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unwantedtomost · 3 years

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it had been months — sebastian stan

sebastian stan x fem!reader

word count: 4,401 words

summery: it had been nine months since you and your first real long term boyfriend broke up. but as they say, time makes the heart grow fonder ... and it also made the lust build up.

warnings: angst, smut, thigh riding, cheating, kind of a breeding kink at the end, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

a/n: i have never actually posted a whole thing on here before, so i hope this goes well. i know my writing can improve, but it’s pretty good i would say. enjoy!

It had been months since you had broken up with your long-term boyfriend. Your first long-term boyfriend you had since you arrived to the Hollywood scene. Nine months, to be exact. The same amount of time it would have been to carry a child. A hypothetical child. The same hypothetical child that ruined your relationship in the first place.

“You don’t want kids?” Sebastian questioned as soon as you entered the shared apartment. The topic of children came up at dinner with your shared friends. You, offhandedly said: “God, no,” with a laugh, not giving it a second thought. Not till now.

“Not really,” you said as you unzipped your heeled boots. “I never really have, not since I was younger.”

“Never?” He asked, heart starting to beat heavier.

You looked up to him, concerned when you saw his face. It was the same face he had on every time you guys got in a face, mixed with disappointment, maybe even hurt. You smiled, trying to lighten the situation.

“Maybe not never,” you said, putting your shoes away. “But not at least for ten years, maybe even longer. I mean, I am only twenty-two. I would like a good life without children before bringing them into the mix.”

Your warm smile and calm demeanor did nothing to elevate the tension, something inside you saying it did the exact opposite. He looked serious and upset, a combination you never saw much.

“In ten years I’ll be almost fifty,” Sebastian states.

“So? Guys never really stop shooting out good rounds. All my parts will still be intact by that time too.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is it?” You were confused. Why was he acting like this?

“I shouldn’t be old enough to be the kid’s grandfather.”

Anger started to bubble up as well. This tone that he had made you pissed off. He was talking like you were stupid like you didn’t get what he was saying. The brassiness you had in general not helping your temper.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you started dating someone sixteen years younger than you,” you shot back.

Then the yelling started. Something that could have been a deep, meaningful conversation (one that frankly should have been had way before this point) turned into a full-blown fight. You both started going in at each other, picking at old scabs that you knew would hurt. That was the point, after all, you just wanted to hurt each other. Because you were mad and upset, you guessed, but by the end of it, you weren’t even sure.

The fighting ended two hours later, you sat, slumped on the couch, huffing. You tried to catch your breath from all the yelling. Your throat was hoarse, your cheeks sticky from dried tears.

“It seems like we’re not gonna work out then,” you said, numb.

“Seems so.”

And you left that night, grabbing nothing but your phone before making your way to your closest friend’s house.

After that, you cried for two months straight. You really thought that Sebastian was endgame. That you would be together forever. That you would be happy. Ever since you caught sight of him at your first audition, you felt that he was the one. Then the universe laughed maniacally as it showed you just how fucking wrong you were.

In the past nine months, you had seen him approximately sixteen times, most being in passing, a few being at parties, and one time being at a coffee shop that you both loved. You started to frequent it less after the breakup, too scared to bump into him. Little did you know, he was doing the same thing. The day you two saw each other was both of your first times in three months.

It was all stupid small talk until it wavered, forced laughs and fake smiles fading as the reality of the situation simmered in.

“Look, y/n—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted. You knew what he was going to say, and you didn’t want to hear it. You simply couldn’t. “It was nice seeing you again, Sebastian. I hope you have a good life.” You took a few steps before turning back around for a moment. He looked at you like he was expecting you to run into his arms and make everything go back to normal. “And I really hope you meet a girl that can give you what you need.”

He tried to reach out to you, but you wouldn’t let him. You simply walked away and left him, alone. That was the last time you had spoken to him.

It was five months after the breakup until you let your friends talk you into going out again. And that night you had run into none other than the Timothee Chalamet. Numbers were exchanged then the next thing you knew, you were naked in his hotel room. After that, you went through a bit of a “hoe stage.” Every two weeks you were on a cover of TMZ, E!, or any other celebrity gossip magazine that existed with a “possible new thing.” The people ranged from Tom Holland to Madison Beer, and no one knew what was true or not. After the first few batches came out, you stopped giving a shit. You were allowed to rebound with whomever or however you wanted to, and you were taking full advantage of that.

You were so busy juggling so many people that you hadn’t even thought about Sebastian. Not till right now. Your eyes catch his from across the ballroom that you’re currently in. Your pulse quickens rapidly, you feel like you might even faint. If it wasn’t for Timothee’s hand on your waist, you were sure you would have collapsed on the spot. You watched as Sebastian’s jaw clenched just like it did whenever you did something he disapproved of. Just like it did every time he gave into himself and read one of those stupid gossip sights and saw you all over whatever arm candy you had chosen for the week.

“I’ll be right back, okay babe?” Timothee said, kissing you on the cheek. He waited for you to nod before making his way to one of his friends.

You don’t know what to do and those beautiful blue eyes you fell in love with all that time ago refuse to leave yours. You feel like you want to cry, or scream, or throw up, but you know that you shouldn’t actually do any of those things. You’d draw attention and you don’t want any more people talking about you.

Luckily, one of your best friends, Elizabeth, pulls you into a tight hug and brings you back to earth. Her body feels warm and it makes you feel safe, the smell of her strawberry shampoo bringing you comfort.

“I know,” she said before you spoke. “I saw. Are you okay? I’ll leave with you right now if you want to.”

It takes you a minute to process everything, and even though you’re running everything through your mind, nothing really sinks in.

“I’ll be fine,” you say with conviction, though you don’t know if it’s true at all. “Leaving wouldn’t accomplish anything.” You stop talking for a minute before smiling at Elizabeth. “Now, let’s go give the people what they want and take some pictures together.”

It had been two hours and the event was finally coming to a close. No more than forty-five minutes and the place would be cleared out. With that knowledge, you went to go take advantage of the free bar stocked up with expensive liquor. After schmoozing with people you did not even want to interact with, you deserve it.

“Two shots of tequila and a rum and coke, please,” you say to the rather cute bartender, shoulders slumping.

As soon as the two shot glasses were in front of you, you downed them. It burned like hell and you could only imagine the ungodly face you made. You tried to chase it with the rum and coke, but it didn’t help much. You heard a gruff voice beside you order something, one that was very familiar. When you heard a chuckle, you knew for sure who was right next to you. You froze again, that same dizzy, sick feeling coming back. You turned your head slowly to see those big blue eyes for the second time tonight, your heart surely beating loud enough that anyone in a mile radius could hear it.

“You look beautiful tonight, y/n,” Sebastian said, leaning against the bar, facing you.

“You do too,” you blurt out. Face turning red after you realized that you’re fucking stupid. “I mean, you look—shit. You look very nice, Seb—Sebastian.”

You’re so flustered and red, you want to simply sink into the floor. For a moment, you wonder why he isn’t acting the same way. It could be that he had already had some to drink or maybe he was just better at controlling his emotion. And the thought that makes dread flow through you is that maybe he is just over you.

“Are you going to an after-party?” He asks, sipping from his glass.

“I don’t think so,” you say. You were supposed to go to one with Timothee, where you were finally going to announce that you two had become official, but now you just want to go home. “Are you?”

“Probably not,” he said simply. “I’ll just have a few more of these back home and go to bed.”

“Drinking alone is no fun,” you say, hinting. You know what you are trying to get across but you don’t know why. It’s like your mouth was moving before your brain could understand what you were doing.

“It’s not ideal,” he said. “But I really don’t have a date to drink with, unlike you.” He pointed towards Timothee talking to a director you hastily met.

“He’s not my date,” you shot out. “I mean, he is, but we’re not like, dating.” Why the fuck are you talking!?!?

“It’s none of my business,” Sebastian said. He didn’t sound mean, he sounded like he was trying to comfort you.

“I know … but we’re not … if you were wondering.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on your elbow. “It was nice to see you again, y/n.”

He turned to start walking away but you called after him, making him turn back around. “Wait!” Once he was facing you, you felt like you were in a movie. “I could go for a drink.”

Sebastian smiled but his eyes dismissed you. “What are you doing, sugar?” He warned.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “But don’t shut me down.”

With a shared smile, he took your hand and you both left the party. On the car ride back to his apartment (that used to be your apartment), you thought briefly about how you would explain this to Timothee in the morning. Then you turned off your phone so you didn’t have to feel guilty if he decided to text you. Neither of you spoke much on the way. His hand never left its place on your thigh before you were finally there.

When he opened the door, you stumbled lightly into the apartment. Sebastian caught you by wrapping his arm around your waist. He lightly sat you down on the chair by the entrance (the same one you had sat at nine months ago). Once he had closed the door and put his things down, he came back to you to help slip off your heels.

“Are you already drunk?” He chuckled.

“No, just a wee bit tipsy.”

“Your ‘wee bit’ is usually a lotta bit.”

“Not this time, I really mean just a wee wee bit.” You suddenly burst out laughing at the fact you just said wee wee, giving away the fact that you are indeed close to being drunk.

“Maybe you don’t need anymore to drink,” Sebastian said.

“C’mon, Sebby, take that stick out of your ass,” you say, making him laugh. It makes you feel lighter like you weren’t fucking shit up again. Like you weren’t making a mistake you would regret in the morning.

You watched as he made his way into the kitchen, pouring both of you a glass of red wine. Your favorite and most expensive red wine, the one that you had left at the apartment after the breakup. You wondered if it was the same bottle, or if he had done the same thing he was doing with you with another girl. When he came back, he handed you the glass which you placed down on the coffee table, realizing you were still in a designer white dress that you didn’t own.

“Shit,” you muttered after your realization.

“What is it?”

“This isn’t my dress.”

His eyes wandered down your figure as he thought. “You can take that off and I can hang it up for you. I’m sure there’s something here you can wear.”

You nodded before he was walking towards the bedroom, the one you once shared. You followed after him through the small hall. You looked around the room, noticing how boring it looked now. None of your decorations you had were up anymore, but the small mural you once painted in the middle of the night was still in full view. Did he think about you every time he saw it? If he did, why didn’t he just paint over it?

Sebastian placed one of his shirts (that was your favorite one to wear) and a pair of shorts you had thought you lost on the bed.

“Well, you can get changed in here,” he stated before going for the door.

“Actually,” you called out, stopping him from leaving. “Can you unzip me please?”

He paused for a moment before nodding, slowly making his way back to you. The room went silent as he softly collected your hair and moved it to one side. Heat started to rise through your body at the close proximity he held. His hands grazed your shoulders momentarily before he steadily unzipped the expensive dress. You caught his eyes in the mirror in front of you, your cheeks immediately burning red. He finished unzipping the dress before helping you slide it off your arms. You had to cover your breasts with your arm since you hadn’t worn a bra. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen your body before, he knew his way around there better than you did, but not covering yourself just felt inappropriate. But, to be fair, the entire situation felt inappropriate. The dress fell to a pool around your feet, leaving you in nothing but a pair of lace black underwear, ones that Sebastian had bought for you one month before you broke up. You stepped out of the dress, eyes never leaving his. He bent down to pick it up, blue orbs never leaving your eyes.

“I’ll go lay this on the guest bed,” Sebastian said plainly before leaving the room and closing the door.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you let your arm fall. Even though you hadn’t even had a conversation with Sebastian in six months, being in that moment felt more intimate than anytime you had sex with Timothee—or anyone, for that matter. You pulled on the worn-out gray tee shirt that vaguely had ‘Coca-Cola’ printed across it before going out to the living room where you found Sebastian sipping on his wine, now dress in an old tee and grey sweatpants.

The next hour felt like a blur, it was filled with giggles and stupid comments. By the end of it, the wine bottle was empty and you two were officially wine drunk. Now, you were slumped on the couch (the one that you picked out), leaning towards Sebastian, hand dancing along the cushion space between you two.

“Have you realized we never had a goodbye?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“What do you mean?” He asked, not wanting his guess to what you were talking about to be right.

“I mean, we had a fight and I left then we were done. There were no ‘this is for the best’ speeches or attempts at a goodbye kiss. One day there was an us and the next it was … nothing.” You looked up at him, an innocent yet quizzical look on your soft features.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” he said.

Not this shit again. “I know,” you said, “we don’t have to talk about anything. We’re not together anymore. We don’t even need to acknowledge each other’s existence anymore. But tonight, you did, and now we’re on your couch.”

“I don’t—” he started, but you wouldn’t let him finish.

“We don’t have to talk about it then. But, I do have another question. Did you ever fuck anyone here?” The words flowed out before you could think any longer, nothing but courage and alcohol running through your body.

“What?”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory, Sebastian. I just want to know if you ever fucked someone in my—our—this place.”

His eyes bore into yours as he spoke, voice sharp and clear. “No, y/n, I have never fucked anyone in this place. No one but you.”

That answer made you happy. This place, your place, was still pure. No random hookups had tramped through the place where you lived.

“Good,” you accidentally said out loud, making him upset.

“Why does it even matter? It’s not like you weren’t fucking those young things you were all over in public.” He started to get angry at the thought. “Who are you to question me about my sex life after you broke up with me then pranced around tabloid covers for months with different people each week?”

“Because this was our house, I just want to know it wasn’t tainted by blonde bitches with names you didn’t even remember in the fucking morning.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but you’re the only blonde bitch I’ve fucked.”

Suddenly, your hand was moving and your palm was connecting with his face. It shocked both of you, making you both freeze in place. It took ten seconds before Sebastian grabbed the wrist you hit him with, yanking it so you were closer to him. So close you could feel his breath on your face.

“Slap me again and see what fucking happens, I dare you,” he spit out.

Then your heart was in your ass as your stomach erupted with butterflies and your panties soaked with arousal.

It was almost like you lost all control over your body as you smashed your lips against his. Your hands went to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and tugging at the hair there. The intentional scruff on his face was harsh against your smooth skin, but it only elevated your pleasure. Sebastian’s hands went around the sides of your neck, one kind of cupping your face while the other was closer to the back to pull you closer. You felt like you needed to get closer to him, get as close as possible. You needed every single inch of him over every single part of yourself. Your leg swung, straddling him.

Without thinking, you rutted yourself against his thigh, a guttural moan coming from your lips as you did. It’s not like you hadn’t been touched in a while, you just got fucked a few days ago, but you hadn’t experienced something as hot as this in so long. It was rushed and needed, you felt like you would die if he stopped. Your hips absent-mindedly grinded down against his thigh again.

“Fuck, ride my thigh baby,” he ordered. You listened, slipping into your old ways. You continued to rut against his thigh as you kissed. He knew you were getting close by the moans you were letting out into the kiss. He pulled away from your lips, watching as you were losing yourself. “I want you to cum for me, sugar.”

Your hips slowed as your mind raced a mile a minute. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you cum from just his thigh. What would that do to his already inflated ego? It sounded like bullshit to give into him.

“No,” you mumbled out, your hips threatening to halt their movement.

“No?” He repeated.

You sat there for a minute, silent as his eyes frantically studied your face to see what the point was. He wondered if you wanted to stop, he would understand completely, but he knew that wasn’t what it was by the way you keep clenching your thighs together. Sebastian smirked as he realized what was really happening. He grabbed your hips and started to push you down on his thigh. The problem was that you wanted to cum, but you didn’t want to cum for him. Too bad he was determined on it.

You moaned loudly as he started to drag your hips. You were inching so close, the fact that you didn’t want to give in to the feeling made it feel like it was only becoming stronger. Your hands grabbed his old t-shirt as you frantically moved your hips back and forth. Your nose scrunched and your eyes shut tight, your mouth letting out a whisper of “oh fuck”s on a loop.

“That’s it,” you heard Sebastian say even though his voice sounded like it was miles away. “Cum like a good girl.”

Suddenly, all the pressure that was building up deep within your tummy snapped and you were on cloud 9. Your heat pulsed as you road out your orgasm, Sebastian's hands helping you immensely. It took a good minute of pants as you caught your breath before you opened your eyes and came back to reality.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” you muttered to him when you finally made eye contact again.

“I know,” he smirked. “Now be a good girl, sugar, and take off your pants.”

You questioned arguing with him more, but you decided not to. You wanted him, you wanted him so fucking bad. You stood up and pulled down your shorts, doing a little spin so Sebastian could marvel at how wonderful you looked.

“As beautiful as those look on you, darling, they’d look better on the floor.”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you stripped out of the underwear as well, leaving you in nothing but an old grey t-shirt. You went back to your place on Sebastian’s lap, pulling him in for another passionate kiss. You felt like you were melting into him entirely as everything snapped back into place. Your hands roamed lower, palming him through his grey sweats. You smirked to yourself at the realization of how hard he was already and at the fact he wasn’t wearing boxers. He lifted his hips to help you pull down his pants. Just as you were getting ready to place his member in the place you wanted him the most, he halts your movement by grabbing your wrist.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom, y/n,” he warned. You frowned, upset that he had stopped you.

“I don’t care.”

“But you still have that IUD in, right?”

You grimaced because no, you did not. Your five years had run out two months ago and you hadn’t gotten around to making an appointment for a new one. You shook your head slowly side to side before he sighed. He went to pull you off of him but you stopped him by holding onto his shoulders

“I don’t care,” you repeated.

“Y/n, you know why can’t.”

“Why not?”

He looked at you in disbelief. “Besides the fact you could get pregnant?”

“I don’t care,” you said one more time. “I want you.”

He looked into your eyes, trying his best to decipher your intentions.

“Y/n …”

“Get me pregnant, Sebby,” you said, meaning it too. “I want you, I want your kids. Fuck, I want us back. I don’t care if that means kids and a white picket fence. I just want you.”

“Are you sure?”

In response, you slowly leaned down and your lips touched. It was nothing like the kisses you had shared preferably, it was slow and soft. He pulled you closer, finally letting you lower yourself down on him. You both let out loud moans as you sink down on his member.

It was like you had forgotten what making love felt like, probably because you did. In the past nine months since you had split, you hadn’t made love with anyone once. It was all just meaningless sex or hot fucking, but there was no love behind it. You didn’t love Timothee, you hadn’t loved any of your flings. Maybe it was because you never stopped loving Sebastian—you were almost sure it was because of that.

You moved up and down whilst Sebastian thrust up into you. The room was filled with moans, grunts, and praises from both ends. He started to kiss your neck as his thumb started to rub your clit. The multiple amounts of stimulation only brought you closer to your climax.

“I’m gonna, fuck—I’m close.”

“I know, babygirl,” he cooed. “Look at me.” You looked into his blue orbs, feeling your climax inching ever so closer. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whined out as your hips moved faster. “Cum inside me, Sebastian. Get me—fuck, god—put a fucking baby in me.”

With your confirmation, he flipped you on your back, thrusting harder. The hand that wasn’t toying with your clit interlaced with yours. Your grip on each other squeezed harder as you neared your finishes. You wrapped your legs around him as his hips started to stutter.

“Cum with me, baby,” Sebastian groaned.

You finally let the coil that built inside of you snap with his permission. Moments later, he busted inside of you, making you both yell out. He collapsed on top of you, trying his best not to crush you under his weight. You both panted for minutes before you finally spoke up.

“I love you,” you said. He lifted his head, looking into his eyes. “I never stopped.

“Neither did I,” Sebastian said. “Did you mean it, you want to have kids?”

“I want to do anything if it means I can be with you. Anything.”

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan smut #marvel smut #marvel men smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #fanfic #tfatws

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 3 years

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#248

“C’mon in. Have a seat. David? Right? It’s weird calling you by a real man’s name, after spending a whole weekend calling you ‘Cunt’ and ‘Fag’ and ‘Shit Head’. Don’t be surprised if I slip up and start calling you that again. But you, you keep calling me ‘Boss.’ When I offered you this job last Sunday, it was after one hell of a wild weekend fucking your brains out. Is your cunt still gaping or did it snap back into place?...

“You look surprised. Well let me tell you something. I love using faggots like you. Fuck, I don’t hide that fact at all. I wouldn’t have offered you this job unless I knew you could take a pounding from my nine-and-a-half-inch baseball bat of a cock. And while it is not expected of you as part of your job responsibilities around here, I will be slamming into your cunt whenever I want. I saw that look in your eyes when I told you I had an opening here. You were already fantasizing about submitting to your boss. I know you were. I’ve seen it with dozens of fags before. Yeah, I offer jobs to freshly fucked tricks. I have always liked fucking with men, especially on the job site.

“After my wife died eight years ago, my 1,200-acre ranch seemed empty. The oil drill on the northside has me swimming in money. But I wanted fag cunt. I need to use it. I created this warehousing business with one thing in mind, satisfying my cock. I looked to have a dozen or so men that could walk up to any one of them and say I need a blowjob, and I would get one on the spot without worry of a sexual harassment charge. Or to walk through the warehouse and see a new employee getting spit roasted. And it all feels normal.

“From your test run this past weekend, I know you can swallow me, with difficulty, but still manage. You drank my piss, so I know you have done that before. You spent hours eating my ass. I can’t remember the last time my shithole was treated with so much love. Your cunt put up a fight, but by Sunday night, you had one hell of a gape. You even bled a little on that first fuck.

“Wanna see?... I took this photo when I told you to push out some of my load. Here, take it. Yeah, I like taking pics of freshly used cunts. I bet you haven’t ever seen your hole blown up on a twelve-inch glossy. Look at the detail. You can see specks of your cherry. I know you weren’t a virgin, but you were a virgin to me. That’s what matters. And this isn’t some sort of blackmail thing where we keep this a secret.

“Hell, every one of the workers there will know I bred your cunt. You wouldn’t have gotten this job without first having my load in your ass. Every one of the guys you will work with in the warehouse has had my load in his cunt. Every single one! All fourteen of them. You are number fifteen. In fact, Mark, the cute puppy you met when you came in has my morning’s load in his ass right now.

“I have known Mark the longest. He and I go back a long way. We designed this place, and he’s the one who helped me set things up so that I won’t get into trouble. He’s the only one who interacts with the public, if anybody should come by which they never do. I say that because the warehouse is around back. That’s where you will be working not up here. Let’s go take a tour of that. But first, Mark would kill me if I don’t ask you, you want the job knowing what you know?... Good. I would have been surprised had you said no. We have contingencies set up should an employee not want work in such an environment. But I know how to pick ‘em. He hee.

“Grab that pic of your leaking cunt and bring it with us. We’ll go out the back. The warehouse is purposely a few hundred feet from the office. Mark suggested that. He really keeps me honest when it comes to all this shit. In the warehouse, clothing is optional. For the most part, no one wears anything. I have asked the two managers to wear a wife beater to differentiate themselves from the others. The real reason is that they are built like brick shithouses, and they look great in a tank. Hector, the manager you will be reporting to wears a black one and Aaron, the other one wears white. Don’t know why they do that, but they do. If I’m going to be in here for a short time, I just haul out my cock and balls only, otherwise I’m naked from the waist down.

“You had indicated that you are in temp housing in town. I told you that I have housing on property. Those three buildings back there are it. Hector and Aaron each have one, and the large bunkhouse is for any of the other workers. During your probationary time, you will be living with Hector. If you loved my cock, you’ll love his. He’s more into cock worship. The final thing before we go in is compensation. The job you are hired for really only requires 15 to 20 hours per week, but you will be paid for 40.

“Hector and Aaron will make sure you do your share of the actual work. That leaves 20 hours or so to play with the others. It doesn’t have to be all sex, but have fun. The hourly rate is three times what the job normally goes for. You will be provided with a room if you want. You get half the work, three times the pay, a place to stay, and all the cock you can handle. The only thing you give up is your privacy. Now, you are not tied here; you can go into town on your own time. But when you are here on property, you will be expected to comply with the rules. Hector will go over all that.

“Inside and to the left are the locker room and showers. That locker at the end is yours. It’s the smallest, but you are the one with the lowest seniority. Go ahead and strip down. I’ll go get… never mind here he is. Hector this is Dan,… or David or whatever the fuck his name is. Fag, this is Hector, although he’s going to insist you call him ‘Sir’. Look at those muscles! They make his cock look average sized. But fuck that cock of his is just as fat as mine. It’s going to be in your ass in a few minutes. We always break in the new employees the same way, a gang bang. No, don’t put your boots away. Everyone wears theirs as they work. There’s no lock on your locker. Don’t worry about it….

“Hector, are the guys ready by the wall? Good. Good…. Fag, around this corner is the break room. Across from it, see where the guys are standing? That’s what we call the wall of cunts. See the pics there? They are the assholes of every man here. Everyone has my load leaking out, except for that one on top. That’s my shitter. Hector and Aaron’s are in their own row underneath me. You are going to be very up close with Hector’s every night. Everyone else’s is below. I like to think of it as an org chart of leaking cunts. That spot over there is for you to put your pic. Go on. We’ll go around and share names later. I would rather you learn all their cocks first. The pic looks good there.

“Men! The fag here is a piss drinker and an ass eater. Make sure we take advantage of his talents. When I come back, I expect him to be shaved from head to toe, covered in piss, his face reeking of ass sweat, and his cunt loaded up. Over the next week, I want him to taste each of your shitholes. Guys, this is probably the best rimmer I have encountered in a long time. Oh, Hector is ready! Fag, welcome to the company.”

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wandawxdow · 3 years

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A Kidnapped Soulmate Part 6

The snow crunched under your boots as Tomas, the camp leader, led both you and Aleksander to your quarters. The men conversed during the walk, but you were too distracted by your surroundings.

The camp was truly a sight to behold. After nine days spent travelling with a set amount of people, the busyness of the camp was refreshing. People talked loudly, unrestrained and casual despite camping so close to the Fjerdan border. It reminded you of your hometown, with people happy despite their circumstances, and despite your homesickness, you found yourself cheerful. You didn't process that the man, Tomas, had left until Aleksander’s study hand on your back nudged you into your shared space.

