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skylarsblue · 1 year

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✦Slashers with a Male(“dominant”)S/O✦

✧AMAB!Reader, implied to be on the tall & broad side, also a lil southern cause I wrote this when I was tired and my southern accent took over. ✧Danny Johnson(He/They), Bubba Sawyer(He/She/They), Stu Macher(He/Him), Billy Loomis(He/Him), & Brahms Heelshire(He/Him)

NSFW Warning; some headcanons & implications

✦Danny Johnson ~ Ghostface✦

Danny is pansexual, I will defend that til the day I die. He doesn't give a single fuck, as long as he gets to fuck. He has a typical type when it comes to men but it's never concrete. That being said, his usual type is dudes who look like they could snap him in half. Because that's what they want.

He's usually the dominant type, but he's all for being a pillow princess if the dynamic is right. But! They have to really like you, they're not a cheap whore...most of the time. Point is, he has to be fascinated with you as much as he is attracted to you, which they are. Lucky you.

Let's assume you're a survivor for this. All the survivors are pretty unique, but you being new should help your case. But what will really get Danny interested is seeing you match his energy. Flirting with him when you evade an attack, blowing a kiss before you leave through the hatch, wolf-whistling if you catch them crouched behind something. It throws him off but he's a bit too flattered to stay annoyed. A surefire way to get them obsessed with you though is to struggle when he tries to mori you. And if you're successful, keeping your cool as you pin them back? You might feel something poking your thigh in record time.

Danny's the lovable kind of annoying. Which is confusing, given the fact he's a murderous psychopath and most likely a narcissist. Matching his flirty and energetic ADHD-ass nature will get their crush to develop further. It'll be unhealthy but you're not here for someone mentally stable.

Expect him to follow you everywhere, take a million pictures of you, he probably brags about you to other killers. They're honestly sick of him shoving pictures of you taking your shirt off, taken from a distance without your knowledge.

They're a cuddly bitch, and they're incredibly starved for human contact. You're gonna need to carry him. Complain all you want. He has mommy/daddy issues and he wants to be held like a baby, damnit.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

Did I mention pillow princess? Yeah. When Danny's the dominant partner in a relationship, sexual or romantic, he puts in all the work without any complaint. He doesn't mind his partner just laying there and enjoying it. Makes him feel accomplished. But sometimes a bitch needs pampering. That's where you come in.

They're an extreme masochist as much as they are a sadist. You could put the hot metal of a lighter to his thigh and he'd probably cum in his pants. Pulling his hair is the easiest way to put him in his place if he's being a bit too mouthy. And they will beg you for marks if you don't put them there yourself. He wants to be sore after it all, damnit!

Panting, Ghostface let out a little laugh from behind their mask as he settled over you, knife raised. "Finally caught you, sweetheart. Tell you what, you're a good runner. But I won.~" He hummed raising a gloved hand to your hair in order to pull your head back, slice your neck. Danny inhaled and went to jab his knife into your jugular, only to let out a rather unmanly yelp when you suddenly jostled them. Able to completely flip around, tossing them off as if they weighed nothing. The muderer's camera landed in the grass and his hands were trapped above him by yours. He blinked in awe behind his mask, watching your chest rise and fall. "If there's one thing I hate 'bout y'all killers, it's the goddamn ego." You smiled as you spoke. For once, the talkative killer didn't reply. "What? Cat got your tongue, Casper? You were talkin' a bunch of smack befo-" You paused and glanced down. Danny swallowed as you let out a quiet chuckle. "Well I'll be damned...shoulda known you'd be into this kinda thing. Gross lil' fucker." They cleared their throat awkwardly as you tapped their mask. Danny inhaled and pulled back some of their dignity. "Should expect everything from me, big guy." He retorted. "Suppose I should, huh?...well, Ghostie. Rest of the team's down and I ain't got a clue where that hatch is. Might as well make the most of it, eh?" Perhaps a terrible idea, but exciting nonetheless.

✦Bubba Sawyer ~ Leatherface✦

SHE DESERVES A STRONG HUSBAND TO HELP HER AROUND THE HOUSE.

That aside, Bubba's not necessarily in the most accepting time or house. His brothers still poke fun at him sometimes when he dresses femininely, but have mostly grown to accept it. And I can't see Chop-Top as not being the type to mess around with a guy occasionally, so while they probably say ignorant stuff every now and then, I don't think it's those three that'd be the problem. It's the forties. Everyone else is gonna have something to say. Assure Bubba it's not a problem for you, she'll be over the moon.

They've tended to be into women and feminity in the past, but don't let that fool you, they are very bisexual. It especially helps if you're the sweet-talking type. Bubba is very easily thrown off by flirting.(Looking at you, Stretch) That and gentleness. Be a gentleman and you got Bubba swooning, especially if you're like that even after they've shown you they're cannibals.

We all know Bubba's not super dominant, at all. She's rather submissive and it's usually taken advantage of, since she struggles saying no. And they rarely get thank you's. Proper praise will get you a long, long way.

Pick. Bubba. Up. Pick her up. Do it. Pick them up and carry them around like a precious husband wife because that's what they are. They deserve it, their legs probably hurt from working all day!

Helping out around the house in general will score you major points. Especially if you aid in the process of getting food, that'll get you points with the rest of the family too. The more good word you have in Bubba's family, the more they'll be willing to keep you, because Bubba's love for you is honestly the only thing keeping you alive.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

Praise. Praise praise praise praise, praise and compliments all over the place. Bubba has been nothing but criticized their entire life, if there's anything they need both in and out of sexual experiences, it's words of affirmation. They're even more submissive when underneath you. Because(southern accent activated), lawd almighty what a big strong man you are!~ Oh also, call them good girl/good boy/good baby.

Bubba's got no fuckin' clue what to do. They've only occasionally seen a dirty magazine or the clip of a porn movie that Chop-Top left on the old TV. You're gonna need to teach them basically everything. Just make sure you're gentle, because Bubba is sensitive and they need patience when it come to new things. God forbid they have an overstimulated meltdown during something that's supposed to bring you two closer together.

The old floorboards whined under your weight as you looked around the old house. "Pardon me, but uh...is anyone here?!" You called. "I don't mean to intrude, I was just wonderin' if I could borrow some water..." You voice trailed off at the sight of an...oddly furnished room. A bench made of bones, a chicken in a cage, feathers everywhere. More and more bones that were no doubt human. Alarm bells rang in your skull, amplified when there was a heavy slam of a metal door being opened, and quick footsteps. You took a defensive stance when you saw a large figure appear, dressed a button up, cowboy boots, old pants and a stained yellow apron. They held a hammer in thick hands and looked around, letting out animalistic like squeals and distressed grunts, until they spotted you. Though typically the fight type, you couldn't seem to do that or resort to flight, stuck in place. Their hands waved a bit and they ran at you full force. For a moment, your gaze fell on a cracked floorboard, one you'd avoided coming in. "Whoa hey now, wait-!" Too late, they stepped on it and it gave way, sending their leg through the floor. They whined and kicked, getting more distressed by the moment. "Hey!" They snapped their gaze up to you. It took a lot of willpower not to cringe at the sight of their mask. Instead approaching slowly with your hands open and in front of you. "Easy, alright? Relax. You're just gonna get yourself hurt thrashin' 'round like that." The stranger let out more noises of distress. "Relax, sweetheart, I ain't gonna hurt'cha." They stopped moving as soon as the pet name left your mouth. Confused, likely. They let out a little concerned whimper as you knelt down and tugged the floorboard next to the broken one. It pulled up and their leg was freed. "Look, see? Nothin' to worry 'bout. Just gotta be careful with these old floors. They give way real easy." They twisted the hammer around in their hands, standing rather stiff as you rose to your full height. Not much different from theirs. You exhaled and introduced yourself by your name. "I apologize for just bargin' in, door was open and I kinda thought this place wasn't occupied. I was just lookin' for a drink if that's alright?" You asked. They shifted their weight from side to side, shyly. Were you insane for considering this cute? Probably, but that wasn't a concern at the moment. They eventually nodded. "Yeah? Well alright then, thank ya, sweetheart. I really appreciate it." They squeaked at the pet name again and flapped their hands, pushing their face into the palms. You chuckled softly. Nearly killed only to charm the attacker, only in Texas.

✦Stu Macher ~ Ghostface✦

Stu. Is. So. Fucking. Gay. Extremely gay. “Oh but Tatu-“ SHHHH, gay. He’s a switch with a casually dominant personality, but he’s not really a dominant person. He’s just intense. He’s actually pretty gullible, especially when looking for praise or approval. Man likes to be included.

He's got a bit of a type for soft-spoken alternative dudes. Like, quiet & brooding. Basically the opposite of himself. You could say anything and if it's said in the right tone, he'll go with it. Why do you think Billy had such an easy time manipulating him?

If you're taller than him, which means over 6'4", bonus points. Major bonus points. Because that's rare and he's a whore.

Proving that you can handle yourself in dangerous situations, or that you can completely whoop ass? Stu finds that super attractive. Especially if you don't even instigate it. The whole "I don't start fights but I finish them" thing is extremely sexy to him.

He's gonna stalk you, just so you know, but he's not very good at it. Stu's a bit too loud and obvious. But he's definitely gonna try and impede your schedule so you two can constantly bump into each other, he thinks he's being subtle but he's not. It's endearing if you don't look too hard at it.

He's not necessarily the ride-or-die type with Billy in the picture, no matter how hot you are. HOWEVER, if you somehow get in on the Ghostface plot? And you're cool with it? Oh now he HAS to suck your dick, it's just a requirement. Especially if you help out directly. Depending on how you treat him and if you're manipulative enough, you might even replace Billy in Stu's mental throne. But you'd have to put in the work, don't expect it to be easy.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

With Stu, you don't really need a dominant or submissive relationship. It kinda just...exists, and that can be very refreshing! He's really not picky on whether or not he's top or bottom, he just likes feeling good. That being said, he has an affinity for oral. Giving or receiving. And he's unfairly good at it.

Pillow. Talk. Do it, all the time. If you want Stu to be your mushy-brained-bitch, use pillow talk. Saying the right things in a soft, breathy tone could be enough to make him jizz in his pants. Just expect him to be just as vulgar in return, and he has no shame, he'll do it in public. Match his energy.

Music flowed from a stereo in the kitchen, mixing with the voices of high school seniors and the clinking of alcohol bottles. Stu's house was known for great parties, especially around Halloween. He enjoyed the atmosphere of social gatherings and he made for a great, unconventional host. Ensuring everyone was as drunk as they wanted and everyone felt comfortable to let loose. He jumped out from behind a corner with a mask on, it smelt of booze and weed and he'd simply found it resting on his dining room table. Two girls, both dressed as angels, screamed. One smacked him in the chest after he took off the mask whilst laughing. Stu sipped some beer from a red solo cup as he meandered through his entryway. "Stu!" A junior girl that he sometimes asked to do his homework skipped up to him, smiling as she held a new model cellphone in her hand. "My cousin just called me cause he's new in town, can I invite him over? He's the same age as you and-" She squeaked when Stu hugged her into his side casually. "Shhhshhh your explanations, sweetheart! Call'em! But he better be cool!" He insisted. She grinned and quickly dialed back her cousin as Stu chugged back the rest of his alcohol.

It was hard hearing the heavy knock on the door about thirty minutes later, but Stu prided himself on how good his hearing was, despite all the music he tended to blast. He didn't get to the door before the same girl ran up with a smile. What was her name again? Stella? "That's probably him!" She exclaimed excitedly as Stu swung the front door open. It caught him off guard that he had to look up instead of down. His mouth grew dry as he was met face-to-face with a motorcycle helmet. "Oh, sorry." The stranger's voice was muffled and their gloved hands rose to hoist the helmet off, they quickly fixed their hair. "Thanks for the invite, I'm guessin' you're Stu?"

"The one and only! Nice to meet'cha cowboy. Got any booze?" Stu was excellent at quick recovery. You dug into your pocket for a moment and pulled out a small shot-bottle of vodka. "'Specially for the host." You said, Stu grinned and took it, stepping aside and dramatically motioning for you to enter. Stella began rambling off to you about how happy she was you were in town whilst Stu just...stared. It was noticeable at this point, which made you look over. "You want a picture, big guy?" Stu felt horniness sucker punch him in the ribs. "Nah, I'm good with staring!" He grinned. He swallowed as you snickered. "Alrighty then, feel free." Stu would be staring at you a lot. A whole lot.

✦Billy Loomis ~ Ghostface✦

Did someone say INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA?? It's so obvious. Now, I think Billy is bisexual, but he's hella hesitant to admit he's into dudes. For the sake of his dad, the idea of a dude having more power than him, and the time period? It's not easy for him to just be cool with it when it comes to himself.

That being said, Billy's more of a bottom than he'd like to admit. And it comes out with dudes that are bigger than him, and it's even worse if they're not easy to manipulate. Which you're not. That pisses him off so much.

Rule of thumb with a Ghostface? Energy matching. Be just as smooth-voiced and eerily calm and he's gonna have heart palpitations. It pisses him off so bad that he can't affect you.

To be completely honest, he's gonna try and stab you because he's an angsty teenage boy who can't handle his feelings so it's easier to get rid of the cause. Of course, it's not that easy. You don't make it easy, and that also makes him more into you. He likes the adrenaline of a struggle.

What'll really get him is if you somehow get him vulnerable, which will take a blue-moon and 1/10,000 type of luck odds. But not take advantage of it. Don't pity him and don't poke at him, just...being there. Even trying to lighten the mood, that kind of thing gets any angry boy with mommy issues to get at least a lil soft.

If you know he's Ghostface and ask to help, especially if he just tried to kill you? Bro how dare you...offer something so sexy, of course he's gonna say yes. But don't ask to be a Ghostface. He's comfortable with being in control of that aspect. But you can help with things like the gameplay or the information on victims, or being an alibi. If you can be an alibi put on the spot? Mm, so sexy.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

Look, I know Billy probably isn't a bottom at all, but this is fiction and I can do whatever I want. And I say Billy Loomis is a reluctant pillow princess. Reluctant because of internalized homophobia and a fear of being vulnerable, but we're gonna lie to ourselves and say that you somehow managed to get past that.

You're gonna need to have the patience of a saint. No hard doms here, ironically. He likes a power struggle, but what really gets him is you being in control and calm. Like you don't have to try. Oddly enough that kind of thing is comforting. It feels like he's relinquishing control to someone who knows what they're doing, rather than someone flying blind.

Billy chucked the burner phone as hard as he could into the woods surrounding Stu's house before bending down and ensuring his knife was properly strapped down. Hidden under his jeans and boots. The music from inside was headache-inducing. Stu was far more sociable than Billy, he had never been much of a party person, aside from the booze. He was more of a homebody.

He walked around the house and went over his alibi story a few more times as he hopped onto the porch, ringing the doorbell. It swung open to Stu, who was very clearly buzzed, if not just straight drunk. "Billy! Baby, my man, c'mere. I gotta introduce you to this dude." Billy didn't get a chance to speak as Stu pulled him inside, rambling on. The teen sighed and rolled his eyes. "Aight, Bill, this is the new guy that's coming to our school next week." Stu motioned to you. Significantly taller than him and probably twice as broad, holding an air of natural intimidation and a stern expression. But it softened when you turned.

"Oh, you're Billy? Stu kept talkin' bout you. Nice to meet you." You held out a large gloved hand, mentioning your name. Billy held up his fist instead, which you quickly adjusted to make it a fist bump. "Bill, this dude is so cool. He's got like a ton of motorcycles and a fuck ton of knives-" Stu slurred. "I have two motorcycles, one of which isn't even technically mine. And I have a collection of pocket knives, he's exaggerating." You smiled. "Oh! You two wait here, I'm gonna get you both some booze." You didn't have a chance to deny the offer before Stu rushed off.

Billy stood with his arms crossed, tongue tucked into his cheek. "Introvert?" You asked. "Hm? Oh uh, yeah, more or less." He replied, to which you nodded. "Yeah, I'm not much for parties either. I'm just here for my cousin. Definitely wasn't my plan for tonight." Billy blew some of his hair out of his face, leaning on a wall. "Then what was your plan?" "Watching scary movies." You replied, and maybe it wasn't intentional, but you noticed how he perked up. "Yeah? You a big horror fan?" He inquired. You nodded with a growing smile. "Oh yeah, especially the gory ones. They're the most fun. Do you like scary movies?" You asked. Billy nodded. "Mhm." "What's your favorite scary movie?" He felt a shiver run down his spine as you tilted your head, probably unaware of just how significant the word choice was. Billy smiled and rested the back of his head against the wall. For a moment, slightly lowering his guard as he grinned slyly. "Guess."

✦Brahms Heelshire ~ The Boy✦

How the fuck did you manage to make that happen? We have no idea. Assuming you're a nanny, that is. There's always a chance you work for the Heelshire's for a different reason. (my boy @disc0dild0s has a fic like this on Wattpad, y'all should look at it)

But for my personal wants, we're gonna say you're the nanny, and you somehow meandered your way into a position. Maybe the Heelshire's were just extremely desperate for anyone at that point that they basically told Brahms to deal with it. He has no choice, really. He's gonna be the biggest brat because you're not the pretty woman he asked his parents for.

Yet, seeing how well you handle the job, all the patience you have and the kind demeanor you carry, it intrigues him. Until eventually he's attached. He doesn't know what exactly to do with the emotions, because it feels the same way as it did back when he had female nannies, but...you're a man. Isn't that weird? You can thank his old ass parents for that.

When he reveals himself, it's probably an accident. He's worried you'll run away of course, but part of him is also worried you'll whoop his ass. You're bigger than him and he's seen you hoist shit up no problem when cleaning the mansion. Which is very sexy as much as it is intimidating.

But there goes your gentle nature again, despite how you look. You don't run away even if you probably should, and you don't whoop his ass. Brahms is so hooked after that.

He's not going to make it easy for you. He's got it built in his head that he's the man of the house, that's what his father was trying to turn him into after all. But he is not, you are. You may follow his rules but you also keep him in line, you do all the work, and you could probably snap him in half. He can't just outright admit he enjoys it but he does. Especially when he's feeling sensitive and vulnerable. It's comforting to be carried around by a big strong man, probably more than it should be.

𖤐Bonus NSFW𖤐

B O T T O M . Holy shit he's a fuckin' bottom. And a pillow princess, for sure. He's there to feel good, what do you mean you want him to do some of the work?

Brahms is horny as hell but he's not really sure what to do. Teaching him what to do as a woman is difficult, but at least he's read some books to have a very hazy idea. Two men? There's like...two books in that library within it that he probably isn't aware are there. But he's willing to learn, as long as it feels good.

"Brahms? Brahms! Come on, Brahms, I'm not mad, you can come out! I wasn't trying to make fun of you!" You called. The only response you got was the echo of your own voice bouncing back from the walls. You sighed, resting your hands on your hips. It really was a misunderstanding. It had been a month and a half since Brahms had been caught outside the walls. It had been quite the experience. Freaky, but, the reality of his situation was heartwrenching, and his pleading for you not to leave really solidified it. It didn't feel right to leave. So you stayed, now properly caring for a grown man instead of a doll.

He was a man, even if he had these slips in mentality where he acted like a kid. But being an adult with barely any contact, affectionate or otherwise, could lead to some issues. One of which caused Brahms to grow extremely embarrassed recently, which was why he'd retreated into the walls. He'd gotten a pretty obvious boner from just a hug, something you had noticed and lightly teased him for. It was an attempt at lightening the mood but it backfired. You'd given him some time, hoping it would settle down and you could talk to him properly. Unfortunately, an hour had passed and he still wasn't out. Now dinner was nearly done and you didn't want him skipping a meal.

Though the dust would've made your allergies hell, you approached a mirror in one of the sitting rooms, setting it up on a wall before slipping through the cutout behind it. You'd never properly gone into the walls, but you'd heard and seen Brahms use the pathways. You rubbed your nose as you took an inhale, immediately burning from all the dust. "No wonder he coughs all the time...poor baby." You muttered as you began walking. It was confusing and you were far more lost than you'd anticipated, but eventually, you saw the glimpse of a bedside lamp.

You were quiet as you approached. Brahms' inner bedroom was...well, sad. Given he felt the need to live all hidden in the walls on an old bed without support, cobwebs everywhere. You could only imagine how bad his lungs would be if he'd been left in here any longer than he had. The man laid on the mattress in the corner, facing the wall, hugging something you could recognize. A sweater that had gone missing from your luggage a while ago. You sighed as you stood, crossing your arms. "Brahms." Your voice made him harshly flinch, scrambling to sit up and push himself more into the corner.

He let out a sad noise and shrank back, making you frown more. "Hey, hey, don't do that. I'm not here to chastise you." You said softly, walking closer. You tried not to think of the cleanliness of his bed as you sat down, keeping some distance so he didn't feel pressured. "Brahms, sweetheart, can you look at me please?" He did as asked, probably because of the pet name. "I'm not upset or anything, you know that, right? I was just trying to make light of it. I wasn't trying to embarrass you." You explained as Brahms picked at a string in the sweater.

"'s embarassing." He muttered. His voice teetered between states, but was overall soft and muffled. "I know, and I'm sorry for teasing you. But it's okay, it's not like you can help it." You reassured. "But, but...but you're a man..." Brahms replied. Oh. You sighed and glanced at the wall, thinking. "Yes, but, that doesn't have to mean anything. I'm sure you've been told that's weird but it's really not. I like men." You shrugged, a bit caught off guard by how shocked Brahms seemed. "Really?" "I- pfft, yeah? Do you think I go around flirting with just every guy friend I have? No." You smiled. Brahms' face grew warm and red under his mask. "I...I didn't know, I wasn't really sure."

"Well yes, I was flirting with you. You can take that how you will. And if something like that happens again, we can deal with it or we can not. But you don't have to run from me, okay?" You whispered, holding out a hand for him to take. He hesitated but did so, even though he didn't move closer either. "Regardless of the situation, you don't need to hide. I don't want you to feel that way with me. Okay?" Brahms swallowed and messed with a ring you wore. He sighed and nodded shyly. His first instinct was always to hide, even if it always made him feel worse after doing it. "Good boy, now come on, it's dinner time and I don't want it getting cold." You stood up and he did the same, messing with the sweater. "You can keep that if you want." Brahms glanced at the fabric. It had some cobwebs on it and a few flyaway strings from him picking at it, but he took off his cardigan and put it over his head. You chuckled and took the opportunity to kiss his temple, putting him more at ease. "We can talk more about it later. Let's get you some food first. Now, help me get out of here because I nearly got lost at least four times." Brahms snickered quietly and walked ahead of you.

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your-averagewriter · 3 days

Text

Lipstick kisses.

Summary: At the wrap party, Cooper and (y/n) get closer and closer before (y/n) leaves him with some lipstick marks as a reminder and a promise for later (pre apocalypse!Cooper Howard x fem!reader).

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: kissing, sexual references

“Right here in the vaults is where you can live, so get your spot now before they run out and you can be as happy as us.” I say, looking into the camera, wearing a Vault-Tec suit that is molded to my body. Cooper’s arm is wrapped around my waist as we wear matching smiles, playing husband and wife for one of the new ads. They’re cheesy but they pay well and afford me a spot in one of the vaults which I wouldn’t be able to pay for myself.

“She’s right.” He places a well-planned kiss on my cheek. “It’s as easy as pie.” Cooper says, winking and dipping his finger in the apple pie they left for the shoot. “These walls allow us to stay safe and live the all-American lifestyle, they keep out the radiation and the Reds.” He says into the camera and it finishes filming.

“That’s a wrap.” Someone from behind the camera says.

“Great, are we done then?” I ask and everyone disperses, including Cooper and me.

“Wrap party.” Someone pats me on the shoulder, I turn around and it’s Cooper.

“Wrap party? We’ve only filmed a few ads, it’s not like we filmed a movie.”

“Damn feels like it sometimes with all the takes.” I chuckle.

“So where’s the party?”

“My house starts at 8:00, most people won’t turn up until past 8:30 - you know how parties go.”

“Well, I’ll see you later then.” I say with a small smile before walking away to get into my usual clothes and head home before going to Coop’s party.

Getting home, I lay out my outfit, picking out a long red dress that is form-fitting and pack a little black handbag with my matching lipstick, a box of cigarettes, a lighter, keys and phone. Double-checking my makeup in the mirror, I slip on my heels before leaving and driving to Cooper’s house.

