitched. “Okay, sorry. I’ll just let you join the others then I’ll come give y’all the menus.”

Lewis did as you said and walked to the table where everyone was already sitting, before taking a seat with his current teammate George on his right while his future teammate Charles was on his left.

True to your words, you were bringing a menu for everyone a couple minutes later.

“I’ll let you make your choices and come back soon”, you told them before going back to the counter to get your notepad and pen.

As the drivers were deciding what to get, the atmosphere was light-hearted and cheerful. Everyone was exchanging their doubts about what to eat tonight, while others were giving advice on the food they were already familiar with. Having eaten there several times in the past – hence why he was friendly with you, Lewis was able to share his knowledge with the people around him. While George and Carlos were listening to his every word, Charles and Pierre were debating about how to approach the recent drama that had been occurring. On the opposite side of the table, another world champion had captured his friends’ attention. Franco, ever the fanboy, was nodding at everything Max was saying while Lando and Oscar had a similar goal as the French speakers on the other side.

As it had been deliberate to have Max and George sitting at opposite ends, the majority of drivers were hoping to get some new comments on the situation without being too obvious. The two protagonists of this feud were honestly aware of that, but didn’t let it show on their respective faces and decided on having a peaceful night.

When you saw that most of them had put their menu down and heard the chatter getting a bit louder, you took that as your cue to get everyone’s order. You felt lucky that some drinks and meals had been chosen several times, meaning that you didn’t have to write too many things. Your way of organising your notes was pretty simple: next to each item, you were just writing the number of the drivers as you knew them all by heart. Soon enough, you were bringing everyone their drinks after you had sent the food orders to the kitchen. Even though almost all the grid was there, you didn’t have any issue in navigating around the huge table that was accommodating seventeen drivers. Starting from the furthest side away from the counter, you made your way up to the other side of the table. Everyone was being really nice to you and thankful for your service, which made Lewis smile as he was glad that your work was being appreciated.

Almost done, you now only had four drinks left to bring to Max, Lando, Oscar, and Franco. Although you were a big Mclaren fan – more of the drivers than the team nowadays, you managed to remain professional. Lewis knew about your preference, but never took it the wrong way because you had once told him that you became a Mclaren fan when he was still with them. Therefore, he had no right to judge you for playing favourites when he was the original reason for that. Moreover, he knew that you were supporting him as an individual driver, whatever team he was on.

You had to admit that you were also nervous to serve Max as the Dutch was really intimidating. However, the smile he gave you when you set down his drink was the most genuine you had ever seen and all your worries went away in less than a second. Finally, you gave his drink to Franco. You didn’t have a strong opinion on him yet. Sure he was cute and had a certain charm to him from what you had seen in interviews, but you still had a hard time judging his racing as he hadn’t been in Formula One for long and had probably been pulled from Formula Two way too early. And despite the points he had scored during his first races, he had crashed several times recently so you’d need to see him do a full season one day in order to rank him as a driver and not only as a person. Safe to say, you were quite neutral to face him compared to the others. Still, you offered him your kindest smile when you put down the glass on the table.

“And this is for you, enjoy!” Despite using your customer service bubbly personality, you were truly happy to do your job tonight and no one could deny it.

Turns out that someone else was now also very happy that you were doing this job. See, as you barely had time to remove your hand from the drink you had set down, someone else’s was grabbing it. You didn’t really register the physical touch as you honestly didn’t mind – it didn’t happen that often, but the other person was surprisingly perturbed. So while you were waiting for them to remove their hand from yours, it seemed that they hadn’t even realised it. Franco, who was the one with his hand around the glass and around your hand, was looking up at you. He blinked a couple times and opened his mouth to speak before following your gaze that was focused on the drink.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Franco apologised as he immediately retracted his hand, letting you put yours back to your side.

“No problem, don’t worry!” You smiled at the young driver before taking a look around the table. “I’ll be back with the first dishes soon guys, enjoy your drinks in the meanwhile!”

Everyone thanked you before they began clinking their glasses together, and once again the chatter got louder. The drivers were comparing drink choices and their tastes, as they shared souvenirs of past dinners. One driver, though, was a bit more silent than others. Franco was currently nodding along to whatever story Yuki was telling about one of his trips, and just quietly sipped his drink. Easy to say that he wasn’t going to remember anything as it seemed that his mind was occupied with something else – or rather someone else. His eyes kept drifting back to you, back facing the drivers as you were organising some shelves behind the counter. If one wasn’t really paying to where Franco’s gaze was directed, they could’ve just thought him overwhelmed from the setting. That was what Esteban had assumed.

“Hey man,” he called out to catch Franco’s attention. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm, yeah, yeah…” Franco mindlessly replied. “All good, don’t worry.”

Esteban didn’t have much time to wonder about whether to drop the subject or not due to Franco’s lack of convincing, that someone else had picked up on the short conversation.

“Franco, mate, everything alright?” Lando questioned, keeping a low voice as to not alert the whole table.

Now realising that he was worrying the others and catching too much attention, Franco sat up before repeating his previous words:

“I’m good, yeah. Sorry, I got a little bit distracted there. Just need to eat and I’ll be energised again, no worries!”

“I see,” Lando replied. “I get you, you’re young and still growing! You’re absolutely not distracted because you got a crush on our waitress.”

“Exactly,” Franco agreed before he processed the last sentence. “Wait– what did you say?”

“Lando said that you definitely need food while you’re still growing,” Oscar repeated. “Even though he’s barely a couple centimetres taller than you.”

“I meant growing as in growing up”, Lando retorted.

“Well, you’re not that much older than him anyways.” Oscar shrugged before going back to his conversation with Liam and Yuki who were sitting on his right.

While Max was quick to replace Oscar in teasing Lando, Franco was experiencing an entire life crisis regarding the conversation that had just happened. Did he imagine Lando’s words? Did no one else hear that? He wondered as he looked around: Esteban appeared to have stopped caring as he was talking with Nico about Haas, and the other drivers sitting across Franco didn’t seem to have paid any attention to him as they all deemed him fine. Franco truly thought he had gone crazy – he probably had. First, he loses all ability to speak because a pretty girl is serving him. And now, he can’t even differentiate his imagination from reality? He really wasn’t acting like himself. Franco was usually the one to flirt and make people nervous, never the opposite – except that one time when Oscar said he was funny in his interviews and that he needed to learn Spanish. He had to fix the situation, no more getting flustered because of eye contact with you.

Safe to say: it was easier said than done, because it was happening again.

As you started to bring everyone’s food, Franco couldn’t help his gaze following your every move. He had to think of something to make you nervous, not him! And now that he was remembering the moment from ten minutes ago, he realised that you hadn’t even done anything special for him to act like that. You were just doing your job and were as nice as the next person, so why was Franco already smitten from a thirty second interaction? He sighed as he tried to find a way to reverse the roles, which was a difficult task for him and proved impossible when you were once again in front of him.

“There you go, Franco!”

Your smile didn’t fully reach your eyes, but Franco could tell it was sincere; and how he was loving it! And did his name ever sound as good as when you were the one to say it? Was he the only one whom you had addressed by their first name? He wouldn’t be able to tell, Franco had kinda muted everything around him until you had reached him. Realising he hadn’t even replied after you had set down his plate, he quickly tried to thank you before you would be leaving the table as you had just given Oscar his food.