For being a temporary room, it sure was extravagant. The bed immediately drew your eyes and you could almost feel your mouth gape open. It was mid-afternoon by the time your group arrived, and the full day of non-stop travelling had left you weary. You could feel your soulmate’s eyes on you as you wandered around the room in awe.

“Do you like it?” he questioned once you finished your inspection. You tilted your head and raised your brows; what did he think?

He put on a gentle smile before explaining, “I have some things to do, but I'll be back soon.”

“Sure, ” you muttered, still entranced by the large space. Kirigan let himself out, and you sat yourself down on the foot of the bed.

Only a an hour later, you found yourself bored; Which for you isn't surprising at all.

You'd tried to read some old book you found for entertainment, but it didn't worked. So, you found your eyes drifting over to the plush bedding. Just a short nap, you reasoned with yourself as you peeled back the thick covers.

As you suspected, within moments the softness of the bed lulled you into a deep sleep.

A bang woke you later. Lazily, your eyes peeled open, expecting to see Aleksander. He had told you that he would return soon. The room was, disappointingly, empty.

Another bang reached your ears alongside a collective cheer. Sitting up in the bed, you looked over at the closed curtains serving as a door; Nothing out of the ordinary. Slipping your shoes back onto your feet, you stood approached the exit.

The curtain pulled away to reveal the outside world. With your head peeking out, you looked around. Two guards were stationed at the door and staring ahead. Beyond them, a flurry was activity was transpiring.

A trio of colours swirled together as Grisha seemed to dance together in a symphony unheard of by you. They were sparring as the sun set - dodging and attacking with a grace practised for years. While small groups fought, others stood around in a perimeter and cheered on. Truly, a sight to see.

You took a few tentative steps out of the tent, and without a reaction from the guards, you directed yourself over to the group. Despite your excitement, you recognised the two Heartrenders following behind you, likely as instructed by Aleksander.

You stood with the mob, gazing at the lighthearted sparring. A Tidemaker and Squaller were throwing punches in front of you with two Heartrenders battling it out beside them. In awe, your eyes couldn't leave the sight. Sure, you've seen people fight before. But no one so trained, so graceful, and so talented. No one who incorporated Grisha powers effortlessly with combat.

Little did you know that your own Grisha had returned and was staring at you in awe. Aleksander Morozova was used to being shamed for his powers, was used to Grisha being shamed by those who feared them. The look on your face though wasn't fear but amazement. You didn't fear their power, and neither did you fear him.

Men and women parted for him as he walked through the crowd to you. “Enjoying the show, ” he teased, alerting you to his presence. Spinning around, you smiled up at him. “Of course.”

Noticing some badly hidden looks, Aleksander offered his arm to you while looking clearly at the crowd. They'll all know you're his. It’ll be their only warning.

Oblivious to the possessive gesture, you happily looped your arm with his and followed as he led you away. Though you enjoyed the display, it paled in comparison to Aleksander, your very own Grisha.

Wordlessly, he walked you both back to the large dwelling, opening the curtain door for you to enter first. You do, noticing Aleksander freezing at the doorway. “What’s wrong, ” you inquired worriedly, tracking his eyes to the bed you’d woken from.

As your mind spun, as did his with thoughts of you and him and the future. The simple unmade bed brought him a flash of images of the life the two of you could have together; getting to wake by your side each day, and protect you at night. He wanted it.

Your wavering voice broke him from his fantasy, “We don't have to - I mean - I can sleep” Your foot tapped against the group nervously as you tilted your head to the bed, hoping Aleksander would get your meaning.

Was it too much, too fast? Maybe the other night was a fluke and he doesn't want you.

“No.”

You let out a breath at his short grumble, watching as he walks even closer to you.

“I want you to sleep wit- by my side.”

His eyes locked onto yours, waiting for a reaction. He posed a silent question, telling you that he's ready if you are and if not, he’ll back off. He’ll wait.

You felt your cheeks flush at his wording. You gave him a short nod, noting his expression change to one of relief. Not-so-subtly your eyes trail down his face to his lips. A smirk graced Aleksander’s face, and you barely got to look him in the eye before he leant even closer.

His eyes searched yours at that moment and once again, you slightly nod as encouragement. You’ve been ready for your soulmate for your entire life, and now he’s here in front of you. You’re ready.

His hands of your cheeks sent a buzz through your body, as though it's finally awakened after a lifetime of slumber. Their warmth sunk into your skin with the cold contrast from his silver ring. Most spectacularly, his lips pressed against your own filled every dream you’ve had since childhood. Your soulmate was there with you, and he wasn't letting go. So, neither would you.

Kinda thinking I should leave the story here...Thoughts.

For those of you who read my last part, I think I’ve worked out why I can’t tag some people. These specific accounts are the only ones who have never posted or reblogged anything. I'm thinking I can't mention them because tumblr thinks the account is fake/inactive.

Tag List - @savannah-elliott @sonnensplitter @coldlilheart @louweasleymalfoy @tranquilitymoon @daybleedsintonightfa11 @auggie2000 @thenightfallingstar @evyiione @mylittlecrazyworldofinterest @navs-bhat @kaqua @kykymyeon @cap-just-said-language @spideylovin @maliasblue @ladyblablabla @fandomstuffff @kaitlyn2907 @cityofstaars @honeyofthegods @coolninjavoid @remugoodgirl @sorrowfulfragmentation @degeathesaviour @bloodyprincess22 @rvgrsbrns @mandos-crest @sophistjo @poulterfilms @the-real-comically-insane

#shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #the darkling fanfic #the darkling fanfiction #the darkling imagine #the darkling x reader #general kirigan fanfic #general kirigan fanfiction #general kirigan #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader

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romqnticstylez · 3 years

Note

I want to read a list of very dirty smutty Romione fanfics (not OOC but book canon complaint). Any suggestions?

Hey there! Glad you asked. I don't have too many since I mostly read Hinny fics with Romione as a secondary pairing (or just Ronarry), so apologies for that

Chocolate and Cream and Bossy Boots by Lavender Brown

A one-shot. Ron and Hermione get stuck in the pantry. You can guess the rest. A little HG on the side. Rated R for sex and language.

Nine Down, Thirty To Go by bowtruckles

"It was all the dirty places her mind had gone simply for him, just to give him a birthday that he would never forget." Missing moment from Everything In Transit.

Intensive Study by Vondrakenhof

Ron surprises Hermione late one night during her seventh year at Hogwarts. Written for the Library prompt of Romionesmut's recent fic competition on tumblr. Lemon.

Trust Before Submission by princesserica84

They've talked for months about this day. They've discussed boundaries, scenes, what's ok and what isn't. Now? Now they get to act out one of Ron's favorite fantasies: Professor and cheeky rule breaking student. Romione. Dom!Ron. sub!Hermione. Smut. Praise kink.

A Sleepless Night by megalowkey

Hermione is having trouble sleeping and Ron decides to help her. Rated M for some rough smut.

come home to my heart by bowtruckles

Hermione has finally come home from Hogwarts. Written for wildegreenlight.

When Planets Align by Potterpandemonium

Inspired by a wonderful piece of Romione art on Tumblr by ruebarb. Hermione and Ron are in 7th year and sneak away to the Astronomy tower to finally have some alone time. Essentially a one shot of pure Romione smut. Very much an M rating.

The Babbling Brook by holly1492

"Oi, what's so funny?" Ron asked, pulling away from Hermione's neck and leaning back on one elbow to study her face, a mildly shocked, open-mouthed grin lighting his own. A romantic drabble and nothing more. Enjoy! Complete.

Pressure by diva.gonzo

One-shot. Complete. Hermione slowly learns what qualities she fancies - through fancying a certain Ravenclaw professor and Intl. Quidditch player - and it turns out that it's a certain ginger haired best friend who still baffles her. Rated M for canaries, Ron's jealousy, Luna's questions, and plenty of lemon flavored bits. Cover art permitted by the talented catching-smoke.

The Next Step: Ron and Hermione Get Closer by sookieandsamfan

5 Months after the Battle at Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione decide to take things to the next level.

Worth It by Aloemilk

A quick escape to get their hands on each other, because being apart is too bloody difficult. Set while Hermione is away at Hogwarts after they win the war. Originally written for Romionesmut's fest on Tumblr.

King's to You by wildegreenlight

Ron's favorite things: food, sex, and strategy. Category winner in the 2015 RomioneSmut FuckFest.

That's all I have. Sorry if they're not what you wanted or you've read them all. Might add some later.

PS. I think all of those except 'The Next Step: Ron and Hermione Get Closer', are oneshots. I didn't realize you didn't say 'oneshots', sorry. I might add some multi-chapter ones later, I'm rather tired right now.

#romione #ron x hermione #romione fic rec #ron weasley #ronald weasley #ron weasley x hermione granger #hermione granger #fic recs #lovely anon

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elizabethemerald · 3 years

Text

Fall Anniversary at the Soltryce Academy

Caleb walked into his classroom at the Soltryce Academy with the immediate instinct that something was wrong. He had been teaching Transmutation theory and application in this same class room for the past twenty years, so anything that seemed different set off alarms in his head.

He mentally checked the wards on the class room and found them intact. There were a few students in their seats, a few more filtering into the lecture hall, by the second. None of them seemed alarmed. Whatever was different today did not appear to be an immediate threat.

Still just to be safe he subtly cast Detect Magic as he set his bag down and took off his coat. Immediately a few points were highlighted in his mind. Of course his own magical items, the amber around his neck and the amulet beside it, the ring on his finger, the chalk he had enchanted to help him lecture. Nothing off there.

There were a few points of magic around the rest of the room, each quickly analyzed and dismissed. Transmutation magic on a small pile of coins near the wall, a low level student’s practice project. Abjuration magic in the wards along the walls. Divination magic in a button, another spying device Astrid had tried to sneak into his class room to keep him from teaching against the school’s policies.

It was the illusion spells that caught his attention. A few of the students were covered in the same, linked illusion. Their appearance normal enough to blend in, but also entirely too normal for a real student. And there, a student he didn’t recognize even with his keen mind, covered in an illusion spell. Several other magical objects of varying power, hidden under the spell. The Vestige appeared to be within its pocket dimension, so at least they hadn’t brought a weapon onto campus.

After setting down his things and greeting his class he squeezed past a few of the students to grab Astrid’s enchanted button. He quickly dispelled it and slipped it into an envelope to return to her later. As he returned to the front he gave the cat sitting on his desk a brief scratch.

“Hello Jester.” He said. Of course he didn’t need Detect Magic telling him of the cat’s aura of Transmutation to know his friend. She was bright blue after all and staring at him far more smugly than even a magic fey cat would.

“Now class, I know we were discussing transmutation principles as applied to effecting the elements around you, but I am afraid that lesson will have to be postponed. It would seem that it is the anniversary of the Mighty Nein getting together and they have decided to invite themselves to my class.”

There was a muttering around the class room as the students looked at each other, before one of them near the front stood up, the illusion dropping off her form as she did so.

“I told you he wouldn’t fall for it!” Veth said in her high voice, She looked mostly unchanged from when they first brought her back to her proper body. A few more laugh lines, but nothing more to show the passing two decades. “Lebby, is an amazing wizard, he wouldn’t fall for something simple like that. You students better appreciate the skill of your teacher.”

Caleb smiled fondly as Veth walked up to the front to give him a hug. Interspersed through the seats a few more illusion spells dropped. A half elven man walked up from the front row and kissed him on the cheek. Essek’s own illusion lasting even as he dismissed the Seeming on Kingsley and Yasha.

“How did they rope you into this?” Caleb whispered to Essek.

“Oh you know I can’t resist a practical joke.” Essek maintained his deadpan delivery for only a few seconds before a small smile graced his lips. Caleb knew quite well that Essek looked as ageless as ever, under his illusion. His elven blood would keep him looking much the same for the next few centuries. Caleb returned the kiss, to the muttering of his students. They weren’t ever a 100% sure who Caleb’s rotating cast of elven boyfriends were, and Caleb was more than happy to keep them in the dark.

“Well you can’t fault us for trying!” Kingsley said. They were wearing a scandalously low cut shirt, a pair of plain black pants, and a pair of thigh high boots. His purple hair was fading to a less vibrant shade just a bit near his ears and he had a larger collection of scars, as one would expect from years of piracy and being a bloodhunter. They were also wearing their sword much to Caleb’s disapproval, which was apparently not magical.

“You can’t expect me to hide this glorious look without magic though can you?” He said, sliding his hands down to his hips then back up his torso. Then he grabbed Caleb’s chin and kissed him full on the mouth, with tongue for several seconds, while his students lost their collective minds. Caleb smiled against Kingsley’s lips right before the tiefling stepped back. He was sure the rumor mill of the school would go wild about that for a few weeks. He wished he could see the look on Master Beck’s face when the news came across her desk. “Here’s to another twenty years, magic man.”

Yasha and Caduceus walked up next, each giving Caleb a tight hug. These two showed their age the least of the non elven members of the Nine. Cad could have been just stepping out of the temple doors in the Blooming Grove, saying that he had only three cups, if it weren’t for the increased presence of lichens and mosses of all kinds on his clothes and armor. Caleb was fairly certain there was an actual bird’s nest in his pink hair. Yasha of course looked as badass and muscular as she had when they first found her. Her hair was completely white, done up in an ornate braid. Home life seemed to suit her well, she looked genuinely happy and relaxed like she certainly hadn’t when they had first gotten together.

Fjord’s spell dropped as well. The half orc’s hair had large stripes of gray in it, he had crows feet at the corners of his eyes, and his salt and pepper beard had significantly more salt to it now. He still looked good, life at sea, despite its hardships, keeping him fit. He laughed at something over Caleb’s shoulder as he approached and he found himself lifted bodily into the air by a pair of muscular blue arms.

Jester having dropped her polymorph spun him around briefly in the hug before setting him back on his feet. She would never fail to look divine. Her horns now curling in on themselves, almost like her mother’s had when they first met her. Her hair is pulled back into a pony tail, poofing out behind her head from the salt air. Her sailing days were certainly not hurting her in anyway. Her smile was still just as wide, her eyes just as sharp, and her arms just as strong, if not more so.

“Happy anniversary Caleb! Twenty years ago you were a stinky wizard. Now you are here teaching!” Jester’s happiness in her voice carried to every corner of the lecture hall.

“What happened to our plan of drinks in Nicodranas this evening?”

“I just couldn’t wait Cay-leb.” She pouted. “Fjord and I got into port early, and I was so bored.”

Caleb smiled at her, then looked around at the rest of the Nein, pretending to count.

“We appear to be one short. Where is my sister? Couldn’t drag her away from the Cobalt training pit? Or did she get lost in a book like some kind of nerd?” Caleb said with a smirk.

“Mother fucker!”

He looked up towards the voice above him, just in time to watch Beauregard drop from the ceiling, to land on his desk with a perfect three point landing. She hopped off the desk and punched his arm, before also grabbing him in a tight hug.

“I am not a nerd, Widogast!” She snapped, a wide grin on her face.

“Beauregard, please do not land on my desk. It was a gift and I don’t think it could bare too many impacts like that.” He stopped to look up at the vaulted ceilings of the class room. “Also, how did you get up there?”

If she had been invisible she would have tripped the wards on the class room. And if she had gone in the brief break between classes one of the early students would have noticed her and caused a stir.

Beau took her turn to smirk.

“I have been waiting up there for four hours so we could surprise you. It’s surprisingly comfortable. I could have gone another couple of hours without breaking a sweat.” She paused to flex, causing several students, and Yasha to blush at her muscles.

Beauregard’s monk training meant that she looked like she hadn’t aged a day since Aeor. And she could still easily out fight everyone else in the room if she wanted to. She was also the one member of the Nein that Caleb saw the most frequently. Their work to root out corruption among the Cerberus Assembly, and other bodies of power in the Empire often kept them up together late into the night, until Yasha would intervene and throw her wife over her shoulder to carry her to bed.

“Can I finish the lesson, or should we depart immediately?” Caleb asked, already guessing the answer.

“Cayyyllleeeb.” Jester groaned, pulling at her face. “I’m sooooo bored. I want to drink and party already!”

Caleb turned back to his class of students. He was sure most of them had heard rumors about Professor Widogast and the wild adventures he got up to with the Mighty Nein back when they first got together. He wasn’t sure how much they actually believed, but he was sure that even the most widely blown out of proportion tale didn’t even begin to cover the truth of what they had done together.

“In honor of the anniversary of this group of arschlochs finding each other, consider this to be a free day. Keep up on your readings, and if you have any questions I will be at my regular office hours tomorrow morning.”

The students immediately started buzzing as they stood and packed. No doubt during tomorrow’s class he would have to field a whole host of questions about the Nein, and that was just the way he liked it. The day after the anniversary was the one day he would talk about what his family had done. As the class filtered out, with many a lingering glance thrown at the colorful group at the front, Caleb turned to Essek, setting the envelope with Astrid’s button in it on the table top to deal with later.

“Would you like to teleport us to the beach, or shall I?”

Essek put up both hands.

“I already used my spell slots getting us all back together again. You can bring us to the coast.” Essek said, his smile a mix between smug and fond.

Caleb rolled his eyes before pulling him into a soft kiss. Then he turned to address the rest of the Nein. The family he had made for himself.

“Are we ready?” After a series of nods, he pulled an ancient clay turtle from his pocket and gave it a squeeze. “Then let’s go!”

And they were off, to a night of drinks and celebration and stories told, and memories shared. And of course many toasts, “To another twenty years.”

#caleb widogast #essek thelyss #shadowgast #kingsley tealeaf #jester lavorre #the mighty nein #critical role #writing emerald #stories entwine evermore

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jimlingss · 3 years

Note

It's B from @bang-tan-bitches and I would like to request a yandere fic. It can be BTS OT7 x reader or BTS member of your choice x reader. Similar to your amazing isekai story i would like something similar(a long one shot or a multi-chapter, your choice). Whether YN transmigrates to a game or a novel (not as a villain but maybe as a cannon fodder side character that has little importance to the story and just wants to lay low) but YN captures the attention of the love interest(s) and shit starts getting weird, intense, uncomfortable. Maybe it causes the supposed female lead to turn into the villain, maybe it causes the love interest(s) to turn into the villain(s). Maybe YN realizes that something is wrong with the story/game but can't figure it out. Idk. Time period doesn't matter. Modern. Ancient. Fairytale. Fantasy. Whatever.

If you can do this great! If you can't or don't want to, that's okay too. You're an amazing writer with so much talent and I'm really appreciative of all your work. Thank you for taking requests from your fans, I'm sure you've received a lot.

Take care! 😘💜💜💜

at the start of the pandemic, I was getting back into manga and manhwa and then after a few months, I dawdled off but recently, I’ve been getting back into it again haha so this request came at a pretty good time. Hopefully you won’t mind that I’ve taken some creative liberties with this request lol I think it’s more fun if I keep readers on their toes, including the requester.

On another note, I really shouldn’t be writing all my isekai’s with Taehyung as the main lead but he’s just so fitting asdfghjkl

↳ The Fox Bride

2.6k || 99% Light Fluff, 1% Angst || Kim Taehyung || Isekai!AU, Slight Yandere!AU, Nine-Tailed Fox!Taehyung

You are a tutorial character.

But you weren’t always. You still remember being a career woman in the twenty-first century, struggling with overtime and paying bills while trying to keep yourself fed. The success of that ranged from month to month. But more importantly, you still remember that night too.

It was rainy. Your car blew a flat tire. You pulled to the side of the highway and got out.

The last thing that registered was the deafening honk of the semi-truck.

Then you felt yourself flying upwards.

But when you landed, instead of colliding with the concrete and dying upon impact, you fell back onto your ass in the middle of a market on a dirt road. Transported back a thousand years ago.

Your purpose was fulfilled in the next two minutes.

“Are you alright?”

The male protagonist had stretched out his hand and helped you up. The hero. The main character. It was obvious with his bright red hair, shining eyes and bronze armour. He was so starkly different from the rest who were gray and drab, including you who was suddenly in a brown shapeless dress. He was practically a neon billboard in the middle of a graveyard.

“Are you Y/N?”

You looked at him, befuddled that he knew your name. But before you could even respond or provide a line of dialogue, he said, “This is a delivery from Baker Jeon. He gives you his thanks.”

The protagonists handed you a loaf of bread. Undoubtedly his first ever quest.

You looked down, not sure what to do with it.

“Do you know where the blacksmith is?”

You had absolutely no clue. But there was the deafening noise of hammering steel literally ten steps away. You would have to be blind not to see the gruff man shaping a sword at an anvil right on the road and deaf not to hear it. As if that wasn’t enough, the literal sign of the shop read: ‘the blacksmith’.

So you pointed.

“Thanks.” And he trudged off.

You were utterly confused until a background character who said they knew you waved you over. You shared your bread with her, brushed aside when she asked you what was wrong, and you followed her as she walked up to your supposed cottage.

All the while, you saw yourself in the background of the hero’s main quest as he ran through the town.

And that was that.

It wasn’t so hard to figure out where you were or what the hell this was when you put your mind to it. Without much of a job or a family, and no technology but the candle that you had to conserve when night fell, there was ample time.

So you spent it thinking and you eventually solved the mystery.

You were in Beast Boys Harem: A Forbidden Embrace. AKA. a dumb yaoi otome game app that you downloaded on your phone when you were sixteen and bored. You remember because you were too cheap to buy the routes, so you played the tutorial, prologue and read the summaries of the routes online. Now you regret that you didn’t just fork over the goddamn five dollars.

Even more than that, you regret that you even downloaded the game in the first place.

But at least you’re just a tutorial character. You’re free from the storyline and the plot—

That’s what you thought.

Turns out living a thousand years in the past in a fantasy realm as a woman didn’t bode well. It was probably no different from how it would’ve been like in the medieval ages. You had no trade skills. No one was willing to accept you as an apprentice when you were a woman. You found that you were essentially illiterate with a reading level of a preschooler, no one was willing to teach you, and you had no power or wealth when you were without a father or a husband.

And you’re certain what the landlord and tax-collectors are doing is illegal.

But in this world, in this unjust realm, there is no such thing as the law.

“We know you’re in there!”

You jolt from the heavy pounding on the frail wooden door.

“It’s time to pay up!”

Your hands tremble as you set the candle down that’s still billowing of smoke, the flame smothered out mere seconds ago. As much as you want to hide and pull the blanket over your head, you know that door won’t last. They’ll find you if you’re trapped in here.

“If you can’t, spread those legs of yours!” a low voice spits and there’s chortling from the men.

Someone adds, “Sell your body already!”

“Open up! Damn whore!”

Without a single possession but the white nightgown clad on your body, you open the latch of the back window. You cringe at the squeak, trying to keep your movements quiet before the door gives way.

You hoist yourself up onto the window ledge. The door bends with the strength of multiple clenched fists against it. Your feet touch the soft grass outside your cottage. The men shout.

And the door finally slams against the wall, hinges broken.

But by then, you’ve slipped into the shadows.

“Where is she?!”

The blanket is ripped off the bed, curtains are whipped back, every drawer dumped onto the ground and cupboards yanked open. The floor shakes with the weight of their boots and you press your palm to your mouth to silence your panting breaths, slowly stepping away.

“That damn whore slipped through us—!”

But as your shitty luck would have it, a sudden crack has the whole world coming to a standstill.

Shit. You look down at your feet, realizing that the snapping noise came from you stepping on a twig. And it’s exposed your hiding place.

“There she is!” — “Out the back window!”

You grab fistfuls of your dress and bolt.

“Get her!”

With your cottage on the edge of town, there’s nowhere to run but through the dense woods. It’s shrouded in the darkness, no doubt filled with wild beasts creeping through the thicket. The rustling canopy of the trees doesn’t allow the dim, waning moonlight to illuminate your path.

So you’re left blind. Struggling up the high incline of the forest, feet slipping on dirt and mud. But you keep sprinting with all your might, even when the pointed, coiling branches scrape at your calves until blood sheds and the hem of your dress tears in the underbrush.

“Run, little rabbit!” one of them mocks, “Run!”

The four men continue to give chase, gripping onto their roaring torches, shrieking and howling after you. One of them is manically laughing as if your efforts to flee only adds to the thrill. Their greased hands reach out to snatch you, but the tips of their fingers graze the ends of your hair.

Your teeth are sunk into the bottom of your lip, sobs breaking through your aching chest. Your lungs burn, dying for a break or moment of relief. But you don’t relent and luckily, you manage to build distance between you and the men. Only, that luck comes crashing down by a fucking hole.

A hole in the forest floor that you don’t see. That has your footing all wrong. That makes you scream and fall.

You twist your ankle in a direction it’s definitely not supposed to be in and cry from pain.

A second later, you force yourself to get up and keep running with tears flooding your eyes and dripping down your cheeks. But it’s more like limping than running, akin to hobbling on one leg and every movement has pain shooting from your swelling ankle.

The effort becomes futile. They surround you within minutes.

“All finished?” The tax-collector’s head cocks with a spreading grin. “You’re not going to keep running?”

Why couldn’t you just fucking die the first time?! Even if it was an awful death where you didn’t have time to prepare yourself or say goodbye to anyone, at least it would’ve been the end. At least you wouldn’t have to suffer.

But there’s no time to grieve. Or hate the new life you’ve been given. This is it. You have to keep going. You have to survive. By any means. You’re about to pick up a branch and uselessly wave it around at them, shout at them to stand back. Anything that you could do to save yourself—

“Who dares come onto my mountain?!”

There’s a deep timbre behind you. A husky voice that quivers the very core of the forest.

As if the wind has swept through, the trees and thicket rustle and it goes silent.

The men fall back onto their asses, some torches clattering to the ground. Their eyes have grown double in size, nearly falling from their sockets and their jaws have dropped to the dirt.

“I-It’s the nine-tailed fox!”

The man scrambles back.

“Demon!”

Another barely manages to get onto his feet. He turns around and lurches away while shrieking.

They all run. Scattering away as frantically as cockroaches when the light is flickered on.

From your spot on the ground, you turn around with wide eyes.