There’s a crash on one of the roads so the traffic is awful as I try to get to the wrap party but I end up getting there quite a bit later than expected - definitely past 8:30. Finally I pull up, having to park down the hill a little due to all the good car spaces already being taken.

It’s a short walk to get to his house, when I go to knock on the door, it’s already open and I can hear the music vibrating throughout the house.

I navigate my way through the people, talking to some as they greet me - being one of the main actors in the advertiser means my name is plastered on the billboards. I find the kitchen easily despite the people crowding it and pour myself a drink in the tacky red cups.

I busy myself with the drink, trying to ignore the eyes on my figure, noticing that I didn’t understand the dress code, ending up in a much fancier outfit than anyone else. Tiring of the loud noise and not seeing anyone I truly knew, I head outside, walking over to one of the benches, facing away from the building and towards the pool and pulling out my cigarette pack and lighter. I place a cigarette in between my lips and try to light it but my lighter doesn’t work.

I flick the lighter again and again.

“Hey darlin’, need some help?” I turn around to face Cooper with his lighter in hand. Looking up at him, he lights the cigarette for me.

“Thanks.” He sits down on the bench next to me.

“Not enjoying the party, sweetheart?”

“I don’t really know anyone here. They’re all on the business side of things and they seem to know me, it freaks me out.” I chuckle, taking a drag from the cigarette.

“Well, at least you look the part.” He grins. “You look stunnin’.”

“Thank you, I feel like I stick out.”

“You always stick out ‘cause you’re so pretty.”

“Not what I meant.” I chuckle as he takes the cigarette from my hand, lingering a second longer, his eyes on mine before lifting it up to his mouth and taking a long drag.

“Oh, I know exactly what you meant and I still think it’s a good thing. Don’t know how I didn’t see you sooner with this little get-up.”

I look him up and down, looking at the suit he’s wearing. “Since when did you wear suits?” I take another hit.

“Since I got a reputation.”

“I like you better with your cowboy attire.” I show a slightly dopey smile, maybe slightly influenced by the drinks I had earlier…

“Me too, darlin’, me too.” He laughs, taking a sip of a glass of whiskey he brought out with him. “I’ll wear the cowboy hat for you next time. Maybe we could have a party for two, dinner maybe.”

“Are you asking me out for dinner?”

“I’m asking you in for dinner. I make a mean spaghetti bolognese.” He wears a small grin on his face. “So what do you say?”

“That sounds nice. I like pasta. And you, of course.” I say, turning to properly face him, blowing a ring of smoke towards him with a smile

“Well, that’s good because I like you quite a bit.” He leans forward slightly, matching my smile, and moving forward slightly.

“Cooper, (y/n)! I hope I’m not interrupting.” Sebastian walks over, sitting down on the bench opposite the both of us.

“‘Course not.” I say, quickly pulling away with a slightly flustered look.

“You were interrupting actually, Sebastian. I was just about to kiss this pretty lady.” Both the men laugh while I sit there looking mildly embarrassed.

“Well then, I’ll be on my way. Hopefully I’ll see you later on, if you two don’t get too carried away that is.” He jokes, laughing.

“So embarrassing.” I mumble, head in hands once Sebastian leaves.

“I was just being honest, sweetheart. Now, where were we?” I look back up at him.

He pushes his lips against mine gently as I reciprocate, matching the delicate nature - almost as if he thinks I'll break. After a few seconds I pull away and can't help but chuckle as I look at his face.

“What? What is it?” He asks with a small grin.

“Nothing.” I decide not to tell him about the lipstick smudged on his lips. “Sorry.” I chuckle.

“C’mere, you.” He says, arm around my waist to pull me closer to him, a smirk on his face before he presses his lips against mine again.

I wrap my arms around his neck, resting them as we pull each other closer. I pull back to press a few kisses to his jaw, relishing the little lipstick kisses that are left behind.

“You're a little minx, you are.” He mumbles, I smile softly against his skin, continuing before making my way back to his lips.

I feel one of his hands travel up my thigh, his rough hands against the smooth skin exposed by the slit in my dress. He caresses the skin gently, rubbing little circles.

I play with his hair, my arms still resting over his shoulders gives me access to the back of his head also allowing me to pull him closer.

I feel his fingers reach under the slit of my dress and I pull back to reach for the hand with a conflicted smile.

“Cooper.” I say almost like a warning. “We're at your party and in your garden.”

“I don't mind.” He shrugs with a dopey smile.

“I mind.” I say, “Besides, people will be looking for you.” I stand up, holding his hand and leading him to stand as well. “C’mon.”

“Fine.” He huffs, worried he's missing out as he walks back into his house.

I lean over until my mouth is just by his ear.

“Y'know, if you wanted I could stay back a little later?” I whisper but it’s barely a question as I already know the answer, pulling back with a teasing smile before walking away again, leaving him with the lipstick marks as I find a bathroom to reapply my lipstick with a knowing smile.

Re-joining the party, I try to socialise with some other people but I make sure to keep an eye on Cooper talking to people trying to hide their hushed chuckles. Finally, I watch someone break the news to him as he walks over to one of the mirrors in his house, turning his face to examine the damage before he looks over at him. I send a small smile, feigning innocence as he shakes his head.

“Little minx.” He mumbles with a small grin.

AN: I hope you enjoyed reading!

I'm actually in love with Cooper, I swear (Ghoul form and not)

If you want a part two to this fic then let me know (I don't write smut though)!

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ghouljams · 8 months

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I love witch darling and Price they have my whole heart (and Liebling and Konig bc I'm a sucker for straight pairings where the woman could say "heel" and the big scary guy would listen)

I just love the idea of visible claims, beyond just the obvious sexy stuff of "marked, now you're mine." Bc the way you wrote it it's more a sign of how long they've been together, how familiar they are, how much they long to have something somewhat tangible as a reminder that they're there for each other. It's an intimacy of knowing one another

Price and Witch being so intertwined that Price meets up with the other Fae boys and is confused at why they're shuffling uncomfortably until he realises he has Witches magic all over him and not only did he not notice bc he's become so used to their presence that it's a comfort but the fact that it's there means they have become so used to his presence they automatically warded him a little bit, not intentionally or through any rituals but their intent of wanting to protect him and keep him safe (and maybe even mark him what? Who said that?) Wrapped around him like a loving embrace. For a couple who's interactions started off measured and contract-like its a real step up to the point that welcoming him is as easy as breathing. (Loving someone like breathing)

Witch goes about their day perfectly happy until they notice something in the corner of their eye and see Prices magic clinging to their doorway, a sign to ward off any unwelcome visitors. And they should be mad at him but... the last time he was here was days ago and if they confront him they have to admit to themselves and him that it took them that long to notice after days of walking past, just accepting it as normal.

Witch wrapping their hair and their thoughts aren't even on Price but somehow their ambient love of him worms it's way into the intentions (I love hair wrapping btw)

Price having a stressful day and when he gets home (does he have a home? He feels a little bit like a bum that just waits to annoy Witch) he feels himself relax. And he's confused bc yeah this is his territory so it's safe but he's never felt the tension leave his body so quickly, until he notices he conveniently sat on the floor, right near his cigar tray, at the perfect height to smell the ashes from one of Witch's cigars.

I'm going to write just little snippets for all of these.

Everything feels warmer after leaving you, lighter, safer. Price lights a cigar while his boys watch him carefully. He raises a brow at them through the fingering smoke. If one of them has something to say they'd be best advised to get it over with. Soap nudges Gaz, who shakes his head quickly and nudges Ghost, who promptly throws Gaz under the bus.

"Gaz wants to say something," Ghost announces.

"You've gotten worse," Gaz tells him with a glare, "Why do I hafta do it?"

"'Cause he won't be mad at you," Soap chimes in. Gaz groans and leans forward, his elbows on the table.

"You're toting around Witch wards," Gaz is flat out with it, Price'll give him that.

"Am I?" It's barely a question in tone, but is he? He hadn't noticed. Now that he thinks about it though, he can still feel where your hands settled on his chest, your lips on his cheek telling him to take care. Your magic wraps around him like a blanket, ambient and comforting. That explains the warmth. Cheeky little thing, he should've known you'd pull something like this. You can't help yourself.

The part that gets him though, is he hadn't noticed. He always notices foreign magic like an allergic reaction. It itches his skin, gives him headaches. Especially witch's magic, he should've felt that immediately. Oil and water, it should have done something to him, caused a reaction of some sort. Yet even his smoke seemed clingier, soft with you.

He tugs at the lingering magic, feels it purr like a particularly clingy kitten. Well, it's not hurting anyone. It can stay.

"You're as bad as Ghost, you know that?" Gaz shakes his head. Ghost glares at him.

"When did I become the fuckin' benchmark?" He asks angrily.

It's been sitting quietly at the edge of your magical perception for days before you actually notice it. Passing through your front door you have to stop at the unfamiliar ward. You cast your eyes about as if you could see it, but come up short. Something in the familiarity of it worms its way into your brain and directs you where to look. How silly that you hadn't noticed him put his own protections on you.

You press your hand to the worn wood of your door frame with a smile. You can feel the residual magic Price must have left, how did you miss it? It's so clear and foreign to your own wards, that you should have noticed immediately. Even the edges of your wards have grown around it like one tree absorbing another. Strange that your magic would notice before you did, but you suppose you've grown so used to Price's magic it's become almost second nature to you. You can almost feel his hand under yours, fond, affectionate, warning anything that might pass by.

You take your hand off the door frame to touch your fingers to your lips, kissing them before tapping them against Price's seal. For luck, you think.

You're half way through rubbing lotion onto your arms when you notice you're feeling very pink. Not just you, your magic, your being. You check the bottle you're using, it's not any spell you're not used to, weird. You finish up with your body lotion and when the pink feeling doesn't dispel you go to check your shower to make sure you didn't mix any strange ingredients into your usual scrubs. You can't have any strange magic working on you when you see Price tomorrow or you'll have to cancel your date.

Date. You probably shouldn't call it that when you see him daily, but it feels special every time. He kisses you like it's special every time, like he'll never get another chance for it. You press your fingers to your lips with a giddy smile, feel the pink magic bubble happily.

You pick through your products with a witch's unintentional intent. Rose, rosemary, lilac, iris, weaving your little love spell into your skin and bubbling over with your happy thoughts. You'll school your emotions later, for now you're enjoying this. Besides, you don't have any clients scheduled for tomorrow, who cares if your magic is a little messy?

"Y'smell good," Price tells you when you see him, his arms around you as he presses his lips to any skin he can find. You direct his lips back to yours and feel the pink tinge him as his tongue drags against yours. His magic bleeds against yours, pulls as eagerly as his hands do until you're shivering against his chest.

You tip your head back as he kisses your throat, breathes you in with heavy intent. His beard tickles, scratchy but soft in a way that makes you think he takes meticulous care of it. His tongue drags against your pulse, his teeth sharp when they nibble your jaw.

"Y'know you don't need love spells for me, Sweatheart," He whispers in your ear and you feel heat pop over your cheeks, more embarrassed than anything else. Gods, that's what that is, isn't it?

"Date cancelled," You tell him a little breathless with him still kissing your neck. You whack his shoulders with your hands to get him off, "Price I need to wash all this off of me, you are going to make it worse."

"Fine by me," He tells you calmly, making no move to stop. You think he does this on purpose sometimes. Bastard.

Price kicks the door shut behind him, barely remembers to turn the lights on before he's collapsed back against his couch. The soft moonlight through the windows is less comforting and more indicative of how over-fucking-worked he is. Gaz has to start coming to court with him, take some of this load before it breaks his fucking back.

He exhales deeply, feels the billow of smoke release from his lungs. Unspent magic. It hooks itself to the walls and ceiling, hanging like kudzu vines, threatening to strangle anything that challenges its path forwards. He breathes in, feels the ash of his morning cigar swirl and spark. Soft and familiar. Yours, he smiles to himself.

You've made a sweet habit of gifting him cigars. Simple tobacco in tobacco, it shouldn't make a spell like this, but you are a wonder. He can smell your hopes while you were making this, the residual magic of your intent. "Remember me" Your ashes whisper to him, "Let me bring you peace, happiness."

It shouldn't surprise him to feel his muscles unwind, dragged down by your gentle magic. He can almost feel your fingers on his jaw tipping his head back onto the arm of the couch, your lips against his forehead imploring him to relax. How could he ever refuse your ministrations.

#I do love the idea of witch wrapping her hair or putting it in curlers #but I also know I have short haired readers #so just some nightly routine stuff #john price x oc #cod x reader #x reader #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain price x oc #captain price x reader #captain price cod #captain price #oc: witch #They're so disgusting I wanna gag #Anyway do you wanna take over writing for them because you fucking get it

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tgmsunmontue · 2 months

Text

Short Hangster mini-fic set post-mission on the carrier.

He’s not asleep. Lying in his rack and trying to calm his mind. He took another life today. He’d do it again. In a heartbeat, but it doesn’t make it weigh any lighter inside his heart or mind. Doesn’t help sleep come and quiet his mind any faster. He hears the three taps on his wall and pulls back the little curtain, half-expecting Javy to be standing there, it’s not. Instead it’s Rooster, looking tired but so alive he feels a welling-up of just sheer relief that he saved his life. He did a good job today even if he had to kill someone else to do it.

“Hey Hangman…”

“Rooster. You allowed out of medical?”

Rooster shrugs which Jake is going to take as a very firm no. He raises an eyebrow.

“Mav’s snoring. Keeping me awake.”

Jake huffs in amusement, wonders if he should get up. He can’t sit up, there’s not enough room. His three bunkmates are all fast asleep, everyone more than capable of sleeping through everything once you’ve had your first deployment on a carrier.

“Did you want something?” Jake asks, because he will get up if he has to, but he doesn’t want to. Wants to at least pretend he’s been able to sleep tomorrow morning when everyone wakes up.

“How do you… uh… You’ve killed someone before. And again today.”

Jake clenches his jaw, wonders if Bradshaw is going to make fun of him for it, or tell him he did a good job or some other type of bullshit.

“How do you deal with it? The guilt?”

Fuck. That’s a hundred times worse than anything he could have predicted.

“Jesus Rooster, you think I’ve got answers? There’s a reason I’m not asleep either…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“You’re admitting to not knowing something? Is that a first? Do I need to mark it down as a red-letter day or something?”

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. But… I don’t like that I’ve had to kill someone. Two someone’s. But I’d make the same choice over and over. Every time. Deciding between saving you and Maverick and killing someone I don’t know? Easy choice. Not one I wish I had to make, but I made it, and I will live with it. And I’ll continue to make that choice, and also understand that some days I am that someone that my enemy doesn’t know…”

“The risks of the job.”

“Yeah. Kill or be killed. Pretty high stakes.”

“Yeah. God.”

“Fuck, come on. Get in here. It’ll be tight but I don’t think either of us wants to be alone right now. Plus I don’t snore and you’re definitely meant to be sleeping.”

“We can’t both fit in a rack.”

“We can if we’re determined and don’t need to move. Come on.”

It’s proof that Rooster is tired and likely concussed that he simply agrees, folds himself down until he’s pressing his back against Jake’s front and he lets himself rest an arm over him, shifting his head so they can share the pillow.

“Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Not like you can get out without waking me up anyway.”

“Shh… sleep.”

He hadn’t thought that being squished tight into his bunk, holding Rooster tight to him, would have aided his sleep at all but he wakes later to a dead arm, Rooster still firmly under his arm and held tight like he’s afraid to let him go. Blinking at him in disbelief is Javy who is silently mouthing what he suspects is what the fuck? at him. He shrugs and reaches for the curtain and pulls it closed. He could do with a bit more sleep.

#Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick #Rooster x Hangman

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thebestofoneshots · 2 months

Text

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.2 K Warnings: None Prompt: It's time to get back at Severus for being a constant ass... This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 37: Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (A Man After Midnight)

You had retired to one of the tables alongside Remus to explain your plan. It was simple enough to execute, and it wouldn’t cause any harm. Well, as long as Ackley’s prank treats didn’t cause any harm, since your entire plan depended on those.

“You think it’ll work?” you asked him.

He bit his lip, a small frown adorning his handsome features as he thought about it, about 5 seconds later he nodded, a small smile spreading on his lips. “You’re a brilliant little witch, aren’t you?”

You beamed at his praise, standing just a bit straighter as he said it, and leaned in just a little closer to him, cheeks brushing against each other as you went over the plan by whispering into each other’s ear.

“Mister Lupin, Miss (Y/LN), pleasure to see you here,” a voice said from behind. You turned to your teacher with a smile.

“Professor Slughorn, we must thank you for the invitation.”

He nodded, “Oh no, the gratitude is mine, such a lovely presence adorning the party,” he said. “I see you’ve made an interesting choice,” he said, now turning straight to you, “How did Mister Black take it?”

Remus looked at you from the side, seeming weary at Slughorn’s question, you simply smiled at the teacher, “Sirius is more than okay with it,” you reassured. “In fact, he did mention he wasn’t a big fan of Christmas parties.”

Slughorn raised his eyebrows and nodded, you tightened your smile, then another wizard approached Slughorn. “Ah, Roan,” he said with a smile as he pulled the young man and placed a hand on his back, having him face the two of you, “These are some of my best students,” he said pointing at both you and Remus. “Exceptional Wizards,” he praised, “Remus is clever and strong, and this young lady here is brilliant at charms and hexes, I would know, she accidentally hexed one of my kids,” he said, hailing the way you had confringoed Evan. “Very advanced spells I tell you, they would both be brilliant additions to your department,” he said.

The man smiled, he was slightly shorter than Remus, but held his head high with a smile and a rather prideful look, not in a bad way though, Roan, reminded you a lot of Nightshade actually, that same regal look, thought his hair was a lighter brown and his skin was a lot more tan in comparison to her. He extended his hand to Remus. “Roan Elnore,” he said, “pleasure to meet you both.” Once he shook Remus’ hand, he extended it towards you. His hand was rough and strong, on the smaller side compared to your boys’ thought.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Elnore,” you responded.

“Please, call me Roan,” he said with a laugh, “Mr. Elnore is my father.”

“Roan,” you said with a smile, you didn’t miss the way Remus stepped closer to you after that, as if protectively, or perhaps, possessively. Roan didn’t miss it either and he took a short step back, that’s when you noticed a sharp claw mark that shone from behind his ear to almost the front of his neck, it was outside of Remus’ field of vision, and you weren’t sure if Roan had purposely moved his head in such a way that’d you’d have to notice or if you had just perceived it that way.

But the scar almost made you lean closer, it was dreadfully similar to the ones that covered Remus’ body, and to the three –now healing– marks across your arm. You almost stepped closer to try and perceive it better but held back when you realised, again, that Remus’ shoulder was almost in front of yours, impeding you from walking any closer.

“Your department?” Remus asked.

Slughorn smiled as if he had been waiting for one of you to ask. “Ah yes, Roan here, works for the ministry, why don’t you tell them all about it while I go greet some more guests?” Slughorn said as he patted Roan on the back and moved to talk to some other students.

Roan laughed awkwardly, “Some things never change, do they?” he said with an awkward smile, “I work for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,” he said with a smile, Remus tensed and it was you who stepped closer to him this time around.

“Oh, really?” you said, mustering a charming smile as you attempted to divert the attention from Remus, “And what do you do?”

“I oversee the Registry of Dangerous Creatures,” he said simply. “We basically have to make sure all creatures like goblins, giants, trolls, dragons, werewolves, etc. are identified and–”

You could feel Remus tense even further and you casually dragged your hand to his, taping your finger over his until he wrapped it around yours, you tightened it reassuringly. “Punished?” Remus offered.

“Salazar No!” Roan answered as he shook his head, “I know some people who despise dangerous magical creatures, yes, but while they are dangerous because it’s in their nature, it doesn’t mean they’re not either provoked or without the capacity to control themselves,” he explained. “Werewolves, for example, can be extremely dangerous, but only a few times a year.”

You smiled at that, “Yeah, I agree,” you responded. “Most ‘dangerous’ magical creatures are only such a thing because we have invaded their natural habitat and provoked them.”

“Exactly!” Roan said as he leaned onto you, clearly happy that you understood exactly what he meant. “It’s what I’ve been trying to convince the ministry of,” he explained, “It’s a tough battle, but I don’t plan on giving up.”

“We’d both be pleased to help,” you said with a smile, now paying a closer look to his scar, it most definitely looked werewolf-infringed.

“Roan, darling!” you heard a familiar voice approach and were slightly taken aback when you witnessed the way Seraphina wrapped her arms around the young man and pulled him into a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said with a smile, looking at her with adoration. You turned to Remus and he gave you an equally confused look.

Roan pressed a short kiss to her lips and then turned back to you, “Do you also teach this young couple? Slughorn was giving me all sorts of praises for the two of them.”

Remus pulled his hand away from you in an instant, feeling nervous after giving the man such an impression.

Seraphina, who had her hands on Roan’s arm turned to you, a kind of shine in her eyes you saw only when you cast the right spell on a duel, or when you got the answer to a question correct, “They’re not a couple darling,” she explained simply. “And yes, I do teach them, in fact, I’ve talked to you about her,” she said pointing at you, “She’s my star duelist.”

“It is her?” he asked with raised eyebrows and Seraphina smiled and nodded in return, you swallowed at that, “You’re Silas’ daughter?” he asked almost in disbelief.

You nodded in return. “And that’s Remus Lupin,” she said, emphasising his last name.

“Blimey, you’re the son of my boss,” he said with a gasp. Remus smiled awkwardly, he had never been the son of anyone’s boss before, and while he knew his father worked at the Ministry, he didn’t know of him having many people working directly for him at the department, but he had been working there for almost as many years his own age, so in a way, it made sense. Regardless, Remus felt like Roan was placing him on the same level as you, as if your father’s exceptional political career was equal to his own father’s. He had never felt like that before. Always failing to understand the weight on James’ or Sirius’ shoulders after coming from pureblood families.

“You’ve met Lyall?” you said curiously, “I’ve only ever heard from him. Hopefully, I’ll get to meet him soon.”

“He’ll be delighted by such a bright young witch, surely,” Roan replied.

“Certainly,” agreed Seraphina.

“You are married?” you asked, looking at the two of them with a charming smile, following along the conversation and changing the focus when you noticed Remus didn’t seem too comfortable with them speaking about his father or the registry. Remus, on the other hand, was absolutely impressed with how well you were handling the conversation. It’s not that he struggled to maintain conversations, but you managed to keep the talk flowing with a rather effortless approach.

And it wasn’t because you were particularly outgoing, but you had been to several political events with your parents, so you had kept a lot of conversations with older people before, you were awfully used to the politics, and you had developed a way to use your charm to veer conversations in whichever way you needed them to go, in this case, away from Remus and his father’s work.

Seraphina smiled at your boldness, “Not yet darling, we decided to wait a little bit more until things were less complicated and we could make a big party with no looming danger,” she said. “Roan here has a lot of family members, and they sure would be offended if we made a party without inviting them.”

“She says that, but it’s her family that would be really offended,” the man reproached. “And trust me, you do not want to cross the Nightshades,” he leaned a little closer. “They can be terrifying sometimes.”

You smiled at that, giving a small look at Nightshade before nodding in agreement, yes, she was stunning, but that didn’t take away her presence, she was delightful in a rather icy way, like an ice queen that could freeze you if you did something that could upset her, and yet, you still liked her very much.

Nightshade jokingly shoved Roan by the shoulder, it was rather interesting to see this side of her, a lot more playful and youthful in comparison to the much more stoic ballerina vibe she gave off as a teacher, it made you wonder how she might have been when she was just a student.

You had taken the moment Roan leaned closer to pay a little more attention to his scar, and then when he was shoved by Nightshade, you noticed there was another one peeking from his long-sleeved shirt, barely a the tail of a scar, but you had seen similar ones, on Remus’ hands.

“Are you planning anything tomorrow?” You asked the two of them. “I mean, I know it’s the last day of class and you must be rather busy with grading and such, but we were thinking of preparing a small dinner,” you said pointing at both you and Remus, “With the rest of our friends, of course. And if you’re still around, Roan, you’re more than welcome to come.”

Remus, whose hand had at some point travelled to your arm by crossing his behind you, squeezed as if trying to remind you what day tomorrow would be, but you being so calm with stating you would have a dinner had thrown him off guard too, since obviously you had planned no such thing. You didn’t pay much mind to it, almost completely focused on Nightshade who gave you a sharp look, almost telling you she had understood exactly what you were doing while narrowing her eyes. You gave her a soft look in return, even throwing in a bit of a tight-lipped smile.