“Excuse me!” He called, albeit loudly which made him cringe that he would catch the other drivers’ attention, and waited for you to turn to him. When you did so and looked at him, he talked again. “Just forgot to thank you for the food, sorry.”

“Oh, that's no problem. Don’t worry about it, enjoy!”

“Thanks, again.”

Oh God, why was he so nervous to speak to you? Franco wanted to facepalm at how badly he had handled the situation. You would never be able to take him seriously after that, would you? Not wanting to keep embarrassing himself, Franco decided to start eating before someone would call him out on his actions. However, it didn’t take long as he felt someone nudging his leg from under the table. Franco looked up and his eyes met Liam’s.

“So,” Liam began. “I forgot to thank you for the food, sorry!” The blonde laughed at his own imitation of Franco, which amused the other drivers that had watched the interaction between you and the Argentinian.

“Oh my God…” Franco sighed and put his head in his hands. It was over for him, everyone would tease him and he would have to find a job in another racing category to be left alone.

“I don’t blame you,” Lando said. “She’s nice and she has a sweet smile. Is she your type?”

“She doesn’t need to be his type for him to like her”, Nico added. He turned slightly to be able to face Franco before continuing. “You should shoot your shot as you kids say nowadays, can’t hurt to try.”

“Agreed,” Yuki nodded. “We’ll make you look good in front of her, don’t worry.”

The other drivers confirmed and Franco thought it would be over for now, before someone kept the conversation going:

“Who are we making look good for whom?” Alex asked as he hadn’t been listening, having been talking with his future teammate Carlos.

“Franco”, Esteban replied. “He likes the waitress.”

“Hey!” Franco exclaimed. “Can we not air my business like that? I’m pretty sure we could be discussing other gossip.”

“But you’re not denying it,” Valtteri pointed out.

To that, Franco had nothing to reply for a good minute.

“I don’t like her, I barely know her.”

“Then get to know her,” Liam said as if it was obvious before he took a piece of food to eat.

“The kid is right,” Valtteri agreed.

“Thank you!” Liam was grateful to be supported.

“Lewis,” Valtteri eventually called to his friend who was a couple seats away. “What can you tell us about her?”

“Hmm?” The eight seven-times world champion looked up from his plate, fork in his mouth. He was confused about what he was gonna get involved in as he had spent the last half hour talking with Charles and George, the three of them having been in their own little bubble. He swallowed his food before wiping his mouth. “What’d I miss?”

“The waitress, what can you tell us about her?” Valtteri repeated.

“Why?” Lewis raised an eyebrow, confused as to why you were the topic of the table.

“I think little Franco over here wants to ask her out”, Carlos replied. He hadn’t given his opinion on the discussion yet, happy to just be a spectator and listen.

“I never said tha–” Franco began to argue.

“You want to date her?” Lewis asked, the serious tone obvious in his voice. At that, everyone around the table fell silent.

“I don’t know!” Franco desperately answered, stressed by the fact that Lewis was now getting involved.

“So you don’t like her?” Lewis rested his chin on his hands, to better focus on and assess Franco’s reactions. “She’s not to your liking? Not kind enough perhaps? Not hardworking enough?”

“I–” Franco was at a loss for words. He was truly about to shit himself and disappear from the face of the earth. Right now, he was almost glad to not have a seat next year because he didn’t think he would be able to handle facing the drivers anymore after this whole chaos. “She seems really nice, yeah.”

“She is,” Lewis simply stated.

“And yeah, she’s pretty.” His gaze landed once again on you. Fortunately for him, you were far enough from the table to not hear anything, but he was still able to look at your profile while you were chatting with some of the cooks. To his luck – really? – you had decided right at this moment to turn back to quickly check on how the drivers’ dinner was going and your eyes met his for a split second. Just a smile from you was enough to make Franco flustered again, making him drop the eye contact immediately. You went back to your conversation, completely unaware of what was happening barely ten metres away from you. When Franco realised that everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to keep going, he gulped. “I guess I wouldn’t mind being friends with her.”

“Just friends?”

“That’d be the main goal indeed”. Franco decided to be more confident in himself, and even though he was facing his idol, he had to be tough. “But becoming more could eventually be a great bonus.”

As Lewis kept asking questions about Franco’s intentions for another minute, which the young driver didn’t hesitate in answering, the rest of the drivers were still silent. They were all absolutely invested in the conversation unfolding before them, their heads turning left and right as if they were watching a tennis match. If the drama between George and Max had been the most interesting thing at the beginning of the night, it was now the least of their worries. Finally, the exchange between Lewis and Franco was coming to an end – almost to everyone’s disappointment as the entertainment would stop.

“Fine”, Lewis said as he let his hands drop back to his side and got more relaxed in his seat.

“Fine?” Franco repeated.

“I’ll give you a chance,” he explained. ‘Can’t say yet that she’ll do the same, but I guess you wouldn’t be too bad for her if anything were to happen.”

“Thanks…” Franco mumbled as he scratched his neck. He was still embarrassed that he had to have this conversation about you with the Sir Lewis Hamilton. At least, it was safe to shoot his shot now.

Not expecting it, you suddenly heard the whole table erupt in cheers and got startled as they were probably the loudest clients you’d ever heard in the restaurant. Looking at the cooks in confusion, you then let out a laugh at the drivers’ happiness. You had no idea what was happening, but you were glad that they were having fun. You knew from Lewis that the relations between drivers weren’t always rainbows and sunshines, but it warmed your heart to see them all getting along for one evening.

Debating if it was your cue to go up to the table when the cheers got quieter, you got a confirmation when Lewis called out your name. You excused yourself to the cooks – telling them to maybe expect orders soon enough – and walked up to the drivers with the same smile you had harboured since the beginning of the evening. At first, you had stopped at the table end that had been closest to you, but Lewis actually made you sign to join him at the other end where he was.

“How’re you doing?” He asked you when you were beside him.

“Good, good. What about you, guys? I heard a pretty nice celebration there.”

“We are indeed celebrating”, Lewis confirmed as he stood up next to you. “Toast with us?”

“I’m working Lewis”, you replied with a sigh. You had abandoned your smile and opted for a straight face that you hoped would remind your friend of your actual duties here.

“Just one drink?” He almost pleaded. “We’ll be very disappointed if you refuse.”

You reluctantly agreed – to which Lewis grinned – and quickly got yourself a drink before you came back to stand by the Brit. Thinking that you could treat yourself, you had taken a beer that you were definitely planning on charging Lewis for.

“So, what are we toasting to?” You wondered as you swirled your drink.

“To us: the 2024 grid. To the new drivers, and to the drivers that have been there for years and will still be there next year. But most importantly…” Lewis took his time glancing at his former partner at Mercedes, before his glance drifted to the others that had limited time left in Formula One. “We toast to the ones that won’t be here with us anymore starting next season. We’ll remember them to have been amongst the twenty best drivers in the world, and we’ll remember their meaningful careers. To us!” Lewis repeated, which was echoed by everyone else around the table.