Amber irises meet your gawking and they practically glow in the darkness of the forest. He is dressed in a loose, white robe that’s draped over his frame, open to the middle of his chest. And over his honey hair, on the top of his head, his pointed golden ears twitch. By the torch fire still yet to die out, he is illuminated and his shadow is casted on the ground. The blazing flame warms his cold, sharp features.

He is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. In both worlds you’ve lived in.

And you know who he is.

Taehyung. One of the love interests of the hero. A seductive, sly creature that eventually coaxes the hero into selling him his soul to grant one of his wishes. But Taehyung grows to become an obsessed character that wants to do nothing but monopolize and possess the hero for himself.

That same Taehyung approaches you with his lip curled as you teeter to your feet.

“Run away, girl.” He leans close. “Before I eat you.”

“Stop!”

On sheer instinct and adrenaline, you push him back. Your palm shoves against his firm chest.

Taehyung stumbles back with his eyes becoming rounded. He looks down to where you had made contact against his body. “Did...you just touch me?”

“What?”

Taehyung’s head darts upwards and he captures your wrist in his hand, squeezing tightly. He tugs you in and on your swollen ankle, you stumble into him. Bodies flush against one another. Your face pressed to his warm chest. His arm coming around your waist to break your fall.

He is aghast.

“You’re not from this world.” Taehyung’s yellow eyes swirl as they gaze into you. “Where did you come from?”

…

It’s been three days.

“Wed me,” he begs for the seventy sixth time.

You don’t know why you’re keeping a count.

“No.”

You’re hugging your knees for warmth. The rice paper-paneled doors are slid open and letting in the chilly air. He doesn’t seem to be affected by the cold, but you don’t look at him for long.

You turn into the corner of his home while sitting on the tatami floors as if you’re putting yourself into time out. But you’d like to say it’s your privacy corner. It’s as private as this abode, which was basically one room, could get.

Taehyung sighs in frustration, placing his hand on his forehead. His teeth grit. “You’re only making this harder for yourself.” Your silence angers him more. “You can never leave.”

You turn over your shoulder to glare. “Even if I married you, you’d never let me leave anyway.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes on you and then smirks. “You’re right. Wed or unwed, I won’t let you out of my sight. You should feel grateful, girl. You’re the best human I’ve ever treated.”

You quietly scoff.

Maybe you should feel scared. Maybe you should tread more lightly. After all, he’s not a character to be trifled with.

But you know he needs you. That alone gives you power.

As a beast, Taehyung’s been trapped on this mountain by priests for centuries. The only way he can be free is by feeding off of sexual energy and breaking the barrier. But of course, they also cursed him to be unable to touch any woman in this universe.

You aren’t from this universe.

You jolt when you realize that while you were lost in thought, Taehyung’s crawled closer. He has a foxy smile, amber eyes searching your expression. “Maybe….maybe I’ll grant you a bit of freedom if you would just give into the temptation and let me have a taste of you.”

As cold as he looks, he is beautiful. He is mischievous when he smirks and sly when he speaks. You are utterly spellbound as you look into his irises. And the temptation he speaks of flickers in the warmth of your belly.

But you turn away.

“I already said we only do that kind of thing after marriage. And I will only marry someone I love.”

Taehyung draws back with an unamused scoff. “What a prudish world you’re from.”

He wanted you the moment you were brought to this house. With the intensity of his stare and your captivated state, you had let him pin you to his floor and you liked it. But then clarity came and you blurted that such an act only happens after marriage. A lie just to buy time.

You didn’t expect for the hero to arrive at Taehyung’s house the next day. With his red hair and bronze armour, he had gotten lost in the forest and knocked on the door. Before you could limp over and answer it, Taehyung jumped off the roof and confronted him.

The guy was thrown off the mountain within five minutes.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to have a steamy rendezvous. Taehyung was supposed to get the sexual energy from him!

The story was going off the rails. And you’re not sure what you’re even buying time for anymore.

The both of you know it’s only a matter of time before you break and succumb to his mesmerizing seduction.

Taehyung is cruel, ruthless, obsessive.

But what’s the most bewitching thing about him is the jarring contrast of when he’s clumsy and nurturing. It’s what he regards as his own weakness. What he hides from others. But you felt your heart waver two nights ago when you were shaken awake in the middle of twilight. When you peeked open your eye to see him gingerly wrapping your swollen ankle with bandages.

He looked beautiful in the pale moonlight, ears, tails, sharp features softened—

“Ow!” You wince as he squeezes your ankle, right on your injury.

“You think too much in your head,” he says and looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“It hurts.”

A sadistic smile tugs on Taehyung’s lips. He lets go, but only to lift your chin with his fingers. His plush lips are inches away, his breath warm on your skin and he gazes deep into you. “I won’t let you return to your world. I won’t let you run away. I won’t let anyone harm you.”

“You’re mine now.” Taehyung swears, “You’ll fall in love with me eventually.”

You gulp and he smirks.

The two of you know it’s only a matter of time.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #taehyung reader insert #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfiction #LET'S GOOOO

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valentineforlemonandcherry · 3 years

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Foxtail & Wolfsbane Part 10

Summary: Your lifelong obsession to hunt down the Nine-Tailed Fox has not gone as expected, and seventeen years later, you find yourself coming back to the place where it all started: Hogwarts. However, with Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban and Headmaster Dumbledore’s hire of a certain Professor R. J. Lupin, you suddenly find yourself intertwined in the fates of those with whom you thought you had parted ways with long ago. [Multi-Post Story] [Rowan Scamander x Reader] [Remus Lupin x Reader] [Young Sirius Black x Reader] [Tristan Graves x Reader] [Severus Snape x Reader] [Warning: Story Contains Explicit Smut.] *Note: Rowan Scamander and Tristan Graves are OC characters. *Please do not repost or copy my work without my permission. Thank You!

☾ Click Here for Foxtail & Wolfsbane Home Page (All Chapter Links) ☾

The next morning, you and Remus unpleasantly jolted awake to the sound of the dormitory door crashing open. To be fair to your dormmates, it was well past ten in the morning, and they had no idea that there was a certain brown-haired boy in your bed.

Somehow, the first thought in your mind was not of yourself, but of Remus. You just knew with absolute certainty, even with the morning fog of over-slumber weighing heavily on your mind, that Remus would not want to be caught in this situation.

You quickly turned to your side, and you hurriedly yanked your blanket up to cover Remus’ head.

Remus, for his part, woke up fumbling and was immediately re-introduced to your breasts. Yes, the poor boy woke up to being smothered by a faceful of breasts.

Sputtering, Remus started to grasp the back of your jumper to pull you away, but you whispered furiously, “Sh.”

Then, trying to pretend like you were still asleep, you very carefully kicked your feet out, so that your blanket would cover Remus’ absurdly far-away feet. Literally, the boy was so tall (and he’d snuggled down to be able to hug you around your middle) that his feet were nearly dangling off the end of the bed.

“Merlin! Are you still asleep?” Eliza Edgecombe, one of your dormmates, had spotted you shifting under your blankets.

Remus’ eyes grew wide, as he realized what was happening.

You very carefully lifted your head up, and you mumbled back, “Hi, Eliza.”

“You didn’t even go out last night, sweetie,” Jemma Goldstein said to you. “Why are you sleeping in so late?”

“I stayed up late,” you said softly.

You felt Remus’ arms tighten around you just a little.

You smiled in reply, even though Remus couldn’t see your face.

But Irene Boot caught your expression, and she said in an astounded voice, “Wait! Wait a minute. You never smile, and now – I know that look! That’s afterglow!”

“What?” you sputtered out.

“Did you have a man in here last night?” Irene demanded, pointing her finger at you dramatically.

“Oh my God! Who?” Jemma asked you, her face brightening at the news.

While you weren’t close with your roommates, they were all quite kind-hearted and thought of you as some sort-of eccentric pet, and they were genuinely happy whenever something good happened to you.

But, as grateful as you were for their kindness, this was not a conversation you ever wanted to have with them, and especially not now, not when Remus was lying there, wide awake, under your blanket with you.

“What? No!” you replied helplessly.

Irene tsked. “You can’t fool me. Besides, it’s written all over your face. Anyone could tell.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you mumbled, fidgeting a little. Remus hugged you even tighter.

Then, Irene put it down so simply, stating it as though it were some fundamental principle of science, “That you got laid.”

Your mouth fell open.

Remus was blushing furiously against you, and now, he was glad that he could bury his face against your breasts, because it spared him the horror of having you see him react to this terrible, humiliating conversation.

“Anyways, in case you ever decide to get your rump out of bed, breakfast is ending in ten minutes!” Eliza told you. She reached out and grabbed her friends’ hands, and she pulled them out of the dorm room.

Once the door had slammed shut, you very slowly peeled back the covers, and Remus, wide-eyed and yet still somehow sleepy-eyed, too, blinked up at you, in a kind of amused and embarrassed daze.

“Um,” he mumbled, his voice husky from just waking up, “good – good morning.”

“Yes,” you agreed awkwardly.

You both paused.

Then, you couldn’t help it. You started to giggle.

Looking down at Remus and seeing how disheveled his hair was, and how befuddled he was to have woken up smushed under the cover and up against your breasts, and hearing immediately three strangers’ voices screeching excitedly about how you must have gotten laid, how there must be a man that stopped by last night – all while Remus was trapped under your sheets – it was all too much, and impossible not to laugh at, even if it was embarrassing.

You tried to apologize for what had happened between your fits of laughter. “I’m sorry for – for – aha – what happened, Remus. I know my – my roommates can be a bit much to – aha!” You cut off, laughing heartily now.

Remus stared up at you, completely bewildered. But a slow smile began to spread on his face, as he took in the sight of you laughing, while sunlight streamed down on you from the high windows in the dorm room.

Without meaning to, he gave you a little squeeze in his arms, hugging you closer, and your laughter quieted down, as you let Remus pull you even closer to him.

Remus mumbled again, “G’morning, lovely,” and he really meant it.

You smiled, feeling Remus nestle against you and hug you just around your middle, and so tightly and warmly, too, and you replied back softly, “Good morning to you, too.”

* * * * * * * * * *

However, as Remus got up from your bed and awkwardly brushed his hair back into place, he wondered how he was going to tell you that he wasn’t going to be around for the next few days. Tomorrow night was the full moon, and then he’d need a couple of days to heal…

Remus fidgeted at your doorway. “I may not be around for a few days.”

You looked up at him as you pulled on a new jumper.

Remus cleared his throat a bit nervously before he said, “Um, prefect duties.”

You both immediately felt the lie escape and expand into the room, into the air between the two of you.

But you simply nodded. “Okay, Remus. Come back to me when you can.”

* * * * * * * * * *

So, you found yourself alone for the next few days. You busied yourself quite easily, however, learning about the natural flora and fauna of Japan.

However, to your dismay, you discovered that you were having trouble in your own little garden, because after about five days, you noticed that the little potted foxtail ferns weren’t doing so well.

You changed the plant’s position besides the window, watered it more, then watered it less, blew on it in case it needed more carbon dioxide, tiptoed around it so as not to disturb it – and still –

“Determined to die, you little fools,” you growled angrily, as you realized that the ferns had begun to turn brown and crumple up at the edges. “Can’t you seeing I’m trying to save you?”

“Save who?”

You turned to see Remus’ head poke up through the entrance.

“Remus!” You started to push yourself up to go greet him, but Remus hurriedly stopped you.

“Watch your head!” he shouted, but he was so intent on reminding you that he forgot to take his own advice, and his head went bonk against the wooden beams.

Remus groaned and fell back onto the floor.

“Oh, Rem,” you said sympathetically, but you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Right, yes, take my own advice,” Remus muttered to himself.

You crawled over to him on your hands and knees. “You okay?”

“I think I’ve just forgotten everything I learned in Transfiguration this morning,” Remus groaned softly. “I just felt it all woosh away through my ears.”

You laughed. “Well, you can always ask Black to teach you again. Isn’t he really good at Transfiguration?”

“Yes, Sirius is good at Transfiguration - well, at everything, really. Although I think James might beat him with Transfiguration. But wait - how’d you know that Sirius was good at Transfiguration?” Remus asked curiously.

“Oh, he sits next to me in Potions, and he’s always going on about himself. This morning, he kept bragging about how he’d beaten me on the Transfiguration exam,” you replied, rolling your eyes at the memory.

“Sirius sits next to you in Potions?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you see him every class?”

You gave Remus a strange look. “Yes, I sort-of have to.”

Remus paused, trying to figure out how to ask his next question. “Well,” he said finally, “what’s it like sitting next to him?”

You snorted. “You have to ask? He’s a right menace. He gets me in trouble all of the time. Slughorn loves him, for some unfathomable reason. Although, Slughorn does seem to have forgotten that I owe him a detention, so there’s that…”

“Oh.” Remus was still trying to make the connection as to how you went from hating Sirius to letting him have you at the New Year’s party, but he decided to just let it go. It’s not my business, anyways, he told himself. But then, his mind cruelly conjured up the time he’d found you in the Quidditch Supplies Shop, buying a Beater’s bat – for Sirius.

Should I ask her? No, it’s rude. But I can’t stop thinking about it. It just doesn’t make any sense.

Meanwhile, you wandered back to your little fern, hoping irrationally that it would have turned back to being a vibrant, lively green again. It hadn’t. Your face fell.

Remus finally said to himself, once and for all, No, you can’t ask her that. She said it meant nothing. So, just trust her. And it doesn’t matter, anyways.

You let out a soft sigh, and you came meandering back to Remus.

Remus caught a glimpse of your forlorn, defeated expression. “Bad day?” he asked you kindly.

“Yes,” you sighed out. “Remus.”

“Yes?”

“Can I have a hug?”

Remus paused. My chest is bandaged up pretty heavily. If Prongs told the truth (which is always a fifty-fifty chance – not that he means to lie, he’s just always so dramatic), then apparently, I was so distracted by the little bow that Wormtail managed to sneak onto Padfoot’s tail last night that I tried to bite it off. But Padfoot, not realizing what Wormtail had done, leapt to the side, and I rammed myself straight into a tree.

“…Or not.”

Your voice brought Remus back to the present moment.

Remus carefully lifted up his arms, opening them for you. “Come here, then.”

You barreled into Remus’ arms, just as he knew you would, and he winced a little. Ow, that hurts. But he nonetheless wrapped his arms tenderly around you, and he felt a wonderful warmth in his chest as you nestled in close. You tucked yourself in against him, sitting with your legs open, spread on top of his thighs, and your arms tightly around his shoulders, and your head nestling into neck.

You inhaled softly. Yes, this is Remus’ scent, mmm. But… there’s a slightly medicinal scent, too,. Like peppermint, but not the sweet kind. You glanced down, and you spotted the soft border of gauze peeking out from beneath Remus’ long-sleeved shirt.

You wanted to ask what had happened (that he kept getting hurt, honestly), but Remus got there first. He asked you, “What’s bothering you?”

Unwilling to quite admit it, you mumbled into his neck, “It just doesn’t want to stay alive. I’ve tried everything.”

“Huh?”

“I keep trying to save it, but it’s a stubborn little shit.”

“You’re, uh, going to have be clearer about what you’re talking about. Who’s being stubborn?”

You sighed and sitting up a little, you turned your head and nodded over your shoulder. “The foxtail ferns, Remus. They just won’t stay alive.”

Remus’ concerned expression cleared. “Oh, that’s what you were talking about? That’s it?”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?” you said indignantly, drawing your head back to give Remus a little glare. “D’you how hard I’ve been trying to keep that plant alive?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean ‘that’s it’ as in, you didn’t try. I just meant that it’s not a big deal compared to, I don’t know, you getting hurt or something,” Remus said quickly.

“But it is a big deal,” you pushed back. Your eyes dropped down to his chest. In a quiet voice, you reminded him, “You gave it to me, Remus.”

“Yes, but it was to make you happy,” Remus replied. “It’s not worth anything if it’s just going to make you sad.”

Remus reached up with one hand and cradled your cheek in his hand, tilting your head slightly up. “So, it’s nothing to worry about, all right?”

You didn’t meet his eyes, but you nodded a few times. “Okay.”

“Good girl,” Remus murmured softly.

You blinked. Wait, what did he call me?

“What did you just say?” you asked Remus, more than a little stunned.

Remus stiffened. Then, he quickly drew his hand away from your face and he turned his head, hiding his expression from you. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”’

“You did,” you insisted. “I want to hear it again.”

Remus was blushing scarlet by now, not that he would show his face, but you could see the side of his profile taking on a pinkish hue for its outline.

You gently leaned forward and pushed your forehead against his cheek a little. “What do I have to do to hear you say that again, hm?”

“N-Nothing.”

Remus’ hands had now fallen to your hips, and he held onto you, almost holding you out and away from him, to stop you from leaning in too far and seeing his face.

Oh God, he thought, I’ve only just come back to you. At least give me a chance to breathe.

But you had never been one to wait. “I’ve saved a piece of chocolate for you. May I bribe you with that?” you asked politely.

“Er – no bribes,” Remus told you.

“Damn.” You sat there for a moment longer. Then, you said, “Well, maybe you’ll change your mind when you see it.”

Remus expected you to get up to go get it, but you merely shifted so that you were still sitting on top of Remus, but now you were sitting on one thigh only, with your own thighs sandwiching his leg. This allowed you to reach around him. Straining a little and reaching with your very fingertips, you managed to drag the piece of chocolate from the little basket of food sitting against the wall.

“Got it!” you crowed victoriously, sitting back up.

But when you sat back down, you sat down a bit too quickly and too forcefully because you could suddenly feel how Remus’ knee came right up between your thighs.

Your eyes widened, as you felt the pressure of his knee press up against a very particular sweet spot of yours.

Remus felt you freeze on top of his leg. Frowning a little, he finally turned his head back to look at you. You were still frozen, perched on top of his leg, now holding up the piece of chocolate between your fingers.

“If you keep holding onto that so tightly, it’ll melt,” Remus told you.

You saw the way Remus’ eyes flickered over the piece of chocolate. Relaxing again, you said knowingly, “You want it, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Remus replied. “Chocolate or dignity, it’s hard to choose.”

You laughed. Then, you said softly, “Well, you can have both, Remus. Here.” You held out the piece of chocolate for him.

“But you said it was a bribe,” Remus responded, puzzled.

You shook your head. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“How noble of you.” Remus’ tone was mildly sarcastic, but he held out his hand nonetheless to receive the piece of chocolate. Madam Pomfrey never lets me have any sweets when I’m healing.

You smiled and dropped the chocolate into his hand. “Well, just because I’m having a not-so-great day doesn’t mean I should ruin yours.”

Remus looked up at you. “Does it really bother you that much that the ferns are drying up?”

You were still for a moment. Then, you shook your head. “No. Like you said, it’s not a big deal.” You leaned forward and rested your head on his shoulder as you murmured, “I know that.”

But Remus could feel your sadness radiating off of you. Oh no, it was supposed to make her happy. However, an idea sprouted in his mind just then. “Well,” he told you, “maybe the ferns will make a magical comeback, you never know.”

You gave him a brave little smile. “Maybe. Thanks, Remus.”

Remus kept one arm around you, holding you around your waist, while with the other hand, he expertly unwrapped the chocolate and pushed it into his mouth.

“Does it taste good?” you asked him curiously.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“You have some on your fingers. Can I lick it off your fingers?” you asked, nodding over at his hand.

Remus paused. “If you want chocolate, I can go get you some from the kitchens…”

“No, I have what I want already,” you told him, reaching out to clutch his wrist in your hand. “But I’ll only do it if you say that I can, Remus.” Lifting your head up from his shoulder, you sat up and brought his hand just in front of your mouth. You eyed the melted chocolate on his fingertips.

As you did, you whispered, “‘Cause I want to keep being your good girl, Remus.”

Remus groaned softly when he heard you say that, both because he realized that in a haphazard way, you’d tricked him, and because your words made him suddenly feel quite flushed.

You smiled at him knowingly. “I heard what you said, what you called me,” you whispered teasingly. “Sir Lupin.”

“You said I could have the chocolate and my dignity,” Remus mumbled, feeling a bit wronged.

“You? You have your dignity,” you fought back. “It’s me that’s paying the price. I’m sitting here begging for you to let me suck chocolate off - ”

“Okay, yes, yes,” Remus said hurriedly. I don’t think I can take it if she starts talking like that.

“Okay!” you said brightly, and you wasted no time.

Glomp went your mouth onto his fingers, and you deliciously and meticulously sucked all of the melted chocolate off of his fingertips.

Remus blushed when he saw the way your little mouth worked fervently all around his fingers, but he couldn’t seem to look away from you. He was mesmerized by you.

“Thanks,” you said, swallowing a little and licking your lips to make sure you didn’t have chocolate on your face.

“Um, no – no problem,” Remus mumbled. And once again, he found himself wondering if you were aware that you were shifting your hips on top of him.

It was barely noticeable, really, but Remus could feel it – how soft and warm you were right between your legs, and – and – you were so softly rubbing yourself on top of his knee.

“Erm…” Remus coughed lightly. “Lovely, I think you’re – you’re…”

“What?”

“Getting a bit warm on my knee.”

“Oh!” You hurriedly started to get off of Remus, but Remus suddenly grasped your waist and sat you back down on him.

“Ah!” You shivered when you felt yourself bounce lightly against Remus’ thigh, your clit stimulated by the friction created when your pussy lips spread atop Remus’ thigh, and you could feel the soft fabric of your boyshorts pushing against you, and beyond that, the fabric of Remus’ trousers rubbing against you…

“Hah… Ah…” you breathed out, a little harshly.

Remus watched you with curious and gentle eyes. “You know,” he whispered to you, as his eyes remained on your lovely face, “you’ve been leaving little wet patches all over my pants…”

Your eyes flashed open in surprise. “W-What?”

Remus nodded softly. “And I was wondering… why.”

“Well, um,” you stuttered out. Oh God, I didn’t realize I was doing that, you thought, embarrassed.

“Is it because this - ” Remus suddenly lifted his knee up a little –

“O-Oh,” you mumbled out –

“ – feels good to you?” Remus wondered aloud.

You blinked, in a bit of a haze, as that lovely pressure coming from Remus’ thigh took a minute to filter through your pussy, and up into your tummy.

“If you don’t want to say anything,” Remus murmured softly, “then – can you show me?”

Your brow furrowed a little. Show you? You cocked your head at Remus.

Seeing the question in your eyes, Remus smiled a little. She’s looking at me like I’m a map she has to decipher. Meanwhile, the sunlight was coming in through the large window to the left of you, casting a beautiful golden glow on you, and making you look radiant.

“You look so cute,” Remus murmured.

“Only to you,” you replied. “And only because you’re so gentle with me.”

“Good,” Remus said softly. Then, he whispered, with his voice dropping into a lower octave, “But, I still want to see how you cum. Will you show me, sweetheart? Please?”

Your little jaw dropped open. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. True, while the words coming out of Remus’ mouth right now might be a mere matter of course for any other man, when it came to Remus, just hearing him whisper the word “cum” sent your mind spinning.

“It’d be kind-of embarrassing, though,” you protested. “I mean, you’d just have to deal with me, um, shifting on top of your thigh. It wouldn’t do anything for you.”

“But it feels good for you?” Remus asked.

After a moment, you finally admitted, “Yes.”

Remus nodded. Leaning forward, he gave you a soft little kiss. Then, he gently nuzzled your nose with his. You inhaled slowly, trying very hard to still your heart as it insisted on beating faster and faster. You felt Remus’ stray curl on his forehead brush against your forehead.

Remus softly opened his mouth, and you instantly parted your lips, too.

For a second or two, the two of you simply shared quiet breaths together, until Remus, grasping your waist in his hands again, leaned further forward and caught your little mouth in his for a proper kiss.

“Mmm,” you moaned out quietly against his lips.

After a moment, Remus pulled back a little. “I missed you,” he confessed. “These past days, when I didn’t see you, I missed you.”

“You – You did?” you breathed out, and you felt your heart open up, and an indescribable sense of quiet, but soulful happiness bled into your heart.

I always do, Remus thought, as he felt you hug him tighter, pressing your own body flush to his, so that your shadows were inseparable on the wall behind you.

Then, with your chin resting softly on Remus’ shoulder, and still straddling his thigh and feeling the sturdy warmth of Remus’ thigh nestled between your legs, you slowly and softly began to move your hips, just a little, on top of Remus’ knee.

Remus immediately held your breath catch, because your face was propped up gently on his shoulder, so that your mouth was right at Remus’ ear.

To your surprise, Remus breathed in sharply with you. You hugged him tighter, and you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek as you gently rolled your hips forward, pushing yourself against his thigh.

Remus, who was grasping your waist, felt your hips moving forwards and back, and he felt you rubbing yourself on his thigh now.

She said it wasn’t going to do anything to me, but – uhn – I think she was wrong about that, Remus found himself thinking.

Your skirt was slowly making your way up your thighs; your shifting kept pushing it up as it came into contact of Remus’ thigh both in front and behind you, and when Remus glanced down briefly, he could catch glimpses of your boyshorts, and of you shifting back and forth, more and more fervently against him.

“U-Uhn,” you mumbled out a soft, yet desperate moan.

Very wrong, Remus thought, and he gulped softly.

You were starting to feel your little clit catching against his thigh with every back-and-forth shift, and you began to roll your hips forward, to feel more of Remus’ thigh spreading you out. Pressing your clothed cunt down onto his thigh, you appreciated every bit of friction you were subjecting your little pussy to.

“Ah… Ah… Ah,” you panted out, directly into Remus’ ear. Remus was learning that your voice became a little raspy when you were chasing pleasure, and he softened at once when he heard that slightly textured quality enter your voice. He knew what it meant – it meant that you were slipping, slipping into that floating, bright world of sublime pleasure. And perhaps you could not have imagined the high it would give Remus to see you losing yourself simply by riding his thigh, but it certainly made Remus an intense feeling of satisfaction.