Roan’s breath caught in his throat for only a second before he turned to you, “Oh, thank you for the invitation, but I must get back to London with Seraphina early in the morning, we still have some business in the ministry.”

“Of course, do not worry, I’m sure we’ll get more than enough time to meet again on a different day,” you said. “Anyway, Rem and I were just about to walk over to the food table when Slughorn came over,” you explained, “would you like us to bring you something?”

“No darling, we just ate,” Nightshade said as she sent a courteous nod to both you and Remus and started moving towards a different place.

“It was nice to meet you guys, if you’re ever over at the ministry, I’d love to see you,” he said as he followed his girlfriend along.

Both you and Remus walked over to the sweets table and then towards one of the corners of the room, “What was that about the party?”

You turned to him, almost peering through your lashes before raising your head, a small smile on your lips, Remus thought he’d never seen such an angelic look on someone with a smirk before. “You didn’t see Roan’s scars, did you?” Remus tilted his head. “He had one on his neck,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his and tracing your finger over the same area but on his skin. Remus almost shivered at your touch, your hand was cold from the drink you had grabbed at the table, and you assumed that had been the reason for the way his breath hitched on his throat and pulled your hand back.

You then brought your hand up and traced your finger over it too, going first over the long sleeve of your dress near your upper arm and then just for a second touching your own skin. “He had another one there.”

“Well, he works with magical creatures, dad also has a few of those,” Remus said, missing your point, and perhaps a little annoyed at the fact that you had been paying such close attention to Roan.

“Yeah, but they didn’t look like just any scar, think of Alastor Moody, I’m sure you’ve seen at least a few pictures of him on the paper, his scars are different.”

“How come?”

You let your hand hover over your arm before deciding it would be a bad idea to remind Remus of the now-scarring tissue on your shoulder and decided to grab his hand instead. “They looked like this,” you said as you let your finger brush lightly over one of his scars. “The same depth, tones, tightness.”

“Are you implying that–”

“I thought I was imagining things, but I’ve gotten pretty used to the way they look, Remus, I’ve seen them up close,” you took a deep breath, as you moved your shoulder just slightly, almost involuntarily but Remus noticed. “They were the same.”

“So– whatever did it must have been–”

“Like you,” you concluded. “Roan said they were only dangerous at certain points of the year. He even said he was trying to persuade the ministry. That's a pretty solid stance on werewolves compared to the rest of the people.”

“He didn’t have as many of them,” Remus said, remembering some of the scars on his own face and the rest of his body, some you had seen, some you hadn’t. Even some already healing you had unwittingly caused the previous moon. It was silly really, how the two of you had scarred each other when you were the last people who would willingly hurt the other.

You nodded, “Threw me off guard too,” you admitted. “But he’s older, Remus, and some time ago Nightshade admitted she knew what you were when she got hired, that she was close to Dumbledore even before she was a teacher here, and I just thought… What if he hired her because she already knew how to deal with, well you know.”

“But the scars, it still doesn’t–”

“That’s why I invited them to dinner.”

“He said he had to work,” Remus said with a shrug. “He could have been telling the truth, although…”

“You smelled his nervousness, didn’t you? I wasn’t paying attention to their answers, but rather, to their reactions. Nightshade threw me a look I know well, a warning. I think she knows I was close to figuring it out… and then there was the way Roan was holding his breath, I mean I cannot smell nervousness, not when I’m not Vixen, but I can see it. And you? Tonight especially.”

Remus was frowning, looking at the floor and yet nowhere in particular as he bit his lip. He’s thinking, you realised. It was a look you had seen him make more than once when he was analysing situations, then he turned to you, his brown eyes could easily let you see how worried he was, “He smelled funny.”

“You think he’d notice the same about you?”

Remus sighed heavily, “I don’t know,” he admitted. “There’s a lot of people, I was paying close attention because-” he trailed off as if he didn’t know what exactly to say after that.

You looked at him, now analysing the situation at hand. The way he had stepped over you protectively, and how he had been looking at Roan rather intently. Roan was handsome. Not your type of handsome but attractive nonetheless. What if Remus was attracted to him…? You almost felt your cheeks warm at the thought crossed over your head. You couldn’t have drawn a more faulty conclusion. For someone who had identified a werewolf after one simple talk, you had, so far, been terrible at realising your friend’s feelings for you.

“You were curious,” you offered, giving Remus an easy way out, and he nodded. It was better for you to think that, than knowing that, in reality, he had actually been smelling the way you reacted to Roan. But most of all, he was trying to make sure that you still smelled like him. He almost couldn’t live without being able to feel his scent all over you and Sirius anymore. He sometimes wondered if that was the wolf, or if he was just possessive like that. More often than not it was hard for him to draw the line where Moony ended and Remus started.

“Yeah,” he added.

“He seems like a convenient friend to have,” you said.

“What if he’s evil though? What if he’s with the other werewolves, like Forrester or… Greyback?” You knew what a delicate subject Greyback was to Remus, he had told you the story of how he’d ended up being a werewolf. He had told you about Lyall and his prejudice and how Greyback had escaped and then taken revenge on him by using his child.

You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “He wouldn’t be with Nightshade,” you said, “She’s too sharp and perceptive. You know she was offered to work with Moody but rejected being an auror in favour of coming here?”

“Really?”

You nodded, “Dumbledore asked her to do it, and she was thrilled to teach DADA,” you told him. “If Roan was dodgy, she would have already sent him to Azkaban.”

“Maybe she’s blinded by love.”

You smiled at that, “You really think someone could be blind enough not to see a deatheater?”

Remus thought about it, if either you or Sirius were deatheaters, he for sure wouldn’t have noticed. “Would you ever suspect Sirius to be one?”

“Of course not,” you said honestly.

“You’re in love,” he said with a shrug.

“You wouldn’t suspect him either, and it’s not because you’re in love with him.” If only you knew. “It’s because you know him, because he’s your friend.”

“Maybe we’re blinded by the love we have for our friends too.” You looked at him with a smile and pushed with your shoulder just a little. “What?”

“I think we’re passed Pissy Moony and we have Sad Moony instead.”

He gasped, a smile playing on his lips regardless, “You think I’m saying that because of the moon?” You shrugged, mirroring his simile and raising one of your eyebrows as you did. “How would you feel if I said the same when you’re on your period?”

You snickered at that. “Well I do get a little pissy sometimes,” you said with a shrug.

“You’ll admit you get pissy on your period just to maintain your argument?”

You pretended to think about it for a second and then nodded. “You know, it’s kind of nice.”

“Getting pissy on your period?” he teased.

You shoved him in response, “No silly, having a friend who understands,” you said. “A male friend that understands,” you clarified. He raised an eyebrow at that and you shrugged. “You’ve always been more understanding, it’s probably why Lily had a crush on you in 3rd year.”

“She what?” Remus gaped.

“You’re telling me she never told you? She said she did!”

Remus thought back, and then remembered. Lily had said he liked him, in potions at some point when they were partners, but she had said it in such a casual way, Remus didn’t actually realise what she meant, he had been rather worried about other things he was discovering about himself back then, especially the kind of things that he couldn’t exactly talk about with other people. “I thought that was… I thought she meant it platonically.”

You responded to that with a simple incredulous look.

“I said thanks!” he said afterwards, you busted out into a laugh, looking at him as you bit your lip, he was slightly red, and looked adorable all flustered. You were looking at him fondly when you felt someone pushing you as they walked, forcing you to crash against his chest. You were a little stunned by such an unexpected fast movement and had grabbed onto his arms to keep yourself from falling, Remus had done the same to you, holding you just tight enough for you not to fall.

You stayed in Remus’ familiar embrace for just a couple of seconds before turning your head to look at the person who had pushed you, half expecting them to say they were sorry when you noticed who it had been. Fucking prick, you thought as you saw Severus walk towards Barty with his head held haughtily high.

You looked up at Remus, a determined look on your face he instantly identified as your need for payback. Severus had been a total prick all night and no matter how upset Lily had been with you, you were going to retaliate, and not with poisonous words this time around. You leaned back onto Remus, “You already know the plan.”

Remus only nodded with a smile, he wondered if that was what you did on your dates with Sirius too, be all over each other and plan sneaky pranks. Of course, he did it unconsciously, and almost felt bad for even thinking of it, but if that was how it was, he thought it would be splendid.

You walked over to Johnny Ackley as he kept an eye on the Slytherins. Once you reached the boy, you gave him your charming smile, to which he responded with a quirked eyebrow, “May I help you?”

“Indeed you may,” you responded, grin growing ever wider. “I’ve heard you’re an entrepreneur, great businessman too.”

He smiled at your use of words to describe him, “You’ve come for a bargain?”

“Indeed,” you replied with a smile. “Now I don’t want any Rumpelstiltskin tricks to be pulled under your sleeves. Tell me your exact price after I’ve made my request. How many of those trick treats do you have left in your tray.”

“I have only one safe one left,” he replied honestly. “But I’d give it to you for free.”

You let out a breathy laugh at his smile, he wasn’t half bad at this game, from what you’d heard you’d expected him to be a little less capable as a businessman, but he clearly knew that was not the reason you had approached. “Good, because I need that one out of the tray before we make a deal.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, “You cannot kill anyone with these,” he joked.

You scoffed playfully in response, “Why exactly would you think I– Actually, never mind,” you said, and then proceeded, “you said one of those gives bad breath?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, someone’s already taken that one,” he said with an apologetic look, “looking to get away from your date?”

“What?! Not at all! Remus is great!” You weren’t sure why the thought of someone implying you’d want to get away from Remus had upset you so much, but you choked it up to the fact that he was your best friend and that you had to defend his honour because of it. “I’m looking to get back at someone who has been pushing people around since they got here.”

“Ah, of course. Unfortunately, Severus didn’t want to have any of these,” he said as he pushed the tray up just a little, “I’ve offered a few times already.”

You huffed a laugh. “Of course, but you haven’t tempted, not in a way that matters to him,” you said with a smirk, the kind of expression someone who had a plan would make, “what other things do they do?”

Now it was his turn to smirk, and he pointed at one of the treats, “Makes your headache,” he turned his finger to a different one, “gives you the hiccups,” he hovered to another one, “makes you horny–”

“Wait, really?” you asked.

“Want to give it a try?” he teased.

You almost punched him. “That seemed like a terrible trick to play on someone. Could have some nasty uses. You sure you wouldn’t get expelled if they find you out?”

“Not that horny, jeez,” he said. “Belby helped me develop some of these, they are safe and recreational.” He then hovered his pointed finger back on the tray. “Gives you a terrible stomach ache, you can only get rid of it by dancing or kissing someone. And this one–” he said pointing at one with what looked like grey scales on top, “twists all your words so you say the exact opposite of what you mean.”

You smiled at that, instantly knowing which one would be useful for Severus and his nasty little mouth, “Green is the only one that’s good, right?” Ackley nodded in response. “And the price?”

“A piece of your hair.”

You frowned at that. You knew what people could do with hair, you did not want anyone going around with your face. “Hell no!”

“Do you even know how precious it could be? I know people who would pay so much for it!” he tried to reason. “We could even split the profits.”

“For my hair?”

“Hey! A lot of people have a crush on the new quidditch player,” he stated. “I’m sure they’d have a kick with polyjuice and someone willing to help.”

“Ugh, gross!” You said, honestly horrified at that.

“And people also like Sirius,” he said thoughtfully, “would you consider it cheating if someone had polyjuiced themselves onto you?”

You looked positively scandalized by the idea, “Well of fucking course it would be!”

Ackley shook his head as he tsked, “It’s a million-dollar idea, I’m telling you! You lack vision!”

“You wouldn’t sell your hair if you knew they were gonna use it to satisfy some weird as fuck kink!” He gave you the kind of look that clearly said he would and you scoffed.

“Okay, I assume Remus, Sirius and James’ hair is also off the question? What about Lily’s? Or Tom’s?”

“Ackley, I’m not giving you the hair of any of my friends.”

“Your loss,” he said with a shrug. In truth, Ackley did not expect you to agree to either of those requests, but he also knew he wouldn’t lose anything by trying, especially not when you had come to him for help, “If it’s not hair then… would you be willing to brew a potion for me?”

“What potion?”

“I overheard you talking with McGonagall after the game, I reckon she’ll give you the recipe for a contraceptive potion. Think you’ll be able to brew it?”

Fucking hell, now it wasn’t only McGonagall who thought you and Sirius were nothing but horny teenagers. “Yeah, of course, I can brew a batch.”

“Fantastic, they sell incredibly well,” he said with a smile. “But I lost my dealer last year.”

“It will only be one batch though!” you added, a little more vocalised this time around, trying to make it clear.

“Of course, of course. That’s fine though, the scarcity will make it more expensive. I’m terrible at brewing, but I’ll get you all the ingredients you need once you send me an owl with the list, does that sound fair?”

You smiled, “Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal, Johnny.”

He gave you a short wink and nodded at that, “And a good one indeed.” He then looked over your shoulder, at the Slytherin boys. “What’s the plan?”

“Just show up near us and offer some treats in a few minutes, play along if necessary. Remus and I will do the heavy lifting.”

“Easy enough,” he said with a nod and disappeared in the crowd.

You smiled and walked back to Remus, he was a lot closer to the boys and you started a casual conversation with him, telling him about some of the homework you were supposed to do over the break and asking, subtly –according to you– what he’d like to get on Christmas. Now it’s not that Remus realised you were asking him for your own sake either, he was rather enthralled by your talking to pay much attention to your not-so-subtle questions.

“What did you ask Father Christmas to bring over?” you asked him. He quirked an eyebrow giving you an incredulous look, “Aw come on! You cannot tell me you’re too old for presents.”

He shrugged in response. “I’m not sure, back in the house my parents always got me rather practical things, well except for mom, she always got me muggle toys.”

“Really? Were they fun?”

“Some of them, for sure. I once got a small broom horse that my father enchanted so I could use it to fly! It only allowed me to go up a few feet, but it was incredible!”

You gasped at that. “Really?”

He nodded, “And at some point, they even got me a muggle hamster, he was horrified of me though, had to give the poor thing away.”

You gave him a pitiful look. “At least our children like us both equally,” you said, thinking of Pyro and Nummie. You and Remus had already developed a whole system that would keep them fed while you were out on vacation, they had already gotten wide enough to be dangerous when transporting them home. Remus chuckled at that, letting his mind wander just for a second, he could never have children, not with his condition. What if his child ended up like him? The fantasy was nice, though. You looked to the side, Ackley still wasn’t close. “But… what would you like to get now?”

He shrugged, “I’m not sure, to be honest. Maybe a jumper or something. You keep stealing those.”

You gasped at that, swatting him playfully on the shoulder. “For the scent thing.”

“Nah, you’ve been stealing them even before the scent thing,” he said, and it was true, not that he minded it much, he loved it when he got them back and they smelled like you and Sirius. You shook your head in response.

“But what do you actually want, though?” and then you gave him a look. “Don’t think practical, be delusional about it if you need to.”

Delusional? I’d like to have you and Sirius… at the same time, he thought. “Haven’t really thought about it, maybe something comforting? Or a cool band T, like the ones Sirius has…” alternatively one from him. “What about you? What do you want to get for Christmas?”

It was your turn to shrug now, “Not sure either,” you answered sincerely. “I was thinking of getting a muggle gaming console, but I highly doubt it will work with the magical fields here in Hogwarts, so getting it on the summer break might be better.” Remus agreed with a simple humm. “If I do get something muggle it will be like Sirius’ cube.”

“He hates it,” he told you. “He’s been struggling to solve the puzzle since he got it. I think he’ll end up transfigurating it or something.”

You giggled, the image of Sirius struggling with the cube diverting you more than it should. Sirius was always very capable, so thinking that a muggle puzzle would frustrate him, was rather amusing. You could almost picture him throwing the cube to the wall in a very child-like tantrum after trying for very long and not achieving much with it. Perhaps that’s why he was already rather cranky back when you had worn Minho’s sweater. “I feel like Dromeda gave it to him on purpose.”

“Oh, she must definitely did,” Remus agreed with a smile. “We should write her a letter, telling her that her gift was an absolute success.”

“You think she wouldn’t mind? I mean, us writing her even though I don’t actually know her personally?”

“I’m sure she’s heard lots about you, bet she’d be more than thrilled to hear from her new cousin.”

You pushed Remus lightly after that, he knew Andromeda had heard about you already, she had sent him a letter a little after Sirius sent her one mentioning you were now in Hogwarts too. She wanted to know every single thing about you. Of course, Remus, who already considered you wonderful, ended up sending her a rather short and concise story telling her just that, but that if she needed any more information she was to ask Sirius instead because he was not about to meddle in his best friend’s business anymore.

“Treats?” Johnny said as he approached, offering them to some other students but moving rather fast before they even got to dig their hands inside the platter. He passed by you and moved towards the Slytherins.

“Hold up, wait!” you said as he looked your way, the platter on display right in front of the Slytherins. You turned to Remus and called his attention by tapping the back of your hand softly on his chest, “I tried the pink one earlier,” you said. “It was delicious, you should try it,” you said then as you approached Johnny.

Severus gave you a look, at both you and Remus approaching and then turned to the platter, there was one pink one left. So, naturally, and with the intention to piss you off, he took a hold of it and plopped it onto his mouth.

Jonathan Ackley turned to him shocked, but managed to keep it together and hold the snigger threatening to leave his mouth. He had tried to get Severus to eat one of his trick treats so many times and it wasn’t until you and Remus intervened that he managed to do it.

“Oh, you wanted that one?” he asked with a clearly fake concerned expression. “I’m very sorry, I’m sure there are many others you could take instead.”

You looked at him with an annoyed expression, of course, he had just done exactly what you wanted him to do, but the way he had responded, the fact that he really thought he had taken the treat you wanted, it made your bIood boil. If there was anyone that could make the worst side of you flare up, it was Severus Snape. Exactly like it had happened earlier and with equally disastrous results –Lily was probably still angry at you.

“Well, that’s all right, Severus,” you said with the most neutral tone you could have mustered, “I can still take the purple one, I heard Imogen say it was good,” you said simply.

“Which one?” Barty said as he turned. “This one?” he asked as he plopped it into his mouth.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Ackley said, pretending to move the tray to the side, but Evan intervened and grabbed him by the arm. Softly, but firmly.

“What? Do you only give treats to the Gryffindors? I’m sure Slughorn wouldn’t be too happy you’re neglecting his own house,” he said as he grabbed onto one of the leftover treats and popped it into his mouth.

“Reggie, would you like one?” he asked, Regulus, who was a few steps behind, and talking to someone else, turned around, slightly oblivious to the situation at hand and nodded. You gave him a warning look and sneezed when he hovered his hand over some of the treats. He gave you a pointed look and hovered his hand over a different one, you sneezed again.

“Bless you,” Ackley said as he turned to you, eventually Regulus took hold of the one with the green mousse on top.

You breathed out calmly and then turned to him, “Thank you, Johnny.”

While Regulus savoured his treat, you realised Barty blinked a few times and left to the other side of the room. The headache treat he had taken, had been of fast action apparently.

Then James approached, placed an arm over Ackley’s shoulder and leaned over the tray. The Slytherins could not know of the involvement of either you or Remus in the little prank, so it’s not like you could actually stop James from taking one of the treats, but he already had one on his hands.

Fuck it’s that one, you thought as you looked, there was still one on the tray. It’s the stomach ache one, well getting a kiss will not be that hard for James, will it? Besides, it was a lot better than the alternative… You moved quickly, taking hold of the one that was left on the tray and turning to James. “Switch with me?” You asked politely. “I really want to try that one, yeah?”

“I don’t know, Vix,” James teased, Did he have no idea? He probably didn’t.

“James mate,” Remus intervened. “Be a gentleman, would you?” James gave him a look. “Follow the Marauder’s code.”

James narrowed his eyes at Remus but nodded, you quickly switched with him and James left with the treat on his hand.

You gave the small cookie one last look before plopping it in your mouth. Downing it all before Remus even got the idea of eating it instead of you, which you knew he would, but you also knew he’d be in a lot more trouble than you would be if he did take that particular treat.

“Delicious,” you said honestly.

“Of course it would be, you sensible girl,” Severus said.

You gave him an amused look, “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said you, sensible girl! What the heaven?” Severus looked genuinely confused. “BIood loyalist! What in the Godric Gryffindor have you not done to me?”

“Me?” you asked confused, “Whatever could I have done to you, Severus? I was just getting my own treat.”

Evan started to hiccup on the back, he looked uncomfortable more than anything, so he left to search for Barty a little later. Regulus was still standing there, looking like he was just understanding what was happening.

He gave you a complicit smile and turned to Severus with a rather confused stance, “I ate a treat too, and nothing’s happened to me.” He then proceeded to place his hand on Severus’ head, as if to check for temperature. Who would have thought Reggie could be so brazen?

Should have known, he’s Sirius’ little brother, after all.

“Put your hands on me, Regulus,” Severus spat, desperately, although his words didn’t match his tone.

Regulus pulled back with a frown, instantly recoiling after hearing Severus’ words, not because his tone had been imperious –that was always the case– but because of what he had demanded.

“Sev–” he asked cautiously, but he was interrupted by the boy whose name was uttered.

“It was that angel! She did not do this to me. Godric cherished heaves! This is exactly what I’m trying to say!”

You broke into a giggle then, “Well, Sev, I never thought you’d be giving me so many compliments in one go, but thank you very much.”

“You and you’re clever –cherished–”“ he looked genuinely frustrated, “–cherished heavens– your handsome fiend.”

“My handsome fiend?” you asked as if surprised. “I have no such thing,” you added with a devious smile. “You are my only fiend, Severus.”

Ackley had already bolted, but Remus and Regulus were still standing there, Remus looked like he was about to break into a laugh. Severus had turned red, “You stunning lady!”

“Woah, Severus, I have a boyfriend,” you teased further, just to spite him. It was almost funny that he was saying such nice things now, it really put into perspective how nasty he was on a daily basis.

“Sev, perhaps we should take you to the infirmary, you don’t look all right,” Regulus intervened again.

“Yes! I mean YES! Godric bless it! Cherished heavens, this is exhilarating.”

“Regulus is not wrong,” Remus said, in his always conciliating tone, “You should probably go to the infirmary.”

“You WILL go unharmed after this,” Severus said as he turned to you with a threatening finger.

You waved him a polite goodbye as Regulus took him away and got him to sit down at a nearby table while trying to calm him down.

“Didn’t you mention there was only one good treat left?” Remus asked once the two of you managed to catch your breath. You nodded in response, “Who took it? James? Reggie?”

“Could have been the one I ate…” you said defensively.

“Yeah sure, like I didn’t see you sneezing so Reg didn’t take the one that James took and you ended up chowing down in the end.”

“Reggie took the good one,” you admitted. “Saved James by giving one that wouldn’t affect him much.” Remus frowned when he saw James dancing next to Lily, he had been dancing before he went for the treats too, he probably wouldn’t even feel the effects of the potion. “Johnny said that one gave you a stomachache that could only be cured by dancing or kissing someone, I figured James would have obliged either one without giving it a second thought. Especially if he got yet another excuse to kiss Lily.

Remus gave you a long look and wondered what would have happened if you had taken that one. Would she have asked me to dance? To kiss her? Of course not, she has Sirius.

But what if Sirius wasn’t around, what if I was the last resort… would she kiss me then? “And the one you saved him from?”

You took a deep breath at that, thinking of the treat you had taken, red, the colour of lust, you thought, Ackley must have thought things through when he asked Kless for help.

“Nothing to worry about,” you said with a shrug, you weren’t sure how exactly the red treat would affect you, but you knew it would 100% be a lot worse on a man. “Trust me, I’d be worried if I was a boy.”

Remus frowned at that, “What do you mean you would be worried if– What on earth did you eat?!?!”

“Shhhhh,” you said, a little stressed. “It’s okay, Remus. Don’t stress about it, I won’t stress about it, and things will be alright,” you said as you turned to him, you hadn’t quite noticed how broad Remus’ shoulders were until they were right in front of your face. Actually, you might have noticed how broad they were before but you had never found them so attractive, had you?

Fuck, it’s taking effect, you thought as you looked at your friend and bit your lip, fucking hell. At least you could use curse words without them getting all twisted.

“You can’t just ignore feelings until they disappear,” he said, hypocrite, his own inner dialogue shouted back at him.

“Remus,” you whined, dragging out “e” from his name. “Please, please, let’s not talk about the potion I took and do something else instead?”

“Like what?”