To say you got chills was an understatement. Lewis’s speech was short, but enough for everyone listening to understand the weight of his words. No matter how long they had been in Formula One for, no matter how long they’ll still be here, no matter their achievements: there will always be someone to tell the stories of the drivers that had once reached the pinnacle of motorsport.

You knew Lewis had never taken his position for granted. He had fought to get to it, fought to stay there for the past seventeen years, and kept fighting to keep his place for the future. You had always admired him for his resilience, and you were always one to admire someone whenever they would reach the top step that was Formula One. Therefore, you were soaking in this moment. A moment shared with the seventeen people around you, whom you would never forget.

Your eyes, once again, met Franco’s. You gave him a discreet nod with a smile and slightly tipped your beer in his direction, as a way to tell him that yes, you would remember even him amongst the greatest. He shyly smiled back, and took a sip of his drink to distract himself from the way your eyes were softly looking at him from afar. After a moment of silence during when everyone had stayed quiet as a way of honouring those around them, you decided to fall back into your work persona.

“Not that I hate getting involved in this little get-together, but I am actually employed to serve y’all and not drink with the clients. Someone,” you emphasised with a look to Lewis, “better remember that.”

“Alright, blame it all on me.” Lewis raised his hands in defence. “I guess it’s time for some desserts then, right?”

The other drivers all agreed with the offer, and you took their plates to bring them back to the kitchen. After you had cleaned the table – except for the drinks that weren’t done yet, you gave everyone a dessert menu and let them make their choices. You came back to the table a couple minutes later to take the final orders, and wrote everything down. When you double-checked that you had seventeen desserts noted, you told the table that you’d be back soon and turned away. However, someone called out to you.

“Excuse me!” You recognised the voice as Lando’s. “You didn’t get Franco’s full order.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You immediately apologised, wondering what you had missed as you clicked your pen, ready to add anything else.

“What are you doing?” Franco asked the Brit. Although he was whispering, everyone could hear the stress in his voice as he had no idea what to expect.

“So what can I get you?” You looked at Franco and smiled, waiting for him to tell you what he wanted.

Absolutely panicking, Franco didn’t know what to answer. His only option was to look at Lando for an explanation as to what he was expecting him to say, but it turned out to be his biggest mistake. Your gaze followed the direction in which Franco had glanced, and your eyes met Lando’s. He had already been looking at you, a grin on his face as he rested his cheek on his palm.

“He’ll just have whatever he had ordered with a side of your number.”

The entire room – which was honestly just you and the drivers – fell silent. As cringe and embarrassing it was for Lando to say that, he knew it was for the greater good. The dinner would be soon over, everyone would go back to their hotels and immediately go to sleep, due to the busy day waiting for them. So who knows if and when Franco would’ve actually talked to you.

Not knowing what to reply for a few seconds, you then processed Lando’s words and chuckled.

“I’ll see what I can do, we have a very limited stock.” Your eyes went back to looking at Franco, who was blushing. “Can you confirm to me that Lando got your order right, Franco?”

“Y–yeah, that’s what I’d like.” Franco wanted nothing more than to disappear six feet underground right now. “If that’s okay… I would understand if you can’t accommodate that.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem, don’t worry. I’ll get back to you soon.”

When you left the drivers to their antics to go relay the orders to the kitchen, you couldn’t help the giddy smile that appeared on your face. It wasn’t everyday that a cute driver was interested in you. Hell! It wasn’t everyday that someone was interested in you, period. You thought about quickly texting Lewis to ask him for his opinion, but decided otherwise when you remembered him telling you about the ‘promising Argentinian who definitely deserved a full-time seat in the future’. You tried to find a way to give Franco your number, which could let you avoid doing so in front of all the drivers. You figured they had already teased him about it if Lando was as involved as he seemed to be, and kept thinking about a solution while you waited for the desserts to be ready.

Eventually, you had found the perfect idea. So when you brought the desserts to the drivers, you put your plan in motion. As you put Franco’s plate in front of him, you managed your best customer service voice along with an apologetic tone:

“I’m truly sorry, but your added request is actually impossible to fulfill at the moment.” You did your best not to laugh at your poor acting, and almost stopped pretending when you saw Franco’s dejected expression. “But, I found another solution to accommodate your needs.”

Confused, Franco tilted his head at you. You then gave him a piece of paper that was folded in two, and he wondered if your number was actually written on it or if it was all an act to reject him nicely. He truly thought you could have been interested too, but maybe the other drivers’ involvement along with him hitting on you at your workplace had been a complete ick. However, when you gave him one last glance before telling everyone to enjoy their food, he could swear you had winked at him. This was a good sign then, right?

As you left the drivers one more time, Franco debated unfolding the paper to read what was written on it. But when he saw that everyone was staring at him, expecting him to read out loud the content of the paper, he actually put it in his pocket. This led to the drivers all sighing of disappointment before they chose to focus on their food.

The rest of the dinner went well. When everyone was done eating, they simply chatted about the upcoming grand prix before it was time to pay and leave the restaurant. The drivers called you back for the bill, which you brought a few minutes later. Not thinking twice, you set it down in front of Lewis.

“I’m actually the one paying,” Valtteri pointed out.

“That’s so nice of you,” you replied. “I honestly think that the oldest should pay, but that’s just my opinion.”

“You wanna bankrupt me or what?” Lewis asked you.

“As if it would do harm to your bank account”, you retorted. “I’m pretty sure the world champion titles paid really well.”

“I can confirm”, Max shouted from the other end of the table.

“We’re settled, don’t worry. It’s my goodbye gift to them”, Valtteri assured you before you gave him the card terminal so that he could pay.

You thanked him and gave him his receipt before putting the terminal back in your pocket. You were about to start cleaning the table and bid the drivers good night when they asked you to take pictures for them. As an amateur photographer, you couldn’t refuse the request and even offered to use the digital camera you always had on you. They gladly accepted and you found yourself taking a dozen pictures of the drivers. You told Lewis that you would send the digitals later tonight, and he thanked you in advance.

It was now time for the drivers to actually leave and get ready for a good night's sleep before their last grand prix of the season. Telling them goodbye one by one and wishing them luck for the race, each driver sent you one last smile before thanking you once again for your wonderful service. The last two left were Franco and Lewis. You felt happy for Franco to be able to hang out so easily with his idol as you could relate to that surreal experience. They approached you while Lewis had his arm around Franco’s shoulders, and a smile was present on both their faces.

“We had a great night”, Lewis told you. “Right, Franco?” The young driver eagerly nodded and Lewis chuckled.

“Glad to know I did my job well. I’ll see you guys soon, yeah? Maybe for next year’s dinner?” You suggested.

“Why not tomorrow?” Lewis countered.

“You wanna have dinner here tomorrow as well?” You asked, confused as to why he hadn’t notified you sooner.

“I meant tomorrow at the track”, Lewis clarified. “And the day after that, and on Sunday for the race.”

“I didn’t buy tickets for this year. I’ll see well enough on my TV, don’t worry.”

“I have tickets for you though. Paddock passes and all”, he explained. “I sent them to you by email earlier during dinner. You’ll come say hi to us, yeah?”