Watching you work your little hips, grinding that plush, wet cunt of yours all over his thigh, and even feeling how your breasts were straining against your jumper and pushing up gently against his chest as you panted heavily and clutched onto him, Remus was so intensely affected by you. He wanted to see what might happen if he were to move his thigh even a little higher for you -

You had quickly become quite wet between your thighs, and you had already been well on your way to making yourself cum on Remus’ thigh, when you felt Remus lift his knee up ever so slightly, pushing his thigh flush against your already wet and sensitive cunt.

“Ah!” you cried out, right into Remus’ ear.

By now, the middle of your boyshorts were absolutely soaked through, clinging to your wet, wet cunt, and Remus pressing your shorts up harder against your clit and your pussy hole only made you wetter.

Oh – Oh no, you thought to yourself feverishly, I think I’m going to soak through onto his trousers, and I haven’t even cum yet.

When he heard you cry out like that, Remus’ protective instincts over you kicked in immediately. Even though the rational part of his mind knew that you were feeling pleasure and not pain, Remus also thought, How can I feel anything but protective, when you’re whimpering and letting out little muffled cries directly into my ear? You sound so unbelievably precious, lovely.

Remus pulled you even closer, until you were nearly sitting atop his hip. His long arm wound around your waist easily, and his hand fell onto the higher part of your skirt, which was still covering your thighs. Remus extended his fingers to grasp onto as much of the skirt as he could, and then he fisted your skirt and pinned it up at your hip, giving you more freedom to move without your skirt being in the way.

Feeling the pressure of his hip, as well as his thigh, pressing into you, you ended up desperately wiggling your hips, now suddenly shifting, dragging your pussy from side to side, smearing the cum leaking through your boyshorts on top of Remus’ trousers, as you frantically tried to withstand the sudden tension that you were feeling, so tightly coiled up inside both your cunt and your tummy.

When you shifted side-to-side, however, you could feel how your pussy lips were spreading against Remus’ thigh, and the cum in your pussy was now leaking from you even more readily, until Remus could feel your wetness drenching through even his trousers.

“Mm, ah…” you breathed out feverishly.

Remus, feeling you beginning to shiver, reached his hand up between your torsos, forcing you to break your tight hug around his shoulders. You whimpered a little as your arms fell away from Remus, but just then, you felt Remus’ hand slide to the back of your head, and he gripped your hair at the very roots, at the nape of your neck, quite tightly.

Keeping your hair in his tight grip, Remus pulled your head away from his shoulder, which you’d been moaning into all this time, and he drew you away from him, just enough to be able to see your face.

You were blinking, as you had closed your eyes the entire time you’d buried your face against his neck. Now, the sunlight streaming in through the window was making your vision a bit fuzzy, as you struggled with the sudden light flooding your vision.

Meanwhile, the fuzzy and vague sensation of tension and pleasure between your thighs was becoming more and more intense.

“Re – Remus,” you moaned out, clearly as a plea for permission to lean forward and hide your face against his chest again.

But Remus softly shook his head. “I told you,” he whispered, “I want to see you…”

A part of you wanted to stop yourself – this was too embarrassing – but you were too close to your climax to reject it anymore. No, you had to chase after it even harder, faster –

Uhn, uhn, uhn! you moaned loudly in your mind. You were now shifting back and forth more and more frantically, chasing that intense pleasure that was starting to make you throb, as though your cunt had a little heartbeat of its own. You gritted your teeth as you grinded your pussy hard into that wet patch on Remus’ thigh, making it even wetter and darker.

“Uhn, Remus,” you begged aloud, and Remus knew, he must have known, that you were asking for him to hold you as you came, but Remus still only shook his head lightly, and his fingers remained laced deep into your blue locks, keeping your head away from him.

Remus’ eyes mostly remained on your face, drinking in every sweet expression you were giving him, but his eyes did fall momentarily down your body, and Remus breathed out heavily when he saw how busily you were working yourself on his thigh. Your own thighs were shifting everywhere, your hips stuttering, and Remus could feel your little pussy pressing itself down onto him, all wet and hot and needy…

“Mm,” Remus bit down on his lower lip subconsciously, and he let out a soft moan of satisfaction and appreciation. She’s so pretty like this.

“Ah! Remus!” you cried out just then.

Your mouth fell open, and you began to lean forward, when Remus, suddenly snapping his head back up to look at your face, instinctively jerked your head back by your hair so that he could see your face when you came.

You felt the sudden tug in your hair, and you gasped involuntarily as your head fell back, and your back arched to accommodate Remus’ yanking you back. Your hands reached out for Remus, scrabbling wildly at his chest for a long moment before finally finding the collar of his shirt to hold onto. Then, as your eyes fluttered shut, a string of soft cries, the nonverbal synonyms of pleas, tumbled out of your soft, open mouth. Oh God, I’m going to cum!

“Remus, please!” you moaned out. “I’m – mmm!”

Suddenly, Remus felt your thighs shivering. Your little feet were trembling against the wooden floor, on either side of Remus’ thigh. Your toes curled up inside of your sneakers. One of your shoelaces had come untied somewhere in the midst of all this.

With how desperately you were now clutching onto Remus’ collar, your hand was now sliding down the front of his chest, and you were dragging the front of his shirt down. For once, Remus didn’t notice, for he was too busy gazing at you. He was watching you with such tender, and yet quite possessive eyes. His eyes glinted a deep, lovely brown-green, as he took in this beautiful sight of you pleasuring yourself and cumming on his thigh.

All at once, you let out a loud sob. Because your head was held back like that, the sound erupted loudly in the small room, as a wanting, nearly primal half-cry and half-moan.

You trembled all over, with your back arched so beautifully, abs straining, thighs shuddering inwards all around Remus’ thigh – and ah…

Remus finally let your hair go, as he realized how much you needed him close to you now, to hold you up, for you had fallen forward and slumped into his chest. You were still feeling little jolts twitching inside your throbbing, wet pussy, and little tremors ran through your body. Remus, feeling you shiver, hugged you to him as tight as he could.

You let out a strained, last huff of breath against his chest, and a second later, Remus could clearly feel that damp spot on his thigh growing.

“Oh, lovely,” Remus whispered in surprise, “you’re so wet.”

It’s ironic, Remus thought wryly, that when I can’t scent her anymore, I can now feel her all over my thigh.

“Mmm…” you breathed out tiredly. Then, you pressed a kiss on his chest, right over his bandages.

Remus suddenly realized that his shirt had just about been yanked open, and his bandages were out in plain view. But you didn’t comment on them at all. You just carefully rested your head where his chest was undamaged, right above the bandages.

After a moment had passed, in which you could hear Remus’ heartbeat in your ear (because of how you were lying your head against his chest), you murmured, “Your heart is beating really fast, too.”

Remus merely nodded softly. In truth, his heart was not only pounding, but his cock was stiff with desiring you.

However, just at that moment, you brought one hand over to his chest and softly traced right over where his heart was.

“What are you doing?” Remus asked you, a bit anxiously.

“Drawing a heart within a heart,” you murmured softly. “An outer, heart-shaped shell, to protect your heart, Remus.”

Protect my heart? Remus mused. The only thing my heart needs protection from… is you.

Remus let out a soft sigh, but he didn’t say anything as he continued to cradle you in his arms, rubbing your back soothingly, and giving you gentle kisses on the top of your head every few seconds. And though he was far too shy to ever say it aloud to you, in his head, he whispered adoringly down to you, good girl.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next day, when you came to your hiding spot after class, you found Remus leaning over your potted plant.

“Remus?” you said curiously. Remus was rarely up here before you were.

Remus jumped in surprise, and his head narrowly missed the wooden beam above him.

“What are you -?” Your eyes fell onto the plant behind him.

The little ferns in the plant were all green again – fresh and vibrant with life.

“Did you just replace the ferns?” you asked Remus.

“No! They came back to life, all on their own! Like magic!” Remus said, trying to act cheerful and astonished. “Whatever amount of water you gave them yesterday, it must have been just right.”

You raised a most skeptical eyebrow at Remus, an eyebrow so stern that McGonagall might have awarded you House Points for it.

Under your disbelieving and scrutinizing gave, Remus’ face fell, and he shuffled uncomfortably from side to side for a few seconds. “Well… Yes, I – I might have given the ferns a hand,” he finally admitted.

“How much of a hand?” you asked him.

“Just, you know, here and there.”

“Let’s see this ‘here and there.’ Hands out.” You nodded at him, clearly indicating for him to stop hiding his hands behind his back.

Remus sighed, and he brought out his hands and opened them. In both of his hands lay the old, clearly dried-up and dead, ferns.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I thought I could pull it off, but…”

“What were you going to do if I kept killing them off?” you asked him.

Remus shrugged. “They’re not hard to grow…”

You looked up at him in awe. “You were going to keep growing them and replacing them?”

“Um, well… yes, yes, I was.”

“Remus.” Ducking your head a little, you walked up to him.

“Sorry,” Remus repeated, his face a bit flushed from embarrassment. “I know it was a stupid idea. I just hated the thought that it was my fault that I’d dumped these ferns on you, and you felt sad that they wouldn’t grow properly and - ”

You reached up, grasped his face gently in your hands, and pushing forward onto your tiptoes, you kissed him.

Remus froze. For a moment, he was unsure of himself, and he certainly didn’t know what to do with his hands, as they were full of dried-up ferns. Finally, he closed his hands back into fists and he wrapped his arms around your waist, almost lifting you off your feet.

You kissed Remus for a long, long time, only falling back onto your feet after you’d given him a soft bite on his lower lip, and gently swiped his tongue with yours.

“Um, what was that for?” Remus asked you, feeling a bit foolish to be standing in front of you, still holding a bunch of dead ferns.

You gave him a little smile. “Oh, I don’t know,” you said breezily. “Maybe for being the most thoughtful person I’ve ever met?”

Remus didn’t know how to respond to that. It wasn’t in his response arsenal to reply to such a genuine, yet blatant compliment. “Oh, uh… I wouldn’t – That’s quite the – the statement - ”

“Come on,” you told Remus, sparing him from the horrible business of replying to a compliment. “Let’s get rid of all of those dead ferns in your hands.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Ten minutes later, you and Remus were standing under the willow tree by the Great Lake, scattering the dead foxtail ferns in the calm waters. You could see the little guppy fishes swimming up to eat the ferns.

“Do you… You’re not sad anymore about the ferns dying, right?” Remus asked you quietly.

“No, I’m all right now, thanks to you.” You looked over at him, and smiling, you shook your head. “In fact, I’m really happy, Remus.”

“You are?”

“Yes. Maybe for the first time in a truly long time.”

Remus hesitated. Your words tugged at his heartstrings, for it was exactly how he felt, too. Yes, there were flashes of happiness in his life, especially thanks to the other Marauders, but when was the last time that he had felt truly and purely happy? He couldn’t remember.

For, when the other Marauders had accepted him and even become Animagi just to protect him and be with him, Remus had, of course, been extremely happy and grateful, but the amount of guilt he felt at betraying Dumbledore’s trust, and his total trepidation for what might happen if something went wrong, with either the Animagus process or when they went on their monthly romps in the forest, injected those memories with a very real and intense sense of apprehension.

Yes, this is the closest moment, Remus thought. Standing here with you, watching the waves ripple out on the glassy surface of the lake… This must be happiness – true happiness, the kind associated with peace instead of chaos.

Just then, you murmured softly, “You know, Remus, I think this is the first time we’ve been out on the castle grounds together. I mean, just out, not going to visit Hagrid and Artemis, not bumping into each other accidentally in the village, but just… together, and out in the open.”

Remus thought about it for a moment. She means that we don’t ever do things together in public. We don’t even say hi to each other in the hallways, let alone go on dates… But, I don’t have the courage to promise you more.

Remus replied quietly, “Yes, I think you’re right.”

I’m sorry, Lovely.

Remus came closer to you, and when you reached out your hand, Remus took it into his own, and the two of you stood on the shores of the Great Lake, watching the last of the foxtail ferns vanish into the darkness of the cold lake water…

* * * * * * * * * *

Winter was finally passing, in favor of the milder winds and vibrant blossoms of spring.

However, the last remains of frost still lay thinly on the ground, and whenever you took Artemis out for a walk, the impression-less ice made it difficult for you to track her, while the crunching sound your feet made whenever it hit the ground made it very easy for Artemis to escape you.

“This is pitiful. I’ve got to practice more,” you groaned to yourself, after hours had gone by without finding Artemis.

You lifted your wand and you murmured, “Corusco.” A soft, twinkling sound of a bell rang out in the hushed forest air.

A moment later, a responding twinkle, almost like an echo, only a tad bit brighter in sound, began to ring out in the forest, somewhere out to your left.

Then, Artemis came bounding out from behind the trees, with the magical bell around her neck ringing brightly.

You lowered your wand, and the bell fell quiet.

You held out your arms, and Artemis leapt into them.

“Good job, Artemis,” you praised her, stroking her fur. She gave you a little yelp and pawed at your chest.

You couldn’t find me today, she was saying. I win!

You smiled at her. “Yeah, I guess you did. C’mon, let’s head back. Your little paws are cold, Art.”

Artemis merely gave you an unimpressed snort, as if to say, You’re worried that my paws are cold? Hmpfh, I’m built for this, y’ know.

* * * * * * * * * *

Remus was gone again.

You no longer stayed in your hiding spot when he decided to spend days away from you. You just didn’t like being in that space anymore without him.

Instead, you took increasingly long walks in the forest now, especially because the weather was becoming slightly warmer. You didn’t mind the slight sting of cold across your cheeks, either. There was something about you that savored the feeling of freedom, and feeling nature – whether it was the dirt beneath your feet, or the wind brushing across your face, or even the sting of the cold on your skin – helped you to feel free.

You promised yourself not to think of Remus, or Rowan, when you were out on these walks. But, inevitably, when you returned to your hiding spot, only to see the strange nest-like structure Remus had quietly built in his little corner, you would be reminded of him.

Try as you might to keep your gaze on your maps, your eyes would wander over to Remus’ make-shift corner in the room, where, over the months that he had now occupied this space with you, Remus had slowly began to gather some items around him – spare quills, books on magical spirits that he thought you might find interesting, chocolates, old jazz records he was scared to leave in his room for fear one of the others might trample over them, and single socks that he couldn’t bring himself to throw away but also for the life of him could not find out whether the other sock went. Your eyes lingered over one particular book called “Greek Mythology Reimagined into Magical Myths.” And then, in the middle of all of this neat-but-messy hodgepodge of items, there was one of his cardigans that he’d left behind from last time he was here. When you saw his cardigan, you were reminded of the patch on the back of your jumper…

It was odd. In some ways, you trusted Remus completely. You didn’t want to pry where he didn’t want you to pry. You didn’t need to, anyways, to love him, you thought.

But on the other hand, it felt like every time the two of you started to get closer, Remus would announce that he wouldn’t be around for at least a few days.

Last time, right after he had touched you all over and kissed you and fell asleep in your bed with you, with his hands still slipped up onto your bare back, under your jumper, and his head buried against your chest, Remus had said he couldn’t be around for five or so days because of “prefect duties.”

This time, after Remus had so patiently held you and helped you cum all over his thigh, and the two of you had gone out to the Great Lake together, where you subtly mentioned that you wouldn’t mind going on an actual date with him some time, he had remained around, but he’d never taken you up on your hint that maybe the two of you could spend more time together out of your hiding spot. And now, again, Remus told you that he was going to be away for another five or so days, this time because of “his mother’s health.”

You didn’t want to question him, so you just accepted it and tried to smile as you waved good-bye to him. And then, when Remus saw you waving at him, he’d stutter to a stop, turn around, and come back to give you a sweet hug before leaving, tucking your head softly against his shoulder and cradling you with his sweater paw.

The warmth of his hug would last you for days, and you’d hang onto it desperately in your mind, but eventually, it would vanish as nothing more than a wisp of memory. At that point, however, a doubtful little voice would rise up in the back of your mind and whisper to you, “He’s trying to set boundaries. He wants to be close to you, but he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with you. Take the hint. He disappears after every intimate encounter, and he doesn’t seem open to taking you out on dates or even greeting you in the hallways. He only likes you as his little pet, his little secret. Why won’t you just admit that to yourself?”

You shoved the voice away, deep into the recesses of your mind. You’re wrong, you argued back. Remus isn’t like that.

“But even if he was,” the voice argued back, “would you have the courage to stand up for yourself and push him away?”

At this, your heart faltered a little. You slowly scooted over to Remus’ little nest and plucked out the cardigan. You brought it up to your face and inhaled. Yeah, it smells just like Remus – earl grey tea, antique books, chocolate…

Was I braver before I met Remus? you wondered. More focused, certainly, on myself and on finding the Nine-Tailed Fox. Well, maybe I should regain some of my old focus, and make more of an effort to sharpen my tracking skills. After all, there’s not that much time until I graduate, and the real hunt begins.

* * * * * * * * * *

Later that night, you were crouched outside of the back window of Hagrid’s hut. You were trying to coax Artemis to jump through Hagrid’s window without waking Hagrid or Fang. Artemis recognized your scent at once, and, with her ears flickering curiously, she came to the window almost at once.

“There you are, pretty thing,” you cooed. Then, pulling out your wand, you tapped it on the windowsill, murmuring, “Alohomora.” The window sprang free, and Artemis slunk out easily.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll get you back here soon. I just want to try something with you tonight, all right?”

Artemis mewed softly, settling in against your shoulder.

You gently closed Hagrid’s window shut, so that the chilly nighttime breeze wouldn’t infiltrate his cozy cabin. Then you crept away, deep into the Forbidden Forest, just as the full moon was beginning to rise.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Now, listen here.”

Artemis perked up her ears and looked up at you.

“I’ve been wanting to have a serious talk about this with you for a while now.” You stopped and still holding the fox carefully in one arm, you pulled out Remus’ cardigan from inside of your cloak.

Artemis immediately shrank away from it. You frowned. “No, you’ve got it wrong,” you told her. “I keep telling you - Remus was trying to help me save you. He wanted you safe.”

The fox gave an unhappy mewl at you and pawed at the cardigan, as if to push it away from her. But you pushed it back towards her, insisting, “Friend.”

Artemis glanced down at the cardigan again, almost worriedly, before looking back up at you.

“Friend,” you repeated, trying to gently nuzzle her with Remus’ cardigan.

She was still for a long moment, but then reluctantly nuzzled Remus’ cardigan back with her nose.

You smiled. “There we go. Now you won’t go biting at Remus’ fingers whenever he tries to pet you, I hope.”

Artemis gave a soft, indignant yelp, as if to say, Hey, it’s not my fault I’m wired this way…

But just then, you swore you heard a rustling in the leaves behind you. You froze. So did Artemis.

What was that? you wondered. I’ve been in the Forbidden Forest at night several times before, but I’ve never heard a sound like that.

Heart thundering, you slowly drew out your wand. Then, whirling around, you cried out, “Who’s there?”

There was no response, only the faintest breeze rustling through the forest. It was so dark now that night had properly fallen, and you couldn’t make out anything beyond ten feet in front of you, if that.

Suddenly, Artemis growled and bared her teeth. You looked down at her, whispering, “What?”

But then, to your surprise, she leapt out of your arms in an explosion of fur and claws. Yelping loudly, she raced through the trees without you.

“Wait, no! Artemis! Come back! There are dark magical creatures out here! Art, stop!” You sprinted after your fox for all you were worth, but it was impossible for a human to keep up with a fox, especially at night, in a forest filled with trees and hedges.

A low branch caught your shin. With a gasp, you tripped and fell hard onto the forest floor. “Ugh!” you groaned. But just then, somewhere off in the distance, you heard a small yelp, and you instantly knew that Artemis was in trouble. Breathlessly, you pushed yourself up from the ground and went running off again, pushing yourself to sprint as fast as you could to reach Artemis.

* * * * * * * * * *

Though you didn’t know it, of course, Artemis had always been able to smell the faint traces of a werewolf on Remus, as well as his cardigan. So, it confused Artemis greatly when you kept pushing the cardigan at her and repeating, “friend, friend.”

But then, when you’d been busy smiling down at her, Artemis had caught glimpse of a most unusual creature over your shoulder – a great big stag, with huge antlers.

Artemis immediately went on autopilot. Yelping, she raced out of your arms, scared for her life.

But her fear only intensified and worsened the further into the forest she went. Artemis began to regret leaving your arms, but she couldn’t have helped it, as her every instinct had been screaming at her to run, for she recognized at once that that was no normal stag. A normal stag wouldn’t even be in this type of forest in the first place. She immediately recognized that.

But then, Artemis paused. Sniffed. Stopped. Wait… Wait, that’s the scent of “friend”… Yes, “friend.” Friend! Safety!

Running so fast she looked like a blurred arrow, Artemis ran eagerly towards the scent that matched the cardigan, though the scent was somewhat muddied, but she figured that was just the scent of the damp forest all around her. Artemis ran and ran, thinking of how proud you’d be of her that she knew to run to “friend” – smack!

It was only when Artemis ran smack into “friend” in a dark clearing, that she realized that “friend” turned out to be a terrifying, bristling, and growling werewolf. Artemis yelped and skidding to a stop, she fell hard on her little rump. She whimpered pitifully, ears sinking right back until they were pointing backwards and flat on her skull. She was done for, and she knew it.

But then, the little bell on her neck started ringing loudly. Her eyes flashed open in surprise, but her tail instinctively thumped, because she associated that sound with you.

Besides that, the bell sound was so startling and out-of-place in the deep, dark forest that even the savage, growling, yellow-eyed werewolf before her paused, narrowing its eyes in puzzlement.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Artemis! Artemis!” You were still running and yelling for your fox, even though you knew you were far behind her. The thing was, though, that your wand was dragging you to her so long as you kept it out in front of you, because of the little bell you’d hung around her neck. See, the spell acted not only to activate the bell sound, but also as a compass, to direct you towards wherever she was. So, even knowing that you were likely far too late, you kept going.

You burst into a dark and completely unfamiliar clearing that was deep in the forest, deeper than you’d ever gone before.

As you raced towards the middle of the clearing, you swore you heard a growl somewhere behind you. You stopped dead in your tracks. You tried to breathe quietly, but your heart was racing so fast and your lungs were aching so much with want of oxygen that it was impossible to be totally silent.

Still, you did your best to silence yourself, and for a long second, there was absolutely no sound. The forest felt deadly still, which was odd, in itself.

You whispered, in a trembling voice, “Artemis…?”

“Rrrrrroarrrr!”

A ferocious and hideous roar shattered the night air all at once.

You screamed and stumbled backwards, only to trip over a rock hidden beneath the foliage. You landed hard on your butt. A flash of pain ran through your body, and you groaned. But the adrenaline was winning out over the pain, and you still had enough sense to raise your wand up, even if you were sprawled out on the ground.

At that moment, the most eerie pair of yellow eyes came out of the darkness of the trees, accompanied by a low, rumbling growl deep in the creature’s chest.

Your breath halted. What… is that? Oh God, oh God, oh God, your mind chanted furiously.

You croaked out in a raspy, barely audible voice, “Lumos.”

Producing light in that moment was both the stupidest and smartest thing you could have done. It certainly alerted the werewolf as to where you were, but the werewolf knew already because of its incredibly heightened night vision. However, it also enraged the werewolf, which did not bode well for your survival. On the other hand, it forced the werewolf to look away, and in that instance, your survival instincts kicked in and you got up and began to run for your life.

Unfortunately for you, a werewolf is easily thrice as fast as a human, and you were overtaken in no time. You screamed when you felt the werewolf’s hot breath on your neck, and a second later, it sharp claws dug into your back. You cried out in pain – arms sprawled out, you were falling – you hit the ground hard again, this time on your front - you shut your eyes tightly, waiting to die – but then –

“Ruff, ruff! Grrrrr….” Two sharp barks sounded out from just behind you, followed by a growl. You felt a blast of hot air go over your back and you heard the sound of two animals ferociously colliding into each other.

You gasped and managed to turn yourself over onto your back and onto your elbows. Is that a black dog fighting… a – a werewolf…?

Suddenly, the adrenaline crashed in your system, and the pain of falling hard twice and of having claws rip into your back all caught up with you. Before you knew it, your vision was blinking out, and you were falling back onto the forest ground.

Your wand began to slip from your fingertips. A jumble of thoughts blurred together in your mind. No… you thought, I can’t die yet. I have to go to my – my brother’s graduation… Is Artemis safe? Remus, where are you? Mom, I’m sorry I’m not a good enough daughter for you. My Nine-Tailed Fox, where are you? Then, an intense buzzing sound rang out in your mind, until it was the only thing you could hear.

The last thing you saw was the night sky high above you, and though most of the stars were blocked out by the tall trees, you could spot the brightest star – the Sirius star, you thought hazily - guiding you home. Home…

* * * * * * * * * *

You suddenly jerked up. A flash of pain ran through your head, and you were instantly dizzy and nauseous. “Ow!” You brought you hand up to your head immediately.

“Whoa, easy there.”

You cracked open one eye to see –

“What the hell are you doing here?” Your voice came out hoarse as chalk.

“Yeah, you might want some water there.”

A soft yelp agreed with him.

You blinked, and opening both your eyes, you took in the most unexpected sight of Sirius Black sitting next to your hospital bed, and with none other than Artemis in his lap.

Your jaw fell open. “What’re you - ? Artemis?” Then, you choked – and coughed.

Sirius grimaced. He reached over and tapped his wand on an empty glass, murmuring, “Aguamenti.”

It filled with water, and he handed it to you.

You downed it, but as soon as you did, you asked, “What happened? Why are you here? And why are you holding Artemis?”

“Is that her name?” Sirius said casually, scratching Artemis behind the ears lazily. Artemis purred with happiness.

You squinted at Artemis questionably. “I’m glad you’re okay, but how can you cozy up to Black?” you asked her, stunned and feeling betrayed. “Do you have any sense of who he is? He’s the one who put you in my dormitory in the first place!”