Kissing in a broom closet, your brain shouted at you, you shoved the thought to the back of your head, “Dance?” you offered.

“Do the effects also go away with dancing?”

You looked to the side and thought about it. You guessed, in a way, they could. “Yes.”

The rest of the night went in an instant, between dancing and trying to focus on anything other than the fact that Remus looked damn good that day. From the moment he took off his suit coat and kept only his navy shirt, that was just the right amount of tight on him. Or the way the pants were also a little too tight and let you see his toned legs.

Warmth crept up your cheeks each time your gaze lingered a second too long on Remus, the guilt gnawing at you whenever your head started objectifying him, and the potion wasn’t half as bad as it could be, you weren’t needy or anything like that, but fucking hell did it make you insanely aware of how attractive your best friend was. It wasn’t torturous, except for the fact that you kept thinking that: that night, you’d be sleeping with him and Sirius.

That sounds terrible, you thought as you winced. Vixen and Padfoot would be sleeping with Remus because of the moon– yeah, that’s better.

“You all right?” Remus asked concerned as he saw the expressions you weren’t quite managing to hide appear on your face, winces, smiles, frowns, whatever was going on in your head, including a rather large inner monologue. Perhaps the potions were making you overthink stuff?

And boy were you most definitely overthinking stuff, way too much stuff, and all at the same time. If anything, you’d say the potion had made your mind work 10,000 kilometres an hour –you were doing that on your own– rather than making you exceptionally sensitive to teenage hormones –that was the actual potion’s work.

In fact, the potion wasn’t some frivolous “horny” concoction, like Ackley had described. Kless had tried to describe it to Ackley, to narrow down exactly what would be going on –chemically– on the person that took the potion, but Johnny had given up about halfway through and decided to call it a horny potion. That was nothing close to what the potion actually was. If anything, it was meant to reveal truths obscured by your own defences, a lot closer to what love potions did than it was to aphrodisiacs. In Kless’ own words, it was more “akin to a mirror for the soul rather than an instigator of base desires.”

The potion was a carefully elaborated brew that Kless had designed with slightly selfish purposes, he wanted to use it on himself. Now that sounds terrible when you think of it as a horny potion, but it was never that. In fact, Kless’ intention was just to make himself a little more sensible to his very own feelings. You see, what we know of love, is actually a series of rather complex chemical processes that happen in our brain, things involving neurotransmitters: dopamine –involves pleasure, rewards and motivation–, serotonin –which regulates the mood–, oxytocin –also known as the love hormone–, Norepinephrine –yeah, the same one that’s related to adrenaline–, endorphins and a myriad of other chemicals that would take much more dedication to explore, but Kless did it anyway.

Now his investigation had a reason –no he did not want to make a love potion– he wanted to know if he really liked someone in particular, and he knew that, while there were probably easier ways to tell if you liked someone (like those quizzes on Witch Weekly, and doing a bit of introspection) he also knew that a potion that allowed you see your own true feelings for someone could be really useful. So he gathered some interesting ingredients, that according to his research would help: Moonlit Petals (to enhance receptivity), Tears of a Siren (to increase the sensibility to pheromones), Crystalized Honeydew and a few other things that he thought would make an effective potion. He was about ready to present it to Slughron when he discovered his werewolf obsession and forgot about it altogether. That was until Johny had gone to him and revised his notes.

On the top page, he had written “HARNi” (Heightened Awareness Recreational Brew –Ni was a stand-in for things he didn’t have a proper name for yet), but Kless didn’t have the best handwriting and Johny read horny instead. And we already know how the story goes, Kless tried to explain and Johnny decided to keep the other name instead, he thought the results were similar enough to the meaning of the word anyway. So no, you had never taken a horny potion, what the potion was doing was only letting you see some things you had never been quite aware of before –or not as aware as you were in that particular moment, at least–. Not that you knew any of it, the potion had been presented to you as a “horny” potion and you had eaten the treat as if it had been just that. And whatever it was you were feeling for Remus at that moment, you had –as anyone would– set it down to the potion.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Well, did Sev get what he deserved? Honestly, he brought it onto himself... Upon some requests, we have a DISCORD server now and you can all join in and chat about marauders and/or GC with other lovely people. If you wanna discuss a new oneshot or even the new chapters of GC this is your place to go. Lastly, you guys were asking for a new Q&A so I'm working on it at the moment, send all the questions you may want to be added here, or directly on asks. Love, Lils xx

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archieimagines · 1 year

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when they make you laugh | aib

How they react when they make you laugh for the first time since arriving in Borderland.

Chishiya, Ann, Kuina and Niragi.

i really really love writing for aib, and i really really want to marry ann. warnings: this is mostly fluff but jealousy and threats are included (would it even be niragi if this wasn’t the case?) requested by: anon (thank you!) written by: archie support me on ko-fi!

Chishiya

Chishiya would be puzzled. Hearing your laugh ring through the Beach’s hallway from beside him when hardly much had happened-- What suddenly brought that out of you? You, who hadn’t so much as smirked once since arriving in the Borderlands?

He wouldn’t stop walking until you’d finally keeled over, resting against the wall in your laughter, and he’d simply stand there and watch you, tempted to give into the smirk that pulls at the corner of his lips. Ah yes, that laugh is contagious, but it’d only properly catch on when he realises it’s his own words that brought it out of you.

Gasping words out through your bursts of laughter, not paying half a mind to the bikini-clad girls that spared you judgemental glances as you try to communicate what exactly of Chishiya’s words tickled you so-- But it’d barely come out clear enough to make sense.

But it wouldn’t matter. He’d finally give into the tickle inside his own chest, the softest laugh of humour bubbling out as he stands there, hands in his pockets and tender eyes on your giggling form. It’s the first time since arriving that he’s seen you like this, and what a sight to behold.

Ann

Ann isn’t phased by much, but your sudden laughter gracing her ears would startle her. She’d jump, hair swishing out of that perfect positioning when she turns to look at you. She’d think there’s something wrong at first, scan the area to see what might’ve possibly brought you to this, wonder if perhaps Borderland has finally taken its toll on you. She’s heard plenty of stories of psychosis manifesting in laughter from her work life, but this… Doesn’t seem to be the case.

She’d ask what was up, ask if you’re feeling okay, hold your face still to feel your forehead for a temperature. This, however, would only bring out more bubbling laughter as you tuck her hair behind her ear again, back where it belongs.

“You’re so funny, Ann,” you’d say, “And you don’t even realise.”

She’d blink. No, she’s never been considered the funny type.

It’s not until you describe to her that it’s purely because she’s so serious, so endearing, that you couldn’t help yourself. Perhaps things really were catching up to you, and you finally let up on all the pressures from the games. Hell, you were gonna die anyway. Why not share laughter when your love is this morbidly endearing in her antics?

Kuina

Kuina would have missed your laughter. She’d struggle with your newly introverted self, noticing how all the games have worn you down in the weeks of being here, and it’s not until one time that you get a little bit too drunk a little bit too quickly in the Beach’s nightclub that you’d finally be able to spill your sense of humour all over her again.

It would be the silliest of things; Kuina’s reaction to a guy hitting on her or an animated fall on the dancefloor that you’d just so happened to witness, but it would shock your body with waves and waves of giggles.

Kuina’s reaction would be instant. Her face would light up, teeth showing and eyes shining as she drank in the sight of you losing control of your body, weak at the knees and relying on Kuina’s arm around your middle to keep you up. Soon, the pair of you would be creasing with tears in your eyes, and she’s definitely the type that lightly hits whoever happens to be in her reach as she cackles. Afterwards, the air around you would be drastically lighter. She’d be thrilled to have you back.

Niragi

Niragi would be suspicious of your laughter. He’d stare at you with a brow and corner of his lips raised, practically with a question mark over his head as he eyes you. He’d demand to know what’s so funny, what’s suddenly happened to you-- but on hearing that he’d just said something in such a way that struck you funny, he’d guffaw in dismissal. Though, hidden inside, his chest would swell with pride and a curl would remain on his lips for a long while after, throwing out certain remarks to try and catch you in a giggle fit once more. Every time it works, a strange glow of acceptance would find a home in his chest.

If, god forbid, anyone else had been the first to make you laugh, he’d want their head on a plate. And you know he’d have it, too, unless it were Chishiya. Perhaps Chishiya’s eyeroll to something Niragi had said would set you off, or even worse, something he’d said-- Niragi would lose his shit. He’d yell at you once the moment had passed, having let it brew for moments before. How dare you humiliate him? Unite with Chishiya against him? Of course, that wouldn’t be even a sliver of truth, and you’d have to talk him down from hunting Chishiya in the Beach’s halls.

You’d manage a soft laugh for him, holding his face to keep his attention and stop his spiralling. “Niragi,” you’d shine a smile, knowing exactly how to calm him. “He’s pitiful, and I’m yours.”

#chishiya x reader #niragi x reader #ann x reader #kuina x reader #chishiya imagine #niragi imagine #ann imagine #kuina imagine #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland headcanon #alice in borderland preference #niragi suguru x reader #ann rizuna x reader #kuina hikari x reader #rizuna ann x reader #aib imagine #aib headcanon #aib preference #written by archie

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manicpixiedreamcurl · 1 year

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No Happy Endings (Unless Fairy Tales Come True).⁺˚*･☾

Pairing | Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings | 18+ only, minors DNI. Porn with smatterings of a plot. Cheating (reader cheats with Eddie as do others), oral (female receiving), protected P in V sex, kinda sad Eddie but only for a bit, brief mention of uncomfortable sexual situations, readers first orgasm, little bit of Eddie with somebody else. Some generalisations about gender and sex for plot reasons.

Word Count | ~9,300

Request | Once upon a time I made an offhand comment in the tags of an ask saying it’s possible Eddie’s fucking lots of cheerleaders behind their boyfriend’s backs. Then an anon threw it right back at me and it’s haunted my thoughts ever since.

A/N | The initial comment was offhand. Reader is not a cheerleader, she’s just pals with cheerleaders. Also cheating is bad etc etc. I also don’t really think Eddie would do this, but I’m taking my Eddie just wants to be loved thing to its logical endpoint; Eddie is become slut, destroyer of pussy.

.⋆｡⋆✮˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Can we-,” she groans softly, biting her shiny lip as she looks at him over her shoulder. “Can we, uh uh, turn the music off?”

Eddie’s gaze shifts from watching himself disappear inside her to the flushed cheeks of her face, her long fluttering eyelashes.

“No, we can't."

"But-" Eddie grasps her cheerleader ponytail, silky in his fist, and pushes her face forward into the mattress, whatever she was going to say now muffled by his sheets.

She doesn't seem to mind. That little squeak she makes when she's close starts picking up when Eddie grinds a little rougher into her, liking what was supposed to be a silent punishment for her request

Eddie has to hold back a scoff, has to stop himself from leaning over to turn the dial on his stereo as far right as it’ll go, instead.

He likes her, as much as he can like the sexually frustrated popular girls he brings back here. She just ignores him in the halls, instead of overacting disdain for him in front of her jock boyfriend’s face.

That, and her pussy clasps his dick like it’s in love.

But that’s the new Iron Maiden album she’s talking about, and he’ll be damned if he turns it off for a girl who’ll kiss her boyfriend tomorrow morning with the mouth that moaned for him tonight.

In the next thirty seconds she cums around him with a shudder, back arching, presenting her ass to him like she wants it spanked. But he's not allowed to do that, lest her boyfriend bend her over tomorrow and find a lasting mark in the shape of Eddie's hand, darker where his rings are.

That's the image that makes him cum, the real reason he does this. Some time this week or next, the basketball player that thinks this girl loves him will call Eddie or one of his friends a freak, maybe shove him in the hall or write dumb shit on his locker. And it won't hurt like it used to. What pain there is will be buried deep under the thought that now gets Eddie through the monotonous nightmare that is high school, that lets him grin in the face of almost every mouth breathing neanderthal that thinks Eddie's the dirt under their white sneakers.

I fucked your girlfriend stupid.

Eddie rolls off her and settles back into his pillows with a long sigh, tugs the condom off himself carelessly. He searches his bedside table half blind, flicks the lighter when he finds it, smoke curling up from the new cigarette between his lips. All the while, he listens to the sounds of a woman dressing. Rustling fabric and whirring zips, the drag of a hairbrush through touch-messy locks.

Eddie doesn't watch. It's not for him.

He doesn't get the intimacy of watching a pleasured woman put herself back together. No coquettish looks over naked shoulders or flirty wiggling hips. Neither does he get the kisses, or the girlish smiles and shy waves in hallways. He doesn't carry anyone's books, or cuddle up with take out and a movie. Eddie doesn't get gentle hands in his hair or a lap under his head.

He doesn’t even get his name, cried out in pleasure, from these girls who wish he was someone else.

But he does get their moans, real and desperate. And that's enough. What more could he expect?

"Hey, so, I thought I could maybe come by next week, around the same time?"

Eddie glances over. She's pristine now, like he’d never touched her. Not for the first time, he spies the little cross around her neck and doesn’t bother holding back the scoff.

"Sure," he nods, used to this routine from her and all the others. She'll get cold feet around the three day mark, tell him she has to stop doing this. Then she'll show up anyway, looking sad and guilty until he fucks it all away. Eddie takes a long drag and watches her stand there awkwardly, wanting to leave but not wanting to be rude.

Then she remembers who he is. "Okay, bye then."

She's out of his room in a second, heading to his front door at pace. If Eddie feels a prickle of hurt in his chest, he knows just how to beat it away.

"Tell Rory I said hi!"

.⋆｡⋆✮˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Eddie's face hasn't lost the pleased smirk since you approached him after school.

It appeared the second after you asked, in a way that you’d clearly practised, if you could buy from him. Standing there by his van, surrounded on all sides by your classmates finding their own way home, he’d fixed you with a look. Dark eyes you'd never properly taken in scanned you shamelessly. With his tongue pressed to his top lip, Eddie crossed to the passenger door and opened it with a swing and mock gentlemanly gesture. "Alright, hop in. We'll get you what you need."

Now, sitting to his right with your knees pressed together nervously, you can't help but keep looking over at him for seconds at a time. You’d thought that by this point you’d have convinced yourself not to go through with it. That sitting next to him this long would get it through your head that this is Eddie Munson, and even considering this is crazy.

He’s not your boyfriend. That should be the first thing you think, but instead you’re caught up in the knowledge that last week you would not have looked at him twice, in a relationship or out of it. They would never have considered going home with Eddie, and neither would any of your friends. Or so you thought, before a group of them, cheerleaders all, had admitted what they’d done with him. In his trailer, in the woods behind school, in this van.

“It’s not the fifties anymore!” Stacey had said, smile all pity for your clear confusion. “We all love our boyfriends.” This had prompted a chorus of agreement from the five other girls who’d admitted to meeting with Eddie. “But it’s not like we’re going to be with them forever. Why not get some experience with somebody…good? Even if he is a complete loser in literally every single other way.”

You’re trying to wrap your head around it as you look at him. You hadn’t thought of him as a loser, exactly, but certainly unpopular. And that wasn’t you being unfair. It’s like he rebels against it, being liked. The way he jumps at people in the cafeteria and makes himself the fool in class. He wears t-shirts with monsters and screaming faces on them. He carries around a pocket knife. You’ve seen his initials carved into enough desks to be sure of it.

But then, Bea had told you, all earnesty. “It’s kind of different with him. He won’t…pressure you, if you change your mind.”

You’d watched five girls nod in agreement with varying degrees of willingness to admit it.

It had shocked you to your core at the time. But now that same core is warm at the suggestion. In truth, Eddie Munson is better looking than you'd ever let yourself think. Those wide eyes you'd got a good look at earlier are framed by long dark eyelashes. His lips are plush and pink, framed sweetly by boyish dimples. His hair looks clean and soft, his hands on the steering wheel look strong.

When you look up from those hands, you find that the smirk has been replaced by a grin. He's caught you staring, and you are left with a hot face and a mind that searches for a way to change the unvoiced subject.

"Who is this?" You ask, gesturing to the radio, the melodic wailing and electric guitar unfamiliar to you.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Black Sabbath? Ozzy Osbourne?"

You nod, realising you have no way of building on that information even as you open your mouth to reply. It closes again, and Eddie’s face sinks into irritation.

"I have a pretty good radar for silent judgement, you know."

"I wasn't." You shake your head in earnest at his disbelieving look. "Honest. I don't really know enough about it to judge."

Eddie hums, then smiles sardonically. "Certainly hasn’t stopped anyone before."

You chew your lip, wondering how you're going to turn this around. You don't even know entirely what you're supposed to do. Seduce him? That doesn't seem likely to work at this point. Ask him directly to what, fuck you? Treat you like you don't have a boyfriend waiting for your call?

As it happens, you don't really need to do anything. Eddie pulls up outside his trailer and looks at you with a tilted head. "So, how do you want it?" When you blink, he gestures between you. "This. You’re welcome in the castle, but we can fuck in the backseat if you prefer."

You can't imagine how you look to Eddie after that. Something fishlike, with widened eyes and an open mouth. Embarrassment floods through your veins, that despite your admittedly weak efforts to seem casual and aloof, you may as well have written your intentions across your chest and flashed him.

"Have I really been that transparent?”

Eddie narrows one eye, shrugs in a yeah, kind of, gesture that has you covering your face with your hands.

“You must think I’m a terrible person,” you mumble into your palms.

“Mm? Oh, cause of the boyfriend thing?” He breathes a laugh through his nose. “Nah, I don’t care about that.” When you don’t respond, Eddie sighs. “Who’s your boyfriend again?”

You glance through your fingers at him, find those wide eyes directed entirely at you. “Kenneth Hunt.”

Eddie smirks and tilts his head forward to hide his face for a second. When he looks back up at your worried expression, he shakes his head as if getting rid of a thought then stares at you straight. “Couldn’t care less about the guy. Far as I’m concerned, you’re doing the right thing here.”

You drop your hands to your knees, rubbing over the skin with your sweaty palms. “You’re just saying that cause you wanna get laid.”

Eddie’s pink lips curve into a smirk again, eyes bright with mischief and anticipation.“I think you know exactly how easy it is for me to get laid without you, sweetheart.” He opens his door, barely paying you any mind when he continues. “You’re already here, but finding somebody else would be inconvenient, at worst.”

Eddie walks to his door with confidence, a trademark bounce in his step. Your eyes shut tight, allowing yourself a second to breathe without him looking at you. Maybe you thought you’d have more time, a little longer to decide if you really wanted to do this. You had the $20 bill in your purse ready in case you chickened out and actually ended up buying weed you’d have dumped in a random trash can on the way home.

Even now, you are wondering if you are the sort of person who can go through with this. At the start of your relationship, the very thought of being with anyone else would have disgusted you.

It is not a surprise when you realise that it just doesn’t anymore.

When Eddie turns after getting the door open, he finds you walking up after him. His lips purse in a smile and he ducks his head, gesturing for you to enter first.

You don’t know what you were expecting a drug dealer’s home to look like. Certainly, this homely, cosy room wasn’t it. The whole place is obviously masculine; in need of dusting and lacking the subtle decoration of women. But it looks like the home of a middle aged man, not that of the rebellious boy whose hands are already touching eagerly at your waist.

There’s even a pair of grey slippers by the door.

A shiver runs up your back when Eddie’s mouth finds your shoulder, the sting of it warm even through your clothes. You make space for him to drift up to uncovered skin, wanting to let go when you feel soft lips and warm breath on the sensitive place where your shoulder meets your neck. Instead, you allow curiosity to come out.

"You, um, really like mugs, huh?"

"Hmm?" Eddie says, pausing his seduction to glance where you are looking. "Oh. Right. No, my uncle used to collect 'em? Same with the hats."

"How come?"

His fingers twitch at your waist. "He, uh, used to drive trucks for a living?" Eddie shrugs, a hand coming up to tuck hair behind his ear in a gesture you might read as bashful if he were anyone else. "Picked 'em up wherever he went."

"One way to keep a travel log, I guess." You smile, and for just a second Eddie smiles back. Not the pleased smirk or the sardonic grin he’d given you talking about his music. A genuine, happy thing that softens his eyes.

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth. He really is good looking up close. You can’t help thinking that maybe he would have been from a distance, too, if you’d ever allowed yourself to look.

Eddie seems to sense the change in your demeanour. If you were less desperate, you might regret prompting the loss of his shy, pleased expression. As it is, the return of his mouth to your neck has you rubbing your thighs together, seeking friction already. Teeth scratch the skin of your jaw, a tease of coming roughness that has your toes curling in your shoes.

“C’mon through,” he says, turning your acquiescent body the direction he wants it to go, walking behind your clumsy legs.

“Okay, this makes way more sense,” you laugh. This room is all him. Records and cassettes, multiple guitars, clothes everywhere. The smell of smoke, the smell of Eddie.

A messy bed. A dirty ashtray. An open pack of Trojans.

Eddie hums dismissively, pressing himself to your ass. He feels hard and ready, twitching against you at the soft, feminine sound of surprise you let out. Experienced fingers smooth up your thigh, until his hand is digging into the softness at the top, a single thumb playing with the frilled elastic of your panties.

“How do you want it?” His thumb smooths along cotton, finds the split of your pussy through the fabric and your cunt clenches. “Hm. How about I get you warmed up first, yeah? Play with this little pussy till I can slide right in.”

Eddie presses his thumb up where you are wettest, humming happily at the heat of your cunt while your knees shake, ready to collapse and leave yourself open to whatever he wants.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s how I want it.”

“Well, good,” he laughs, his free hand pulling up the hem of your skirt. “‘Cause that’s how you’re going to get it.”

Your eyes flutter at the feeling of Eddie's callused fingers dipping under the waistband of your panties. He stops a minute to play with the curls of hair on your mound and smiles against your neck at the pleading wiggle of your hips. When Eddie’s fingers pull your lips apart, exposing your sticky cunt to his touch, he sighs approvingly into your ear. "There she is."

His fingers tease gently at your entrance, gathering wetness and rubbing at the smooth lips of your cunt while you both stare down at his hand working beneath the fabric of your panties.

“Fuck,” you breathe, knowing he must be feeling exactly how excited and ready he has you. Eddie fills your clenching cunt with two fingers, the stretch of them walking that blissful line between pleasure and pain. Your body jolts at the intrusion, but the sound you let out is pleased, a quiet gasp and whimper that prompts Eddie to breathe a laugh into your neck.

“You like that?”

You nod rapidly, hips jumping at every slow movement of his wrist, the aching stretch and drag of his fingers in your cunt. The press of callused pads against your walls, catching perfectly against the sensitive skin of your walls and-

“Oh, fuck.”

Eddie curls his arm tight around the front of your waist when he feels you start to slide away, steadying you against him with a delighted laugh. "This is the best fucking part with girls,” he tells you, angling his wrist just right, your mouth falling open to allow you to gasp air into your lungs in between groans. “You’ve got all these fun little spots to work with.” He squeezes your waist for emphasis, presses his lips to your ear. “Want to know my favourite?”

Eddie’s thumb finds your swollen clit, and you know in an instant exactly why girls forget they have boyfriends when he touches them.

He starts fucking your cunt with his fingers, pressing tight to the perfect spot inside each time while his thumb rubs tight, focused circles on your sensitive button. Your thighs shake around his hand, and Eddie coos a mocking tone that only serves to make you clench tighter around him.

You can hear it. The building wetness, louder every second, but you can't think to be embarrassed, not when Eddie's tucked his chin on your shoulder to stare down at your body, rolling and flinching to the rhythm he sets.

"Oh, god. Fuck, fuck-"

Your toes curl in your shoes, hips chasing his fingers and their magic though he makes no move to stop. Together, the sensitivity of your clit and your clasping hole build until you're crying out, reaching behind you to press a hand to Eddie's cheek. It’s a sudden need, an ache to see him, the person giving you this, the person determined to bring you to this blissful peak you have been desperate to reach for a long time. The ecstatic tremors people are always talking about.

Eddie’s face turns to yours at your desperate touch. He is all flushed cheeks and prettiness; excitement in those wide eyes, his tongue peaking out in his concentration. He hums a questioning tone, and you moan back, mouth open and breathing in the smoke and mint of his breath.

Eddie's lips are soft looking and pink. Simultaneously, or perhaps one follows the other, the thought crosses your mind that he might kiss you, and you cum on his rough fingers.

Your body seizes up, caught between searching for more of the pleasure he brings and trying to push him away as it reaches a painful edge. Eddie's fingers are steady and unrelenting until the hand on his cheek is pushing back to tangle in his hair and you are gasping. You ache for more of his touch, the high it seems only he is capable of giving you.