“Oh! Well, yes! Oh my God, thank you so much!” You were absolutely ecstatic to be able to attend the grand prix. Usually, you would watch it from home, especially when you were working that day and didn't have any days off left to use.

“Everything has been arranged with your employer by the way; so you only need to show up every day, tour our garages, and look pretty to watch us race. Sounds good?”

“Sounds absolutely perfect, thank you Lewis.” You were beaming with happiness. “That means I’ll see you tomorrow as well Franco, will I?”

“Yeah of course,” he nodded. “You’ll have to come to me yourself though, I don’t have a way of contacting you.”

“Yet”, you teased with a smile. “Well, not like I don’t appreciate your company, but I need to close and go back home so I’ll have to ask you to leave guys.”

“Sorry,” Lewis and Franco both apologised before they finally left the restaurant.

You waved at them and closed the door as you got ready to finish cleaning up everything. On the other side of the door, the two drivers were now alone as they started making their way outside.

“You’re still not checking her note?” Lewis wondered after a few minutes of silence.

“I don’t know… I’m a bit nervous to read it,” Franco admitted.

“And I’m actually a bit curious to know what it says.”

Knowing that you trusted the Brit, Franco deemed it fine to open your note in front of him as he imagined that you hadn’t written anything indecent. However, when he finally revealed its content, Franco’s eyes widened with surprise and Lewis got even more interested in what it said.

“Ask the seven times world champion”, Lewis started reading out loud over Franco's shoulder. “He should give you my number if he thinks you deserve it (I certainly think you do)”.

While Lewis was laughing at your words, Franco was looking at him expectantly. If he wasn’t stressed enough about asking you out, he was now even more as he realised he had to go through Lewis – again.

“So… hmm…” Franco hesitated for a few seconds. “Is it actually okay if I ask you for her number? I swear I won’t do anything wrong!”

“Don’t worry kid, I trust you on that. Give me a top ten in free practice tomorrow and you got yourself a deal.”

“Okay!” Franco agreed, sudden determination in his voice. “I’ll do my best!”

“I don’t doubt it”, Lewis replied with a proud smile on his face. “Have a good night, Franco. See you tomorrow,” he added as they would be going different ways to their respective hotels.

“Thanks, you too!”

Excited for the next day, Franco had harboured a huge grin while going back to his hotel room. He was confident in his skills. And despite having to drive an old version of his car, half taped-up, he knew he was able to achieve good times tomorrow. He had a pretty good motivation to do so.

…..

“P7 Lewis!” Franco shouted as he walked towards his idol after the first free practice, phone in hand, and a smile on his face.

“Nice job kid,” Lewis congratulated. “Give me your phone then.” Franco immediately obeyed and Lewis finally put your number in the Argentinian’s contacts. “There you go,” he told him while giving back the phone.

“Thanks! I’ll see you later, bye!” Franco waved while he went back to the direction of his garage, already drafting up a text to send you.

He wasted no time in sending you the message he had spent all night thinking of. He hoped you wouldn’t take too much time to reply as he didn’t know if he could handle the wait. Luckily, his wish had been granted one way or another: as soon as he arrived in front of his garage, you were there. Looking down at your phone, you were quickly typing until your thumb was hovering over the send button. When you sensed someone watching you, you looked up and your eyes met Franco’s. So as you were exchanging eye contact with him, you finally decided on sending your text before putting your phone back into your pocket and walking towards Franco.

However, it hadn’t been Franco that you had texted. The Argentinian had only sent you a short message telling you that he would wait for you at the Williams hospitality, to which you hadn’t thought it necessary to reply as you had already been there. No, the person you had texted was none other than Lewis as you felt like he deserved a thank you for going along with your plan.

Thanks for being a great wingman, I’ll buy you a drink<3

You wouldn’t see it immediately as Franco had just offered you to have lunch with him – which you obviously accepted, but Lewis had answered you shortly after:

Save me a seat at the wedding and we’ll be even

(also lewis makes for a great baby name if you have a boy)

..........

I hope y'all liked this as much as i liked writing it🫶🏻 don't hesitate to comment or reblog if you appreciate my work, it always means a lot to me!!

Side note: I've been extremely unwell since the season ended😭 despite 2024 being my 1st season, I've grown attached to f1 sooo quickly that i missed it every time there was only a two weeks break and now we're acc gonna starve for 3 months🧍🏻‍♀️ and the fact that dts is being released in march is insane bc wdym we can't even have that during the off season

Anywayyys see you next time, take care of yourselves, and happy holidays🤍

[secretgardensinmymindd13]

i just realized that eddie probably loves buck’s yapping and knowledge of random facts because he’s had a very different life experience

buck was a free spirit who lived a million lives before he settled in the 118. i bet the stories about all the shenanigans in his youth are interesting to hear (“that’s your big regret in life?” “i mean, i basically did everything else before i became a firefighter, so, yeah, no, i feel pretty good about my 20s”)

for eddie, buck is extremely smart - he’s both street-smart and naturally curious, and he knows a lot of little, random things about the world

meanwhile, buck thinks eddie is extremely smart because he was a soldier, an army medic, he has a silver star. he was married. he’s a dad. it’s all so different from buck’s own experience, and he’s in awe of eddie’s knowledge about the world

eddie knows things buck can’t, simply because he lived through things buck never did. but the same can be said about buck - he knows things eddie never had the chance to learn, because eddie was too busy being responsible for and taking care of everyone and everything else

so when they start hanging out, eddie admires buck just as much as buck admires eddie. buck’s often told he’s dumb, even if it’s said affectionately. but eddie doesn’t see him that way. he’s actually impressed by buck’s kind of intelligence and sees it as something valuable

“buck was on the pier when the tsunami hit, so he’s kinda obsessed with natural disasters”

"he takes christopher there all the time, got the place memorized”

and his reaction to buck coming up with crazy ideas during emergencies? he’s not dismissive - he’s intrigued, impressed, and proud

for eddie, buck’s random and sometimes “silly” or “useless” bits of knowledge are actually fascinating. it’s a whole new world for him. he loves his brain

and it must be really flattering for buck to know that the guy he sees as the epitome of coolness thinks he’s smart too. it’s got to be such a confidence boost. like, what do you mean this amazingly mature and competent guy, who literally went through war, is a great medic, had a wife, and is a great dad… likes “light-headed, scattered-brained” me? and adores the way i think and the way my mind works?

idk, it’s hard to explain exactly, but the difference between “buck begins” and “eddie begins” really highlights how different their levels of freedom to explore life have been

and when you compare it, you start to understand why they’re each other’s favorite guy (even though there are a million other reasons too)

[reidsworld]

Patience Wears Thin

Summary: Logan’s flirty behaviour has you thinking he’s just being sarcastic. But when his attitude changes and his grumpiness intensifies, leading to him avoiding you, you confront him, only for him to finally snap. Based on this request.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Mutant!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Reader’s oblivious, mild language, sexual tension, slight jealous!logan, making out, hickeys, oral sex(m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), creampie, (semi) public sex (you’ll see what I mean), no use of Y/N, pet names (darlin’) — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!