“Sh, keep your voice down!” Leaning forward, Sirius hurriedly clamped his hand across your mouth. “Pomfrey doesn’t know Artemis is in here. And besides, I never got caught for that prank, and I’d rather you keep quiet about that.”

You immediately shook your head to get his hand off of your face, but as you did, you felt rivers of pain come alive and melt down your entire back.

“Ow…” you groaned.

“Yeah, you might not want to make any sudden motions right now,” Sirius said, a bit ruefully. “Especially if it’s going to strain your neck or back.”

“What happened to me?” you asked Sirius, as you carefully lifted your arms one at a time to stretch. You winced when you heard your shoulders crack.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sirius asked you. He lifted Artemis up with both hands until the little fox was face-level with you. “You broke the rules and went into the Forbidden Forest in the dead of night with this little fella - ” Artemis’ tail swished happily when she realized Sirius was talking about her – “but she took off and ran into some other creature in the depths of the forest. You went after her, all panicking, and then you fell and lost consciousness.”

You frowned. Your memory was quite blurry, but that did seem to make sense and add up to the parts that you remembered except…

“How would you know all of that?” you asked Sirius suspiciously.

Sirius sighed and placed Artemis back on his lap. “You never trust me, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” you responded immediately. Then, you gave him a look that clearly indicated that you were still waiting for his answer.

“Hagrid came up to the castle to report that Artemis was missing, and James, as the Head Boy, ran back down with him to help Hagrid find you. He told me all about this morning.”

You stared at Sirius with a skeptical look for a while longer. But then, something clunked in your brain. “Wait. This morning!? What time is it now?”

Sirius gave you an exasperated look. “It’s lunchtime. What? D’you think I was skivving off class to come see you?”

“Anyways.” Sirius got up, dumping Artemis onto your bed. “You missed Potions today, so Slughorn asked me to come tell you that you’ve got your detention with him tomorrow at six.”

“He’s not going to cut me any slack?” you asked half-indignantly and half-desperately.

Sirius smirked at you. “Nope. Actually, he’s quite furious with you. Apparently, he forgot about the detention you owed him, and you didn’t remind him.”

“Oh, and here.” He tossed a piece of parchment onto your bed. “That’s the make-up assignment for missing today.”

With that, Sirius started to head out of the hospital wing. Artemis made to bound after him. You grabbed her and held her back, and she whined and scratched at your wrist.

“No,” you told her firmly. “That’s a bad man. Foe. Enemy. Rival. Culprit. Criminal - ”

Sirius suddenly turned back on his heel to tell you, “Hey, miss-I-fell-in-a-forest-and-knocked-myself-out, I can hear you. Stop being a smart-ass, and stop confusing that poor fox. It’s not her fault she’s got better taste than you.”

“Wha -? Better taste?” you sputtered, irritated beyond belief – but Sirius was already out the door, gone.

Artemis let out a sad sound and slowly sat down on the bed again. You let go of her and with a sigh, you gently laid back on your bed again. I wake up to a pounding headache, to arrogant-as-ever Sirius Black, and to detention with Slughorn. Fantastic. On top of that, I feel like I got hit by a train, I’m sure Hagrid’s going to yell at me when I return Artemis to him, or be disappointed in me, which is frankly even worse, and I also think I lost Remus’ cardigan… Damn it. You rolled over a little and buried your face in your pillow, wanting to block out all thought.

* * * * * * * * * *

Later that evening, Madam Pomfrey released you, though she glared at you suspiciously when you insisted on changing into your clothes by yourself (which was essential in hiding Artemis from her, as you shoved Artemis into your jumper), but on strict orders to come back to change your bandages tomorrow evening.

Once released, you went down to Hagrid’s at once. Sure enough, he gave you a lecture on how he couldn’t trust you ever again if you kept sneaking out into the Forbidden Forest at night and how he thought you were smarter than to put yourself and Artemis in danger like that.

Feeling terrible, you figured that you might as well take the guilt train all the way to the station at this point, and you dragged yourself up to your hiding spot, expecting to see Remus there. I’ve got to tell him that I lost his cardigan, you thought, sighing heavily. I feel terrible, especially because I know how hard he works to keep his clothes for as long as he can. Maybe I’ll be able to buy him a new one at the next Hogsmeade trip, though I’ve been broke ever since I bought that stupid Beater’s bat and a cartload of alcohol.

But your apology went unsaid, because Remus never showed up to your hiding spot that night.

Or the next.

Right, he said he’d be gone for at least five days. It’s technically only been five days, so let’s just be patient and wait, you told yourself.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dragging yourself to Slughorn’s detention was the worst. However, when you handed him your note from Madam Pomfrey, Slughorn grudgingly changed your detention assignment from chopping liverwurt to grading fourth years’ homework. Slughorn provided you with a “sample key answer” and it took you a few minutes to realize that this was actually Severus Snape’s fourth-year work. Your jaw fell open when you realized how intelligently Snape had answered each and every question. He’d added diagrams and tables, but never just to show off; they genuinely presented the information in a more digestible way.

“Godric,” you muttered under your breath. So he’s not just all hook nose, he’s got some brain, too. Then, you winced at yourself. That was mean. Snape hasn’t done anything to you.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning in Potions, Sirius came in late. Slughorn shot him a look, but didn’t say anything. You snorted. If it had been you, you were sure that Slughorn would have said something.

“What’d I miss?” Sirius whispered to you, as he pulled out his textbook.

“Everything,” you supplied unhelpfully, as you were still annoyed from having to serve your third detention with Slughorn thanks to Sirius.

“Great, thanks,” Sirius deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes at him. You may not put up barricades of books between the two of you anymore, but that still didn’t mean that you were pleased to see Sirius.

“Oi.” Sirius nudged you with his shoulder. “How come you haven’t taken any notes?”

It was true. Your parchment was blank.

You looked over at Sirius with narrowed eyes. “Why, were you going to copy off of my notes by just looking over my shoulder?”

“Yep,” Sirius said unashamedly.

You scoffed and looked away, back to where you had been staring for the better half of the first ten minutes of class.

After a moment, Sirius followed your gaze – only to see you looking at: “Snivellus?” he whisper-shouted, horrified. “What’re you looking at him for?”

“Shut up,” you retorted at once, embarrassed that Sirius had caught you staring.

“Merlin,” Sirius said, shaking his head almost as though he pitied you, “Artemis really does have better taste than you, doesn’t she? I bet she could smell the grease coming off of Snape’s head from a mile away, and it would disgust her – as it should.”

“Why are you so mean?” you asked Sirius.

Sirius nodded at your blank parchment. “Why are you so useless?”

You stared sullenly at Sirius for a moment, thinking, It is not my responsibility to give you notes for your own damn absence! “Why are you such a prat?” The question left your lips before you could help yourself.

Sirius blinked once, taken aback, before his eyes narrowed at you. “Why have you got a stick shoved up your ass?”

The conversation quickly regressed in trading passive-aggressive insults for the next ten minutes, until finally, you murmured, in a mildly casual voice, “Why are you the way that you are?”

That simple, yet hard-hitting question left Sirius gaping, and you smirked, pleased at finally having the upper hand on him.

But the smile slid off your face when Slughorn announced a pop quiz, and both you and Sirius were still staring at two sheets of shamefully blank parchment.

* * * * * * * * * *

It had been eight days, and Remus still hadn’t come up to your shared hiding spot. You didn’t even see him in the castle anymore. He wasn’t in classes, and he never appeared in the Great Hall for meals.

Maybe his mother is really ill, you thought worriedly to yourself.

Finally, you decided to break your “no-prying” rule. You walked into Potions, plopped down next to Sirius, and asked straightforwardly, “Is Remus all right?”

Sirius looked at you with surprise. “You’re asking about Moony?”

“What?” you replied, confused.

“Er – no, sorry,” Sirius said. “You’re asking about Remus.”

“Yes.”

Slughorn walked in just then, so you pretended to open your textbook, but you immediately looked back at Sirius expectantly.

Sirius, however, had bent his head over his notes. You frowned at him, filled with well-justified skepticism. When was the last time I saw Sirius leaning over his notes? Never.

“Hey.” You poked Sirius hard in the shoulder with your quill.

“Ow,” Sirius grimaced, though he was still refusing to look at you. “That’s sharp, y’ know.”

“No kidding,” you retorted. “Anyways, Remus told me that his mother was ill, and that he had to take a week off to see her. Do you know if his mother is all right now?”

Sirius finally looked over at you. “Remus told you all that?”

You nodded.

Sirius sighed. “His mother is fine. But Remus was taking care of her, and now he’s caught whatever she had.”

You blurted out incredibly loudly, “What?”

The entire class and Slughorn looked over at you.

Slughorn paused. Then, he said icily, “Yes. Shrinking Solutions do make one shrink. The key, I believe, is in the name.”

The class let out a merry shout of laughter, and you flushed with embarrassment. But when the embarrassment faded away, all you could feel was worry for Remus. You gnawed anxiously on your lower lip, and though you held your quill in your hand, all you left were messy splotches of ink on the sheet of parchment in front of you.

Tagged Users: @areomalfoy

#fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #foxtail and wolfsbane

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kyn-lyn-blog · 3 years

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Race for the Crown

Okay so this is going to be a story about my interpretations of Jude and Cardans kids. This is not really about them but they are obviously in it. I will put the list of their kids here just so everyone can get an idea that this is a long project! FYI the last three children are triplets and with them being so young they won’t be involved like the rest but maybe in the future I might write something (a little blurb on them as they are older!

Jurdan Kids:

Ben / Ezren (horns)/ Liriel (Bee wings/controls bees) / Aimon (tail) / Elluin (snake skin patches/forked toungs) / Cohlan (tails and claws) / Lixiss / Finnea (butterfly wings) / Finneus (moth wings) / Echo / Echibod / Echian

words: 3025

The intro basically explains the plot but i will say this: It is about the Greenbrier/Duarte children’s fight to the crown and their struggles, strengths and ambition

I do not typically post fics or stories but I am hoping to start, All questions, feedback, and statements are welcomed

There were twelve children, nine chances, eight competitors, three who cared too much, three who weren’t sure, and one who did not want it all. All fighting for the throne and crown. The current King and Queen grew tired of ruling, and many thought choosing an heir would be no problem with all the children they had and yet, though the numbers where high, problems came with every one of them. The only children who were for sure out of the running were the triplets, the youngest who were barley three. Every child had a story and something keeping them from the crown from the oldest to the youngest and none of them seem to have shown what it takes to have the crown. In the end it was decided that all children must be watched closely and deliberately in order to make the best decision. Oldest to youngest every child fought, unknowingly, for the power of the land.

BEN

Ben’s story was the strangest to the people of the land. Some did not even feel he should be considered for the throne due to him not being blood. Ben was abandoned as a child by his father and the queen took him in secretly, having been friends with the child’s father. She took him in at 7 years old and he instantly loved her more than his own family. She showed him love and kindness, while being firm and fair. She did not have a child of her own, so she was often hesitant to officially call him hers, but after the king heard news of the boy, he was elated to help his wife raise the child. The King gave the boy and the Queen the push to officially create and start their family even if the child was not either of their blood. The Boy grew into a man and a charming one at that. With his birth father being a sorcerer, he was able to perform magic the land had never seen. He treated the other siblings as his own even if some did not see him in the same light. He did his responsibilities with ease and poise.

As he grew into a man and a noble, the land became split when rumors of his crowning came to surface. Half the land saw him as the perfect contender for the role of king. He was good to the people but firm in his beliefs of what is best for the land. He dished out judgement in a way that seemed regal and fair, even when he was sentencing someone to death, there was an air of calm finality around him and his subjects. He stood tall, his sandy gold hair standing out against the dark of his siblings, and his face showed no cruelty, but he looked as if he was made to be a king, instead of an abandoned child taken into a new world. The term golden boy seemed coined just for him.

However, there were others, the countering half of the land that fell into the arms of tradition. Him not being related in blood seemed to create a bigger problem than expected. People felt he couldn’t rule a land he wasn’t born in or born to understand. The cursed his name whenever people even mentioned his status to the throne. These objectors weren’t silent either, they loudly jeered and scorned him with distaste. When his name was called at revelry’s and royal events underneath the cheers and praise were the boo’s and hateful jabs. He took them with a smile. He was approachable and while some saw that as a sign of good fortune for the land others saw it as disrespectful and the acts of a common man instead of a king. For yes there was a no, for every good dead there was a twisted scandal behind. Prince Ben could not breath without someone begging for his fortune and attention or trying to trap him into a wrong word or step. When he started to notice the small seeds of him being king start to get planted by the council he started to panic. He knew many would never accept him as king, and if half the land won’t accept him how was he supposed to rule with a knife at his neck at every turn. He decided to take matters into his own hands the day he found out the whispers were growing into assumptions.

Ben knew he would do whatever is best for the people, but he had to keep himself alive and in the land’s good favors in order to do so. He had to step away from the throne for awhile but in a way that wouldn’t make him look like a cowered or as if he was running away. He prepared for the party that was going on that night with shaking hands. He decided to dress in lavish gold and baby blues, With a swirling patterns of the colors on his vest with a white frilly shirt underneath and breeches to match. He wore golden boots that reached just underneath his knees and a gold cape held to his right side with a lion head brooch that had diamond eyes to match the teeth of its roar. He placed the silver ring of a crown on his head indicating his title of prince. The royal family would wear their weapon of choice to these events as an accessory, but since he relied on magic as his weapon he settled on a pair of gold gloves that had diamonds accentuating his fingertips where his nails would be seen. He made sure his hair stood up above his crown, his signature quieff hairstyle on display, the golden strands slicked up and shining. As he looked at his work in the mirror, he couldn’t help but frown. He liked what he saw he just didn’t like how much he looked a king waiting to accept his crown. He had a split second where he considered changing into something less but voted against it. He had already made himself up he wasn’t going back on that now.

The merriment of the party was in full swing as he entered, his name and horns blaring in his ear upon announcement.

“I present to you” The royal guard announced while giving him a wink, she had once set him up with her daughter and still held hope he would find some interest once again, Ben knew he wouldn’t but smiled at her anyway, “Prince Ben, Oldest of the high queen and king, Prince of the court of Mystics , runner up to the throne” Ben cringed deeply at her last statement, those kinds of titles and statement were only spoken by those who have already pledged their loyalty, and he was sure she would be disappointed once he made his announcement and proposal to his mother and father, the king and queen. He heard whispers and saw glares and adoring eyes. He saw the ears of his siblings raise, their noses twitches and their eyes look at him in accusation. They would disregard him soon enough. He kept his head high and smile easy as he sauntered over to the golden dais that held his family. As he walked, he could feel everyone’s gaze it didn’t matter that he came later than the others. The way he was dressed, the way he walked, and his demeanor all suggested he was on time and that everyone else was just early for his arrival. He stepped up to his mother and kissed her cheek lightly. He turned to his father and gave him a fist bump (which Ben had started doing after one of his visits to the mortal world). He took his spot closest to the throne next to his brother Ezren who did very little to hide the distaste from his curled lip.

“That was quite the introduction” Ben did not even bother to look over to his sister Liriel, she never liked being outdone or outshined and Ben was certain she did not like his name being followed up with ‘runner up’ when it came to the throne. She wanted the choice to be unanimous when it came to who should be crowned and she wanted the unanimous decision to be her. She had always considered Ben beneath her. It did not matter, however. Soon enough she’d be one step closer to the crown. As final announcements and introductions of other courts were finished the king and queen began to greet subjects who felt their problems were big enough to bring to the throne. The princes and princesses began to depart and get lost in the crowd of guests and nobles. Ben could handle his drink, he was, after all, no mere mortal but one with great power and lineage, even if that lineage left him to die. Still some tried to get him eat strange drinks and powders and fruit that should make him loose his mind. Ben never minded, he became used to the folk underestimating him, it was how he preferred it so he would often eat it anyway and just pretend to be mad with happiness and giddy joy. This made his nights more interesting and more of a time to collect secrets rather than a time for parties, however tonight he kept his lips and tongue clean. His siblings all had fun with their groups and newfound strangers. All except Ezren. Always so serious. He kept his eyes on Ben a jealous fire in his eyes as ben kissed hands, twirled maidens and laughed with nobles. Ben had always told Ezren he’d be more favorable for the crown if he spent more of his time with the people rather than watching his siblings every move. But Ezren didn’t trust any of them except Liriel. So, he sat and watched ready to intercept at any time his siblings make a fool of themselves. Ben never truly cared however, he could hold his own and then some.

As the party died down, and that means people were beginning to fall over drunk and delusional, Ben made his way to the dais where his parents sat whispering and laughing to each other. His dad’s tail flicked back and forth for a bit then came to wrap around his mother’s wrist. Ben knew what that meant, when his father’s rail started wrap around his mothers limbs, either he was nervous for her or he was getting ready to bed her and from the look on his face Benn had a good idea it was the latter. He rushed to the top before their thrones and both the king and queen looked up in surprise at his sudden rush towards them.

“Mother, Father” he gave a short bow with each greeting.

“Ben, what is this, is something wrong, shouldn’t you be enjoying the revilers?” That was his father’s code for ‘Unless someone is dying you better make this quick’ and not in a ‘I can’t be bothered way’ but a ‘I’m gonna fuck your mom so make this quick’ sort of way.

“Yes, everything is fine but I wanted to make an announcement, a proposal of sorts, to the two of you and I feel everyone should hear too” His mother side eyed him, unsure if his plans. It was no secret Ben loved Jude the most since he was young. When he was seven and first came into her care, he’d sing her name at night and cry when she had to leave for royal duties and no nanny could console him until her return. His mother knew him better than anyone and he told her everything, everything except his plans for tonight. It made since she was suspicious, since that has always been her nature anyway.

“Does it have to be right now-“Jude elbowed cardan interrupting him.

“Of course you can give your…announcement” His mother trusted him, she just didn’t like not knowing what he was planning. Ben smiled at them and his father gave a slight eyeroll as he kicked his legs up on the side of his throne and waved his hand as a gesture saying ‘get on with it’. Ben took a step down from the dais so that he was in between steps. He turned to the crowd and spread his hands gaining the attention of few but not nearly all.

“High courts, gentry, royals and friends!” he shouted merriment laced in his voice. “I, Prince Ben, Oldest son of the High King and Queen” he looked at Ezren as he spoke those words, smirked then looked back at the crowd “Have an announcement, a proclamation for my parents and the high court,” He turned towards the thrones where the king and queen sat, but his voice resonated as if he was speaking to every single person in the room individually. “Mother, Father, all of Fae knows of the rumors of your choosing for the throne, I am not here to throw my hat in the ring, as the mortals say, but to instead withdraw myself from the line” Gasps fill the room and cries and uproars, he feels someone might have even fainted. “Instead I ask you give me another role, a new role, title, that I have made for myself. I wish to travel the lands of Fae, sea, mortal lands, and the unknown in search of allies, magic, emptied lands, treasures and advances. I wish to not own the crown but help it thrive and advance. I swear my service to it and my loyalty.” By the end of his proposal he is down on one knee head bent to the ground. He raises his eyes and sees his mother is shocked but hiding it with a steady look. His father has a smirk and looks as if he trying to keep from laughing meaning he either sees this as some joke or is nervous about what his son’s statements mean. Ben always had a feeling His mother saw him as one of the main royals reaching for the throne and probably assumed that that was what Ben had wanted. Ben just hoped she wasn’t upset with his decision. The room was silent awaiting The High King and High Queen’s reaction.

His father broke the silence with a laugh “Blood or not you definitely got the dramatics of this family, here we thought you were about to announce some coup or something, pull a Balekin part two!”

“I didn’t think that” His mother said with a smirk, low enough only Ben and Cardan could hear. Cardan whispered something to his queen as Ben stayed on one knee. He saw from the top of his vision Jude give a curt nod, and His father stood up.

“My son,” he said with a sigh “Your proposal sounds…exactly and perfectly fit for you” Ben stood up as an uproar went up filled with cheers and surprised shouts. He looked over and saw the head of the guard look at him with betrayal on her face. Seems she realized she backed the wrong prince. “However,” The High King continued “I don’t know where all this talk of crowning a new ruler came from, but perhaps…” Cardan turned to look at Jude then back at the crowd “It might be time to consider and keep watch of who that will one day be, and keep in mind Ben, just because you want withdrawal now doesn’t mean you can’t come back to reconsider before it’s too late” Ben could feel the eyes of all his siblings even the ones who care far less about these ordeals. Ben had just moved a piece in an eight-player game of chess, the piece that not only started the game but caught the attention of the other players. It didn’t matter to Ben; he was taking himself out of the game enough to still come back a hero if he really wanted to, and according to his father, still a chance to come back as king if he ever changed his mind. Ben had all the freedom to do what he wanted, and none of the others could do the same without looking like followers to him, and they all knew it. None of them could pull off what he put in motion, now that it was already done. Ben turned to his father.

“Thank you, I will remember your words as I begin and endure my travels, but for now I plan to enjoy my first night with my new title and status and worry about the details tomorrow”. The high king smiled and nodded, then step back to his wife. Ben turned to his mother and her eyes questioned him while her lips pulled into a smirk. She rose from her throne and stood in front of him and gave him a seemingly innocent hug, but Ben knew better when she pulled him down to whisper in his ear.

“For once I don’t know what you’re planning, but remember this, the throne, this new title, your siblings’ ambition, are nothing to play around with, you’ve always been smart Ben don’t let this battle change that.” She pulled away and looked into his eyes, probably hoping to find some genuine emotion there in them.

“Don’t worry about me mother” he kissed her cheek “I know my place” with that he stepped down from the dais into the crowd with his head high and gold cape flowing behind him, yes, no one could deny he looked like a king that night, the same night he seemingly gave up the throne. Ezren watched from afar eyes secretly filled with unnerving satisfaction. Ben ignored him and the questions of the nobles that approached him and grabbed a drink he knew was supposed to make him crazy with faiery lust, he downed it feeling nothing. He was never the trickster type but he did have his secrets, secrets he would take with him on his upcoming travels, secrets that would only be reveled upon his inevitable return.

#the folk of the air #Jude #Jude Duarte #Cardan #Cardan Greenbrier #Cardan Duerta #Jurdan #Jude X Cardan #Cardan x Jude #Holly Black #The Race to the crown #Taryn Duarte #Court of Shadows #how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories #OOC

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found

Request: Hello, I’ve never requested any type of imagine so I’m sorry if this request sucks. I just love the way you write post-Azkaban Sirius and I was wondering if you could write something about reader getting pregnant just before he was sent to Azkaban and never got to tell him, fast forward to 1993 and how Sirius reacts to finding out about his son/daughter. Hope this made sense!

A/N: Here’s your request! I really enjoyed writing this, and I kind of used a different format that I've only used once or twice so I hope it reads okay! There's a flashback in this and it’s in italics! Thank you so much for requesting. As always, I hope you like!!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, pregnancy, first meetings, a gross overuse of commas and semi-colons BUT THERE IS A HAPPY ENDING!!!

Word count: 4.7k

1981:

The front door slamming shut wakes you from your slumber. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but Sirius had left so late in the night; you wanted to wait up and see what the hurry was.

He storms into the living room; boots heavy on the floor. His hands run through his hair rapidly and he shakes his head repeatedly as if he can’t come to terms with whatever’s happened.

But then he stops his pacing.

He holds a hand up to his mouth.

And he begins to sob.

He bends in two; sobbing and sobbing, unable to catch his breath from the power of his cries.

You fly off the couch, rushing to him. Wrapping him in your arms, you sink to the ground where he stands, unable to walk to the couch for the sheer emotion taking over him.

It feels like hours before his sobs calm enough for him to get the words out.

In between his sniffles, Sirius manages to choke out, “James and Lily have been killed. Harry taken by Dumbledore.”

Your tears join Sirius’. You think of the family torn apart tonight; you think of the broken hearted man sat at your side. The family he had found for himself ripped from him in less than fifteen minutes.

It was incomprehensible.

They were only twenty-one; they were protected, and they were planning for their future. They had a fifteen month old son who needed his mother and father now more than ever, but he wouldn’t have that.

They had the world at their feet.

And in a single instant, it all changed.

----------

The test come backs positive, and it makes you cry harder.

A shaky hand places itself on your lower abdomen where in nine months, a bump would surely be.

You blink away the tears that are making it hard to see.

You stare at the wall; listening to the nothingness of the empty house you now sat in.

******

The sun was shining when Sirius made the decision that would impact both of your lives forever. The sun was shining when Sirius left the house with you still in bed.

At the front door, he hesitated for a single instant. He hesitated because he didn’t know what was going to happen to you after he does what need to. He hesitated because he so desperately wanted to crawl back into bed with you, but as he closed the front door ever so quietly behind him, he knew he wouldn’t get such a luxury for a while.

Sirius hadn’t been home all day; you had woken without him, but that wasn’t entirely unusual. What was unusual was his constant absence as the day progressed, and soon enough, dread floods your veins.

Remus shows up on your doorstep at some point in the afternoon; looking very much as if he hadn’t slept in days. He paces the kitchen with you; Sirius hadn’t told him the exact details of his plan – just that he was going to right a wrong, and that hadn’t sat right with Remus at all; no matter how much he desired retribution for the death of his friends and the orphan now in the care of his muggle relatives.

You yelp in panic when there’s a knock at the door; mind already thinking the worst.

Opening the door, you find that your mind is correct.

Two Aurors stand there; both with sombre looks on their faces.

You don’t hear what they say wholly; you only hear bits and pieces as your hearing zones in and out.

You hear, ‘Sirius’, ‘Azkaban’, ‘no trial’ and with no words of apology, the two Aurors leave your doorstep.

It’s Remus who catches you when you fall to the floor, sobs heaving from your chest.

******

The nausea rises with the end of your memory. You haul yourself over the toilet, emptying your stomach. You rest your head on the cool surface of the porcelain before dragging yourself to the sink to wash your mouth out.

An appointment at the Healers was needed, it seemed.