You wonder if it’s always like this, after. The feeling that parts of your body are more his than yours, now.

"Please, fuck me."

Eddie grins, dimples pressing sweetly into his cheeks, giving your clit one last mean rub just to feel the jolt of your body pressing to his. His fingers are wet with your slick when he brings them between your faces, expression a little crazed. That pink tongue appears again to lap at his middle finger, his eyes fluttering then fixating on you.

Your mouth opens before he even asks. Eddie presses his fingers, still dripping with you, against your tongue. It's musky and salty and natural. Nothing amazing, but the way Eddie's watching you take it gives you half a mind to suck on the digits, just to see how he might look at you while you do it.

He pulls his hand away before you can make good, running the pads over your bottom lip.

"It's my favourite," he murmurs, big eyes set on your drooling mouth.

A feral, desperate part of you wants to ask if he means he likes yours best, this boy who must know the taste of so many. Your eyes flicker to his own pouty mouth, but he doesn't give you the time to lean in the way you might want to.

"Get on the bed." Eddie releases your body, leaving you cold along your back and where his arm had held you tight around your waist. Body thrumming, you settle yourself back on his mattress, toeing off your shoes and opening your legs to let your skirt slide tauntingly up your thighs.

If you were coming to realise how attractive Eddie was before, one orgasm deep you are convinced of his beauty. He looks even better like this; flushed and a little sweaty, his messy hair the work of your fingers. You watch him, panting, while he removes the heavy leather jacket and his shirt, throwing them carelessly to the floor. The tattoos that decorate his pale arms and chest have you sinking deeper, wiggling your hips to try and find friction against his mattress.

“You gonna take your shirt off?” He asks with a smirk. “Let me see your tits?”

You glance down at them, wondering not for the first time what the appeal is, and look up to find Eddie’s lithe hands pulling at his belt. The clink of the buckle makes your cunt clench, watching his fingers pull leather through metal. Your own hands find the hem of your top to pull it up and over your head, face heating at his unashamed gaze on the newly exposed skin.

“This, too?” You ask, reaching behind you to the clasp of your bra.

His lips curve. “You know many guys who’d say no?”

“I’m asking you.”

Eddie blinks, eyes flicking up to yours. You see him swallow under his pale throat and then he clears it, hands losing their grace to frantically undo the button and zip of his jeans.

“Yeah,” he nods, teeth abusing his pillowy bottom lip. “That, too.”

You pull at the clasp and let it fall. Eddie moans at the back of his throat, his hand slipping into the exposed check fabric of his boxers. The desperate movement of his wrist under cotton, brought on by the sight of you, could fool you into thinking he was new to this. Dark eyes drift back and forth like he’s trying to pick his favourite, a pink tongue peaking out in a show of concentration.

You laugh, shaking your shoulders to give him a show, and it’s like you’ve reset him.

Eddie grunts, takes a long breath, and pulls his thick cock from his boxers. He drags his hand over his length in a smooth stroke, the excited boy that had you giggling just a second ago replaced in an instant by a man showing off.

He has a right to it. You search for friction from his mattress at the sight of him, long and thick. A dripping head exposed when he pulls back pink skin around swollen flesh. He'll hit the end of you, that spot he’d found with his fingers. And he’ll split you apart while he's at it.

Eddie tears open a condom wrapper with his teeth, smoothing the wet rubber down from his tip until it's stretched transparent and clinging to his heavy cock. He tilts his chin up proudly at your unashamed stare, his dick twitching.

"Turn over."

Happy to do as you're told if it gets him inside you faster, you turn your back to him and fall to your hands and knees. Once you are staring at his headboard, a ringed hand finds your shoulder, pushing you down until your chest is flat to his sheets, your ass up and on display for him.

"You still want it, right?"

You hardly think you can be hearing him right. You turn your head as best you can with half your body held flat like this, but he is out of eyeshot, your gaze only finding a stack of amps and a pile of wires that further mark this room as his. Unable to catch him, you settle for wiggling your hips, grinding into the air, your humility lost to his fingers and the sight of his cock. "Uh, no, my pussy's in the air waiting for somebody else to come along. Be serious, Eddie."

A half there chuckle sounds above you, and a quick warm kiss is pressed to the curve of your back as his hands flip up your skirt. "Fuck yes," he breathes, eyeing your ass cupped sweetly in wet panties until he gets his fingers in the elastic to pull them down to your knees.

You feel exposed, your most intimate place bare and open to his gaze, but you are as hot and wanting as ever, whining low into his sheets. The hand on your shoulder drifts down your back to your hip, his thumb rubbing gently over your skin when his cock meets the entrance of your pussy.

"Relax," he says, the first gentle push of his hips not enough to get him inside when you're this wound up, body resisting the intrusion. Eddie keeps stroking your hip, lets you clench and unclench your fists and toes in your effort to let go. "'m gonna make you feel real good," Eddie assures, the promise in his tone a comfort. "Just as soon as you're ready, okay?"

You mewl, wanting that more than anything. With a long sigh, you let the soft caress of Eddie's warm hand and the ease of his voice soothe you until your body is loose and supplicating.

"That's right. Let me in, sweetheart."

The slow stretch of his cock pressing inside you is an aching, brilliant burn. Your fingers curl into the bed, stuck between pushing back onto him and giving in to whatever pace he wishes to set. He stops before he reaches the end of you, panting in the air, hand caressing your hip. You whine when he pulls back, pussy clenching up in a desperate attempt to keep him inside.

“'m tryna be gentle,” he laughs, pressing his face to your shoulder with a shaky breath. "This pussy needs looking after, ‘kay? S’too tight to force it, so don't rush me."

You nod, rubbing your cheek on his sheets, surrounded by the smell and feel of him. Eddie works you open slowly with his cock, pushing deeper before taking the sweet stretch away over and over again until you’re shaking with need. Your pussy flutters around the invading inches of his cock, twinges of pain slowly giving way to sweet pangs of pleasure.

“Doin’ so well,” he soothes, breathing harshly through his nose. “Want it all, don’t ya?”

“Want it all,” you repeat

"You need it a little harder?"

"Mm, yeah. Need it harder."

Eddie gives you one last slow roll of his hips, his strong hands drifting up to grasp at either side of your waist.

With the first rough thrust, you are crying out. His thick head meets that spot his fingers had located inside you, mapped out and known to him already. Eddie’s cock, heavy and hot, slides easily through the soaked walls of your cunt, your body happily inviting him to use you just like this.

The aching stretch, the drag of his cock inside you, the dirty tease of his heavy balls smacking your clit with the way he has your hips tilted. Almost as good as all of that is the sound of Eddie above you.

Masculine groans and fuck yeah's. Boyish laughter when your cunt squeezes happily around him, the delightful humiliation of it only encouraging your pussy to keep clasping his cock.

"Feels good, yeah? Yeah. S'good for me, too, baby. It's a sweet little cunt you're giving me."

You shudder, whining at the sound of that. You don't exactly think it; you just know somewhere that it's true. If Eddie will touch you, fuck you, talk to you like this? Give him your pussy is exactly what you'll do. If he wants, he can have it to keep.

You can feel that perfect incline wanting to happen again. Eddie has you mewling under him, your hips squirming to encourage his thick, warm cock deeper with every thrust he gives you.

You have hit the familiar wall. Pleasure mounting and mounting, going nowhere. Only now it’s Eddie fucking you, and you trust him already to take you exactly where you need to go.

"I wanna cum again," you whine, barely noting the stutter of his hips. "Wanna cum. Please."

He doesn't reply for too long, waiting until a frustrated cry leaves your lips. "I like the sound of you begging," he answers, the salacious grin on his face audible in his tone. "A little more wouldn't hurt."

Your toes curl in half irritation and half need, hating him a little despite the pleasurable prickle his teasing causes to dance up your spine. You consider screaming into his sheets until he gives you what you need. You could grab his hand and force it between your legs, or else try to draw the ecstasy up yourself if you didn't think he would only stop fucking you as punishment.

Eddie presses deep and then deeper still, the head of his cock rubbing perfect at the end of you, and you know then that you have no use for pride when it comes to him.

With shaking arms, you push your chest up from the mattress until you are resting on your palms, elbows locked straight. When you look back, you find Eddie flushed and sweaty, dark curls stuck to his forehead and his pink cheeks. His brown eyes are round and surprised to be looking into yours, shifting back and forth between your left and right.

"Eddie," you say, his name leaving your mouth as a moan. "Please make me cum. I need-" You stutter and gasp at his fingers tightening a bruising grip on your waist, your clit throbbing in response to the demonstration of the strength in his hands. "I need you to do it for me, Eddie."

He blinks at you, pink lips open to let out his pretty groans. Then he's nodding, and his right hand disappears from your waist to find your clit.

"Thank you," you breathe at the first circle of the rough pads. Your pussy twitches as relief spreads through your body, already attune to what Eddie's touch there will bring. At once, the places he has found on your body take you to an edge that you would willingly throw yourself from. "Eddie. Eddie, Eddie- fuck-"

Your arms give way when your cunt throbs violently around him. Eddie follows you down, his chest curling over your back. He keeps his fingers working you through your high, wrapping his other arm around your front to hold you close. Reaching back to tangle your hand in his hair, you feel his lips, his warm cheek, at the sensitive skin of your neck, his aching closeness just as good as his cock at bringing about this ecstasy.

"Shit. Shit, you're so fucking good," Eddie groans, voice a pleasant vibration on your skin. His cock twitches and jumps inside your aching hole, and you feel the sudden warmth as his cum collects at the tip of the condom.

Your bodies twitch through aftershocks together, then slump as one to the bed. Eddie's chest holds tight to your back, his hairy thighs bracketing yours. For a few sweet, fuzzy moments, you are alone in the world with him.

You scratch gently at his head, fingers still lost in his messy locks. Eddie breathes a long sigh then makes a gentle happy sound like a relaxing cat.

You laugh softly, and lose him.

Eddie's comforting weight vanishes along with his warmth as he sits up. With a sigh, he pulls his softening cock out, your pussy aching with the significant loss when he's gone.

Once you think you can control your limbs, you roll over onto your back and stare at his ceiling, searching your chest for guilt over what you’ve just done. It's not your boyfriend you can hear pulling off a condom, not him searching a cluttered side table for a pack of cigarettes. It's not him who tosses himself back on the bed beside you with a bounce.

But you don't find shame. You're too busy feeling the relief that nothing is wrong with you. Your body is capable of what it should be, and in truth you are giddy with it. So much so that you find yourself laughing into the air, covering your face with your sweaty hands and shaking your legs at the knees.

“Where did you learn to fuck like that?”

When you take your hands from your eyes, Eddie has a cigarette hanging from his lips, a lighter in his hands waiting to be flicked. “Uh,” he starts, grabbing the unlit smoke so he can speak with both sides of his mouth free. “I don’t know. Practice, I guess. And then you just gotta, y’know, pay attention to what the girl likes, ‘n’ what she doesn’t like, I guess.”

You collapse into his pillows, watch him return the cigarette to his plush mouth and take a long drag, breathing out away from your face.

“What do I like?”

Dimples appear on the cheek closest to you, shallow crow's feet at his eyes. “Liked me sweet talking you while I bullied your cunt.”

The way your pussy clenches has you believing him, curling up at his side and watching him settle himself. “Mm. Yeah. Do you like that, too?”

Eddie blinks for a second like he hasn’t heard you correctly, tilts his face down to where you are lying on his mattress, gazing up at him with a dreamy smile. “Uh, yeah,” he nods, hair a beautiful mess, shifting with his movement. “But I kinda just like fucking, honestly, so…”

He laughs awkwardly, eyes shifting between you and his cigarette on a loop.

You nod. “I guess it’s just easier for guys.”

Eddie considers this, shrugs. “Yeah, in my experience.” He grins to the side. “Some days a strong breeze does it for me.”

You snort, reaching out to trace a line along the tattooed chain that curls around his torso. Eddie squirms a little like it tickles, but allows you to follow the links with your finger. You bite the inside of your lip, wondering where this need to tell Eddie everything you’re thinking came from.

“Got a confession,”

“Shit.” His eyes go wide, blinking fast with worry. “Shit, please don’t tell me I just took your virginity.” You smile, shake your head, and feel the tension leave his body. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that. What is it?”

You watch him take a drag from his cigarette, the slow rise and fall of his tattooed chest. “I, uh. No-one’s ever made me…finish, before.”

Eddie’s nose scrunches up sweetly. “Christ, that’s almost as bad. You came for the first time staring at my unmade bed.”

“I didn’t notice,” you tell him, swirling a finger around one link. Your teeth dig into the gum behind your lip. “Could’ve been looking at anything, probably, and I wouldn’t have noticed.”

Eddie licks his lips quickly, his gaze moving from your mouth to your eyes. “If I’d known it was your first time-”

“Not my first time-”

“Your first time reaching the big O, experiencing le petite mort, uh, blowing your lump-”

“Blowing my lu-”

“If I’d known,” he says, pressing a hand to his chest. “You’d have had a sweet view of this most handsome of faces between your thighs.”

You pause your touch on his stomach, blinking at him. The image is as invasive as it is appealing; those big eyes watching you while his mouth works your sensitive pussy. Your clit throbs at the thought even while you squirm with a touch of discomfort. "You really do that, Eddie?"

"Did I or did I not tell you pussy was my favourite taste?" Eddie asks, sounding a touch irritated until he takes in your expression. "You never even had your pussy eaten, sweet thing? Nobody even tried?"

When your head shakes timidly, Eddie huffs like he means it. “Man, what is the point of sex education? Everyone’s fucking anyway, but all these boys don’t know what the hell they’re doing.” He shakes his head, looking genuinely aggrieved for you. “Need a whole semester on how to find the Goddamn clit, or else find the patience to try looking for it in the first place.”

His genuine irritation has you amused and fond in equal measure. “Who would teach that class, Eddie?” You laugh, thinking of the man who’s been teaching sex ed since your parents attended Hawkins High.

“Hey, Coach Wright only pushes that abstinence only bullshit cause that’s what the man dictates," he snickers, clearly imagining it himself. "The man in this case being the Indiana Department of Education.”

“Of course,”

You like him like this. A boy you would have described as scary forty-eight hours ago, laughing with you, joking like old friends. If you feel any shame, it’s not for a boy across town you always thought too highly of. It’s for this boy here, who you really didn’t think of much at all. He is kind enough to be angry on your behalf. To look after you the way nobody else ever has.

And he’s pretty. You’re happy to admit it now. He is so pretty that when Eddie licks his lips and blows smoke from them, and the image of him between your thighs returns full force. What it would be to have those eyes on yours, the softness of those lips somewhere you can't see, only feel.

You swallow, rubbing your thighs together to deal with the growing throb of your clit.

Eddie catches the movement and blinks at you with a slow smile. He snuffs out the cigarette in the ashtray on his bedside table before turning to you with a little sigh. "You're desperate for it, huh?"

“Yeah,” you breathe. Abandoning any possibility of playing coy, you touch at the lithe muscle of his arm. “But, not, I mean- You don’t have to. It’s already-” You look at his pleased face, hoping he hears what you want him to know. “It’s already better than it has been for me. Like ever, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles at you shyly, gifting you the sight of one dimple and the sweet shine of his soft eyes. “I’m happy to hear that. I mean, I’m not happy that it wasn’t good before. Happy that it was good, that I was good. To you. You know?” You nod, heart aching, more endeared to him with every word he speaks now that the cocky boy you pushed you into this room and bent you over to take his cock has been replaced by this blushing one who is clearing his throat nervously under your adoring gaze. “Right, yeah. Gonna eat you out now, ‘kay?”

“Okay, Eddie.”

With gentle firmness, he leans over your face to help you lie back into his pillows, his hair falling around you and tickling your cheeks. Eddie mumbles an apology and tucks it back behind his neck only to find you staring up at him, expression soft and wanting. You watch each other. His eyes flicker, and you think, not for the first time, about what it would be like if he kissed you.

"Just to be clear,” he says, voice soft until- “It wasn't talking about Coach Wright that got you going again?"

The reverie is broken with his laugh and your mortification. "Oh my God, Eddie, obviously not!"

"You sure? Cause I pride myself on giving, and if you need my flawless impression to make this the best it can be, I will do that for you, sweetheart." He presses a short kiss to your collar while you giggle, shaking your head at him. His lips linger at your chest, his wet tongue gliding over your nipple, lips sucking till you gasp. Just as you’re about to moan his name, he releases the pebbled bud to laugh. When he looks up, his eyes are watering with mirth. "You have some amount of nerve to look me in the eye and call that running!"

"Stop!" You cry, toes curling at the too accurate impression of the old man's crackly Southern drawl as Eddie giggles into the softness of your stomach.

"My grandmother Mabel moves faster, and she's been dead near twenty years, God rest her soul!"

"Eddie, I hate that!"

"Oh?” He says, running a finger around your belly button. “You want dirty talk? Why, you look so damn sexy climbing that rope I could-"

You squeal, kicking your legs either side of his torso, and reach down to press a hand over his mouth, feeling the humidity of his laughing breaths against your palm. "Sto-op," you whine, waiting till he's finished laughing and is blinking slowly before moving your hand. Eddie smiles at you, dimples on display, and kisses your stomach again, down to the top of your thigh. His tongue peaks out at the sensitive skin there, hot and wet, and the throb in your cunt reminds you why he’s there.

Eddie chances a look at you, and you see in his expressive eyes that he's thinking about speaking. Instinct brings your hands to his hair, brushing back some of the damp curls at the front. His eyes flutter, some tension in his body gives way, leaving him with a cheek resting on your thigh.

He swallows then speaks. "You want me, then?"

Your chest hurts. You don’t look away. "Yes, Eddie. I want you."

His eyes close tight for a few seconds, until you drag your fingers through some of the displaced curls, scratching soothingly with the pads of your fingers at his scalp. He hums softly, blinks again, then sighs as he sinks down between your thighs.

“Ah, there she is,” he says, any traces of vulnerability lost the second he catches sight of your pussy, wet, swollen, and waiting for him. “Oh yeah, she needs more, for sure. Should’ve told me earlier, baby. I would’ve helped you out.”

“I didn’t-”

“Shhhh,” he breathes, hooking a leg over his shoulder and pressing the other aside and up so he can push in close, the soft plushness of his lips brushing your mound when he grins. “Wasn’t talking to you. ‘M having a conversation, here.” Eddie kisses at the curls of hair above your cunt, drifting down until his breath becomes a teasing caress. He gives your twitching clit a single kiss, lips wrapped perfectly around it, and your legs jump either side of his head. “Yeah, you were saying?”

“You’re so fucking weird,” you laugh, half caught between amusement and desperate anticipation, covering your face with your hands while Eddie mumble apologies to your cunt for the second interruption.

“She’s just jealous, sweet thing," he murmurs, leaving wet kisses down to your entrance, his nose bumping your aching button. "She doesn't understand our connection."

He licks, broad and hot, up the length of your cunt with a satisfied groan. "Tastes so fucking good."

Eddie's head shakes, pressing his mouth to your weeping pussy, lapping at your soft entrance. You listen to the sound of his tongue, his satisfied lip smacks and grunts, and realise he was entirely serious about loving this. Your toes curl at every stroke of his tongue, soothing the ache his cock left behind.

You are taunted by the way his nose keeps brushing your clit, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves that is desperate for his mouth. If it weren't for the building ache, you could watch Eddie like this for hours. Hair messy and sticking all over his face, eyes closed in bliss. The way his head moves like he wants to get deeper, taste everything you have to give.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, give a gentle tug, and his soft eyes find yours.

They remain half closed from satisfaction, the warmest brown lost to dark pupils. They are still the prettiest pair of eyes you've ever seen.

"Feels good," you whine, tangling one hand in his curls. With the other, you smooth down your mound to the top of your cunt, exposing your clit with two fingers so he can see the sweet button he's been torturing. "But I need you here. Please, Eddie."

He pulls himself from your entrance with a gentle gasp of air, the bottom half of his face soaked with you. Your talkative boy doesn't say a word, just nods desperately before lathing his tongue over your clit.

Your thighs lock around his head without you even noticing. Your body is desperate to keep him there, though there really is no need to try and force him. Eddie will kiss your clit till you're crying if you promise to say his name like that every time it feels good.

He circles his tongue around the top of your cunt, playing with the nerves and watching the drop of your chin, the slow but constant nod of your head while you cry out. You feel your pleasure building under his mouth, the now familiar crest approaching. Your clit twitches with your thighs and Eddie groans happily, sensing the approaching high he's drawing out with his worship of your pussy.

Eddie gives you the perfect satisfied sound from the back of his throat, wraps his pillowy lips around your clit to suck gently at the swollen button. Your cunt numbs for a split second, close to pain, then sends flashes of ecstasy through your body as you cum. Eddie’s name comes just like he wanted, in a stream of grateful whines.

When your limbs lose their tension, legs falling limp against his shoulders, you think this must be what it feels like to be high. Even the final press of Eddie's lips to your oversensitive clit only draws a soft grunt from you. The loss of his warmth is sudden and sharp, but you don’t let him go for long. When you feel him flop down beside you on the bed you search for him and find his hand, as strong as you had thought it would be. You press your fingers to his palm until he holds your hand properly, grounding you enough that you feel ready to speak.

"That was amazing. I mean," you breathe a laugh, turning to look at him, finding him staring up at the ceiling. "Holy shit, Eddie. You have some kind of gift."

He doesn’t glance over, blinking those big eyes at any sight but you. The movement feels natural, to try and get his attention by bringing your joined hands to your mouth. You leave a kiss to his knuckles and Eddie finally looks at you, eyes shiny.

"Can I," you murmur into the back of his hand. "Can I stay for a while?" Your face heats at the poorly hidden surprise on his face, but you push forward with a nervous giggle. "Kinda need to wait until I can feel my feet again, anyway."

"You can stay as long as you want, sweetheart," he nods, swallows, then corrects himself. "As long as you need.”

You chew your lip, leaning in a little to just rest your temple at his shoulder. "Good, cause I actually kind of need to know why one person needs so many amps."

You feel the subtle shake of his laughter under your head, soothing and warm, and curl up at his side, pulling at his arm until it clasps you tight. You let yourself enjoy the happiness in Eddie's voice.

"A metalhead can never have too many amps, Princess," he assures. "Allow me to explain…"

.⋆｡⋆✮˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

A little part of him hates you.

He didn’t demand you look at him like he was special, important to you, or moan his name like that when you came. He didn’t invite you in so you could ask him about his amps, or his handmade Corroded Coffin poster, or Wayne’s collection of mugs. He didn’t ask you to stay, you just did it.

Eddie let you stay too long, and held you in his arms too tight. He’d spoken too much, answered every question and asked his own before listening to more than he should have. He let himself get a taste of what it might be like to be wanted by you all of the time, not just when you are left disappointed by whoever you came to him to replace, forget, or punish. He might as well have smoked a whole twenty pack of Camels, the way all that sweetness turned to ash in his mouth.

“What are you going to do now?” He’d asked, when his van stopped outside of your Mom’s pretty front garden. He’d stared at the petunias and felt stupid for even asking.

“Call my boyfriend.”

He’s glad it was dark, glad you were staring at your hands so you didn’t see him flinch. Eddie used the minute of silence after to mourn what he never had, then he’d felt you shift beside him. Your lips found the corner of his mouth, your eyes and his shut tight to savour it. An almost kiss, more fitting than anything else you could have given him.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you’d whispered, warm breath spreading over his cheek. Cool where the tears were. “Tonight was…special.”

Eddie watched you walk inside, then slammed the heel of his palm into the dashboard until his wrist ached.

Bea showed up at his trailer the Sunday after. She flashed the stretchy green fabric covering her mound under her pleated skirt and Eddie thought about all the times pulling at the elastane and hearing it snap back onto sensitive skin made his cock jump, trying to will that reaction when she placed her vanilla scented skin against his, rubbed her fingers over his crotch. She took his wrist to pull him towards his room, and he felt panic overtake any excitement in his chest.

Would he lose the scent of you on his sheets if she lay herself down where he wants you to be?

“Can we, uh, slow down?” Eddie had asked, planting his feet in the hallway before his room, feeling the pause before she replied as a physical presence between them.

“Slow down and do what, exactly?”

Eddie’s lips twitched. Let me tell you all about my Uncle’s mug collection, he almost said.

“I don’t know, I just- I need a minute. We could talk.”