Word Count: 2.9k

Mars speaks… It's been a while since I’ve posted but here we are!! Thank you for the request, this was kinda tough for me to write and didn’t really turn out how I wanted it but I hope it meets your expectations! The reader is a mutant but her powers aren’t specified. Any and all feedback is always appreciated!

Masterlist

You were used to Logan’s gruffness, but lately, something had changed. At first, it was little things—him hanging around more often, offering to help with tasks that didn’t need his strength, or staying close by even when you were just making coffee. You noticed the way his hand would brush against yours when passing you something or how he’d rest his hand on your shoulder a little longer than necessary. Despite all of his actions, he was still cold around you, seemingly never able to escape his own grumpiness.

One evening, as you were getting ready for a date, Logan wandered by your room. His mood was clearly off as he knocked leaned against your door frame, his eyes closed and head tilted down. When you greeted him, he slowly looked you up and down. His expression shifted from frustration to shock as he took in how stunning you looked.

“Damn,” Logan said, his voice cold and deep, if you didn’t know him, you would’ve sworn he hated you. “You look incredible. Got a big night planned?”

You glanced up from the mirror, surprised by his comments. “Oh, I have a date tonight,” you replied with a smile, still adjusting your dress.

Logan’s eyes darkened slightly as he processed your words. “A date, huh?”

“Yep,” you said, focusing on your reflection. “I’m just trying to pick the right outfit.”

He pushed himself off the door frame, his gaze still fixed on you. “You don’t need to be worried about impressing anyone tonight, darlin’. Trust me, you look incredible.”

You laughed, thinking he was just being his usual flirtatious self. “Thanks, Logan. But it’s just dinner. Nothing too serious.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he took a step back, his demeanour now distant. “Right. Well, have fun.”

You smiled at him, not noticing the shift in his attitude. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

As you left for your date, Logan watched you go, his face a mask of frustration and disappointment. The knowledge that you were going out with someone else hit him hard, and his mood darkened.

You were left puzzled by his sudden change in behaviour. However, in Logan’s mind, if you were going out with someone else, you clearly didn’t want him, so why should he put effort into a losing game?

But you didn’t think much of his compliments, chalking it up to Logan trying to be supportive. Until one day, you noticed something different—he started avoiding you.

It began with him skipping out on the usual training sessions you shared. Then, he stopped joining you for movie nights in the common room, always coming up with a vague excuse that didn’t make sense. He’d disappear for hours, not even leaving a trace of his familiar scent behind. The final straw was when he didn’t show up for your breakfast dates (well… that’s what they were to him), a ritual he never missed. It was confusing, and you couldn’t figure out what had changed.

You asked him once, in passing, if something was wrong. His answer was clipped, dismissive. “Nothin’ for you to worry about, darlin’.”

But you were worried. His behaviour was off, and no matter how much you replayed your interactions in your mind, you couldn’t pinpoint what had triggered this sudden shift.

A few days later, you walked into the kitchen to find Logan grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Relief washed over you—this was the first time you’d seen him in days without him immediately bolting. But when you greeted him, he barely grunted in response, not meeting your eyes.

“Logan, seriously,” you said, trying to sound casual but unable to keep the concern out of your voice. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me.”

His jaw clenched, and he didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the bottle in his hand. “Just been busy.”

“Busy?” You frowned, crossing your arms. “Too busy to even say hello?”

He looked up at you then, his eyes hard. “Yeah, busy. I don’t have time for games, alright?”

“Games?” you echoed, thrown off by the accusation. “What are you talking about? I’m not playing any games, Logan.”

He let out a frustrated huff, shaking his head as he pushed past you, brushing your shoulder as he went. “Forget it.”

That was it? He was clearly upset, but he wouldn’t talk to you about it. It didn’t make sense. You stood there, staring at the spot where he’d just been, confusion and hurt swirling inside you. Logan was the last person you expected to act like this—especially toward you.

A few more days passed, and the tension between you only grew. Logan’s avoidance became more blatant, and every time you tried to approach him, he’d find a way to leave before you could say anything. You started to wonder if you’d done something to upset him, but every time you asked, he brushed you off with a noncommittal grunt or a sarcastic remark.

It was driving you crazy.

Now you were sitting alone in the common room, you and Logan somehow being the only two in the mansion with everyone else out on various missions and overnight school trips. As you attempted to watch a movie to take your mind off things, Logan’s absence gnawed at you. He was always here for movie nights, even if he’d just sit silently in the corner. The emptiness of his usual spot was glaring, a constant reminder that something had shifted between you.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to confront him, to find out what the hell was going on.

When you walked into the gym, your eyes immediately found Logan, his muscular form sitting on a raised bench, sweat glistening on his skin. He didn’t acknowledge your presence, focusing on his workout with an intensity that made your stomach twist.

“Logan,” you called out, your voice firmer than you felt.

He paused, setting the dumbbells down with a heavy thud before finally looking at you. “What?”

“What is your problem?” you demanded, stepping closer, not giving him a chance to escape this time. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague, and I want to know why.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat off his face. “Maybe I’m just tired of tryin’,” he muttered, his voice low.

“Trying what?” You crossed your arms, frustration boiling over. “Logan, you’re not making any sense. You’ve been acting like I did something wrong, but I don’t even know what that is!”

His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place—anger, maybe? But there was something else too, something deeper that made your heart race.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he growled, stepping closer to you, his presence overwhelming.

“Get what?” you shot back, refusing to back down even though his proximity was making it hard to think straight.

Logan huffed, his hand running through his hair in a rare display of frustration. “I’ve been tryin’ to show you, but you’re too damn blind to see it.”

“Show me what?” You were at your wit’s end, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

His eyes bore into yours, intense and unyielding. “That I want you, darlin’. I’ve wanted you for a long damn time, and I’m sick of you not seein’ it.”

You stared at him, stunned into silence. This was the last thing you expected him to say. Logan—gruff, no-nonsense Logan—wanted you? The thought was so far from anything you’d ever imagined that you couldn’t even process it.

“You…you want me?” you finally managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the frustration in his eyes palpable. “I’ve been tryin’ to show ya, but you keep thinkin’ I’m just bein’ a grumpy bastard.”

You blinked, completely floored by his confession. “Logan, I…I didn’t know. I thought…”

“Thought I was messin’ with ya?” he finished for you, his voice rough, almost bitter. “That’s why I’ve been avoidin’ ya—figured if you couldn’t see it by now, I was just wastin’ my time.”

The weight of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. You hadn’t seen it, not because you didn’t want to, but because the idea that Logan could feel that way about you seemed impossible. And now, standing here, with him staring at you like you were the only person in the world, you realised how wrong you’d been.

“Logan, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest. “I didn’t know. I never thought…”

“Don’t apologise,” he cut you off, his voice softer now, but still edged with frustration. “I’m just done waitin’, darlin’. I can’t keep doin’ this—dancin’ around it, hopin’ you’ll figure it out.”

You took a shaky breath, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to think. “What do you want, Logan?”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a way that made your knees weak. “You, darlin’. I’ve always wanted you.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, rough and demanding, as if he was trying to make up for all the time lost in that one kiss. The force of it stole your breath, your hands automatically reaching up to clutch his shoulders as you kissed him back just as fiercely.