-------

The ultrasound jelly is cool as it is spread on your stomach; you shiver from the feeling and the nurse smiles at you apologetically.

“How are we feeling?” She asks kindly, setting up the machine.

You bite your lip, “I’m really nervous actually.”

She chuckles, “All new mothers are, but you’ll find the fathers are the most nervous.”

You want to laugh, but instead you smile wanly.

Using her wand, the nurse hovers it over your lower abdomen, moving it right to left and back again as she scans there.

A few clicks on a button later, she says, “There we are! You look to be about twelve weeks already,” She continues to move her wand, “Baby looks healthy, and is a good size. Would you like to see?”

You nod wordlessly. The nurse smiles at you as she turns the monitor your way.

And for the first time, you get a glimpse of the little baby.

You hold one hand to your mouth, and the other stretches out to touch the screen.

The nurse stands, “I’ll give you a moment. I’ll be back in a few minutes, dear.”

You let a few tears fall as you shuffle closer to the screen, wiping the ultrasound jelly off with the tissue from the side. Your hands grab both sides of the monitor, pulling it to you even closer.

There – the little blip on the screen. The little blip that was your baby.

-----

Remus lives in a flat within walking distance of Diagon Alley. After your appointment, you head there, struggling to hold back more tears threatening to make an appearance.

You climb the stairs to his floor; finding his flat easily enough.

Raising your fist, you knock on the door repeatedly – getting faster and louder the longer Remus takes to answer the door.

Remus yanks open the door to his flat, ready to shout at whoever is making that much racket so early in the morning. His words die in his mouth when he sees that it’s you and that you’re so close to tears.

You brush past him, striding into his flat and into his kitchen where you promptly fill up the kettle and set it on the stove to heat up. Watching for a flame, you know that Remus is going to need caffeine to hear the news.

“(Y/N)?” Remus asks warily from behind you, “Are you okay, love?”

“No, Remus. I’m not, but I can’t tell you until you have a coffee in your hand. And Remus, I love you like a brother, but will you please put on some trousers.”

Remus glances down at his clothing; only just realising that he’s stood in his boxers. He chuckles and leaves you to get dressed; pulling on some jeans and a Henley he finds in a drawer. As he’s getting changed, you make him a coffee and yourself a tea.

You sigh, thinking to yourself that this would be the last time you have caffeine for a long while.

Remus ambles back into the kitchen fully dressed and takes a seat the breakfast counter, “So what was so important it had you waking me up?”

Your fingers tap out a nameless song on your mug as you announce, “I’m pregnant.”

Remus knocks over his mug, sending it and the coffee inside flying across the kitchen. He leaps up from his spot, swearing up a storm as he grabs a tea towel to clean the mess up.

You stand to side, letting him finish cleaning. He’s done in a matter of moments; turning back to you with happiness and pity reflected on his face.

“You’re pregnant?” He asks.

You nod, “Had it confirmed today. They even did an ultrasound.”

You grab the picture of your baby from your bag, handing it to Remus with a shaking hand.

Remus grabs your hand as he looks at the ultrasound. There, in front of him, is a little blob that’s the baby of you and Sirius.

“What are you going to do?” He questions – his voice no louder than a whisper.

You run a hand through your hair, “I’m keeping it if that’s what you’re asking.”

Remus nods, “Are you sure though?”

“I’m sure. It’s half Sirius. We had talked about having children the month before James and Lily were killed.”

“So you’re going to be a mum?”

You laugh, tears shining in your eyes, “I’m going to be a mum.”

------

The pregnancy is tough without Sirius by your side. You find yourself asking for his opinion on everything – from the cot, to the colour of the nursery walls, to the name.

Then you remember he isn’t there, and he won’t ever be.

Remus, however, steps up. He isn’t there to be a father to the child, but he makes damn sure he is there for every appointment and to assemble every piece of furniture.

It’s Remus who holds your hand through the labour, and it’s Remus who hands you your son.

1987:

James begins to get curious about his father’s whereabouts on the approach to his sixth birthday. Question after question leaves his mouth – why didn’t he have a dad? Why were you alone? Did you feel lonely? Do you miss his father?

Eventually, the inquisition from the youngster becomes too much, and you give in on a Friday evening.

James sits on your knee, already invested in the story long before you even start.

“Are you comfy?” You ask.

You laugh at his eager nod.

“I met your father at Hogwarts when we were sorted into the same house. We weren’t friends then, but I knew who he was; it was hard to miss him – he was very loud.

“We became friends three years later in our Fourth Year; your father sat next to me in a lesson and pestered me until I would be his friend. I’m very happy he pestered me now.

“We fell in love in Sixth Year,” You break off, chuckling at your son’s crinkled nose, “Well we did, honey. There wasn’t anything else after that. I loved your father and he loved me.

“When we graduated Hogwarts, we moved into this very house and started to make it a home. Our friends, Lily and James, had a baby and both your father and I were named godparents – we had to protect the baby if anything happened to them.

“James and Lily died after that and it was very sad for both of us but especially for your father as James was his closest friend in the entire world. Your father left the house to make those who hurt his friends apologise, and it led to him having to go away for a very long time.”

“How long?”

“A very long time, my love.”

“Where is he? Maybe we could visit?”

“I don’t think we can. He’s in Azkaban, sweets.”

James’ eyebrows crinkle together, “The place where bad witches and wizards go.”

You nod, “The very same, but your father isn’t a bad wizard. He just made a bad choice one day.”

You finish talking, choked up with emotion. James pats your cheek with a small hand, and you squeeze your son a little tighter; wondering when he had grown into such a caring child.

James thinks over your story; plays it through in his head. He had seen other children his age playing with their dads and wondered why he didn’t have one. He was very happy with you, and loved you very much, but still, he wondered.

“But we still love him, right?” James asks.

You pause; thinking over his question, “I think I’ll always love him, James. He’s your dad.”

“Can I see a picture of him?”

You nod, not expecting this question. Patting his side, you tell him to get off so you can climb to the attic to find one. James follows you all the way; his little legs struggling on the steep stairs to the attic.

He finds you rooting through an old, dusty trunk, chuntering to yourself as you try to find what you were looking for.

“Got it!” You shout, pulling a framed photograph out from underneath some old clothing.

You run a finger over the picture; looking at faces you never thought you would see again. James, Lily, Marlene… Sirius. They all smile up at you as the camera flashes; permanently sealing the memory within the photograph.

You wrap an around James’ shoulder, pointing down at the photograph. “Tell me, do you recognise anyone at all?”

James gasps, “Is that you? And Uncle Remus?” His small finger points at the two figures he recognises the most; Remus as he went through his long hair phases that truly didn’t last long after the photo was taken, and yourself, standing straight-backed and proud next to Sirius whose arm was on your lower back.

You laugh, “That is me and your Uncle Remus, yes,” You point to the two figures in the front, “That’s James and Lily – two of my closest friends.”

“Is that who I’m named after?”

You nod, “It is. James was your father’s best friend; he even lived with him for a brief time. When I found out I was having you, there was no doubt in my mind that you were to be James.”

“Which one is my dad?”

You sigh, shifting your finger so it hovers over Sirius’ permanently handsome face, “This is your father.”

James takes the picture from your hands, holding it closer to his face as if he could get a better look at the man who should have been raising him beside you.

“Do I look like him?” He asks in a small, vulnerable voice.

You smile, pushing the dark hair back from his face, “In all the best ways, sweetheart.”

1993:

Tears fall freely as you flatten your son’s hair. “Mum,” he gripes, “It’s fine.”

“I’m just going to miss you,” You sniffle, dabbing at your eyes with your handkerchief.

“I’m going to miss you too, but we can write to each other and we’ll see each other on the holidays. It’s going to be okay, mum.”

You caress his face, wondering when your son had grown up, “When did you become so wise?”

He rolls his eyes, “I always have been.”

“Okay,” You start, taking a step back, “Do you have everything you need?”

He checks over his belongings one last time, “I’ve got everything.”

“And you’re going to be okay?”

“I’m going to be okay,” He promises.

“And you’re going to write me a letter the moment you get to your dorm room to tell me what house you’re in?”

“I promise.”

“Okay then,” You drop one last kiss to your son’s cheek before sending him off to the train, “I’ll miss you!” You shout.

He sticks his head out of the window of his compartment, unashamed of showing his feelings, “I’ll miss you too! I love you!”

You wave and wave as the red and black steam train departs from Kings Cross, carrying your son all the way to the highlands of Scotland where he’ll roam the corridors as you once did with his father.

-------

Remus is the first to alert you of Sirius’ escape from Azkaban. He apparates from Hogsmeade one weekend; his first words when you open to the door to him being, “He’ll come here, you know that right?”

You let him into your house. He trails after you, checking for signs that Sirius hasn’t already landed on your doorstep.

You hand him a mug of coffee from the fresh pot on the side, “I know that Remus, but I think he’ll go find Harry first. He doesn’t know about James.”

“I know that, but he’ll come back for you. Are you ready for that?”

“I’ll be ready when I need to be and that’s that. I wasn’t ready for my son or for his father to be imprisoned but he was, and I dealt with.”

“Magnificently if I say so myself,” Remus comments with a smile.

“You’re a flatterer, Remus Lupin.”

He laughs but it does nothing to hide the worried light in his eyes, “Send me an owl every week please? Let me know you’re okay.”

You nod, “I will. And you do the same for me; keep an eye on my son, Remus. It’s his first year.”

Remus sits back in his chair, “He’s in my class. He refuses to call me Professor, preferring to answer questions with ‘Yes, Uncle Remus’,” Remus chuckles, “Eleven years already. I remember him being born.”

“You should – you were there.”

He chuckles, “I had to be present for the birth of my godson didn’t I?”

You laugh, reaching through it all, “You were great through it all. I never worried about a thing, I had you next to me.”

“It should have been Sirius,” He sighs.

“You’re right, but it wasn’t. And I don’t regret that for one moment.”

-------

The knock at your front door is your only preparation really. An owl from Remus warned you that Sirius had left Scotland and was heading south. Harry had helped him escape certain death, and a surge of pride and gratefulness makes its way through your body – thankful for the godson you hadn’t seen since he was a toddler pottering about on shaky legs.

“Remus told me you would come,” is your greeting to man you hadn’t seen in over a decade.

“Remus is a very smart man.”

“Isn’t he?”

You stand aside, letting the man you’ve loved for most of your life enter the house he once shared with you.

You make your way to the living room; his footsteps sounding behind you. Your heart races with every possibility running through your mind – it had been hard to avoid the news of his escape, and you wondered how long it would take him to come to you. You were just thankful that James hadn’t felt the need to find his father himself; the sensible head on his shoulders telling him to wait and come back safely home to you.

Sirius steps further into your living room; his eyes dancing around the room he had spent so much time decorating. He smiles to himself; remembering the paint fight you had – he had splattered you with the brush causing you to retaliate by painting a long white stripe down the right side of his face.

It’s hard to miss the photos lining the walls or the mantle piece. His eyes dance over the framed photograph of the Order in favour of the smaller photograph next to it. A polaroid in a frame; taken by Remus on the day that James was born – it’s of you, hours after his birth with your hair still a mess but you’re smiling at the camera, looking elated.

Sirius turns to you; his mouth wide open, ready to say something but then he notices the other photographs of James on the wall – him at three years old; him at five years old sat on Remus’ lap; him at seven on his birthday, blowing out the candles on his chocolate cake.

You watch him from the side, absorbing everything.

Sirius does the maths in his head, and then his eyes finally settle on you.

Betrayal.

Hurt.

Longing.

They flash through his eyes and across his face in a matter of seconds before understanding finally settles there.

“Why don’t we talk about this over a cup of tea?” You ask; ready to have the conversation that should have been had twelve years ago.

“When did you find out?” Sirius counters, and you sigh, clearly not to be sorted over a cup of tea then.

“About two months after you’d gone. I was a month along when you went away so neither of us would have known,” You sigh once more, rubbing your temples in a circular motion, “I should have worked out a way to tell you…”

Sirius shakes his head, “No. You shouldn’t. It would have made things even harder in there.”

“How bad was it?” You ask; your voice a whisper.

Sirius’ face pales; lips thinning, “It’s not something I would wish on my worst enemies.”

You nod your head; not wanting to dwell on the tortuous subject any longer, “Would you like to meet him?”

Sirius’ eyes widen, “Are you sure?”

“He’s your son, Sirius. I’ve never hidden that fact from him. He’s only grown more curious over time.”

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Ridiculous. He doesn’t know you, but in time, he will.”

“You’re willing to give me that?”

You nod, “Sirius, love, if you hadn’t have gone away, we would be raising him together.”

“Did you ever find anyone else?”

“It’s hard to date when you’re a single parent, Sirius.”

He rolls his eyes.

“No,” You clarify, “There has been no-one for me but the father of my child.”

“I want to be in your lives – yours and his,” He states, “If you’ll have me.”

“I never stopped waiting.”

Tears line his eyes, making the grey even more striking. “Come on, let’s introduce you to your son,” you say, holding a hand out to the man you would never stop loving.

Together, you climb the stairs to your son’s room. Knocking lightly, you ask, “Love, am I okay to come in? I have someone I want you to meet.”

“It’s open, mum,” His voice rings out and you hear Sirius’ sharp intake of breath at the first time hearing his son’s voice.

Your grip on Sirius’ hand only tightens as you open the door.

James sits on his bed; his face the picture of curiosity. He leaps up when he sees the man standing behind you.

“Mum?”

“Honey, this is your father, Sirius Black. Sirius, this is your son, James Regulus (Y/L/N).”

“Regulus?” Sirius asks; his eyes never leaving his sons.

You nod, “I miss him too.”

Sirius takes a tentative step forward, dropping your hand. He stretches the hand that dropped yours out to his son.

James glances in a circuit between the outstretched hand of his father, his father, and you. With a gentle nod, you convey to James that it’s okay.

James steps forward and folds his hand into Sirius’, shaking twice before letting it drop.

Sirius coughs, “It’s nice to meet you at last.”

James nods; posture standoffish.

You glance between them, “I know. Why don’t we move downstairs so we can about this over a cup of tea?”

“A cup of tea mum? Really?”

“A cup of tea can put the world-”

“To right. Yes, I know,” James chuckles, “Let’s go.”

“Your mother used to say the same thing at Hogwarts and after,” Sirius states; watching his son’s figure make its way downstairs.

James pauses on the stairs for a moment before carrying onto the kitchen where he fills the kettle and drops three tea bags in three pots.

Sirius lingers in the doorway to the kitchen; everything has changed but everything hasn’t too. There was still the mark on the ceiling where him and James got too eager with a jinx, and the cracked vase from him and Remus throwing a ball about was still on the windowsill.

“Sugar? Milk?” His son asks; holding both up for Sirius to choose from.

“Both please.”

James nods before returning back to the drinks at hand.

He hands you your drink first before sliding Sirius’ cup to a spot at the breakfast bar. Sirius shuffles over to it, sitting down in the spot the drink is placed at. James remains standing, leaning on the counter, ready to leave should he need it.

“Mum told me about you when I was younger,” James comments.

Sirius glances at you. You take a nonchalant drink of your tea, shrugging, “He asked. I wasn’t going to keep it a secret all his life.”

“What did you say?”

“How you two met and why you weren’t around,” James states, staring down at his drink, “I didn’t think I would ever get to see you. I’d come to terms with it and then I see your face all over the newspapers in my first year at Hogwarts.”

“Yes, I’m sure that was a surprise.”

James shrugs; not knowing what else to say to the man that had been absent for the first eleven years of his life.

Sirius stands from the stool, making his way to James where he cautiously puts both hands on his shoulders. James wants to avoid eye contact with his father, but Sirius manages to keep his hold, “I’ve already spoken to your mother about this, but the decision comes down to you, James. I want to be in your lives. What happened all those years ago was not supposed to happen and I paid the price for over a decade. If your mother had known she was pregnant with you, I would have stayed and I would have raised you, but that didn’t happen. James, I’d like to get to know you, but I wholeheartedly understand if you do not want to know me.”

James processes the words his father says. His eyes dart to you for help, and all he can see reflected in your face is love for the both of you and pride for how he’s handling this.

He has wanted to know his father for so long; didn’t think he would ever be handed the chance to meet him let alone get to know him. Yet, now that he’s here, standing in front of him, he feels conflicted as to what he should do.

James continues to glance between you and Sirius; the gears in his mind whirring away. Sirius begins to lose hope when his son starts to nod.

“I want to get to know you too.”

1994:

You felt at one with the parents standing on the platform. It wasn’t going to get easier to send your child off for their education for nine months of the year.

“I’ll write as soon as I’m settled!” Your son promises; shouting from his window where he sits with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He waves and waves as the train pulls away; you do just the same, remaining on the platform until the Hogwarts Express has chugged out of sight, taking your son with it.

An arm wrapping around your waist, and a kiss being pressed to the crown of your head keeps your grounded in the aftermath.

“It’ll be October before you know it.”

You sniffle, nodding, “I know, I just can’t believe he’s gone again.”

Sirius grip tightens on you, “If this is what it felt like the first time, I can’t imagine how you did it on your own.”

“I was a mess,” You laugh, “Sobbing and crying and everything.”

Sirius chuckles, “It’ll fly by won’t it?” – he asks for his own peace of mind.

It’s been less than a six months since he broke out of Azkaban to find out he was a father to a gangly teenaged boy. In that time, a relationship has been formed, and whilst he found himself loving his son as a father should, he knew that the trust built was as fragile as glass – one wrong move and it shatters.

In that time, he had fallen in love with you all over again. He had never stopped, but the love he felt for you in Azkaban was different from the love he felt for you now. In Azkaban, you felt like a dream – like a ghost haunting him with a past he couldn’t be sure was real; it had him feeling like he were the main love interest in a Bronte novel.

Now, however, his love for you shone out of every pore in his body. The horrors he faced in Azkaban paled when he rolled over in bed to find you sleeping peacefully next to him.

Sirius stands on the platform beside you, gazing at the absence of the train. He thinks of how his son had hugged him briefly before boarding the train; at how much that meant to Sirius, that in those few moments, his son had whispered ever so quietly that he would miss him, but he would see him soon.

Sirius thinks of all that he has lost and found, and with one look at you, he knows he has found enough.

*********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton

Sirius Black taglist: @approved-by-dentists @fific7 @susceptible-but-siriusexual

#sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black oneshot #sirius black fanfic #Sirius orion black #sirius x reader #sirius black angst #angst #sirius black reader insert #sirius black fluff #sirius fluff #fluff #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #sirius black imagine #imagine #my writing #sirius black x female reader #x reader

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hpdabbles · 3 years

Text

Secret Sweater Sweetheart

"Who exactly is R. Lupin?" Sirius demanded standing in his brother's doorway. He attempted to imitate Uncle Alphard, when the man was displeased, hoping the wide stance with the cross arms gave the same feeling of guilt.

If there was one thing he learned after his uncle gain guardship over them was that Uncle Alphard could weaponize guilt like no other. Sirius had never felt bad about letting down an authority figure until the man stood before him in the position.

"What?" Regulus's words slur as he tries to blink the sleep out of his eyes. Not a surprise seeing as Sirius made sure to wait until their uncle went to bed before comforting his little brother.

The man just happened to stay up until three in the morning but needs must.

"You heard me. R. Lupin. Who is he?" Sirius grabs the offensive clothing he discovered while his brother had been away earlier that day. It had been pushed under Regulus's bed, towards the wall, next to a potions textbook and a ripped sock. Sirius had seen it when he went about, picking up all the random clothes threw through the mess of a bedroom.

Despite adoring Kreacher in their old home, Regulus had never been tidy and the fact their uncle didn't believe in owning house-elves meant the brothers had to clean up after themselves. Sirius did the house laundry every Wednesday, which just so happen to be the day his little brother went to his muggle violin classes.

"Sirius, did you seriously wake me up to ask about a sweater?" The teen groans. "This is my summer break, the point of it is that I get to sleep!"

"Oh! So now you're worried about sleeping? When you sneak a boy into your room, you don't worry about sleeping then do you!?" He accused giving the hideous striped abominations a few shakes.

Regulus threw him the finger, rolling his eyes. "I didn't sneak Remus-"

"So his name is Remus!"

"-into my room. We were in muggle London, and it got cold. I forgot a coat so he lent me his sweater. That's it." The seventeen-year-old finishes not paying mind to the interruption. "We have the same violin teacher and had a class together since she doubled booked by accident"

"A likely story!" Sirius growled pacing inside the room, feeling like his animagus form that he perfected two years ago. It earned him a top score on his Transfiguration final project at Ilvermorny, enough to make him the best student of his year. A side effect of being a dog animagus was that its protective streak tended to blend into his human side. "If he wasn't a secret boyfriend why was his sweater hidden instead of returned hmm?"

"Because I thought I lost it and bought him a replacement. Hoesntly Sirius, you're making a big deal at of nothing." Regulus grumbled.

"Right, I'm making a big deal out of you calling this Remus by his first name, and keeping his sweater with his name stitched into the tag, am I?" Sirius barked, his words just the bit off of a growl "The person you happen to met once at a violin practice because your teacher double-booked?"

"I never said I met him at practice. I just happen to run into him there."

"Oh! Pardon me, I'm getting that one detail wrong. Where did you meet the secret sweetheart that you've been sneaking into the house behind Uncle's Alphad's back then?"

Regulus rubbed a hand down his face sighing as if this wasn't a valid thing to be worried about. Not only was he too young to bring boys over like this, especially with non the wiser, but if Uncle Alphard found he could become angry.

The man hasn't had a reason to seen them back to their parents yet but what if this was it. What he realized that he had made a mistake in taking in Sirius and Regulus when Sirius had come running to him all those years ago.

Yes, it's been nine years, but Sirius sometimes still wakes in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat and his mother's voice haunting his nightmares screaming Crucio again and again.

His uncle may have felt bad for him then, a sobbing ten-year-old whose rain-drenched body kept shaking from the pain, and he may have taken his parents to court just to raise them both but that didn't mean he couldn't change his mind.

Uncle Alphard is a free spirit, Magic knows he had no idea what to do with kids, so Sirius always feared one day he would grow tired of them and send them back.

He would not survive if he ever went back. The very idea of being around his birth parents or anything connecting to them sends him into such a panic he tended to stop breathing correctly.

He had a meltdown when they bought his first wand because Ollivander made the mistake of telling him it was the perfect kind for a future Slytherin. A Slytherin, just like them.

Hogwarts was not an option for him.

Uncle Alphard had instead arranged for Sirius to study overseas, while Regulus requested to remain in Scotland. He didn't see his brother that much throughout the year but that didn't stop Sirius from fearing for his brother's chastity.

Who cares if he was technically a legal adult? Regulus is sensitive and easy to trick. Sirius knows what kind of boys tend to sniff around someone so innocent.

"Siri, seriously there is nothing going on between Remus and me. I call him by his first name because we went to Hogwarts together and were part of the same study group. I don't see him that often anymore since he graduated."

"How long ago did he graduate?" Sirius barked.

"Two years. Same as you."

"I thought your study group was kids from the Slug Club?" Sirius narrows his eyes when his brother huffs again.

"Remus was in the Slug Club."

"Then why was he studying with people two years younger? Shouldn't he been one of the smartest the school had to offer?"

"Remus was the tutor!"

"A likely story!"

Regulus threw his hands into the air "I can't talk to you when you're like this. It's way too late for you to be barging into my room like some lunatic. Look, if it bothers you that much I'm meeting up with Remus tomorrow at a cafe and you can meet him. Once you do, you'll realize why I wouldn't date the bloke, okay?"

"Oh, you bet I'm going to meet him!"

Sirius had been confident that he would scare that creep so he marched right out of his brother's room. He sleeps for a little while but once he was up at six he prepared to intimate. Grabbing the leather jacket with spikes, the knuckle braces, and the steel boots he gave his reflection a no-good hooligan a smirk, knowing the sweater-wearing violist may have a heart attack when he saw him

Regulus let him know at breakfast he would be meeting Remus at nine so Sirius left before him sending an owl to Remus Lupin, claiming the time charged to eight.

He picked the table least likely to be seen by anyone in the cafe and instructed the waitress to lead the man to him.

The asshole was late by ten minutes which did not make Sirius like him any more than he already did. Who knew you could go further than rock bottom?

"Are you Sirius Black?" A voice asks politely. Sirius turns his murderous glare upwards only to promptly chock on his spite.

A man around his age with soft brown hair, multiple face scars, and a jean jacket raised an eyebrow at him. He was smoking a cigrate, that somehow went nicely with the steel tip boots he was wearing.

His outfit looks raggy and mismatch, as if though the man slept on the street. The fact it was clean let him know it wasn't a homeless approaching him but rather someone who chooses to look like a mess on purpose.

He looked like a hooligan, not the type that Regulus usually goes for, but Sirius certainly did. Too bad his brother already beat him to the punch. Damn.

"Yes, I am. And you are?"

"Remus Lupin. I-"

"Are you fucking my brother?"

The bloke blinks. "No."

"Are you lying?"

Lupin frowns at him in a way that promises pain. Sirius feels a shiver run up his spine that is bother fear and anticipation. "No."

"Alright. Just know I'm on to you, secret sweater sweetheart." Of course the other would lie. Sirius isn't that dumb.

"What did you just call me?" Lupin looked utterly bewildered as the dangerous tone of his voice disappearing in his confusion.

"Sit. We have much to discuss."

It was an hour later when Regulus arrived that Sirius noticed the time went by faster than he thought it would. Somehow, the two ended up talking about themselves instead of Remus' relationship with Regulus, caught up in the pleasant company Remus turn out to be.

Sirius hasn't had this much fun with another person in so long he almost forgot to intimate him. He would just have to see the Gryffindor again it seemed.