Her hand dropped his wrist, found her hip instead. “Okay, but you know that’s not what this is, right?”

“Yeah. No, I know. I mean-” He sighed, thought, fuck, what have you done to me? “I know what this is. I’m not your boyfriend, but I’m not a sex toy, either, okay?”

"Don't act like you don't get something out of this too, Munson."

Edde ran a hand through his hair and thought about how you'd pulled his face to yours with it, how much you wanted to hold him, see him while he made you feel better than anyone else ever had. The way you’d stayed after like it meant something.

"Not what I want," Eddie said, walking decidedly back to his front door to throw it open and gesture to the cold air. "You may take your leave."

"Whatever," Bea mumbled, her arm crossing her body, the insecurity brought on by rejection apparent in her stance. Eddie felt a touch of guilt about it. "I know one of them probably gave you puppy eyes and made you think you might have a shot, Munson, but just so you know, none of the girls are interested in you for more than this. We do talk, you know?"

The guilt vanished, swiftly replaced by hot sharp shame that stung his throat.

"I mean, don't fool yourself, Munson. You're fun, but you're nobody's boyfriend."

"Just…get out."

When she was gone, her baby blue sports car pulling away from his home, Eddie threw himself into his bed and allowed himself a moment to breathe the smell of you before he covered his eyes with his fists and swallowed tears

You're all he can think about. Sweet memories mixing with terrible dread, the knowledge that the dream will end abruptly for him on Monday. It's the same story as all those other girls. You'll be back with your boyfriend by then, resentment worked out by Eddie's cock. Maybe in a week or two you'll show up at his trailer, wide eyed and wanting.

The only thing worse than that would be if you never came around again. It’s sick, he realises, but he’d put himself through it for the way you look when you cum, would go through even worse for the way you say his name when you laugh.

Eddie wonders if he can avoid the sight of you when he gets into school, keep you out of sight and until you leave his mind. But he's not at his locker longer than ten seconds when he swears he can sense your presence from the drop of his stomach.

Eddie looks up, and there you are. Walking with your boyfriend. Kenneth Hunt (dubbed Kunt by Gareth in what Eddie felt was a stroke of genius), worse than a bully. Puts on a real nice front for teachers and parents and girls. He rarely takes part in the real shit, just stands on and watches like being there while his friends shove Dustin or Jeff into a locker makes him tough. He’ll throw some insults occasionally when he’s feeling particularly brave. He’s pathetic.

But he has you.

“Fuckin’ idiot, Munson,” he mumbles, hating himself for believing for even a second that it wouldn’t have ended this way for him. Soon, as you pass him, one of two things will happen.

You will bury yourself into that prick’s chest, bat your pretty eyes at him and act like you need protection from the freak.

Or you’ll ignore him, flounce past like you didn’t fall apart on his fingers and his tongue and his cock. Like you didn’t lie warm and comfortable with him in his bed for hours. Like he didn’t make you smile. Like you didn’t almost kiss him.

His chest already aches, and he’s thinking seriously about skipping his next class and hotboxing his van just to forget he ever let you in anywhere; his van, his room, his stupid, throbbing heart.

Only, Eddie blinks at you, trying to work this scene out. You aren’t cooing in Kenneth’s ear. Or putting on that baby voice girls do with boys they like. Your face is scrunched, fingers curled into fists rather than pressed lovingly at his arm. Actually, you’re hissing at each other, the frustrated sound of a public argument trying to be kept private.

“Baby, I seriously don’t understand where all this is coming from!”

“I explained already,” you answer, exasperated, shaking your wrist from his hand. “I just don’t think we’re right for each other.”

You’re approaching, and his naïve heart calls for you, hope a dangerous warmth in Eddie’s chest.

You look up. Your eyes find his.

“Since when, though? I just-”

“Hi, Eddie.” You wave, giving him a pretty smile, your head tilted shyly.

“Hi,” he breathes. He wouldn’t have been able to hide his excitement if he tried. But you aren’t trying, so why would he?

You bite the inside of your lip and scan him up and down, taking in his dark mess of curls, his ripped jeans and his Reeboks as you walk past with a subtle, flirty smile. Kenneth pauses, losing ground on you to instead stare at your retreating form. He turns to Eddie, jaw loose, eyes displaying his desperate attempts at joining what to him must seem like completely unconnected dots.

Kenneth’s fists clench, and he shakes the very idea from his head. “Freak,” he bites, taking off after you.

Eddie huffs a laugh, because the insult doesn’t matter anymore. Not when this new knowledge is so sweet.

He watches the letterman jacket jog up after you, and thinks, I fucked your ex-girlfriend stupid.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic

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gamergoddess003 · 6 months

Text

Stoner Daryl

Summary: Y/n is new to Alexandria and meets Daryl. She thinks Daryl is attractive as soon as she sees him. Daryl invites her over to smoke and he finds himself thinking she is cute.

Warnings: Use of marijuana and tobacco, cussing, p in v, oral female receiving, grinding, a little fluff.

Note: Daryl is mid 40s and the reader is mid 20s. Pre-saviors.

Another note: If you are reading for the cute Daryl stoner part, I’ll mark where you can skip the smut part of the story with a red line. The ending has more stoner and fluff.

____________________

Being new to Alexandria, y/n didn’t really know anyone. She stuck around Rosita for the first few days because Rosita was the one who found her and brought her here.

Sitting on the front porch of Rosita and Abraham’s house, y/n and Rosita talked about random things that came to mind. Y/n looked over towards the gates and saw a man ride in on a motorcycle.

“Who’s that?” Y/n asked.

“That’s Daryl. He’s been out on a run for a week. He likes to go out by himself. He actually lives across the street.”

Daryl rode his motorcycle into his driveway and got off. He looks over and sees Rosita waving at him and he waves back then went inside.

Rosita looks over at y/n and sees that her face is starting to blush a little bit. She asked if she was alright and y/n slowly looked up at Rosita and said,

“Uhh.. I.. I haven’t seen a man so.. I donno.”

Rosita smiled and looked at y/n with the face of that she knows what y/n was trying to say. Hearing Daryl come out of his house, Rosita called him over. Y/n looked at Rosita with wide eyes, then looked at Daryl walk up. He was even more attractive up close.

As Rosita introduced y/n to Daryl, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. He held out the pack to y/n and she took a cigarette and lit one too.

“That shit stinks. I’m going inside.” Rosita complained and then left.

It was awkward silence for a moment and then Daryl sat on the front step on the porch. He didn’t have that much to say but he did ask questions to get to know her a little bit.

They talked for about 15 minutes and within that time, y/n got more comfortable talking to him and told him that she used to smoke weed before the fall and that she hasn’t been able to smoke since then.

Daryl looked at her for a moment and asked her if she wanted to smoke. She accepted the offer and they both walked to Daryl’s house. Apparently Daryl lives in the basement.

Y/n sat on the couch and Daryl walked over to his dresser and pulled out a tray, a jar of weed, and some papers that he uses to roll joints and cigarettes when he couldn’t find any. He sat next to her on the couch and went on to start breaking down some nugs of weed. Y/n picked up a bright green nug. She smelled it and let out a sigh with a smile.

“Mmmmm.. I haven’t smelled weed in so long. My mouth is watering.” She chuckled.

Daryl looked at her and smiled and huffed a laugh through his nose. He decided to let her get the first hit and handed her a joint and a lighter.

Since it at been so long that she smoked weed, it didn’t take her much to get high. She was so high that she really came out of her shell and wouldn’t stop talking.

Daryl sat and listened and started to realize that he found her cute. He didn’t know what to do at first because it’s been a while since he felt that way, so he left to go upstairs to get some water.

When he sat back down, he sat closer to her, making his leg press against hers. She looked away, feeling all types of butterflies in her stomach and took a deep breath.

He leaned back and stretched his arm across the back of the couch. Y/n didn’t notice that he did that and when she leaned back, she felt his bicep touching the back of her neck. Looking over at Daryl, her eyes met with his and they sat in silence. His eyes lowered down to her lips and back up at her eyes.

Y/n licked her lips which made him look at her lips again. He slowly leaned in and placed a light kiss on her lips then slowly broke the kiss, backing away only inches from her face. She looked in his eyes and smiled. Daryl wrapped his arm around her pulling her closer and kissed her again, but this time it lasted longer.

Drowning in their kiss, y/n reached her hand up and placed it on his jawline.

___

With his other hand, he placed it on her thigh and it made shivers go down her spine. She wanted him.

She stuck her tongue out a little, making it touch his lips. He smiled into the kiss and proceeded stick his tongue all the way in her mouth and moved it around her’s. While he passionately made out with her, his hand moved to the inside of her thigh and squeezed it (not too hard), making her arch her back.

Daryl sat back and y/n climbed on top of him. Whilst continuing their kiss, she slowly moved her hips around, grinding on him. He slid his hands under her shirt, feeling the soft skin of her back on his rough hands. He pulled the shirt up and over her head then went on to unhook her bra, revealing her breasts.

Daryl let out a deep breath and grabbed her ass, picking her up. He walked over and laid her on his bed, then started to kiss her again. He migrated his kiss down her jaw, neck, then onto her chest. With one hand, he grabbed one breast and kissed the other one.

The feel of his beard and lips and the warmth of his breath touching her bare chest sent tingles with down her spine and she arched her back. Daryl stuck out his tongue and traced it down her stomach and kissed her lower belly, right above her pants. He stood up some and started to unbutton her jeans.

Slipping off her jeans and panties, he proceeded to take off his vest and unbuttoned his shirt and tossed them on the bed. He knelt down on the floor putting his face between her legs.

Y/n sat up on her elbows and looked at him being so close to her private area. Seeing her face, he smirked and kissed the inside of her thigh, making his way closer to her core. His breath was warm as he hovered his mouth close, and he looked up at her for approval. Not stopping him, he pecked a kiss on her clit and the feeling made her lay back. He chuckled a warm-breathed laugh on her and sunk his tongue between her folds.

She quickly took a deep breath and let out a soft, long moan.

“Mmmm it’s been so long.” Y/n moaned.

He wrapped his arms around her thighs because she kept squirming. How could she not squirm when Daryl has his tongue deep inside her pussy, making her heart race from the adrenaline.

When Daryl was done eating her cunt, making it sloppy wet, he stood up, unbuckled his belt, and pulled his pants down to his ankles. He leaned over y/n and looked her right in the eyes, and started to trace circles with his cock all in her wetness.

Y/n gasped as he slipped the head of his dick inside her and let out a moan as he pushed the rest of his long, girthy cock deep inside her.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” Daryl said as he slid inside.

After a moment of being still, he was looking at the expression on her face and it pleased him to know she was in bliss because of him. He moved in and out of her slowly so she could get used to his size.

Speeding up the pace, he ended up having to cover y/n’s mouth to muffle her loud moans of pleasure.

“Ohhh Daryl, I’m about to cum!” She moaned into his hand.

Daryl slammed into her harder and she filled up with her gooey orgasm, soaking Daryl’s cock. The feel of her warm wetness made Daryl reach his climax. He pulled out and ejaculated in the basket of dirty clothes next to the bed.

Y/n laid on the bed for a moment and then asked for something to clean herself with. Daryl pulled up his pants and walked upstairs, shirtless, to get a towel.

Carol was standing in the kitchen and saw Daryl come from the direction of his room and into the bathroom, exiting with a towel in his hand. He saw her in his peripheral and looked at her. He stood there like he was a deer caught in the headlights. Carol raised an eyebrow and Daryl blinked then went back downstairs.

“That was awkward.” He thought to himself as he walked down the stairs.

Daryl handed y/n the towel.

___

As she cleaned herself up and got dressed, he sat on the couch, still shirtless, and rolled another joint. When he looked up, he noticed that y/n was standing there and was wearing only her panties and the shirt he wore that day, which was thrown on the bed next to her. (The vest felt too big and was uncomfortable because of the leather.)

He smiled at her. He thought she was cute with her slightly messy hair and wearing his shirt.

He lit the joint and walked over to the bed and sat against his pillow and the headboard. Y/n crawled up in bed next to him and laid down. Daryl passed her the joint and moved to position himself on the bed next to her, pulling the blanket over the both of them.

Exhausted from the sexual activity between her and Daryl, and smoking another joint, y/n got tired. She fell asleep cuddled next to Daryl. Daryl couldn’t sleep though. He laid there with his arm around her and she had her head and hand on his chest, and he reminisced in his thoughts.

(The next day)

Y/n was standing in the kitchen of the house she stayed in with Rosita, making something for lunch. Rosita walks in and looks at y/n.

“Where were you last night? I never saw you come back in.” Rosita asks.

“I was at Daryl’s. We smoked and I... I got..tired.. and fell asleep..”

“Are you sure that all that happened? You paused for a second.”

“Wellll…….” Y/n says as she looks away then back at Rosita.

“I’ve just never known Daryl to be an intimate kind of person. He’s usually quiet and keeps to himself.” Rosita exclaims.

Y/n huffed a laugh out of her nose with a smirk and says,

“Quiet guys fuck the hardest.”

#stoner daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixion x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl smut #daryl dixon fluff #norman reedus

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everybodyloveshippos · 4 months

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Children of Malice

Vierna, Maya, Briza Drizzt, Nalfein, Dinin

redraw/redesign of the Do'Urden family (probably will draw Malice, Zak and Rizzen next)

design notes/headcanons under the cut

i usually just have thoughts about the character as im designing so for a few things i was like 'oh thats a thought' also yes i know children of malice is a CR thing too haha

-i wasnt originally gonna draw 'lolths embrace' since these are just my own designs not visual dictionary but like....facial markings are really cool and so i ended up looking up various spider markings (i only used those specific realworld spider designs for dinin, who i also gave darker marking as opposed to lighter) and briza

-i also prefer the idea that its not actually anything to do with lolth, its just a genetic marking that some have and some don't. also the proximity to magic/faezress theory (?) was cool so there's not a huge meaning here; though i guess im guilty bcus I didnt give them to drizzt or vierna

-maybe zak doesnt have them and neither do his kids which sorta spurs on the heretic theory when its actually just a genetic thing that has no actual bearing on lolth's favour

-the women wear more gold and the men more silver, however the men can wear gold; they just have to be wary with standing out more than their sisters. any given day could be too much and cause for a beating

-nalfein likes jewelry and decorations/makeup and is more flashy when he's away at sorcere. his ears are marked up from training with/lessons from zak, who frequently would smack his ears when he was displeased with him. they blend in with lolth's embrace and he will cover them with makeup or a glamour on occasion. i just got the sense he was somewhat insecure given how he kept challenging zak and was written off by his family as mediocre. i think he liked being at sorcere more than at the house

-drizzt takes out his braids whenever he can. he likes his hair loose

-so does dinin. i think a lot of his appearance is meant to attract attention and establish his individuality

-i've always given vierna bangs and a ponytail BUT i love her braids in the comic so I gave her those too. her hair is unruly, like drizzts. she has a couple visible scars as opposed to her sisters because she trained more with zak. he felt bad about it but a bit relived when she didnt make a big deal out of getting a bit marked up. malice was angry

-maya has markings on her ears, so she doesnt pierce them. she wears makeup but forgets its there, and sleeps in it and wipes it off by accident. since her hair is shorter she decorates with little spider gold clips

-i will die on the headpiece hill. og drizzt oldman swag

-compared to my older art of them (first fanart of the series! i knew i was in when i drew all the siblings lol) i think i changed nalfein most to be less ...square....i hit him w a yassification beam and gave him eyebrows

#clare's art #legend of drizzt #dnd #dungeons and dragons #drow #drizzt do'urden #dinin do'urden #vierna do'urden #briza do'urden #maya do'urden #nalfein do'urden

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crowborn666-nsfw · 8 months

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To Bite Or Be Bitten

(Bite kink is back baby)