Logan’s grip on you tightened, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing your lips until you parted them, letting him in. The taste of him—smoke, whiskey, and something unmistakably Logan—filled your senses, making your head spin.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his breathing ragged, his pupils blown wide with desire. “Still think I’m jokin’?”

You shook your head, your heart racing, your thoughts scattered. “No,” you breathed out.

“Good,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours before he started kissing his way down your jaw, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. “’Cause I’m gonna show you exactly how much I want you.”

His mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin before he bit down gently, making you gasp. Your hands fisted in his shirt, needing something to hold on to as his hands moved to your thighs, lifting you and moving to sit on the bench. Your legs desperately straddled him, pulling him closer.

Logan’s hands were everywhere—sliding under your shirt, tracing the curve of your waist, skimming up your ribs, his touch igniting a fire in you that you hadn’t realised was there. He was careful, almost reverent, despite the rough edge to his movements, as if he was holding himself back from completely losing control.

When his hands found your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through the fabric of your bra, you arched into him, a whimper escaping your lips. He growled, the sound low and primal, as his mouth found yours again, his kiss fierce and demanding.

You could feel the hardness of him pressing against your core, the friction sending waves of pleasure through you, and you couldn’t help but rock your hips against him, seeking more.

Logan’s response was immediate, his hands gripping your hips as you ground against him, his mouth devouring yours as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You were lost in the sensation, in the heat and the intensity of him, and it was all you could do to hold on.

Just when you thought you might lose yourself completely, Logan pulled back, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild as he looked up at you. “Tell me to stop,” he rasped, his voice strained, as if it was taking everything in him to hold back. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

But the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. You shook your head, your voice breathless as you whispered, “Don’t stop.”

Logan let out a low, feral sound, his lips crashing against yours again as he ripped off your shirt. His patience had worn thin, and now there was no turning back. As your lips roughly moulded together, tongues battling for dominance, your hands slid under his tank-top, brushing over his abs. You pulled away, taking off his shirt, jaw dropping at the sight of his glistening body from the sweat of his workout.

“Holy shit, you should be shirtless more often…”

He didn’t respond, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. Your hands trailed down his chest, fingers sliding down his happy trail. Climbing off him, you dropped down to your knees in front of him. He raised his hips as you pulled down his sweatpants and boxers, his dick springing out and slapping against his stomach.

You didn’t give him time to process what was happening as you immediately licked a stripe up his dick before taking the head into your mouth, tongue brushing against the tip, making him throw his head back against the bench and groan.

Your hands gently massaged his balls as your mouth focused on the head of his cock, gently sucking as his hand moved to gather your hair into a make-shift ponytail. You lowered your head, taking more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks.

Looking up through your lashes, your eyes met with his while you began to move your head up and down faster, your hands touching whatever couldn’t fit into your mouth. You continued this until your jaw was aching and his dick was twitching in your mouth.

He began to gently thrust into your mouth, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. One of your hands slid down into your shorts, rubbing your clit before pushing a finger into your dripping pussy.

“Fuck, so good darlin’,” he grunted as you moaned around him, slipping another finger into yourself.

“If you don’t stop now, m’gonna cum, wanna feel you ‘round me.”

He pulled you off of him, revelling in your dishevelled appearance. You stood up, and pulled off your shorts and panties. You reached behind you, unclipping your bra, letting it slide off your body. His eyes trailed up and down your body admiring you. You bit your lip at the way his eyes shined with something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on but you never wanted him to stop looking at you like that.

You silently moved to straddle him, pulling him into a slow kiss as your bare core grinded against his cock. One of his hands wrapped around you, trailing up and down your back as you both sat there, grinding against each other. His other hand reached down and grabbed your hip.

You raised your hips as you reached for his cock, positioning at your entrance before slowly sinking down onto him. You leaned forward and he fell back against the bench and buried your face in his neck, letting out a simultaneous moan as you stretched around him. You stayed still, adjusting to his size, panting into his neck, making him harder than he thought possible.

Once you were ready, you slowly raised your hips before sinking back down onto him. His hands moved to grip your hips as you began to ride him, gently helping you. You kissed him roughly, moaning into his mouth as his hips thrust up to meet yours.

The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the loud moans and groans coming out of your mouths. In that moment, neither of you cared where you were— that there was a chance someone could easily walk in on you even though it was just the two of you in the mansion. All you two cared about was the feeling of him inside of you and how you wrapped so tightly around him.

He let out a rough groan as your lips met his neck, biting into it when his hips met yours. Bouncing on his dick, you clenched around him, making him let out an almost feral sound.

“Oh fuck don’t stop, wrapped so tightly ‘round me, s’like you were made for me.”

“‘M all yours, Lo.”

“Shoulda never avoided you, shoulda just manned up and kissed you, ‘stead of waiting ‘round for you to realise that I want you.”

If you weren’t so desperate for him, you would’ve laughed but all you could do was moan and nod into his neck.

“‘M gonna cum, Lo.”

“Give it to me, darlin’.”

His hand reached to roughly circle your clit, sending you over the edge. You moaned out as a feeling of ecstasy overcame you and your vision went white. Your body slumped against his but his thrusts were relentless. As they got sloppier, you could feel his dick twitch inside of you, making you moan.

“I’m so close, need to cum inside you.”

His mouth pressed against your neck, marking you like a blank canvas for everyone to see later. He pounded up into you, his hand still rubbing your clit causing you to cum for a second time. You tightened around him, making him shoot his cum deep inside you.

His thrusts slowed, fucking you through it as you both panted, trying to catch your breath. His movements came to a stop and he titled his head back, letting out a deep breath.

You raised your head, looking into his eyes and laughing,

“I can’t believe I could’ve had this so much sooner if I wasn’t so obvious.”

Mars speaks… (again) woah that got… 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

Tags… @pastelpinkflowerlife

[jeonginsleftcheek]

A relaxing evening

pairing: lee felix x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, roommates to lovers

word count: 3.2k

warnings: soft dom lix, big dick lix, sensual massage, clit play, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, one light spank, not proofread (lmk if i missed something)

a/n: after spending a month writing a literal 70k+ book for hyunjin i hit a bit of a writer's block and who better to get me out of it than my very own muse, lee felix😏

~ Masterlist

To say you've had a horrible day was an understatement.

You've had the worst day that actually stretched and turned into the worst week.

Your boss was on your neck constantly, there was so much work to do which made you stay at the company working overtime and coming home late.

To make matters worse, everyone was angry and annoyed, so the conflict at work grew into a displeasing feeling that had you desperate for any kind of relief, even just a free afternoon to nap.

Felix, your roommate and friend, noticed how you came home later than usually and more drained day after day, the dark circles under your eyes getting progressively darker as the week came to an end.

Finally, Friday came around and you were barely standing on your feet when you walked into the apartment.

Felix is sitting on the couch, probably playing some games before sleep as you shuck off your shoes.

"Hi, sugar plum."- he snickers when he hears you groaning behind him, his head falling backwards to catch a glimpse of you.

"Please, don't start. I'm not in the mood."- you say tiredly.