#Hpdabbles #Secret Sweater Sweetheart #Wolfstar #Misunderstandings #Sirius is a protective brother #Remus is just confused #Regulus just wants to sleep #Au where Uncle Alphard took in the Black brothers

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urisk-factor · 3 years

Text

Ok I wanted to throw out a few of my own Heartless Headcannons, entirely the Jury, mostly Dock. TW for blood, mentions of animal testing, dead corpses, rats, organs, violence, and stuff that Dock would do. I'm just gonna tag this as body horror because I guess that counts. Oh and I headcannon Dock and Alastor as married too, sorry (not sorry), I don't make the rules.

Dock once, a month or two after graduating from medical school, got really drunk and blacked out. In the morning, he found a giant teddy bear and a human body in his room, with the organs from the human in the teddy, and the stuffing from the teddy in the human. He has no idea what happened that night and has no idea how he did it or where he got the teddy, let alone the body.

Bandy somehow knows everything before it's public. He knew that Alastor and Dock are married, he knew about Heartless, he knew about Lance's stash of "chewed items", he knew about Lorelei's black swan dress, and he knew about Diana's pet owl.

Anyways, like I said, Diana has a pet owl that she took care of since his mother left him. He's call Ben, and she likes saying stuff like "Ben killed and ate a mouse that I've been trying to shoot for weeks, he's a good boy, bless his heart" to people she's just met but have warmed up to enough to speak.

Lorelei sometimes calls Dock her "skirt buddy" to annoy him and he just accepts it.

Dock really hates animal testing, and once beat a guy to an inch of his life for testing drugs on rats. He took the rats and he still has them. They're old and well looked after.

Alastor once got so annoyed with a guy who was somehow bigger than Dock that he climbed up Dock's cloak, sat himself on Dock's shoulders, and started berating the man. Lorelei, Lance, and Bandy got in on video camera.

Their curses come from heavily repressed magic.

Their ages are Lance and Bandy at twenty-nine (29), Lorelei at thirty-two (32), Diana at thirty-seven (37), Alastor at thirty-nine (39), and Dock at fourty-three (43).

Dock's real name isn't actually Dock, but is instead Daniel Harrowmoore. Daniel Harrowmoore may or may not be wanted for arson. All Dock will say is that it was an accident.

Diana is somewhere between craving physical touch and hating physical touch at all times.

They leave notes on the fridge. The only ones who can read Dock's atrocious hand writing (it's the doctor hand writing) is Alastor because he's so familiar with doctor hand writing, and Diana because she made a code for it.

Following on from that last one, Lance once wrote "okay I am convinced that you're not even writing words anymore" under one of Dock's notes.

Lorelei has handwriting so neat and curvy and pretty that it's almost as impossible to read as Dock's, not quite though.

Lance, Lorelei, and Alastor are cat people, Bandy and Diana are dog people, and Dock just really loves animals of all kinds, especially if they're considered unlucky or horrible or something.

They have this sort of truck thing, with three seets in the front, three in the back, and then the boot. In the front, Diana drives (she's the only one who can drive), Dock navigates, and Alastor sits between them and helps Dock sometimes. In the back, Lorelei, Lance, and Bandy all sing show showtunes and get on the front three's nerves.

Well that's not totally true. When Dock was in his twenties, he had a motorcycle, but it was stolen and he never got it back.

Alastor is the only one allowed to hug Dock and vice versa. They're very affectionate towards each other, with Dock often coming up behind Alastor, wrapping his arms around Alastor's chest, and wresting his head on Alastor's. Alastor is a bit more nervous but will sometimes just zoom over to Dock and cling to his side.

Alastor's coat used to be Dock's. When Alastor first met Dock, it was really cold, in the middle of a snowstorm, in a giant city, alone, at twenty-one (21), at approximately three o'clock in the morning. He was walking down the street, shivering, when Dock just happened to leave a small twenty-four hour store, saw Alastor, and just went, "yup, small, shivering, not a threat, hey I wonder if he wants this jacket? I don't need it". Dock offered it and Alastor accepted, grateful. They would meet again a few years later and Dock recognized him by the same coat.

Dock has a bad habit of working for days straight, then heading back to his room/home or wherever he sleeps and just crashes and sleeps for the rest of the week. Only a Lorelei scream can wake him.

Not really a headcannon but my mind randomly went "what if the Jury aren't witch hunters, and are instead witches, pretending to be witch hunters, to save other witches, and this whole Heartless and Co. situation was just one big misunderstanding that could easily be solved by simple communication" and I thought it was funny.

Once the paparazzi were following the Jury leaders around, to the point of it probably being a crime, so Alastor invited them into the Jury HQ and told the leaders to be as obscene and messy and dickish as possible. Dock walked in, covered head to toe in blood, with a still beating heart of unknown origins. Just imagine this giant, massive thing, probably bigger than Dock's head. So anyways, he walks in with it in his hands, walks over to the head interviewer or whatever, dumped in into his lap, and said "I hope you find it just as delicious as I do." They left incredibly quickly after that, and never even looked in the Jury's direction after that.

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blouisparadise · 3 years

Photo

Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis is pining for Harry. We hope you’ll enjoy this list. We also have a mutual pining rec list here and we will have a pining Harry rec list eventually. Happy reading!

1) Down On Your Knees, You Don’t Look So Tall | Explicit | 3445 words

Louis and Harry are friends, and best ones at that. Louis loves Harry more fiercely more than he's ever loved anyone, so he doesn't really have a problem with it when they start doing this thing. this wonderful, wonderful thing.

2) You Had Me At Hello | Explicit | 4529 words

Louis works in the shop next to Harry's cupcake shop. Louis pines after Harry until he goes into a heat and Harry finally catches up.

3) Just Like Live Wires | Explicit | 5427 words

Harry climbs into Louis’ bed when he’s cold. Louis pines.

4) Something To Live For | Mature | 5535 words

After over a century of waiting for Harry to realize they're mates, Louis gets his heart broken when his friend announces he's found his 'one' in a human girl named Teresa. Wanting only happiness for Harry, Louis accepts that it just wasn't meant to be and decides it's time to let go of the immortal life.

5) Five Times Harry Styles Was Jealous | Mature | 6184 words

Harry's jealous all the time but there were five times that definitely stand out. Five times that changed Louis and Harry's relationship.

6) On My Mind All The Time, Say You're Mine | Explicit | 9261 words

“Dude, we’re inside, and it’s night time. Those don’t look as cool as you think they do.” Louis could kick himself, he sounded so stupid, but it certainly got the guy’s attention.

It was at that unfortunate moment that he noticed several other things about this hot asshole, that he hadn’t noticed just staring from afar. First, when Louis spoke to him, his gaze was kind of unfocused behind his sunglasses, and secondly, that he had a red and white cane folded up under his arm.

“I’m… Blind,” the man chuckled, awkwardly.

Louis wanted to melt into a puddle out of pure embarrassment.

“I— am so sorry. I have to go.”

“Hey, wait, wait,” the man soothed, grabbing at Louis’ shoulders before he could get away.

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated, looking down at his shoes.

“It’s alright,” He cackled. “I get it a lot. More than you know.”

7) Let The Beating Waves Come Drag Me Down | Explicit | 9447 words

“Just try it, the worst thing that could ever happen it’s that you won’t like it” Niall had told him. And there he was, on the way to one of these pubs created for perverts, willing to break up the routine to try something new, something that terrified as much as excited him.

One night to get swept up in passion, one night to let the devil get in.

"Tonight, I’m going to make you scream of ecstasy Louis,” he said with a raspy voice full of control, making him tremble with anticipation.

8) Got It Right Such A Long Time Ago | Explicit | 9699

There are a lot of people Harry might expect to find on his doorstep at three o’clock in the afternoon these days.

It could be the delivery man, come to drop off the pair of boots Harry impulsively ordered online last week. It could be one of his neighbors, dropping by to complain about how a party he’d thrown weeks ago had clogged up the street. It could also be any number of his friends in L.A., who stop by unannounced most days to mooch off Harry’s food or whisk him away to try some new yogurt shop.

As a rule, it definitely cannot be Louis Tomlinson, although Harry’s blinked at least three times now, and it’s still Louis standing there, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a duffel bag at his feet.

9) You Know What They Say | Explicit | 10232 words

Nice guys always finish last.

10) Call If You Need Me | Explicit | 10770 words

If anyone asks later on, Louis plans to tell them that it’s all Niall’s fault.

11) Love Is Like This; Not A Heartbeat, But A Moan | Explicit | 13150 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

In which Harry loves Louis, but Louis has been cold to him ever since he presented as an omega at age fifteen.

Eight years later, Louis approaches Harry with a request, and who is Harry to deny him?

12) Just Let Me | Mature | 14714 words

The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.

13) We’re the New Romantics | Explicit | 16054 words

Alternatively, a high school au where Louis pines and Harry is not who he seems to be. Featuring peanut butter banana milkshakes, motorcycles, and first times.

14) Wait For Me (To Come Home) | Explicit | 16066 words

A future fic of time stamps where Louis finally comes to grips with a love he'd denied for too long.

15) Deflower Me | Explicit | 20154 words

Louis is a proud virgin, and no matter how much society tries to make him feel like a freak for not acting on his natural urges, he doesn't suffer from his lack of experience. He has never felt drawn to someone in a way that made him want to get involved sexually with them, and he isn't planning on rushing himself so he can get some because people think it's what he should do.

In walks Fratboy, the Serial Haunter of His (wet) Dreams, who thankfully has a little business going on that might be just what Louis needs.

16) I Wanna Be More Than Friends | Not Rated | 20721 words

The one where Harry’s an alpha with no sense of smell, Louis’ an omega who isn’t allowed to scent his best friend, and that’s all they’ll ever be. Obviously.

17) The Way The Storm Blows | Explicit | 21649 words

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

18) Ours Are The Moments I Play In The Dark | Mature | 30830 words

Jane Austen's Persuasion AU. Nine years ago Louis Tomlinson was persuaded to break off his engagement to Harry Styles, a poor sailor. Since then Louis has come to regret being so easily convinced to give up his one chance of happiness. Now Louis' family is in debt and his childhood home is being sold. In a complete reversal of fortune, Harry has returned to England a wealthy bachelor looking to settle down. Events conspire to bring them together once more though Louis is- must surely be- the last man on earth that Captain Styles would think of now.

19) If Ignorance Be Bliss | Mature | 30429 words

Uni AU: Harry is too experienced, and Louis just wants to get to experience him.

20) Where The Lights Are Beautiful | Mature | 31170 words

The accidental bonding a/b/o fic.

21) Mark My Word (We Gon’ Be Alright) | Explicit | 35524 words

"He’s always known that there would come a time when Harry would bond with some beautiful, quiet omega, and they would have lots of curly-haired pups and live happily ever after.

Knowing it and living it are two very different things, though. Watching the object of your affection desperately search for a mate and completely disregard you as an option is all sorts of painful, but it is what it is, and Louis is just going to have to learn to live with that."

22) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39831 words

Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

23) Eyes Off You I Explicit | 39396 words

A Charlie’s Angels inspired fic where Louis is the brains, Harry is the charm, Liam is the muscle, and Niall drives the getaway car - and Zayn is there, too. sometimes.

24) Kiss Me On The Mouth And Set Me Free (Nut Please Don't Bite) | Mature | 42074 words

Harry is the CEO of Flora Corp, Louis is his new secretary.

"...Louis wanted him so badly. Wanted Harry to pick him up, bite him, and break him. Make Louis his, make Louis cry, make Louis a beautiful, plump, pregnant omega..."

25) Let Me Touch You Where Your Heart Aches | Explicit | 46625 words

A Friends with Benefits AU, in which Louis falls in love and Harry is jealous. There is some Karaoke singing somewhere in there, because how do you write a romantic comedy without a Karaoke scene?

26) Underneath The Moon | Mature | 46927 words

In five years’ time, Louis would be the one saying to his students about how he knew the great Harry Styles, in a time before he had ever put out an album or performed on a real stage. Harry fucking Styles had been his best friend and he still loved him, he always would. But they couldn’t stay that way.

27) The Sidelines | Explicit | 47078 words

Note: There are mentions of Top Louis.

Or Harry and Louis play hockey for Penn state and can’t stand one another, since they can’t keep their hatred off the ice their coach and team do what they can to keep their hard earned spot in the playoffs and their two star players from killing each other.

28) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 59873 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

29) Pinkies Never Lie | Explicit | 83615 words | Sequel

AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

30) Inevitable | Explicit | 185917 words

AU where Louis and Harry used to be more than friends, but everything had to change the day Harry introduces Louis to his new girlfriend.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#fic recs #bottom louis #top harry #larry #pining louis #blp fic recs #blp

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whirlybirbs · 4 years

Text

( gif from the lovely @starwarsfilms. )

--- LOVE SICK. ;

summary: khairyn sar is an important holiday within nabirian religion -- it celebrates love and fertility. obi-wan gets a gift for you from the lower-level markets, aided by a helpful women who urges him to buy a certain plant... pairing: obi-wan x handmaiden!reader, established in this fic & this fic as well. word count: 8k warnings: this is porn with a dash of sex pollen trope / nsfw, 18+ a/n: i am literally not even sorry. here’s a late valentine’s day piece for you all, my lovely lil valentines. pls don’t repost!

It’s a holiday.

Maybe not on Coruscant, but to the Naboo senators and delegates on Coruscant, it is.

Padmé’s usual senatorial garb is exchanged for one of deep reds and a grandiose headpiece that mirrors the visage of Khairtai, the goddess of Fertility and Love. Beside her, Dormé, Sabé, Ellé and yourself bear a smudging of crimson down the center of your foreheads. It’s from the crushed millaflower -- ground into a fine, deep red powder and blessed by the resident royal Pontifex.

Your outfits mirror Padmé’s, hair pinned back tightly into a tight, neat braids with a golden pin halo-ing your heads. It’s of religious significance; each comb bearing two bounding ash-rabbits. Symbols of fertility.

The Royal house of Naboo, namely the Amidala’s, are one of many devout to the Brotherhood of Cognizance -- a polytheistic, monastic, allegorical based religion. Padmé herself was a larger worshipper of Shiraya, the goddess of the moon; Obi-Wan, on more than one account, found himself rather enraptured with the large statue on the outside patio of her Senatorial apartment upon visits with his friend.

In the evening sunset, the goddess’ moon shaped harp frames the horizon quite perfectly. Obi-Wan always wondered if it was some sort of metaphor -- perhaps that Padmé was right where she needed to be, away from the throne and serving her people worlds away.

She’d moved to Coruscant following the ending of her second term of Queen, promptly slipping into her elected position as Senatorial representative. With her, she’d brought Dormé, Ellé, Sabé, and you -- along with a small squad of royal guards. Though, Obi-Wan believed she hardly needed them. Padmé’s handmaidens were more than capable.

You were more than capable.

Obi-Wan, from the upper deck of the Senate’s session, can hardly tear his eyes away from you -- you look rather stoic beside the ex-Queen. You’d joked a few days ago to him that you needed to mind you expressions when some of the other Senators spoke. Obi-Wan bites back a chuckle when F’aralo Pxo from Ithor finally stops babbling and your awfully sour look fades.

Crossing his arms, the young Jedi Knight watches as the session is dismissed by Sheev Palpatine and the large, cavernous room begins to dissipate of senators and delegates.

Obi-Wan Kenobi catches you and the others on the sixteenth floor, about to enter Padmé’s apartment.

“Merry Khairyn Sar.”

He strides close, like a glimmering star flashing across the sunset. Handsome and bright-eyed -- you wonder if your heart will ever cease it’s crescendo of excitement when you see him. Your stomach flips and you can’t help but stare at the appearance of one certain Jedi Knight.

The gaggle of women turn on their heels, their faces lighting up at the appearance of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Your face, by far, is the brightest.

“I only have a minute, but I thought I might come say hello.”

The two of you bite your tongues, amused little smirks threatening to bloom on your faces. It’s childish, but it’s lovely.

Padmé laughs happily at the sight of you both, moving to gesture for Obi-Wan to come in -- once inside the apartment, the Jedi is quick to loop his arms around your waist and haul you high; the reunion is short and sweet and brings smiles to the faces of your closest confidants as the move to spread throughout the apartment. Your earrings sway as you grapple with his shoulders, sliding down him when he places you back on the plush carpet carefully.

The others have known since... gods, what? Years ago?

Before Anakin had even reached puberty and before Obi-Wan had started growing this beard out. You recall in this moment the first time you’d seen him since his diplomatic mission to Naboo, when you’d fallen in love with the kind-hearted Padawan, and how the others had been so keen on seeing the romance play out on the tarmac.

They had, after all, read the correspondences the Jedi had sent in the time apart from one another.

It’s been four years since -- and yet, the sickly sweet tempo of love is still enough to make your knees weak. Seeing him, though often enough now that you’re permanent residency is on Coruscant, is still enough to bring a needy whine to your heartstrings.

“Don’t you have a Padawan to be minding?” you grin, kissing him quickly as he smiles. The prick of stubble tickles.

“The younglings have a trip to the Archives today,” Obi-Wan explains, bowing slightly to chase your words with a kiss to your cheekbone, “But I do have a council meeting within the hour..”

You swat at his chest gently. “What have I said? Anakin is not a youngling. He’s fifteen --”

“Acts like it,” Padmé supplies, pointing at Obi-Wan who mirrors her amused-yet-trying-not-to-seem-it look, “I’ve heard the stories.”

“I’ll have greys because of him soon, I swear it.”

Another kidding swat. This time, the ruddy haired man catches it and laughs warmly. He holds your hand closely, kissing your knuckles. Your face grows hot as sheepishness creeps up your collar due to the semi-public display of affection.

“I have a gift for you,” he says quietly, eyes softening, “For Khairyn Sar.”

You should have known Obi would have figured out about the holiday.

He was a romantic -- charismatic about love and flirtatiously sweet.

Of course a holiday celebrating love would be right up his alley. You hold your tongue -- you wonder if Obi-Wan truly understands the meaning of Khairyn Sar, or if to him, this is a just a small patronage holiday dedicated to romance.

Khairyn Sar is an important holiday within Cognizance. Weddings and performative engagement ceremonies are large parts of the holiday, as well as... well, plainly put: conceptions.

Nearly every devout Nabirian’s dream would be to conceive a child on Khairyn Sar. Those born within nine months of the day are said to be gifts from Khairtai herself, after all. Those with the blessed with being a Khairtai’é frequently found success within relationships, love, and careers. Fertility meant more than simply sex.

Padmé is a Khairtai’é. She truly did have the making of a Queen.

Ellé speaks up from the couch, balancing her vibroblade on her fingertip effortlessly and watching you both. “...Obi-Wan, you do you have a brother?"

“Maybe a cousin?” asks Sabé, melodic and sweet, “A single cousin?”

“A sister, even,” Dormé croons, dropping her chin into her hand -- her voice goes a bit mopey, “I wish someone would bring me a gift for Khairyn Sar.”

It is akin to announcing your love to the world, after all.

Obi-Wan offers one of his trade-mark smiles. The dimples beneath the blonde shadow of his beard are charming and Padmé can’t help but grin as he watches you blink up at him with a moonstruck look that says it all:

You love him.

“I’m afraid not,” he apologizes, hand gracing the small of your back, “Though, if I find any formidable suitors of the Royal Handmaidens of Naboo, I’ll make sure I let you all know.”

“You better,” Dormé swats at his shoulder as she passes by, hanging her cloak and grinning when the Jedi leans to swats her back.

In the last few weeks, he’s become a fast friend -- they’re all within the same age, and Obi-Wan had fallen easily into a brotherly cadence when it came to the girls; you trusted them all, and so, he did as well. Happily. He’d known them all briefly from the time him and Qui-Gon had on Naboo during the negotiations with the Trade Federation... Dormé, Sabé and Ellé had all been on the Nubian by your side when you’d first met the charming Padawan.

“I’ve got to go,” he breathes, leaning to kiss the crown of your head, “Will I see you later?”

You nod, enjoying the warm pass of his fingers on your cheek.

“Of course,” you promise, “Dinner?”

"Dex’s?”

You groan happily, bending a bit in the knees as you nod vigorously at the thought of fries and a shake. Not the most glamorous meal, but a favorite of you both and a safe haven from the Senate and Council.

“Yes, please.”

Obi-Wan grins, tosses a wink, and sneaks out the door with a wave.

As soon as the door shuts, Dormé is quickly to speak.

“You better marry that man.”

“Someday,” a mindful smile, “For now --”

“For now,” Ellé points, “Please give that man a night worth remembering.”

“Ellé!”

You scold your sister-in-duty with a sheepish look of modesty on your face, swatting at her as you fall beside her on the couch. The others laugh.

If only you had any idea what was in store for both you and Obi-Wan.

✶ --- ✶ --- ✶

You meet him outside of Dex’s as the sun begins to set, happily falling into both his arms and the smell of fried food wafting from inside. It’s not often that you’re able to make the trek to the lower levels with him, and seeing the friendly Besalisk owner, Dexter Jettster, was a perk -- the four-armed man had always been kind to you. Fatherly, almost.

He’s tenfold that with Obi-Wan.

Dex happily supplies a hot plate of fries and two bantha burgers you and Obi’s way, free-of-charge. Dex mentions something about owing Obi-Wan for dealing with “those damn kids last week”. You raise a brow, taking a big bite of your burger, and Obi-Wan waves his hand.

“Street kids,” a shrug, “Pick-pocketing.”

“They stole the damn credit drawer!”

“Mm,” you mumble shaking your head at his uncanny ability to downplay every situation, “Always the humble hero, huh?”

He nudges you with his boot as he laughs, dropping his gaze into his meal. You have a way of making him feel sheepish. It’s been years, but your words of flirtation still strike him in his composure. His cheeks are rosy when he looks up, wiping sauce from the corner of his beginning-beard.

“You love it.”

“I do,” you waggle a fry in his face, spurring a breathless laugh from the Jedi, “Very much. So much, that I’m spending Khairyn Sar with you, in a diner, eating terrible food -- no offense, Dex... Says a lot, y’know.”

“None taken,” the cook calls out from behind the counter, “Merry Khairyn Sar, kid. Yer lucky, Obi-Wan! Those Naboo girls usually spend tha’ holiday with th’ man they’re set t’ marry --”

“Hear that,” you call, raising a finger and pinning Obi in his spot with an amused look as you both play-off your well-kept secret, “You’re lucky.”

“I am,” Obi-Wan clears his throat nudging your boot as you nudge it right back, “Aren’t I, Dex?”

“Sure are,” the Besalisk chortles, “If y’ weren’t a Jedi I’d say hurry up ‘n’ marry ‘er already!

Oh, if only he knew.

“Thanks, Dex,” you say sweetly, throwing an appreciative look the cook’s way, “And thanks for keeping this one in line.”

A big, guffaw of laughter meets your words and Dex hits the counter. “He’s trouble!”

“He is,” you shake your head, “He has everyone fooled. Everyone thinks he’s a flawless Jedi Knight, but he’s trouble. I’ve been saying it for years...”

Obi’s eyes crinkle with fondness. You mirror it.

“I love you,” he mouthes when Dex’s back is turned.

“I love you, too,” you mouth back.

✶ --- ✶ --- ✶

You like Obi-Wan’s quarters.

They’re very him.

Warm, quiet and neat.

The room could be considered a bit small, but with a reasonable sized refresher and a large bed, you find no reason to complain. There are a few trinkets lining the shelves above his bed -- tokens of missions and trainings.

Among them is a pebble from the beaches of the Lake Country; one he’d taken before leaving Naboo after the negotiations. You and him had spent hours on that beach, swimming and rolling in the sand, before things changed. Before Qui-Gon’s death and his rise to Knighthood.

He doesn’t have many belongings, but so is the way of the Code.

His bedroom is a familiar space, now. You’ve spent many nights in this room, tucked beside him in the vanilla colored sheets. You wish it was every night. But, you both knew you needed to keep suspicions low. You were just thankful that Obi-Wan’s direct neighbor, Aayla Secura, was wise enough not to ask questions.

The lights to his room are warm and low, illuminated strips of light coming from beneath the shelving -- the large bay windows that reach from floor to ceiling frame the colorful air-lanes illuminating the night sky of Coruscant’s Senate District. Like stars weaving a path, traffic moves slow across the horizon.

Obi locks the door behind him before his hands find your waist and he drops a kiss to your shoulder. You can feel the warmth through the layers of your cloak and dress, smiling as he fiddles with your hips and noses your ear.

“Do you want to see the gift?”

You nod, chewing your lip and turning to catch him in a quick kiss. The Jedi leans in, putty in your hands. Obi-Wan makes an appreciative sound when you hold his jaw, pulling him over you as you bend back a bit.

“Alright,” he says, a little breathless, before pecking another kiss, “Stay here.”

You do as your told, laughing as he takes two steps forward only to retreat back for another smile-laden kiss. He disappears into the walk-in closet; as he does, you strip your cloak from your shoulders and toss it on the bed.

Obi-Wan returns, sans his own robe, clutching something behind his back.

You quirk a brow, noting the incredibly excited look plastered on his face.

“Close your eyes.”

“Obi-Wan,” you warn playfully as you do as your told, “If it bites --”

“It doesn’t bite.”

“I swear,” you outstretch your hands, palms up, eyes closed tight, “It it bites...”

He’s laughing. “It won’t bite!”

Suddenly, there’s a cool, heavy weight in your hands. It’s glass, you realize quickly, and as Obi-Wan smiles, you peel your eyes open and quickly sigh in awe.

“Obi...” the bouquet is large, with three or four different flowering bursts of color nestled inside a large vase, “It’s beautiful.”

You’re quick to move across the room, placing the bouquet down on his desk as he hovers, watching you tut over the flowers -- all of them Naboo natives, you realize with a slack jaw. Your whirl around, handing finding his chest. He smiles, dimples kissing his face.

“You didn’t have to --”

“Oh, hush,” he chides, hand sweeping a circle along your lower back as you bend and admire the plants with gentle hands, “I wanted to.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“I only wish...” a soft sigh as he leans forward and pokes at the stem of a deep purple plant that’s clasped shut tightly, “This one refused to bloom, it seems.”