Beelzebub x Reader

Tags: biting/marking, AFAB anatomy, oral(reader receiving),

~~~~~~

You opened the fridge, dressed in a loose tank top and sleep shorts. Shivering a little from the chill, you could quickly scanned the fridge’s contents for a decent midnight snack.

You gasped as a towering figure suddenly brushed against your back, looming over your shoulder as you rifled through the fridge. You calmed from your small fright though, recognizing Beelzebub’s demon form and hungry gaze.

“Oh Beel… here, lemme grab you something.” You stuck your head back into the fridge, unaware of Beelzebub’s wandering gaze towards the patch of skin that revealed itself when your shirt slipped.

Before you could reach in for a leftover box of Devil Chocolate Cake from Madame Screams, Beelzebub grabbed your arm in a gentle yet firm grip.

He pulled you out of the fridge, mumbling something about “not hungry for food” and shut it, the chill disappearing from the kitchen.

“Beel?”

“Can I have you instead?”

You blinked, dumbfounded. Sometimes you forgot how blunt Beelzebub could be.

You took in the blush on his cheeks, the glow of lust and hunger in his gaze, the way his eyes flicked over your form.

You couldn’t help but smile.

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

Beelzebub was on you in an instant, wings chittering behind him as he kissed you, hands resting on your waist. Your hands dug into his hair, standing on your tiptoes to meet him. Beelzebub scooped you up, setting you on the counter and caging you in.

His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, a gentle nip left behind.

“You can bite me if you want.” You offered, craning your head back as Beelzebub moved down your throat. He hummed, sucking a mark onto the side of your neck before biting down with care.

You bit your lip to keep quiet, leaning back to give room for Beelzebub to bite his way down to your chest. He left purple and red marks all over your skin, and you took note he left them in easily hideable places.

You glanced to his horns, your face just inches from them. With a mischievous smile, you leaned forward and bit down on one.

“Hey!” Beelzebub chided you gently, a grin forming on his face from your giggle. “Are you trying to eat me too?”

“Maybe~ Only if you promise to do the same.”

He moved then, lips capturing yours once again as he pulled you closer.

You felt the pact mark between you two tingle as you moved from his lips to his neck, biting down with a smile. Beelzebub let out an appreciative groan, his hands moving to your thighs and tracing shapes into the inner part of them.

You pulled back after a while, admiring your work. Your marks were much lighter than the ones you received, but you were content nonetheless.

Beelzebub kissed down your form, only tugging down your shorts after receiving your nod. He didn’t waste any time in pleasuring you, his warm tongue pressing flat to your folds.

You did your best to bite down your noises, face flushing as you met Beelzebub’s violet gaze.

“F-Feel’s good, Beel.” You murmured, covering your mouth with your palm to stifle your moan. Beelzebub nodded, tongue pressing into you as a thumb found your clit.

You moaned and gasped and whimpered as Beelzebub’s tongue darted in and out of you, collecting each drop of your juices.

With your free hand, you grabbed Beelzebub by a horn, tugging him impossibly closer as his rhythm began to tighten the knot in your stomach.

“Ju-Just like that, Beel! Oh, oh, keep doing that, ‘M close!”

In response, Beelzebub pressed closer, keeping his rhythm as his eyes flicked up to your face, watching it closely as your brows knitted in pleasure.

Your back arched and your thighs quivered as your orgasm hit you like a freight train, both hands coming to cover your mouth, hoping you were quiet enough in the night to not wake anyone.

You could distantly feel Beelzebub licking up every last drop of your release, clutching your thighs tightly.

Beelzebub stood and held you as you came down from your high, your head falling forward into his chest as your hands clutched his clothing.

He helped you onto your feet, tugging your clothes back into place for you before scooping you up.

“Thank you, (Y/n). That was just what I needed.”

“Thank you Beel.” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck and snuggling in. “Let’s head to bed, yeah?”

Beelzebub chuckled down at you, carrying you out of the kitchen and down the hall.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x reader #obey me beelzebub smut #obey me beel smut

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bidisastersanji · 5 months

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I'm impatient as fuck so here is part 2/3 of the "Zoro gets lost because he uses the red string of fate like a compass" :))) Part 1 here, Part 3 here, read it on AO3 here.

Sanji’s lungs burn, like a sharp blade incessantly scraping his chest from the inside. The unbearable, searing pain in his head, his legs, his ribs- his everything, really- are this close to making him pass out on the spot, but he’s used to dissociating from his battered body. He knows he’s bleeding out in various places, a familiar warm wetness seeping through his clothes, he knows his bones are bruised and broken. He keeps going.

He’s not a hundred percent sure that him running isn’t a hallucination.

But he has to find him. That absolute fucker of a swordsman.

His vision of the red thread he’s desperately running towards blurs a little bit- there must still be smoke in the air- but Sanji doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter. Not for a second. Single-minded, relentless, he throws his legs forward, one after the other, ignoring each sharp, fresh stab of pain as he does so. He won’t stop until he finds him.

The red string is there again. Is still there.

He’s still alive, he repeats to himself. But for how much longer...

His mom was the first to explain it to him. He could still remember her bright, cheerful smile when he told her about his soul mark, the way her elegant hands excitedly danced around when she explained what soulmates were, and what a wonderful thing it was that he had one. She’d seemed so happy for him, elated that someone out there was meant to be for her beloved son.

Starry-eyed and brimming with curiosity, he’d impatiently asked her every single question that popped into his mind- what were they like? Were they close by? How were they chosen? Why was it a red thread? Did he have to marry them? Were they pretty? Or kind? What if they were mean like his brothers? Would he get to meet them someday? Were mother and father soulmates too?

In her trademark fashion, Sora had patiently, lovingly answered all of them-all but one- but he didn’t notice, nor the way her smile faltered, just a little bit. Her hands were warm, cradling his own like he held all the treasure in the world between them. He, in turn, kept her words, her answers, her stories from that day, like a treasure as well. Sanji clung to this dream, of someone loving, caring for him unconditionally, despite his deficiency, his weakness. Just like the All Blue, it seemed almost too good to be true, but little Sanji didn’t let go, his belief an oasis to comfort himself with.

With every new tragedy fate brought him, his bright-eyed idealisation gradually made way for bitter disillusionment.

The unimaginable violence his blood relatives regularly inflicted on him served to remind him of his dreams’ unfeasibility. After all, how could anyone love a failure like him? How could he find such a legendary place when locked down in this cell? And yet, he clung to both dreams, the comfort of the paling red thread keeping him tethered, weakly fanning the dwindling flame of hope in his chest that he would one day be free from his torment, free to chase his dreams.

He tried not to worry about the thread fading. Guilt ate at him- maybe it reflected the strength of his belief, and that somehow felt like betraying his mother. She wouldn’t have lied to him, would she? She wouldn’t.

Sometimes, his brothers taunted him about it. Told him that having a soul mark was yet another proof of his weakness, and that they pitied whoever was stuck with their failure of a brother. Sanji cried and pleaded as the blows, physical and mental, bore down on him. The red string kept getting lighter and lighter, nearly translucent as they eroded his faith in it, until one day he no longer saw it at all.

Soul marks didn’t mean anything, really.

Because why would have fate wanted his sweet, kind mother to end up with a monster like Judge? How else could she have married this cruel tyrant who did not even mourn her death, or let their children mourn it?

No.

Soul marks’ meaning must be something ascribed by people, Sanji reasoned.

He escaped. Found people that were good to him, just like Reiju told him he would. With Zeff’s gruff but nurturing presence, Sanji slowly built himself back up. As he grew older, he let himself fall back into his romantic tendencies, daydreamed and idealised the concept of love, of intimacy. His body twirled and buzzed with the comfort that throwing himself at and serving beautiful women always brought him. For what better way was there to protect his brittle heart than to reach for something he already knew was unattainable? There was incredible safety in professing his love to a lady just passing by the restaurant for a night. No stakes at all to worry about.

On some sentimental days, he saw a flicker of red on his pinky.

Deep in his thoughts, prepping for the dinner rush, the rhythmic chops of his knife hitting the cutting board, he sometimes thought of the soulmate he used to fantasize about as a child. Wondered what he would do if that person found him, or if he stumbled into them. Would he even know? Feel anything? He wondered if his mother’s words had truth to them, offhandedly entertained the idea that love like the one in story books really existed out there. Zeff seemed to think so- had confided in him about his own soul mark on that godforsaken rock. Made it sound like, from what he’d seen on this wide, wide sea, soul marks were nothing to laugh at- just as much as how dreaming of the All Blue was nothing to laugh at.

It was in those moments that his heart imperceptibly opened, albeit temporarily, to the possibility of love, and he saw red flash in the corner of his eye. He didn’t linger on it. He didn’t even linger on it when it appeared with increasing frequency after leaving the Baratie.

Joining the straw hats breathed a second wind into Sanji. His smiles, his laughs became fuller, almost childlike at times, reminiscent of simpler times, as the unconditional love- given so freely by the captain and his crew- soothed his deep scars like a balm. Sanji learned that people could love him, rely on him, care for him. Perhaps his mother’s ideas on love hadn’t been so far off, even if he’d found it in another form.

There was something off about the shitty swordsman, though. Granted, they hadn’t been purely adversarial from day one. Zoro hadn’t seemed in search of a fight -with him at least- when they first crossed paths on the Baratie. Sanji could only remember weird looks, narrowed eyes searching his face, almost accusingly, even though they’d only just met. It quickly got on his nerves.

The guy naturally aggravated him, made him feel a tad uneasy, nervous. Which is probably why their fights always felt so satisfying, a blissful outlet to the inevitable tension that rose between them every day. Sanji’s skin sang with each clash and blow, and he tightened his jaw to keep himself from grinning with every petty insult thrown between them. (Zeff may have imparted his love language- words of disapprobation- to him.)

Nobody saw fit to comment on the odd rivalry between them, nor did they question his uncanny knack for finding the directionally challenged mosshead when he got lost. Sanji least of all of them- it just...happened. He must just have a talent for foraging algae and moss.

His stomach drops like a stone when he spots him.

Arms crossed, still as a statue, an ungodly amount of blood paints the rubble around him and drips from his body.

Sanji can’t think. Doesn’t even consciously register that, just as he suspected, the red thread on his hand is tied to Zoro’s own as he sprints to close the distance between them. He’s pure instinct, heart hammering in his chest as he furiously questions the injured swordsman. What happened here? Where did the warlord go? Sanji feels like his heart is trying to crawl out of his throat, thick, choking him, each lungful a strenuous effort he has to consciously make.

“Nothing...happened.”

Zoro seems a breath away from death and passes out in his arms. Sanji has no choice but to carry him the best he can to camp, hoisting him on his back, limping and near delirious with pain himself. He can’t let this shitty idiot die. He wants to kill him himself.

Thankfully, he gets to Chopper in time, only passing out when he sees the doctor in his heavy point carrying him away to treat him. His last thoughts as the darkness claims him are of the red string now stretching before him in the direction Chopper went.

Fuck.

#zoro x sanji #zosan #zosan fic #zosan fanfiction #zosan soulmate au #one piece zosan #one piece fanfiction #zoro gets lost #thriller bark angst #the vinsmokes fucking suck as always #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro

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partially-controlled-chaos · 1 month

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New Life Shall Prosper, ch. 3

Pairing: Halsin x Reader (as gender neutral as possible, given the context)

Rating: T? (not really smut, but there are some little spicy moments later on)

Warnings: Little spicy moments, but nothing extreme. Pregnancy complications, birthing process that isn't graphic, so much dialogue

Summary: Months after the fall of the Absolute, you and Halsin have carved a happy life for yourselves within Thaniel's Realm, making a safe haven for all. A life full of hope and prosperity, only enhanced once you discover the very real possibility that you are with child.

Word Count: 10.9K

an: Finally had time to finish this chapter up after a very long work week. I've got one more chapter planned for this fic and it'll be complete! Thank you so much to everyone that had interacted with this series and enjoyed it!!

Follow up to this post.

Read on AO3 here if you prefer!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 4

Masterlist

Supper by the campfire always brought back fond memories of your days on the road and you admittedly missed the nights of fun and story telling that would follow a long day of battle. Although the tadpoles were certainly a looming threat, the laughter that would erupt from the camp always made things a bit lighter. That’s not to say you didn’t enjoy the suppers you shared now under Thaniel’s Realm. Even though your small army of children listen to stories more than they shared their own, you adored the excitement that would show when a long tale was about to begin. They certainly preferred Halsin’s stories, but were quickly adapting to yours.

They’d had plenty of time to grow accustomed to your stories. What was meant to be a journey lasting only a ten-day had quickly surpassed the mark. A ten-day turned to a fortnight. A fortnight stretched into a full month. And the full month stretched into the beginning of a second. And now time was about to eclipse the end of the second month and Halsin still had not returned home with the scouting party. Because they had yet to return and you hadn’t received so much as a bird with a notice, you were unsure of how everything was. They could be lost, dead, fighting more, or possibly worse, but you had no way of knowing. You tried not to let this bother you in front of the children, not wanting them to worry either, so you always made it a point to tell the most exciting stories and perform with the enthusiasm of a bard reciting an epic tale. But deep down, you were worried. You wanted them all to return home safely, but you were mostly worried about your lover.

The children were huddled at your feet, seated on the ground before you after filling their bellies with the nightly supper. You had gathered them around the fire for their nightly tale, struggling to come up with one for the evening; your mind more focused on the lack of a druid than an engaging tale. You seated yourself on a log stump, sighing at the relief that came with no longer having to stand. By this point, you were in the last stages of your pregnancy and were mere days away from giving birth. Your belly had grown to as large as it would, making most movement difficult and uncomfortable. Not to mention the swelling and aches that accompanied the later stages.

“Will you tell us another story? Please, please! About an adventure!” Begged a child from the middle of the group, bouncing with excitement in their seat.

“No, no a battle!” Shouted another. The questions from the children broke your mind of its thoughts, pulling you back to the present quickly.

“Let me think,” you said while lightly tapping your chin with a finger with a playful grin, “have you been told the story of the frog of the bog?” You were greeted by a series of giggles and whispers. You couldn’t help but smile at the enjoyment in the children’s faces as they eagerly awaited your story; after seeing so many displaced children around the city that were scared and alone, it brought a great joy to your heart to see them enjoying the smaller things life could offer.

“I thought you said this was going to be a story about a battle?” Asked a child in the front of the group.

“Oh, but it is!” You said enthusiastically, “One of my greatest and most difficult.” As serious as you were, you couldn’t help but giggle at the look on the children’s faces. It was obvious that they didn’t believe that someone who had saved them from tentacle-faced monsters struggled to fight a tiny little frog.

“Frogs aren’t tough. They’re small and don’t even have teeth!” Shouted a younger tiefling, “Do they?”

“This one was fierce, my doves! Small and unassuming, but quite the challenge. Let me explain, little ones.” The children huddled tighter around at your feet, their excitement almost humming in the atmosphere as they eagerly awaited your tale.

You told the children the story of the addled frog you and your companions had stumbled across in the swamps near Ethel’s lair; the poor creature having been driven to the brink of madness from the hag. With kindness being in your nature, you had wanted to help the frog in any way you could, knowing what monsters lurked deep in the swamps only fueling the desire. But, given the confusion of the poor creature and your inability to speak with animals, what had initially started out as something close to a rescue mission, resulted in one of the genuinely tougher battles you had faced while playing host to a tadpole.

The ferocity and strength of the frog had caught you off guard, giving you a disadvantage when the small creature suddenly turned hostile against you and your party. You remember the stings of the poison released from the creature, the faintest of scars still on your body from the encounter. You expressed to the children the intensity of the battle and how one unsuspecting amphibian had downed three of your companions and had almost taken yourself in the process. The children gasped and squealed with excitement as you told your story, trying your best to move around and almost animate the fight for them, given the weight of your pregnancy.

As the children murmured amongst themselves about what you had shared of your story so far, your breath hitched. A sharp, unfamiliar sensation shot across your lower abdomen; not exactly painful but surprising enough to catch you off guard. It wasn’t a movement from the child or a rumble from something you had eaten, but something else you couldn’t quite place. You lightly pressed your fingers against the source of the discomfort and adjusted yourself in your seat, hoping the change in position would take away the feeling. The pressure and seating changed helped for a few moments, allowing you to recompose yourself, but when another wave made its way across again, you realized what you were experiencing; a contraction.

“Please, little one,” you whispered, “just wait a little longer. Just a few more days, please, my little love.” Your hand rested along the tender spot of your belly as you pleaded with your child, begging them to wait until Halsin’s return. Another mild contraction rippled across, seemingly lighter this time. You prayed to the Oak Father that this was simply false labor and could still be allotted a few more days to wait for Halsin. He had been gone much longer than the promised ten-day and your faith in him returning in time for the birth was dwindling rapidly.

You also offered a quick, silent prayer to Silvanus that Halsin would return and soon. He needed to be here; he deserved it. Halsin had expressed his excitement about the child to you in the months prior, the smile on his face had never been so big as he spoke of wanting to hold the baby in his arms with you by his side. He had also confided that he never realized just how badly he wanted a child of his own until he had figured out that you were pregnant. Centuries of duty and responsibility had barred him from starting his own little family, and given that he was the only surviving member of his family, he had come to terms with being the last of his line. But now that you were expecting, he was overjoyed with the idea of his very own little one running around.

And this excitement was present in everything he had done in the months since. Halsin put in a labor of love to hand craft a crib from the finest wood of the area, carving and engraving as if it would be his lasting masterpiece to this world. He had whittled toys for the child from similar wood and you always found him carving away when there was downtime and had started nesting almost immediately. There was a newfound youth and spring in his step that had only increased the closer you came to your delivery date. He no longer treated every day as if he was an old man pining for missed opportunities. Now, he was a young man bursting at the seams with anticipation.

Along with this, he made sure that you wanted for nothing, until now at least. Right now, you wanted him home. Halsin deserved the chance to witness the birth of the child and be the first one to hold them in a loving embrace. You knew that was what he wanted as well. You both had been adamant that when the time came for your labor to begin, he would be there by your side to help in any capacity, but also be the one to deliver the child into the world. He was an accomplished healer so anything that could threaten either of your lives could be remedied by him, but also for the simple fact that he wanted to be there for every step.

To see nature in action in welcoming the first bit of new life into this once barren wasteland would be euphoric to him; added satisfaction because it was his child that would break the curse of death in the lands. But, more selfishly, you wanted him home because you were terrified to give birth alone. However, given the circumstances and the new pain shooting across your abdomen, it was becoming more and more likely that your greatest fear would become a reality.

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

With a huff and more effort than you’d like to admit, you seated yourself on one of the old stumps by the market, your basket of collected produce dropping to the ground. Your fingers rubbed against the side of your belly, trying to coax whatever limb was sitting in your ribcage to move to a more comfortable position, your eyes closing at the momentary reprieve. Much to your relief and praise, the pains you had felt the night prior were merely symptoms of false labor and not the actual act, although the discomfort you’d felt since was never ceasing. By this point, your belly had dropped and you had a much harder time moving around, signaling that you were rapidly nearing the end of your pregnancy. And as much as you wanted Halsin home for the birth, you were also ready for the experience to be over. Movement was difficult and mostly unpleasant and you had become reliant on others for usually simple tasks; something you were not overly fond of.

What was supposed to be a quick trip to the market for food ended up taking much longer than expected. Frequent breaks and rests were needed just to get through the sizable market and by the time you had finished, you were exhausted. With the evening sun now low in the sky, you were ready for a warm bath and the comfort of your bed. Reluctantly, you’d decided to skip the communal dinner and story time with the children to simply retire early. Nesting had taken root in the past weeks, urging you to have everything ready and perfect for the arrival of your little one. Now that you were there and satisfied with the state of everything in your home, the only thing you wanted now was to rest and wait. However, the peacefulness of the late afternoon was quickly interrupted by stirring sounds in the distance.

Your eyes shot open and head turned as you heard the increasingly encroaching sounds of commotion coming from the edge of town. You felt fear grip your heart, unsure if the sounds were of the people you now considered your family or an another onslaught of Absolutists assaulting your home. Your eyes darted around, scanning anything and anyone that moved in an attempt to get a feel for the situation. You saw people, children included, rushing towards the entrance to your home, but fear was not an emotion present. The sense of urgency in the crowd wasn’t from the need to escape, but the need to embrace. It wasn’t until you saw familiar faces filtering in past the people of the realm that you realized why there was such a fuss at the gates.

The scouting party had returned.

You felt your heartbeat quicken as you tried to lift yourself from the tree stump, cursing yourself for the amount of time it took recently for you to come to your feet after sitting for too long. You groaned softly when you finally managed to get up, leaving your basket of procured produce at the base of the stump as you made your way towards the gates as quickly as you body would allow. Due to the size of your belly, your speed was anything but swift and your walk was more of a waddle, but nevertheless you hastened your steps the closer you came to the gate. You held your breath, pausing to both rest and scan the crowd for Halsin. Given his height, he would be easy to see standing a head and shoulders taller than anyone else nearby.

Your held breath released when your eyes finally landed on Halsin, who had already been swarmed by every child that now dwelled in these lands. You laughed as he was surrounded by dozens upon dozens of excited children, some going to far as to latch onto his limbs in an attempt to pull him to the ground. Nothing was malicious, of course. You had frequently seen the children swarm Halsin while in bear form and after almost two months of being gone, they had certainly missed their favorite shapeshifting druid. You watched as the elf tried his best to greet each child or give them a pat to their head, but also noticed he kept looking around him, searching for someone particular in the crowd of people beginning to form around the returned scouting party.

“You’re quite popular for someone who came to supper so late.” You teased as you waddled your way to him, weaving through half the children of the realm in the process. Your voice instantly grabbed his attention, his head whipping around to where you stood, the biggest smile you’d seen from him quickly gracing his features as he drank your from in. Halsin attempted to make his way through the onslaught of children, but had to yield until he’d said hello to each and every one. You didn’t mind waiting; just seeing him in front of you after so long was enough to sate your worries. When the final child had departed and scampered off with the rest, Halsin held out his hand to you and pulled you to him, the feeling of your hand in his taking his breath away.

“Look at you,” Halsin said breathily as he cupped your cheeks with his hands, “By Silvanus, you’re more beautiful each time I set my eyes upon you. Are you certain you’re not a deity disguised as a mortal? Sent from the heavens themselves? Kiss me, my heart, and let me know that you are real.” His lips were on yours in an instant and the feel of them sent your mind spinning. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest, excitement, relief, and a dozen other sensations were swirling in your mind as you finally felt the kiss of your lover on you after so long.

You finally pulled from Halsin’s lips when the last bit of remaining air had been sucked from your lungs, leaving them burning, but you gaze never faltered. You felt hot tears begin to prickle the corners of your eyes as your lip quivered, your words sticking in your throat as you voice threatened to crack. Happy tears, of course, but with the amount of hormones swirling through your bloodstream, you soon found yourself sobbing with a wide smile spread across your face.

You forcefully pulled the druid into a hug before he had time to soothe your tears. Your arms firmly wrapped around his neck as you stood on you the tips of your toes to embrace him. His size being one factor that made hugging difficult, but the swell of your pregnant belly almost keeping you at arms length. You felt Halsin’s hand snake along your back as the other wormed its way into your hair; holding the back of your head as he pressed your frame to his as best as possible. His lips made contact with the top of your head and you melted into his embrace.

“Are you all right, my heart?” He asked with a slight chuckle, finding your surge of emotions amusing. You felt his nose nuzzle against the crown of your head, taking in your distinct scent that he had so greatly missed.

“Gods yes,” you said through a few remaining sniffles, “now that you’re back. I was so afraid you wouldn’t come home.”

“I’m here,” he said against your hair as his hand slowly ran along your backside, “I’m here.”

You stood together in each others embrace for a long while, simply enjoying the feel of each other after months apart. Your head settled to his chest, your ear pressed against him so you could hear the steady thumping of his heart beneath you. It was something tangible and real to keep you grounded and reminded you that this was real and not simply a luxurious daydream you were having while napping in the summer sun. Despite the seemingly slim odds and your own reservations, Halsin had proven you wrong and returned home before the birth of your child. And with this, you had never been so happy to be wrong in your life.

“How lucky I am,” Halsin said proudly, “to have the most beautiful creation of nature in my arms again. I’ve longed to set my eyes on you again, my heart.” He took a step back, still clutching your hand in his, and took his time in observing you. You felt a slight flush begin to rush to your cheeks, but quickly pool in your abdomen at his lingering stare. The slightest of smirks settled along his lips as his gaze washed over your heavily extended belly and you felt chill bumps form along your arms and the back of your neck as his fingers grazed over the swell. It wasn’t long before he pulled you to him again, his eyes ever so slightly darker as his eyes settled on the plushness of your lips.

“You must be starving.” You said after you’d heard a rumble from deep within his chest. Although you weren’t entirely sure if he was ravished for a bite to eat or something a bit more pleasurable.

“Famished,” Halsin panted as his lips caught your cheek, “although the only thing I have an appetite for is standing here in front of me.” Halsin’s voice was low as he spoke against your ear, his lips quickly descending upon your neck, leaving wet kisses in his wake. Your skin prickled again at his words, filling you with excitement.

“There are others watching.” You whispered as you glanced around the crowd. You didn’t catch the first glance your way, but you would have preferred more intimate touches to be in the comfort of your home or even in a secluded section of nature.

“I don’t think it’s much of a secret as to what we’ve been up to.” He chuckled as he ran his palm along the expanse of your abdomen and settle along your hips.

“Behave.” You whispered playfully before Halsin’s lips were on yours once again, heated and hungry. Soft growls escaped his lips as he deepened the kiss, lovingly assaulting your lips with tongue and teeth, the intensity behind it mirroring the passion displayed the first night you spent together while on the road to Baldur’s Gate. Your kiss was short lived and broken when the dull ache that had been present in your lower back for the better part of a week flared up again, causing you to grimace and groan as you attempted to stretch out the cramp.

“Are you truly all right?” He asked after you had parted, “Anything I can do, please, tell me.”

“I am,” you said as you stretched your back a final time to alleviate the ache, “just a bit sore is all.”

“Then let’s head for home, my heart.” He said as the grip on your hips tightened ever so slightly, “I do believe I have a remedy for such matters.”

“Are you sure?” you asked as you felt Halsin gently begin to walk to you backwards in the direction of your home, “I’m sure there are others who would wish to welcome you back and there is still supper over the fire. I can’t hog you all to myself, as nice as that sounds.”

“Festivities and greetings can wait.” He said before stealing another kiss from your lips, “There will be plenty of time to enjoy the company of everyone later. But right now the center of my world needs attending to.”

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

“More?” Halsin’s voice was low in your ear and you could feel the smirk on his lips as he kissed along your jawline.

“In a moment, my love,” you said between heavy breaths, “certain activities are a bit more labor intensive for someone with my condition.” Your head rested on his broad chest as you slowly came down from your peak, your body trembling slightly at the exertion you weren’t used to.

You both sat together in your bed, clothes having been discarded the moment you entered the room, with your limbs and bodies tangled together to feel as much of the other against yourselves as you could. Given the size of your belly, you sat beside Halsin, but faced him as best you could. Your legs were draped over his lap, legs intertwined with each other as he held you close to him. His arms were wrapped around you securely, both occupied with separate motions. One of his large arms focused solely on holding you close to him. His hand pressed lightly on your upper back while his fingers toyed with the hair along the nape of your neck, causing chills at the softest of touches.

The other, which had previously been focused on your pleasure, had begun to run along the swell of your hip and down your leg until reaching the knee and returning again. He applied pressure as his fingers slowly traced along your skin, relieving some of the tension your muscles held from carrying the weight of your child. His lips remained at your neck, kissing ever so slowly along the column of your throat and down to your shoulder before returning. His touch was soft and intimate, a contrast to the fast and almost feral movements from earlier, but both were filled with nothing but love and admiration for the moment you could finally share after his long absence.

You bit your lower lip softly to suppress a moan as his fingers found a particularly tight muscle on the underside of your thigh, your sounds causing his fingers to stay and work out the knot. Halsin pulled his lips away from the earlobe he’d been nibbling on and worked his way along your jaw until his lips met yours, kissing them tenderly before coaxing you to part your lips.

“Let me hear you, my heart,” Halsin whispered to you, “I’ve gone far too long without hearing the sound of your voice. I want to hear every melodious whimper and cry that comes from your lips.”

“You’ll hear it in due time, don’t worry about that.” You said as you relaxed more into his embrace, your head resting by his shoulder, “Gods, how I’ve missed you.” Your fingers lightly traced along the muscles of his abdomen, noting that they had become slightly leaner in his time away.

“You won’t have to worry about us parting for long again, my heart. That I can assure you.” His hand made its way to the lower half of your legs, repeating the same motions as before in the expanse that rested between your knee and ankle.

“Mmm good. Tell me everything,” you said as you lightly pecked at his chest with your lips, your fingers still ghosting across his abdomen, “the children aren’t the only ones who have missed your stories.”