Usually you throw disgustingly cute nicknames back and forth at each other but your brain was short-circuiting so bad that even thinking of a nickname for your friend was hard.

Felix exhales, pouting as he gets up and makes his way to you, helping you take off your blazer.

"I'll heat up some dinner."- he says and you nod, not even bothering to answer because the last ounce of strength you have is focused on standing upright.

You follow him to the kitchen to drink some water, and Felix looks at your tired frame, feeling sad that you're so down, instead of being your usual self, the one that jokes around and yaps away with him until the early morning.

"Why don't you sit down?"- he guides you to the chair and you sit wordlessly.

"My whole body hurts."- is what you say after a few moments of silence, as Felix waits for the dinner to warm up, his eyes trained outside the window.

"And my mind too."- you add as he looks at you and you notice the sympathetic smile he gives you.

"Well..."- Felix starts as he takes the food out on a plate. "I could prepare you a nice warm bath."

"You would do that?"- you ask, in your tired state you feel emotional and tears prick at your eyes.

"Of course I would."- he smiles, the sweet expression on his face as he brings you dinner makes you feel a little bit healed already.

"You're an angel, Lixie."- you smile as he squeezes your shoulder.

"I don't know about that."- he chuckles shyly, his freckled cheeks becoming rosy instantly.

You shake your head with a fond smile as he makes his way to the bathroom while you finally have a normal warm meal after the lunch you ate at work.

Hunger takes you over and you finish eating quickly, just in time for Felix to come back.

"Oh, you're done already?"- he asks.

"Don't judge me."- you say and he chuckles.

"No, I'm not judging, just wondering if you're still hungry. I could make you something else?"

"No, no don't worry, Lix. I'm ready for that relaxing bath."- you smile and he nods, biting on his lip.

"Um, can I suggest something?"- he asks as you stand up and you tilt your head at him.

"What is it?"- you ask curiously.

"You know I have some knowledge about massaging. I could help you relieve your stress with a full body massage." - Felix says and your eyes widen. "I mean if you're comfortable with it. You don't have to... ugh forget it."- he seems embarassed suddenly and you chuckle.

"A free full body massage? Sign me up."- you smirk.

"Who said it was free?"- he smirks back at you.

"Oh, so you're gonna charge me for your services, hm?"- you joke and he laughs.

"No, of course not. I'm just joking."- he says. "Go enjoy the bath I prepared, before it gets cold."- he adds and you make your way to the bathroom.

As soon as you walk in, you gasp, Felix has really made an effort.

He put your favorite bath bomb with bubbles into the water, lit your favorite scented candle and even adjusted the lighting to be less attacking on your tired eyes.

You strip in no time, throwing all your clothes inside the hamper and getting into the bath as quickly as you could.

The water is still warm and it feels wonderful to submerge your weary body into the relaxing feeling.

You close your eyes, leaning your head back on a towel as you feel the relaxation slowly taking you over, traveling through your limbs and making you feel weightless.

The warm and cozy atmosphere that Felix created have you almost falling asleep in the bath as your body slips a little and you sit up with a start, your eyes snapping open.

"Y/n? You okay?"- you hear Felix on the other side of the door.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'll be out soon."

"Okay, I prepared everything for the massage."- he says and you giggle to yourself.

You don't feel too nervous being practically naked in front of Felix as you have known him for a long time and since you've been roommates you have seen each other naked on accident a few times.

He even gave you a few shoulder and back massages when you were in pain from sitting at your desk for too long but he never suggested a full body one.

Curious about it and ready to relax completely, you shower and dry off quickly, putting a bathrobe on and leaving to your room.

"Lix?"- you peek inside and see that he has fluffed up your bed, lit another scented candle and a few normal ones just to add to the atmosphere, and prepared some massage oils.

"Damn, you went all out."- you chuckle.

"I wanna make you feel better."- he smiles sweetly, making your heart flutter a little as you make your way towards the bed.

The two of you stand awkwardly for a few moments before both of you chuckle.

"I should undress, right?"- you smile and Felix nods quickly before turning his back to you and covering his eyes for a good measure.

"Tell me when you're ready to start."- his voice is muffled behind his palms and you giggle as you take the robe off.

You lay down on your stomach, pulling a towel that Felix prepared over your backside and private parts, getting comfy on the soft bed.

"I'm ready."- you say when you find a nice position, your forehead pressed against the end of the pillow so you can breathe, your arms on either sides of you, aligning with your body.

Felix bites on his lip as his eyes roam on your body shamelessly.

"Lix?"- you say and he snaps out of his thoughts.

"Yes, let me grab some lavender oil. It's good for relaxing."- he announces and you mutter, ready to just enjoy having his skilful hands on you.

Felix kneels next to you, as you feel the bed dip and hear him opening the little bottle of oil.

Some light music is playing in the background and you exhale a hundred worries as soon as his fingers press on your shoulders.

"Mm Lixie."- you moan instantly, making his gut stir but he shakes it off, wanting to focus only on your well-being.

His thumbs circle your flesh slowly, going up to the sides of your neck and down the top of your shoulders before pressing back to the original spot, circling it and taking off the stiffness you feel from spending long hours at your desk.

Little moans of relaxation keep coming out of your mouth and Felix's sweatpants get tighter, as your body visibly relaxes.

Working his way down your back, he keeps adding oil and finding the most painful spots skilfully and relieving you of your pain, as if it was his actual career.

"God, Lixie, you're so good."- you whimper, smushing your face into the pillow for a moment.

"I know."- Felix smirks, making you chuckle.

And he does know. He knows exactly which pressure points are located where so when his fingers press into your lower back, just a bit above your ass, you feel a wave wash over you.

"Oh."- you exclaim a little but Felix never acknowledges it, smirking behind you as he gently massages your lower back.

You start feeling a bit hot, aroused even as he continues his ministrations, fingertips barely dipping to the swell of your ass.

Your breathing is slow and deep, your body completely relaxed as you left yourself in Felix's precious hands.

Felix shuffles a little, you hear more oil being opened before you feel his hands on your foot.

"Good?"- he checks in on you and you whimper as he presses and continues bringing you relaxing touches.

"Perfect."- you half-whisper, your mind floaty, all the stress from the week forgotten, no thoughts, just Felix.

Felix, with his soft hands and deep voice, his pretty smile and adorable freckles.

Wait.

Why are you thinking of him like that?

You don't know why, and you don't care as his hands slide above your ankle, he presses four fingers on your skin as if he's measuring something on the inner side before he finds a pressure point and starts working on it.

As soon as his finger finds that spot, you shiver, feeling yourself getting aroused the more he keeps circling that spot.

You would feel embarassed but you're so relaxed that you couldn't care less, your body melting even further into the bed, your arms coming up on either sides of your head as you gently fist the sheets beneath you.

Felix smirks, massaging the point harder, making your arousal drip between your folds, your cunt clenching around nothing.

He notices your slight squirming and that lets him know he's got you right where he wanted you.

He lets go for now, hands sliding up to massage your tired muscles.

At this point, you're aroused, wishing he would touch you where you need him the most and you want to press your legs together but you don't want him to notice that.

Felix already knows, after all, his touches were purposeful and he has wanted you for so long, wanted to be the one to make you feel good.