In hindsight, you should have known better.

You should have known what was going to happen when you reached out and touched the plant the same time as him. You should have known a puff of pink pollen would come flying out, right into your face. You should have known the smell would make you gag and Obi-Wan do the same.

You should have known.

You stagger back, grabbing his arm.

“Oh gods --”

“Open a window.”

“What the hell was that thing, Obi?!”

You should have known.

“Open a window!”

“It’s moving,” you screech, carrying the vase in outreached arms as your make a disgusted face and quite literally run to Obi-Wan who is throwing open the small window of his refresher, “Ohmygod, does it bite?!”

“I don’t care to find out!”

“It smells,” you choke, “It smells --”

“Give it to me --”

“What’re you -- Obi!”

Obi-Wan Kenobi, trained Jedi Knight and well-regarded rising leader within the Council’s tanks, promptly takes the bouquet from your hands and lobs it out the thirtieth story window of his quarters’ refresher in the Jedi Council building, vase and all, all while maintaining eye contact.

He quickly slams the window shut and drops his hands to his waist with a panicked look on his face. He looks pained, like he can hardly believe he just did that.

There’s a beat of silence as your mouth falls open, then you cry:

“...What was that thing?!”

“I don’t know!” he throws his hands as his agitation peaks, “The woman at the market said it was for Khairyn Sar -- she kept, gods, she kept saying it over and over --”

Oh.

“... Obi.”

“... What do you mean ‘Obi’?” Obi-Wan’s voice nearly splinters, panic striking hard and fast across the Jedi’s face at the slow realization in your tone, “Don’t say -- don’t say ‘Obi’ like that -- You know it worries me, when you say --”

“Did she say Khairyn Sar,” you annunciate the syllables slowly, moving from the bathroom and sitting on the edge of the bed as you dot the sounds with your finger in the air, “Or, did she say Khaitai Rysar?”

Obi-Wan blinks.

“... Is there a difference...?” he pushes a hand through his hair as you drop your head back and groan; quickly he breathes out a sheepish mutter, “From the look on your face, there’s clearly a difference --”

“Khairtai Rysar is a plant -- named after the two god’s who... they... it’s... Oh my gods --” you drop your face into your hands, not bothering to tip-toe around the subject any longer, “You bought a sex plant, Obi-Wan!”

He blinks. His mouth moves but no words come out. His brows climbs his face. He tilts his head. The look is owlish and mildly terrified.

A pause.

“... Excuse me?”

His voice is an octave higher than usual.

“Khairtai Rysar is a plant from Naboo,” you squeak out, flopping backwards onto the bed and groaning, “It’s a gift typically given to newly weds. It’s got a pollen that acts as an powerful hypnotic aphrodisiac --”

"Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“-- When we touched it, it must have blossomed,” you barely manage, rubbing your face and sighing, “The spores are extremely potent. Any contact with them is...”

Obi-Wan’s face falls and when you pull your hands from your face, you see him staring at the spattering of pink pollen across your nose and cheeks. You shoot up straight before pulling away your hands and gawking, realizing you need to wash your hands right now because you’re covered in the pollen --

Quickly, you dash into the refresher as your curse when you see your now pinkish reflection and make work on scrubbing your face and hands.

Obi-Wan had lucked out -- well, to a degree. The pollen had only caught him partially; cast off from when you’d staggered back and grabbed onto him.

“Oh, this is horrible,” you mumble, washing your face with ice cold water and staring at him in the mirror, “Horrible, but hilarious -- stop looking like you’ve murdered me --”

“I feel horrible!” he cries, face pulled into an apologetic look, “Gods, I’m sorry --”

“Maybe we can... just... sleep it off?” you offer, wiping your face with a towel he offers, “Right? I mean, I’d by lying if I said I wasn’t anticipating us sleeping together anyways --”

Obi’s fiddling with the facial hair along his jaw, nodding as you speak. “Well, yes. Considering the holiday -- I’d planned for it.”

“I mean -- I feel fine,” you wave your hands, “Do you feel fine?”

“Yes,” he nods, sea-green eyes watching your expression, “I -- I feel fine.”

You’re both panicking.

“Okay,” a little squeak, “So... let’s just... try -- try to sleep it off. For now.”

“And if we can’t?”

You hesitate. Both of you swallow.

“Let us cross that bridge when we get there,” Obi-Wan offers, sounding a bit pained, not even wanting to think about the answer to his own question.

✶ --- ✶ --- ✶

Neither of you can sleep.

It’s been about an hour since the entire debacle began.

You’re both laying awake, staring at the ceiling, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Not that you can blame one another -- you both tend to shoot as straight as an arrow when it came to... stimulants. You really had no need for death-sticks or spice, and Obi-Wan was the same. Having come to terms with the fact you both will be out of control in a matter of hours is a bit terrifying, especially considering the delicate balance of things.

Hiding your relationship wasn’t easy.

In reality, it brought with it a wide array of challenges, including the whole fact that you and Obi-Wan, more often than not, needed to be quiet and quick about sex.

Your encounters were always sweet; always gentle and loving and brought on by moments of happiness or longing. Seeing him for the first time in a while always brewed up arousal in your gut -- you couldn’t help it. It came with the territory of love. Just seeing Obi-Wan smile somedays was enough to snap that coil and wind it tightly in your gut.

After all, he is so damn handsome.

Even now, looking mildly horrified and extra concerned, he looks handsome -- his profile illuminated by the moonlight pouring in from the windows.

The Jedi exhales, rubbing his face, and turns to eye you in the dark light of the room.

You’re already staring -- in the dark, he can make out the trace of a smile on your lips. It’s endearing, and it puts him at ease to know this big mistake hasn’t caused you to hate him

Yet.

“Do you feel any different...?”

You shake your head, pulling your lips into a grimace.

“Maybe I was wrong?” you mumble, “But I’ve heard others tell stories about the smell. Like... rotting meat. There was a guard once, when I was in the Naboo Royal Academy, who was out for an entire week on account of the plant. He’d just been married and...”

Obi-Wan swallows. “I can’t believe --”

“Ah!” you tut, raising a finger, “Stop -- if we’re both about to be off our minds on some aphrodisiac love pollen, it’d just like to remind you that this could be a lot worse.”

“Oh? And how’s that?”

You roll over, prop your chin up in your hand, and quirk a playful brow. “You know I’m good at riding things out --”

Both of Obi’s brows rise at your words, his face warping into something of curious contemplation -- he props his head up, mirroring your position in bed. “Has the pollen already gotten you in its grips, then?”

You laugh, ducking your head and snorting a little. “I’m just saying! Trying to stay positive.”

“You’re a wretched minx and you know,” he mumbles, leaning in to steal a kiss, “That I quite enjoy when you do ride things out. Ever the optimist.”

“So, worst case scenario...”

“We lock ourselves in this room for a week?”

“Or we just... get it out of our systems. Ride it out.”

Obi-Wan hums, flopping back down to the pillows. “Right. Ride it out.”

✶ --- ✶ --- ✶

That bridge Obi-Wan had talked about crossing?

Well, it arrives a little past midnight.

And along with it, a roaring river runs below.

You wake up feeling like your body is two hundred degrees and climbing. At first, you’d just figured you’d had one too many covers on you -- Obi-Wan did have a bad habit of being a small space heater -- and so you’d opted to crawl on-top of the covers. But, even that’s not enough.

In your half-asleep haze, you’d nearly forgotten about the earlier events of the night. But, it’s when the sudden urge to strip flashes to the forefront of your mind, you remember exactly what had happened with that damn Khairtai Rysar plant.

You’re peeling off the spare tunic Obi had lended you in a flash, skin glistening with a feverish sweat -- you give in to the urge and nearly sigh when your skin hits the cool air.

Your eyes drift as you sway a bit, room spinning slightly from the quick movement.

The moon casts a cool glow over the man snoring softly beside you, his own shirt having been discarded a few minutes ago. His arm is over his eyes, his entire body above the sheets.

His trousers hang low on his hips and you watch him breathe out a sigh.

He’s dreaming.

The dip of his waist is where your eyes glue themselves, for some reason, and your lapse in reality draws to a conclusion between your legs. The ache there is... horrible. Suddenly, you realize you’re uncomfortable, and you shift in bed. Your mind feels like it’s six steps behind your body.

You lay back down, rolling over to bury your face into the pillow, and groan.

This is bad. This is really bad.

And from the timing of it, it was only going to get worse.

It wasn’t as if you and Obi-Wan hadn’t had sex before -- you had, plenty of times in plenty of places you maybe shouldn’t have, but this was different. This was... This was the sort of thing you’d both heard horror stories about. Hours and hours of feverish impulse, little to no control... Wonderful if you’re trying to conceive a child on the eve of Khairyn Sar, like the market saleswoman probably thought when she sold Obi the plant.

You sigh, a small smile worming it’s way on your face despite the circumstances.

You just want to skip to the part where you can both laugh about this.

You try and keep yourself present -- but it’s getting harder with the sensitivity to every slight breath coming from the body beside you. Your mind wanders as you try to count yourself to sleep; your mind has better ideas, readily delving into fantasies that feel like half-truths, and the ache between your legs worsens.

You’re mid-dream of Obi lapping between at your core when he moves, brushes your arm, and you jump awake.

“Sorry.”

You can only manage to grit out a muffled moan.

The Jedi rolls, ignoring the evident hardness that’s now painful in his trousers, and eyes you carefully -- you’ve stripped, the only thing on your body are the thin, red satin bottoms on your lower half. Sweat is glimmering along your back, and Obi-Wan feels a twang of guilt build in his chest.

He rolls, props himself up, and touches your spine. It was supposed to be a calming gesture, one rooted in apology, but...

It’s a mistake.

Your body reacts immediately, a gasp wringing itself from your throat as your fingers tighten in the sheets -- you grit your teeth, raise your head and nearly plead:

“Please,” a whisper before it all rushes out, “That... feels good.”

You can’t find the words to explain that his touch is like pour ice water over a burn. It feels wonderful. You squirm against the mattress as Obi tries to catch his breath. His lungs stutter and he ghosts his fingers along your spine once more -- this time, it sends a pang of arousal straight to his gut.

“I... I think,” his voice is hoarse and his throat is tight, “I think --”

You just chew your lip and nod, nose brushing the pillow as you remain face down. You feel it too.

It’s all he can manage. His brain is a foggy mess of fantasy and arousal. You’re the focal point of it all; the force around you is louder now, mingling between him and his sensitivities. His fingertips brush the dip of your spine and you inhale sharply, nerves alight at the contact. He can feel the sensation along his own spine -- it’s like a punch square in the gut.

Then, on the hazy impulse of some rose colored pollen, Obi bends, slowly, and kisses the blade of your shoulder.

You whimper, gasping slightly when his hand spreads flat across the back of your ribs and sweeps along your skin, bringing with it a electric sensation that throbs your sex with painful, empty want.

“Obi...”

“This is...,” he breathes, lips ghosting your shoulder, “Not good.”

“It hurts.”

He couldn’t agree more. His brain feels like it’s on fire. When he closes his eyes he only sees you, spread out beneath him and saying his name over and over and over -- fucking hell. His voice is low. “What do we do?”

You pull yourself up in bed, hair wild and eyes set in dark circles. You look dazed and far-away, but your attention is rooted on him.

You reach out and touch his chest, busying your touch with the thatch of reddish hair there. Your fingertips buzz and your body cools immediately -- Obi-Wan leans into the touch, his hand finding yours as he exhales a shaky breath.

“Ride it out?”

Obi’s eyes are as large as dinner plates at the recommendation -- the usual green over-taken by his dilated pupils; his touches are hungry. He nods, Adam’s apple bobbing furiously as you shift closer.

“Ride it out.”

It’s a downward spiral from there.

You both surge forward, meeting for a kiss that’s like being plunged into an icy lake -- it soothes a bit of the fever, waves of relief coming in the form of wandering hands and messy love-bites. You roll yourself on-top of him, pushing your arms up beside his head and gasping when the Jedi grabs your jaw and pulls you right back down for a kiss that steals the very air from your lungs.

... This is different.

You whimper, collapsing to his chest -- and Obi shudders at the brush of your clothed hips against his own. He feels like he’s drowning in you, happily, and his whole body is alight from your touch. His brain is six steps behind his body and the room spins around him as he pushes himself up and you follow suit, sitting up in his lap.

Instantly, calloused hands snake around your waist and you have to bite your lip so tight you draw blood to keep yourself quiet when Obi-Wan’s mouth latches onto to the curve of your breast and bites a tender little mark there. Your hands shake, tightening into the tufts of hair at the base of his neck as he makes an appreciative sound at the reaction and blinks up at you from underneath thick lashes.

Gods above this is heaven.

Everything feels so... hot. Tight and needy and wet and just the mere pass of his hands along your waist has your squirming in his lap as his tongue draws up and around the swell of your right breast. In a flash, he’s taken the perk nipple there into his mouth and your body quakes.

In response, you fist his hair. Tight.

And he moans. Right against your skin, gasp worming itself from his throat as you get the message and tug again -- this time exposing his throat and allowing yourself to dive below his stubble and little sloppy little kiss there to his delight.

His whole world is swimming with pleasure and he can feel his own arousal throbbing eagerly in his trousers as your nails run along his scalp and drift to his beard, giving the hair there a gentle tug.

His heart stutters, mouth dropping open as you laugh greedily into his neck.

“You like that?”

A breathless nod; he’s stuck on the way you speak -- half-way in the room and half-way in his mind. Obi-Wan feels like his whole heart is going to give out; he can’t focus, to stuck on your body and the way the force is running directly between you both like a pool of water. Each touch casts a ripple and...

Fucking hell.

He flips you both, pressing you into the mattress with enough force to rush the air out of your lungs and make the bed creak; you can’t help but muffle a surprised laugh, shoving your hand over your mouth lazily as Obi-Wan noses your jaw and litters exploring kisses down your neck and shoulder.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he breathes into your skin, stubble raising goosebumps along the hot burn of your fever. You shiver, fingers greedily looping into his hair as he bites a daring little mark into your décolletage, “You’re so beautiful --”

He sounds like he’s underwater. Your hearing is going in and out, eyes half-open to watch the sight of him drifting lower and lower and lower and...

Obi’s fingers brush the band of your bottoms and you gasp loud enough that his eyes shoot open and he moves to slap a hand over your mouth.

The motion is rough enough to spur you on, lending you to arch your back and laugh headily into the skin of his palm. You feel intoxicated -- like you’re tipping over the edge of a blissful high and every touch is enough to make your legs shake.

“I’ll be quiet,” you murmur, plucking at his fingers and watching his eyes grow darker -- you sit up, gripping his palm, before darting your tongue out to draw around his index finger. Instantly, the Jedi turns to putty, and he drops his head as he curses. You laugh, taking his whole finger in your mouth, before he pulls away and sweeps his hands under your bottom.

“Up.”

It’s not a request. It’s a demand.

Your lower abdomen burns with arousal as you do so, lifting your hips and allowing Obi-Wan to snag the band of your underwear and drag them down your hips. You can feel the wetness brush your thigh as he tosses them over his shoulder. Your legs shake a bit, hands winding into the sheets as Obi-Wan hangs himself off the bed and presses your legs apart with warm hands.

There’s no precursor, no build-up.

Not that you need any.

He just lays his tongue flat to your soaking clit and groans, like it’s the first meal he’s had in days. The vibration is heavenly. Your whole body goes hot-white at the sensation, need to feel full peaking in that moment; your arms collapse and you fall back to the sheets gasping as the Jedi between your legs traces the swollen, pink folds of your sex with his tongue. It feels like you’re not even in your body -- like you’re floating somewhere above the moon and swimming with the stars.

You taste like honey. Sweet. So damn sweet. And he can’t get enough of it.

The sensation of his mouth on your center isn’t the only thing winding the spring in your gut higher and higher. It’s... hands. Everywhere. Touching you where his hands aren’t -- across your waist and pinning your thighs down to the mattress as you squirm, in your hair and running across your breasts as you quiver. It’s like you’re the center of three people’s attention, and you realize with a wanton moan that it’s the damn force.

“Obi...”

He raises his heavy-lidded eyes only for a moment, arms wound around your legs as he holds the apart. A lock of his hair has fallen into his face and you can feel his stubble grace the inside of your thigh as he smiles.

“Sonofabitch,” it rushes out when a non-visible hand ghosts your jaw, trailing down your throat eagerly, “Is that -- is... Obi --”

“It’s me,” he mumbles, pulling away for a moment -- you can see your wetness along his chin as he sways a bit, his grip tightening on the flesh of your thighs, “I’m here.”

And all over.

You move to dig your fingers into his hair, only to watch one of his hands gesture slowly through the air and -- suddenly, both of your hands are above your head and you’re arching against the mattress.

“I’m busy.”

It’s all Obi offers in explanation for the action, jaw falling open as his tongue presses deep past your entrance; once, twice, and again. He rightly fucks you with his tongue, and you suddenly snap.

Your whole body quakes with an orgasm that sends your eyes rolling into the back of your skull. He coaxes you through it, tongue sweeping up your clit as you shake and moan and cry his name over and over.

“What a good girl.”

The reaction is wonderful -- but, it begins an even further downward spiral for you into the land of need.

Suddenly, the fever flares in the glow of the come-down. It’s worse. Hot and terrible and the ache between your legs isn’t stopping.

You mumble, bleary and quiet, trying to keep your voice level. “I n-need more.”

He does as he’s told, watching as your chest heaves and you continue to squirm despite the light hold on your wrists. In his mind, he traces the curve of your waist and you jump -- it makes him chuckle. It gives him enough time to let go of your thigh and slip his middle finger over your clit, down your folds, and past your entrance.

Gods, he loves you.

His name spills over your lips so sweetly, Obi has to catch his own breath.

It’s when he crooks a second finger deeply into you that he gets a real reaction -- this one stirring the haze in his mind and making his thoughts spin. You writhe and gasp and buck your hips down onto your hand, all while begging for more.

And who is he to deny you that?

Suddenly, the pressure for your wrists is gone.

You sit right up, hair a mess and lips pulled into a terrifying snarl -- you grab the back of his head as he shifts up the bed, slamming your lips onto his and clawing at his back; the Jedi can’t help the desperate whine that worms out of him.

Somewhere, far in the back of his mind, he hears himself promise to get Aayla an apology card.

“Lay down.”

Your voice is low, and Obi’s brows raise slowly -- he looks fucked out of his mind, but it’s just the pheromones and the force making it hard to think. He obeys the demand wordlessly, rubbing at his face as his head lolls back against the pillows --

Then, your hand ghosts along the imprint in his trousers and he sees stars.

If this is what you’d been feeling... Gods, he’s two beats from coming himself. It doesn’t get any easier -- maintaining some semblance of pacing and composure -- when you tug the hem of his trousers down and away.

Obi bites his knuckles so hard it draws blood.

Everything feels so... overwhelming.

It’s only elevated when your hands brush the warm flesh of his cock, eyes hooded with lust weighted lashes. Your bottom lip only brushes the underside of the head and Obi-Wan has to grab something to ground himself.

His arm bows above his head, securing itself to the pillow. You watch his bicep flex with a greedy gaze.

“You’re so beautiful,” you breathe, tongue darting out to slip flat along the very base of his shaft, “I love you -- so much.”

He can’t speak. Not at all. His mouth moves, but nothing comes out -- only a desperate sound of approval muffled against his knuckles when you take the tip of his cock into your mouth and giggle. The sound has his hips twitching at the vibration. You notice, and happily slip your mouth farther along his manhood.

Obi-Wan just swallows, inhales sharply, and muffles a needy moan behind both of his palms.

Your nails run down his sides, causing the muscles there to jump -- years of training has given him more of a physique than he lets on, and you find yourself watching him hungrily as you bob up and down his member. It’s sinful and in no way pretty, but Obi’s two beats from death’s doorstep when you pull away and swipe at your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Gods --”

You crawl up his side, kissing him hotly as he leans to meet you halfway.

“I -- I need to feel you,” your whisper, voice shattering, “Please.”

He sits up, moving quickly to drag your towards the edge of the bed -- you follow, watching as his cock brushes his stomach when he sits up; it’s all you can think about. Right now, the hollow ache between your legs is driving you mad.

Obi watches as you throw your leg over his hip; he can see the glistening of wetness running down your thighs there -- and the fact the room smells like flowers hits him suddenly. The pollen, he realizes. Which is better than it smelling like sex, which in a few hours, it most definitely will.

You hover above him, backlit by the moon and the sight of Coruscant’s night, and kiss him like it’s all you need in this world. Everything is mingling together, painting an overwhelming collection of synapses just trying to rid the pollen from your system. Every touch, every kiss, every breath... all of it is enough to have you needing more.

“Go ahead,” he breathes, watching as you nose his cheek and sigh, melting into his arm, “I’ve got you --”

You sink down on him and...

That’s it.

There’s no better feeling in the world.

Nothing like riding it out.

It’s all him and it’s wonderful and loving and thick and fits the need just perfectly. His fingers dig little half-moons into the skin of your sides as he gasps, mouth falling open as yours does above him. You don’t need time to adjust; you instantly pull yourself upwards and pack down the slick heat of his cock again. The fever washes away with every thrust, your need escalating to sheer bliss by the time Obi-Wan has finally begun to get his bears.

His grapples with you, words stringing together praise and adoration through messy kisses and delighted moans.

“Just like that,” he whispers, snapping his hips up into yours as you scramble to hold onto him, “Gods, you’re so perfect --”

You tighten a hold into his hair and pull, spurring his words to fall off into pleasure and for the sound to be smothered by a bruising kiss. He’s tipping into the territory of carnal, now, hands scaling your back to lift you up and guide you back down with enough force to make you see stars.

“S-shit --” you hiss, throwing your arms around his neck, “Again.”

So he does. Again and again and again and you’re shaking. Your legs are burning, pace stuttering into a disjoined slow -- and it prompts Obi-Wan to take the lead. You nearly shriek when he lifts you off his member fully and tosses you to the bed, forgetting their previous position in favor of one where he can fuck you right into the mattress.

Calloused fingers slip between your legs as you grin, legs spread wide and back to the sheets.

Above you, the Jedi’s smiling. “Let me do the work.”

A shaky nod; he climbs over you, bracing himself up on his elbow beside your head. His cock slips into you easily -- the sound you both make is akin to bliss. Again, the fever begins to receded. Now, his hands are in your hair and your legs are hiked around his hips. You can feel your muscles shaking with each filling of your core.

“I love you,” it’s muttered against your lips, bodies jostling with each impact of pleasure, “I love you so much --”

Your arms are tight around his neck when he bends, lifts your hips, and drives home.

It’s world-ending -- before you can even vocalize it, you’re screaming his name and coming so hard you swear you hear something in your chest snap. You shake, tightening harshly around his cock and working his own sudden orgasm out of him in a blink; suddenly, the whole bed moves an inch with a sudden push and the room rocks on impact.

BOOM.

He’s grasping at you, catching you as you writhe against the sheets and send him spilling a mess everywhere. Inside you, across your thighs, along your stomach. He can’t help but muffle the mantra of your name into the skin of your shoulder as he heaves and shakes and tries to grab your hips for stability with one hand.

There’s a moment, then two.

Then, Obi-Wan collapses next to you on the sheets.

His eyes are wide, chest rising up and down quickly as he swallows and turns to look at you beside him. You’re no better, arms spread out and jaw slack -- there’s a smile on your face, one that blooms into a laugh when you raise your head and stare down at the mess between your legs.

You drop your head back and Obi-Wan exhales slowly.

His voice shakes.

“... I feel better.”

“Yeah,” you muster with a tired laugh, “Me too.”

✶ --- ✶ --- ✶

The next morning is... interesting.

His room is a mess. You both wake to find nothing is where it was before. All the trinkets adorning his shelves have flown across the room and even the bed as moved an entire foot from its usual location.

There’s a crack in the wall where the headboard meets the dura-plaster.

You both wake up feeling like you’ve been hit by a land-speeder, full throttle.

Obi-Wan sits straight up and you nearly scream when you see the state of his neck and back. He’s covered in dark purple bites, and running down his back are welts from your scratches. You’re in no better shape -- you face plant into the carpet upon first attempts to stand.

You both stand in the refresher, slack jawed and just as dazed as you’d been when you’d finally won-out the pollen last night, sometimes around two in the morning.

You just know that the girls are going to have a lot to say about this.

Obi-Wan spares you a single mortified look -- and you both burst into laughter.

Gut-wrenching, tear bringing laughter that sends you both out of the refresher and bracing against the objects in his room. He’s smothering a terrible snort when you try to speak.

“I can’t... I can’t believe --”

“Merry Khairyn Sar?”

You shriek, swatting at the Jedi’s arm as he descends into another bought of laughter. You can’t worm the smile off your face. At this point, you don’t want to.

“I need breakfast,” you point, gathering up your gown and robe from the day previous, “Before I can handle the trademarked Kenobi snark.”

“Dex’s?”

“I’d love to see you try and explain those hickey’s on your jugular to him,” you prod at his neck, earning you a delighted kiss on your way to change in the bathroom, “So yes.”

“Oh, trust me,” he waggles his finger, “I’ve got everyone fooled, you know --”

Obi-Wan eats his words when, after cleaning up, dressing, and straightening his quarters, you both step into the hallway only to come face to face with certain an exhausted looking Twi’lek.

Aayla Secura most definitely heard everything.

The apologetic look she offers is enough of a give-away as you cover your mouth and Obi-Wan guides you away before you can even utter an apology.

“Morning, Master Secura!”

Once you’re in the elevator, the laughter begins anew.

Obi-Wan will find a way to make it up to Aayla.

After all, it was a holiday.

Maybe not on Coruscant, but to the Naboo senators and delegates on Coruscant, it was.

#obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan smut #obi-wan kenobi lemon #obi-wan imagine #star wars imagine #nothing like. a little porn.#nightfall & daybreak

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