In the excitement of his return and the time taken to make up for lost kisses and sensual embraces, you hadn’t had the chance to ask what had taken the trip much longer than expected. And as much as you’d rather sit and continue becoming reacquainted with each other, the survivor in you wanted to ensure that everything was indeed safe. You knew Halsin wouldn’t have returned if a threat still remained, but you wanted to hear it from his lips; you wanted the confirmation. Curiosity was also getting the better of you when trying to determine how Halsin felt about the trip. As you knew, Halsin was partial to roaming instead of staying in one area for too long. Of course he’d stayed in the Grove for well over a century, but it was out of duty and he admitted himself that he left as often as he could to explore the expanse of nature.

Since the fall of the Absolute and the settlement of the realm you now called home, neither of you had been away for a single day; the one exception being the small reunion with your companions that had been organized by Withers not too long ago. So, now that Halsin had the chance to be on the road again and step away from the duties of your home, you were wondering if he maybe would like to indulge in more travels once your little one was born. You weren’t opposed to the idea of traveling again, but admittedly you had grown rather fond of your little settlement and traveling with a newborn was less than ideal.

“We found the camp of goblins the scouts had discovered before we left,” Halsin’s voice snapped you from your thoughts, “it was small, not well defended, easily taken care of. If that had been the only problem I could have turned to you in less than a week.” With your head still resting on his chest, you turned to catch his glance, the story piquing your interest.

“I take it you found more.” You said softly, your question being answered simply by the look of exhaustion hiding behind his eyes.

“Dozens of other encampments spanning far across the area,” he pulled his hand from your leg to wave it in the air as he spoke, “they varied in size, but none were too large. Never had any serious injuries, Oak Father be praised. Well, no serious injuries for us; I can’t say the same about any cultists we found.” He chuckled softly with his statement, his hand returning to caress your legs still seated in his lap.

“I wanted to return,” he continued, “more than anything, but it was too large a threat. Of course they didn’t pose the threat that the Absolute did, but they still held the viciousness that the infected once had. There was always the possibility that more would return to us, like the ones that made the foolhardy attempt and lost their lives because of it. Or these fanatics could threaten other people, other communities even. They may have been small in number, but left unchecked it could have easily grown.”

“You did the right thing, love.” You murmured before reaching up to place a soft kiss to his cheek. You could sense the guilt weighing on him, the look on his face giving it away. As much as you selfishly would have wanted him to stay home with you, you knew in your gut that by sacrificing a few months apart would be worth the cost if it meant protecting your home and those around it.

“I know, and I don’t regret it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel some sense of guilt in leaving you.” You felt him you pull you closer as if you could slip away if he didn’t keep a firm grip to your frame.

“I’ll have you know that I defeated an entire Netherbrain not that long ago. I think I’m capable of taking care of myself.” You teased as you wrapped your arms around Halsin’s neck, your hands finding purchase in his hair.

“Oh I know you are, my heart, but you also weren’t close to delivering a child when you did so.” You felt his touch softly travel along your stomach, almost tickling with the faintness of his touch, “I kept track of the days as best I could. A few days got lost with travel, but I was able to keep track of them well. I grew more anxious the longer we stayed. I had practically convinced myself that by the time I returned you would have already given birth. I’ve never been more thankful to Silvanus than I was when I saw that you hadn’t.”

“Admittedly, there were a few close calls.” Your voice was quiet, “I was sure that just last night would be the time.” Halsin caught your gaze, the idea of him missing the birth by a few hours had briefly shaken him, but quickly dissipated as he spoke again.

“Although the cultists aren’t the only reason you don’t have to fret about me departing.” Your brows came together when you realized what he meant, the idea novel to your perception of him.

“You didn’t enjoy your journey otherwise? I would have thought you would enjoy seeing nature outside of our little realm.” You said with a slight tilt to your head.

“Oh I did, and I always will, of course, but the journey was abysmal. I found myself longing for this place we call home the moment I stepped foot out of the realm. My heart ached to return here; to return to you. You were my first waking thought every morning and the last image my mind would settle on before resting for the evening. I may have been away from you, but in my dreams we were here together, with our little one, truly living.” Halsin’s forehead quickly came into contact with yours and you quickly felt him nuzzle into your touch. You both closed your eyes, simply enjoying the touch of the other.

“I thought roaming was…in your nature?” You said with a wave of your hands, struggling to remember just how he had phrased it to you long ago.

“It is,” he said with a chuckle at your attempts to use his own words against him, “but lately I’ve craved it less and less. Roam our lands, yes, but to venture much farther out of it, not so much. It’s still there, buried deep, but I would much rather stay here. Stay with the life we’ve built, with the people we’ve bonded with and the children of course, but I want to be here by your side.”

“Why the change?” You were surprised by his answer. For as long as you’d known the druid, you knew he was always partial to roaming. Staying in one place for very long was out of the ordinary for him. You’d always considered him to be restless, but now you were beginning to think there was more to the behavior.

“Straying showed me just how deep my roots have settled. I’ve never really had them take hold like this, but it’s a welcomed thought. Emerald Grove was my place of dwelling for a long while, but it never truly felt like home. There was always the looming weight of responsibility and leadership. I’d never truly felt wanted or like I belonged. I don’t feel that here, however. Here, I feel like I am where I’m meant to be.”

With a gentle tug, Halsin urged you to change your seating. You untangled your legs from his and let him move you to where he wanted you. You found yourself now fully seated in his lap, legs straddling the expanse of his hips as your belly pressed against the muscles of his abdomen. He gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, allowing himself a clear view of your face. You knew him well enough by now to know when he was on the verge of something deeply sentimental and even vulnerable; always wanting to look you intimately in the eyes as he laid his heart bare for you. He gripped your chin lightly with his thumb and forefinger, bringing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss before speaking.

“I was lost before you came bounding into my life.” Halsin said softly, “Lost, miserable, lonely. The burdens of the everything had gotten to me, started eating away at my spirit. I had resigned myself to my fate while in the goblin camp. I was certain I would die there, although it wouldn’t be without a fight. I knew no one was coming for me. No one from the grove would dare step foot in that encampment. But then here you come. Without a sliver of doubt in your voice you defended a lone, blood thirsty bear in a cage. You cut down the goblins and their leaders and granted me my freedom.”

“You defended the grove I called home, despite the politics festering in its heart having nothing to do with you. You didn’t have to protect the tieflings or show the corruption of Kagha, but you did. From the goodness of your heart you did what was right.” Halsin pressed a finger to the center of your chest, tapping your skin lightly as he continued.

“Not only that, but by letting me journey with you from that moment on you saved me from a fruitless leadership what was eating away at my soul. I’ve said this before, but I was losing myself. Forgetting who I was or why I fought for the things I did. But you lifted the veil from my eyes and showed me compassion. Kindness. Understanding. You never questioned my beliefs or personal politics. And you never have. You’ve been nothing but accepting and open minded. Especially after the mishap with the beast.” The ghost of embarrassment quickly crossed his features and you soothed the feelings away with the touch of your hand.

You smiled at the thought, your mind instantly going back to the first night you shared together. In the heat of the moment, Halsin had lost control of the bear inside him, wild shaping at an inopportune time. You recalled the moment that immediately followed once he had shifted back, your mind focusing on the embarrassment and shame that had come over him for losing control. He had apologized profusely and had fully expected you to turn him away or even be angry with him. But you understood that he meant no harm in the act; it was purely accidental. If anything, you felt more flattered that he had gotten worked up enough simply by looking at your naked form that he temporarily lost control of himself. You had reassured him that everything was all right in that moment. Your mind then shifted to the look of happiness and relief that had come across him when you did so; a look very similar to the one he was giving you now.

“You were willing to sacrifice yourself countless times to save Thaniel and lift the curse that once plagued these lands. You went out of your way to help me do something I was unable to do in a century. You saved these lands, my heart. You brought the light back to this place we now come home. Then at the end of it all, you turned down a life of fame and glory and chose me. Of all the people who are in your life, you chose me. That is still baffling, but I bask in your choice every day. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t thank the Oak Father for sending you to me. You are a gift. You are a blessing.” Halsin kissed you again, still lovingly running his hands along your body.

Gods, how you loved this man. And his love for you was ever present and seemed to grow with each passing day. You were rendered speechless, unsure how to respond at such a confession. Your lips continued to meet, slow and deep, as you whispered your feelings of love between each touch of the lips. Eventually, you came to a stop and Halsin spoke again.

“I was terrified that we wouldn’t return in time,” Halsin said after a period of silence, his voice soft and gentle, “That I wouldn’t return to you in time when you needed me most. After everything you have done for me since I’ve know you, I was so afraid that I would fail you when you needed me.”

“So was I,” you admitted as you took his hand in yours and placed it atop your belly, “but don’t dwell on it anymore, my love. You’re home and safe. And any day now we can welcome this darling little one into this world we’ve created. Together.”

“I’m sorry, my heart.” Halsin pressed his lips to the crown of your belly as if seeking forgiveness.

“Don’t apologize,” you said as you pulled his head from your abdomen and softly stroked his cheek with the back of your hand, “You did what was necessary. You kept our home safe; I should be thanking you instead of you apologizing to me. But we can discuss niceties later. After all, we have plenty of other things we could be doing now that we’re together again.”

“Tell me.” He said simply. You felt his hand knead along the soft expanse of your hips, increasing in intensity the more you lingered with your response.

“For starters, we have a chance to steal a few more moments like this for ourselves,” you said softly while slowly dragging the tip of your finger along his ear, “we have a lot to catch up on.” You felt Halsin’s skin prickle along his neck at your ministrations, the sensitivity of his ears always being a weak spot, and you heard a low growl come from deep within his chest and caught the faintest glow of gold sparkle in his eyes.

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

“Easy now, love,” Halsin said in an attempt to calm your nerves, “you’ve got this. Focus on me, all right?” You tried to make sense of what he was telling you, but you could only focus on the pain tearing through your body. Your grip on his hands threatened to break his bones, but he held on firmly without wavering. He was knelt in front of you, his hands grasped firmly in yours as you reclined as best you could in your pile of pillows and blankets, gritting through your teeth as you endured another contraction. You had been laboring for hours, enduring steadily increasing contractions and labor pains with no actual progress being made. You were exhausted and weak; walking the fine line between enduring and giving up.

Sweat poured from your brow and ran down your temples and neck, settling on your heaving chest. It burned against the heat of your skin, adding yet another layer of discomfort to your current state of being. The night was unusually warm, the slight breeze occasionally blowing through the open window provided no relief; just another wave of warm air against your body. The faintest dribble of tears fell from your clenched eyes, mingling with the sweat covering your face.

When your current wave of pain subsided, you released your grip on Halsin’s hands and flopped back onto your mound of pillows, an exasperated sigh coming from your lips. Your limbs were shaking from exertion and pain and your mind was foggy. Taking the opportunity to tend to you during a brief period of reprieve, Halsin dipped a cloth in a bowl of cool water, wringing it out before wiping it across your brow gently. Your forehead, upper lip, neck, chest, or anything that was saturated with sweat and tears were cleaned gently, the coolness of cloth providing a few seconds of relief.

“Almost two days of this and nothing to show.” You said between pants, your eyes transfixed on the ceiling as you tried to regain some control of your breathing, “This is more difficult than that damned frog.”

“You’ll have to elaborate, my love.” Halsin said as his head raised to meet you, finding your thoughts to be a bit questionable, given the circumstances. Your mind had suddenly focused to the story you told the children only a few days ago; the one that detailed the perilous battle between yourself and the swamp frog. You focused on how you felt after the battle and how difficult it had been, being unsure if you would see it to the end. You had questioned if you would live to see another day after watching your companions fall one by one to something that seemed so simple.

Instead of being comforted by the knowledge of knowing you had survived a difficult battle, you couldn’t help but focus on the feeling of hopelessness and defeat that came with both the frog and the current status of your labor. Child birth had seemed so simple when you first discovered you were with child; too overwhelmed by the thoughts of being able to hold your little one in your arms and being impatient to do so. But now you felt the weight of your labor settle upon you and the doubts it caused in your mind. Much like your experience with the frog, you truly weren’t sure if you or your child would see things through to the end. After all, the frog ultimately died by your hand. You were tired. So, so tired. Hours had come and gone and nothing had changed. Instead, you were dancing precariously close to the edge of not having the strength to continue.

“I’ll tell you the story later.” You said after a period of silence. “I don’t know if I can…” Your voice tapered off, beginning to crack as tears threatened to fall from your eyes again.

“You can, my heart.” Halsin said firmly, “You’re stronger than you think. The savior of Baldur’s Gate didn’t fall to the might of a netherbrain and will not fall to this.” Despite the firmness in his voice, you could sense his own fears. As experienced as he was in healing, he knew that you were not faring well. Your child should have long been delivered by now and the complications you were facing were greater than either of you had anticipated. You could see the slight tremble to his usually sturdy hands whenever he brought the cool cloth to your head or to brush a sweat slicked lock of hair from your cheeks. There was genuine fear behind his eyes; a fear for you as well as your unborn little one that was refusing to come into the world.

“And if I can’t? What then?” You asked as your eyes left their spot on the ceiling and looked to the druid. His answer was cut short as another shooting pain coursed through you, causing a pained yell to escape your lips as your tears finally fell from your eyes. Halsin’s hands found yours once again as you writhed through your pain. He clung to you tightly, desperate to anchor you back to reality. The overwhelming urge to push surged through you once again and you complied, mustering all of your strength in an effort to finally make the child begin to crest. Your eyes clenched shut as a ragged cry spilled from your throat, your nails digging into Halsin’s hands hard enough to break skin.

“We can focus on that when the times comes, if it does, my heart. But for now, do not let your mind linger on the darkness. You can do this. I will be here with you for every second, love. Let that ease your mind.” Halsin said softly after you had relaxed again, hands still shaking within his own. As Halsin released your grip and returned to his previous seat in front of you, his hands lightly squeezing along your calves and up your thighs, coaxing your body to relax when it could.

“Relax yourself when things are calm,” he continued as he kept massaging your taught muscles, “it’ll help save your strength.” You nodded in response, inhaling deeply before slowly releasing the breath along with the grip you had on the lower half of your body.

“Stubborn little cub, aren’t they?” You huffed with a quick laugh, running your fingers through your sweat soaked hair.

“Already taking after you, I see.” Halsin teased as he dipped a cloth in the cool water again and you knocked him playfully with your knee at the comment. He left his place between your parted legs and joined you by your side, lightly dabbing the cloth across your flushed skin again. You leaned into his touch, taking a moment to breathe deeply and exhale slowly again as you relished the moment of reprieve from the labor pains.

“You’ve assisted births before, haven’t you?” You asked after a moment, your breath still shaky and uneven.

“Plenty,” he said calmly as he continued to wipe your skin of sweat, “I witnessed the birth of nearly half the children of Emerald Grove. Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious,” you said as you felt the beginning twinges of another wave of contractions begin to cluster on one side, “as to how I’m doing in comparison to those you’ve seen.

“Don’t compare yourself to others, my heart. All birthing stories will be different and there’s no point in comparing. You’re doing well for now. There have been smoother births, I will admit, but I’ve also seen much worse. Focus on the now and don’t bother with the past.” Halsin pressed his lips to your temple, lingering momentarily until he felt you tense once again.

The contractions were stronger and more frequent now, seemingly coming every minute. Each minute that passed and each pain-filled wave that coursed through your body made you weaker. You were exhausted. With Halsin still by your side, you desperately gripped his arm for something to brace with. Your fingers dug into his skin, surely to bruise by the following morning, but you would take time to apologize later. Right now, your head was pounding and your vision blurred from agony as your body writhed in its place. You felt the air almost sucked out of your lungs at a new sensation. Not necessarily pain, although it wasn’t the most comfortable of feelings, but an unmoving weight you now felt in your groin.

“Please tell me something happened,” you groaned as a new and intense pressure sat on the lowest part of your abdomen, “this feels different.” Your voice shook as did your hands, your breath coming in quick, short pants. Halsin left your side after prying your fingers from his arm, gently placing your own appendage beside you as he once again came to the foot of the bed. He settled between your legs, parting your trembling legs slightly so he could get a better look at the state of your birth. You watched him intensely, hoping to see any sign of change on his features. You were rewarded with a look of surprise as his eyes widened ever so slightly and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Focus, my heart,” he said quickly, “you’re almost there.” Halsin blindly fumbled his hand along the bed, his fingers desperate to grab a clean towel or blanket, his eyes never leaving your body in the process. The sudden lack of dexterity from him betrayed his feelings. His exterior was his usual calm self, soothing voice and all, but the frantic movements and the slight tremble to his hands indicated either excitement or fear for what was happening. Although you couldn’t be sure as to which.

“A good change, then?” You asked cautiously, almost afraid to hear his answer.

“Oh yes, very good indeed. For now, just focus on what your body tells you. A few more pushes and you’ll be done.” He offered you one hand to hold onto, the other needed for assistance below your waist. You gripped the offered hand as firmly as your weakened body would allow, holding on until you felt another wave of pain wash through you. With gritted teeth and clenched eyes, you felt your body contract and restrict, desperately trying to push your child from your body. You felt another shift in the new pressure, still present, but not as heavy. In your pain driven haze, you weren’t quite sure what you were feeling, but it felt like the progress you’d been hoping to see for nearly a day.

You loosened your hand around his as your body slumped back into the pillows behind you, your breath even more ragged and exhausted. Sweat poured down your face and body, mixing with a fresh set of tears as you skin flushed from exertion. You needed to rest. To gather your strength for the last leg of your labor, but your body wouldn’t allow it. Almost immediately you felt the rising waters of pain sweeping across your stomach, your head shaking as you begged and pleaded with Halsin for relief. Unfortunately, any sort of assisted magic or pain relief would have to wait until after the birth, the impacts of such treatments on a baby being detrimental, so you had been forced to endure two days of pain in waiting for the arrival of your child.

“Look at me, love.” His grip on your hand tightening to grab your attention, “You need just one more. One big push and I can get you something to ease the pain. Can you do that for me?” Your tired eyes met his, your lids half closed and filled with tears. Reluctantly, you nodded.

With a deep breath and adjusting your hand within Halsin’s, you pushed once again, giving every bit of remain strength into the movement. Your other hand reached up to claw into Halsin’s forearm, your body almost lifting from the bed at the force behind your movements. As your legs and body began to tremble, you felt another change. A welcomed relief from the hours of agony you’d faced recently. The pressure was gone, the cramping had subsided, and you were utterly spent. You released yourself from his arm as you once again fell back into your pillows, your legs going slack from their bent position.

“No more,” you sobbed, “I can’t do anymore.” Your chest heaved with your cries, tears now streaming freely from your eyes as you continued to beg your lover. You were met with silence, something that made your nerves tighten.

“Halsin.” His name softly fell from your lips as you searched for reassurance, “Halsin, I can’t-” Your statements was cut short, but not with the response you expected. Instead of the deep, booming voice of your lover, you were instead met with a tiny, unfamiliar cry. Your head craned upwards to find the source of the cry, only to fall back as Halsin’s frame suddenly came over you. You watched in disbelief as he quickly opened the laces to your tunic, pulling them back to expose your chest to the warm air. Before you could utter another word, the druid placed a small, crying baby against your chest. Your baby.

“Well done, my heart.” He beamed as he covered the still wet and connected child with a warm blanket, “You’ve done so well, but let me take over for now.” He took your hand in his and placed it along the back of your child, sensing the slight shock you were still in before quickly leaving you with your baby to attend to your wounds.

“By the gods.” You whispered as your senses finally returned to you. Parental nature quickly snapping into place as you bundled the child in the blanket even more, covering their exposed head and tucking their arms under the warmth. You soothed them softly as they continued to cry, happiness coursing through you as they continued to take deep lungfuls of air. With the edge of the blanket, you gently cleaned their face of afterbirth, gently shushing with each stroke. Tears streamed down your face, but the meaning behind them had changed. What were tears of agony and bargaining had turned to tears of unconfined happiness.

Despite the pain and agony you’d endured for days, you felt almost none of it as you cradled your child in your arms. The feeling of holding this small, tiny newborn against you had made the labor worth it. You were overjoyed, if not still in shock, as you softly pressed your lips to the forehead of your still crying baby. A feeling of unimaginable love washed over you, soothing your aches and pains and replaced those feelings with bliss.

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When the excitement from the birth had calmed and you had gotten settled in your bed, you finally felt the exhaustion from the previous days settle in your bones. Despite the immediate healing potions you’d consumed and spells that had been conjured offered you temporary relief and mending, your body would still need time to heal and adjust; magic could only do so much. Although that was admittedly a thought you’d pushed to the back of your mind for now as your mind was consumed by nothing but the small bundle nestled closely to your chest.

You yawned deeply, trying your best to stay awake to take in every sweet moment you could with your newly delivered little one. They were pressed against you, taking their first feeding from you since the delivery, as you observed every little detail they offered. Admittedly, you were surprised with just how small they were, considering the sheer looming size Halsin presented and just how hard you had labored, you’d anticipated a rather large baby. Instead, your child was remarkably tiny, but perfectly healthy. The labor had been agonizing and painful, but you found that the reward that came from your efforts was far greater than any amount of discomfort or pain you had tolerated. In this moment, everything was perfect and you wanted nothing more than to spend eternity cradling your child.

“Hello there, little one.” You whispered as their eyes opened briefly, placing a soft kiss to the forehead. A beautiful mixture of green and gold swirled in their eyes, a coloring that was distinctly Halsin’s, and were framed by unusually long lashes. For a moment, you felt as if you were gazing into his own, a pleasant warmth spreading across your chest. You gently ran your finger along the short distance from their forehead to the tip of their nose, marveling at just how soft their skin was, before brushing a few strands of hair to the side. Tiny ears came to the most perfect of points and twitched slightly at the warm breeze lazily coming through the window.

Once they had their fill, you gently wiped their mouth with the edge of the blanket before settling them back high on your chest and surrounding them in warmth. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes as you heard the tiny grunts and mewls coming from your newborn, already finding it to be your favorite sound in the world. You felt their small hand grasp at your skin and you quickly offered a finger to the baby, smiling when you saw the tiny fingers barely wrap around your slender digit. You adored the tiny fingers in your grasp, softly placing another kiss to them before returning them under the blanket. Euphoria and bliss were the only words you could use to describe how you felt, but they paled in comparison to the true feelings swirling in your chest.

Halsin’s fingers gently lifting your chin broke you from your trance-like staring, bringing you back to the present. You offered him a tired smile as you met his gaze, longing for him to join the two of you for a long rest. Moments after you had given birth and had a crying newborn pressed against your chest, Halsin made healing you a priority. The anguish that had firmly gripped his heart as he could do nothing but watch as you struggled with the birth set the healer in him ablaze. He couldn’t help you in the moment, but he would go to the ends of Faerún to help you now.

Healing incantations and prayers spilled from his lips as soon as possible, desperately trying to alleviate your pain and close your wounds. His hands were steady once again as he hovered them over your spent body, swirling tendrils of blue and gold washing over you and filling you with a soothing warmth. He wasted no time in pressing the mouth of a healing potion bottle to your lips, slowly tipping the contents into your mouth as you started to shake the cloudiness from your mind. He praised you with every sentence that left his lips, not only telling you how well you had done and how strong you were, but also thanking you for everything you had done for him and your newly born baby.

Once the color had returned to your face and the dark circles from around your eyes had finally subsided, you heard him breath a sigh of relief before continuing on. He quickly turned to cleaning both you and the baby as best as he could for the time being, delicately running a cloth of warm water across the child’s skin and hair until they were clean before wrapping them in a blanket that had been warmed by a fire. Before you could preotest to his doting, he did the same to you. Gently cleaning the sweat from your face and chest as well as any birthing mess from the rest of you, still praising your efforts with each swipe of the cloth.

When he had expended as many spells as he could and was certain you were leagues away from danger and comfortable in your bed, he had offered you a slow kiss to your forehead as he left briefly to brew a tea for you; something to ease any aches as well as provide some nourishment to your tired body until he could put a soup over the fire. And now he had returned, a steaming cup of a sweet smelling tea in his grasp and a contented smile on his lips.

“Join me,” you said softly as he placed the cup on the bedside table, “come say hello.” Without needing further encouragement, the druid climbed in on your opposite side, trying to be as gentle as possible to avoid waking the baby as well as avoid jostling your still sore body more than what was necessary.

“You should rest, my heart.” Halsin murmured in your ear, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as his fingers lazily scratched at your scalp, offering the lightest of kisses to your temple, “And the tea should help. I hope it does.” You nodded in agreement, the idea of a long rest sounded heavenly.

“I do believe it’s your turn for a cuddle, my love,” you said after Halsin had finally settled, “a little bit of bonding while things are still calm.” You adjusted your position, sitting up slowly to avoid agitating your freshly made wounds.

“I’m almost afraid to,” he confessed, “I wasn’t expecting such a tiny little cub.” You chuckled at the comment, taking note that Halsin’s hands were almost large enough to engulf the child, but knew that his hands were the safest place they could be.

“Neither was I,” you admitted as you gently supported the baby’s head with your hand, “but you know I trust you.” You slowly pulled the child from your chest, leaning forward a bit to help with the process, so you could easily pass the baby to your lover.

With a delicate touch, Halsin took the sleeping child from your grasp as if he was holding the most fragile of flowers, and gently eased them towards him. He stopped briefly before placing the child on his chest, taking a moment to admire their features and softly kiss their plump cheek. Halsin had been the first one to touch the infant at delivery and had helped you with cleaning them, but this was the first moment where he could take his time and cradle the baby to his frame, bare skin to bare skin. Your child gave the tiniest of whimpers at the movement, but quickly quieted down again once Halsin pressed their chest to his.

“You look content, my love.” You said as you took your tea from the table, sipping slowly to avoid burning your mouth before returning it to the table. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the look of absolute joy and bliss spread across Halsin’s face, your own heart melting at the sight. His eyes had grown soft and ever so slightly wet, the lightest traces of tears forming on his waterline. Once the child had adjusted to the new position, Halsin rested his back along the headboard and allowed his body to relax. With one hand still on the child, he wrapped his other arm around you again, pulling you close to this warm frame and coaxed your heavy head to rest on his chest. You gently touched the tip of your finger to the tiny nose in front of you before pulling a blanket snugly around your shoulders.

“Words cannot describe how I feel,” he said softly, “but, nevertheless, I will try.” You felt his nose nuzzle against the crown of your head, delivering a series of soft kisses into your hair as he pulled you closer to him.

“In the grand scheme of things, I’ve only know you but for a flicker of time, but in that time you have gifted me so many new and wonderful things. You alone have turned my life so much towards the better I couldn’t have ever imagined being here not all that long ago.” His voice was soft as he spoke, his lips still resting along your head.

“On top of everything you’ve done to get us to this moment and the life we live now, you have given us both the gift of this beautiful child here with us now. You brought the first new life into these lands in over a century. And knowing that you chose to bring that life to this world with me by your side? That’s a feeling I can’t describe. Selflessly, you have given me everything and yet I feel as if I haven’t even begun to return the favor. I am eternally indebted to you, my heart.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Halsin. I did everything because I wanted to and out of love. You have given me the gift of happiness and a life worth living. You have no debt, my love.” You said softly as you looked to him, he gaze soft and full of emotion.

“Oh, but I do. You have given me the world and I can only hope I can do the same for you tenfold. You truly do not understand how much of a gift you are, my heart. I don’t know what I’ve done in my life to warrant Silvanus blessing me with you.” His lips were against yours in an instance, but instead of being fueled by lust and longing, they were driven purely by love, adorations, and genuine thankfulness. From his kiss alone, you could feel the love he had for you roaring deep in his chest and it was mirrored by your own.

“You praise me too much, my love.” You said when you parted from his lips, your heart fluttering and your cheeks burning at his words of praise.

“Far from it.” He whispered against your mouth before giving you another gentle kiss.

Halsin pressed his forehead to yours as he lightly tugged you closer, nuzzling against you with a contented sigh. Your eyes closed at his touch, finally allowing yourself a moment of rest while buried in the embrace of your lover. In that moment, you wanted for nothing. Halsin was not only home and safe, but any threat posed by rogue cultists had been eradicated and the place you called home truly was safe. Your prayers had been answered and Halsin had returned in one piece, but returned in time to witness and deliver the child you shared. And here you both sat, wrapped in each other embrace and cradling the small infant you both had so eagerly been waiting to meet. Your heart and mind were practically floating on clouds and nothing you’d ever experienced in life could surpass this moment as you rested your head against Halsin’s chest once again. With a final kiss to your temple and another mewl from the baby, you allowed yourself to drift off to a peaceful sleep, listening to the strong, steady heartbeat of your beloved druid.

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