"Lix."- his nickname almost sounds like a whimper as he runs his hands on the back of your thighs.

"You okay?"- he asks, his fingertips dipping between your legs, touching your inner thighs as he gently starts massaging the flesh.

This is the last straw, your slick is now gushing out and you start feeling embarassed, wondering if he can see it or smell it.

"I-I'm fine."- you whimper as he keeps massaging your thighs.

"You sure?"- he asks, hands sliding up, close to your core and you lean into his touch as you grip the sheets.

"N-no."- you whimper.

"What's wrong?"- Felix smirks, fingertips brushing your asscheeks.

"I- um... I'm horny."- you turn your head sideways to look at him and he hovers over you.

"I know. You're kinda obvious."- he says and you whine.

"You did this on purpose."- you say as he runs his hands on your lower back and waist, making you shiver constantly as you feel ten times more sensitive than usually.

"Would you hate me if I did?"- he bites on his lip, his eyes big and pleading.

"No."- you whisper.

"You want me to continue?"- he asks and you nod.

"Please."

"How about a special massage?"- his voice is low as he slowly removes the towel. "Do I have your permission, angel?"

"Yeah."- you say, legs spreading slightly as you lift up your middle just a bit so he can touch you properly.

Felix groans at you presenting your wetness to him, your forehead buried in the pillow again as you anticipate his touches.

His hands are on your ass, as he gropes and massages them before his fingertips dip between your legs, sliding through your wet folds.

"L-Lixie."- you whimper as he touches you teasingly, fingers gently rubbing around your pussy and towards your other hole, down to your inner thighs again.

You push back into him and he gently grabs your hip.

"Don't move, my honey bee."- he says and you snort.

"Alright, pumpkin pie."- you retort.

"Let me do all the work, you just relax."- he says, fingers sliding through your dripping folds repeatedly, making you clench around nothing constantly, before he finally presses into your clit.

"Mm."- you moan when he starts sliding the pads of his fingers up and down your clit, swollen with arousal and coated in your slick.

You moan quietly as Felix keeps massaging your sensitive clit slowly, up and down, left and right and then circling it and gently pinching it, occasionally dipping his fingertips into your cunt to gather more of your arousal.

You've never had anyone touch you this gently, it was usually a guy just flicking your clit fast when you're about to cum and while that does feel nice, this was a different kind of nice.

You felt tortured in a good way, like Felix was constantly dangling your orgasm in front of your eyes but never letting you get to it.

So much arousal kept gushing out of your pussy that for a moment you thought you were cumming as he kept pressing his fingers into your clit, playing your body expertly, like he's done this many times before.

"Lix- I wanna cum."- you whimper.

"I know love, but be patient. Just a bit more, I promise it's gonna feel amazing."- he coos at you, fingers working your nub faster and with more pressure.

You push back into him again and he grabs your hip as he starts flicking your swollen clit fast.

"Lixie, ah!"- you whine loudly, your slick coating his hand.

"I need you inside me!"- you add, holding onto the sheets.

"Mhm, later. I know you can cum just from this."- he says, as you keep jolting and whining.

You can't believe it's happening but your orgasm hits you like a wave, as you spill onto his hand, moaning loudly as he keeps massaging your sensitive nub.

"Oh fuck!"- you whimper when he slides his fingers to your folds.

"Interested in a deeper massage?"- his voice is low and dark as he leans down to your ear, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

"Mm, please Lixie."- you moan.

He slowly pushes two of his fingers into your sopping cunt, taking him in greedily as you were so relaxed and ready to receive.

Felix adjusts his position between your legs and it doesn't take him long to find your gummy spot.

"Lix!"- you groan when he starts gently fucking into it.

"Feels good?"- he asks, his lips brushing your ear as he scissors you open.

"Heavenly."- you moan out as he fucks you slowly, effectively massaging your walls, making your pussy clench on his fingers constantly, begging for more.

"Just relax."- he says as you keep pushing back on his hand, slowly fucking yourself on his fingers.

"I said relax."- he chuckles, lightly smacking your ass.

You gasp, calming down immediately, surprised by his commanding tone and actions.

You never thought your shy Felix would be handling you like this as you present yourself to him, to use you freely as he wants.

But all he actually wants is to bring you pleasure like you've never felt before, making sure to ruin every man for you so you only belong to him.

Eventually he speeds up, his fingers perfectly hitting your sweet spot and driving you insane, as you drip around him, the wet sounds are so loud that it makes you feel even more aroused.

Felix leans down and unexpectedly starts kissing and gently biting the flesh on your ass as he holds your hip and ruts his fingers fast into you.

"Ah, ah, Lix- Lixie, ah! Felix!"- you moan desperately as you tremble, squirting a fountain as he keeps on fucking into you, prolonging your orgasm as much as he can, teeth sinking into your flesh as you squirm under him.

"Oh..."- you're speechles when he pulls out, you can't feel your legs and your ears are ringing.

"You with me, angel?"- Felix hovers above you as he caresses your head gently.

"That was the best orgasm ever."- you exhale.

"Told you I wanna make you feel better."- he smirks, hearing you praise him boosts his ego and makes his cock twitch and throb painfully inside his tight boxers.

"Is there more?"- you chuckle making him laugh and he gently turns you to lay on your back.

"If you want, I can offer more special massages."- he smirks as his eyes roam all over your body, his hands squeezing your thighs and massaging them gently.

You look down to see his dick straining in his pants.

He follows your eyes and looks down too, just as you hook your fingers in his pants.

"I want your cock, Lixie."- you say as you slowly slide his pants down.

"You do?"- he looks a bit surprised and you giggle.

"Mhm."- you say as you finally free him.

"Oh."- you gasp. "You're a grower."- you add with a smirk.

"Oh shut up."- he looks embarassed suddenly and you start giggling again.

"Come here and kiss me first."- you say and his eyes soften as he leans down to kiss you sloppily, your tongues crashing against each other, his heavy cock pressed against you.

"So pretty."- you bit on his lip as your hands wrap around his length.

"What, my cock?"- he chuckles.

"Mhm. Want it so bad."- you whimper, and Felix groans lowly.

"You can have it, angel. Anything you need."- he says as he slowly pushes inside you.

"Mm. More."- your legs wrap around him, making him hit deeper as he keeps pushing his length inside you until he fills you up to the brim.

"Feeling relaxed?"- he asks, his hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear and gently touch your face.

"Mhm, I have no thoughts at all."- you give him a smile and he chuckles quietly.

"Then, let's keep it that way."- he says as he slowly starts sliding his cock against your walls.

Felix keeps working hard to make you satisified and relaxed, to get you into a state of pure bliss, even if it means putting his own pleasure at the back shelf as he makes you cum on his cock over and over again.

He fucks you until you're shaking and crying, gripping at his biceps and clawing at his back, whimpering how sensitive you are, your pussy sloppy and shaped to fit his cock, which is when he finally lets go, cumming inside you hard, filling you up with his hot cum.

And when you fall asleep in his arms, a small blissful smile on your face, Felix knows he has accomplished his mission.

And he will do it again in a heartbeat, anything to make you feel better.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger