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#at the end of the day he's wearing it for himself but he would like to be acknowledged.
reidsdaisies · 3 days
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𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞
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༉‧´ˎ˗ paring; spencer reid x gn!reader ༉‧´ˎ˗ summary; spencer just looks too irresistible in those damned short-shorts. ༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; horrific ‘banter’ (reader is just a tease), sub!spencer, handjob. ༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.8k
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𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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“Dork,” you snort.
“What!” Spencer practically squeaks, spinning back around to look at himself in the full length mirror.
“Nothing’s wrong with it.. you just look like a dork.” You laugh again, using your elbows to sit yourself up against your pillow. “Where’d you go to get that outfit anyway?”
“Well, Morgan suggested a place that sells workout clothes, and so I kind of may have bought an outfit from the first mannequin I saw. But I think I picked well. I read that wearing a sweatshirt while working out can help with warming up, lead to an increase in blood flow, and can reduce my risk of injury.” He rambles off, working on fitting a sweatband around his forehead.
“You think you’re going to get injured?”
“Well, I have been trying to be more purposeful with working out, but by the end I always feel lightheaded, though that’s to be expected. And, you never know, I may trip and fall on my face. It happens even when I’m not working out. The sweatshirt could cushion me.” He shrugs, turning back around to face you. “Less dorky or more dorky with the sweatband?”
“Definitely more dorky.. but also adorable. It’s very much adorkable, and very much what you’d wear when working out.” You giggle, moving over to the edge of the bed.
Spencer finds himself moving closer towards you, standing right infront of where you sit criss-crossed on the comforter.
“One day that’s going to get old, (y/n).”
“No, one day you’re going to get old and you’ll still be an adorable little dork.” He just huffs, rolling his eyes, but you catch the little smirk before it’s too late. The playful glint in your eye shimmers, and if you were a cartoon character, there would be a giant bright lightbulb over your head. Your hands naturally found their way to his hips, resting against the blue material of his shorts. “..these really are short, aren’t they?”
He gulped, watching with intent as you slide your hands a few inches down from his hips, reaching his bare thighs in less than a second.
“What are you doing, (y/n)?” He breathes out, almost sounding like he’s panting.
“Helping you with your pre-workout stretch..” you mutter, slipping a hand past the waistband of his shorts.
“You’re supposed to stretch your legs before a workout not—“ he chokes on his words, getting them caught in his throat as soon as your hand cups his length, giving it a tug. “that.” He shakily squeaks his last word. You chuckle.
“Are you always this hard before your workouts, Dr. Reid?” You taunt him, hand moving up and down his erection, thumb swiping across his already leaking tip.
“N-no you, y-you, um,” he tries to speak but he can’t get the words right, stumbling over them. You stroke him leisurely, making a show out of sighing and rolling your eyes to the side, not even looking at him as you stay sitting on your knees on the bed before him, getting him off with just your hand. “(Y-y/n),” he stutters in an attempt to get your attention back on his face. He lets out an unabashed moan, sounding downright sinful.
“God,” he groans as your pace picks up the slightest bit. His droopy gaze follows yours, landing on the wall clock.
“What time did you say she was picking you up?”
“Te— oh fuck, ten thirty!” He exclaims, hips bucking forward into your hand as you touch him just right, paying good attention to the man’s balls.
“Hmm,” you hum, thinking carefully about the next step in your plan to absolutely destroy this man. You turn your head back towards him, using your free hand that was squishing and digging into his thigh to push his shorts and underwear down, letting them drop on their own and pool around his ankles. “How many times do you think you can cum in 20 minutes?”
“No, no (y/n).” He protests, shaking his head, but his dick betrays him, twitching in your hold. His hand moves down his body, resting over yours, being moved up and down along with yours with each hasty stroke you deal to his cock.
With warning, a warm, white liquid spurts from his tip, an angry shade of red. His cum drips down your hand as well as his own, making a complete mess of them. He grunts and whimpers through the whole process, the bucking movement of his hips accelerating before slowing down to a stop.
You grin up at him mischievously and in return he just lets out a huff, his mouth hanging open and eyes continuing to droop low. His face looks exhausted, but his cock still looks like it has some kick left in it.
“You want me to do it again—“ he cuts you off, nodding furiously. “Y-yeah, again, please, we have the time,” he whimpers, sounding like a mix of excitement and defeatment.
“Adorkable,” you laugh, speaking in a sing-songy manner.
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tender-rosiey · 12 hours
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plsss would u do sukuna taking care of his pregnant wife? like noticing his robes keep disappearing, only to figure out its his wife. or more dad!kuna 🙏🏾
robes — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: me👰‍♀️ ➕ 👹heianera!sukuna
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sukuna is a deeply preceptive man.
it’s something he prides himself over, and since he is observant, he quickly notices that his robes start going missing.
in the beginning, he thinks that it’s probably the increased number of bloodied robes because he has been going on a higher number of rampages the past couple of days.
so, he goes to uraume to inquire about why the delivery of his robes has been later than usual.
uraume quickly responds that they have been personally delivering the clean robes to his chambers and ensuring that they are placed where he can clearly see them.
the revelation makes sukuna annoyed because that means that someone has been stealing his robes directly from his chambers.
he is presented with two courses of actions—excluding the option of saving himself the trouble and just killing all the servants: sending uraume to spy on the whole ordeal or investigate it himself.
considering how he has been pretty bored the past couple of days, he decides on the latter. the past few rampages have given a clear warning to the rest of the villages surrounding his castle.
so, with nothing else to do, sukuna takes it upon himself to monitor the main entrance of his chambers to see whether anybody enters the room after uraume places the robes in the room.
so, he situates himself near the room but far away so that they can’t catch him.
he stays there for a good couple of hours, yet he sees no one, not even in the darkness of the night: the supposed prime time for a thief.
perhaps the thief has been made aware of sukuna’s inspection? but that would mean that the robes would still be in the chambers. so, sukuna enters his room in search of his robes, but, to his surprise, he doesn’t find them.
that immediately leads him to concluding that whoever is stealing his robes is someone who has access to the hidden door of his room.
and no one knows about that door except—
“y/n.”
you yelp and slowly turn to your husband. he is standing there, arms crossed, brows furrowed, and an everlasting frown on his face. you have been caught and are in some big trouble.
you don’t falter immediately though. you try to act normal. you smile nervously, “yes, my love? is something bothering you?”
keyword: try.
he repeats your name lowly, and you quickly crumble. you visibly deflate and lower your head as you murmur, “yes…”
he nods in satisfaction before asking the awaited question, “where are my robes?”
your hands rest on your lap, and you fidget with your fingers.
you still can’t figure out what his reaction will be. so far, he is just gathering information. he is giving you nothing to work with, so you have no other option but to comply and just keep answering him.
sighing, you answer him, “my closet.”
he quirks an eyebrow and sits in front of you. his hand is placed on your head, and he raises your head, so you’re looking him in the eyes. it’s something that you have noticed only being done to you.
you had absentmindedly asked your head servant about it, and said servant, uraume, had told you that it’s because he views you as an equal and does not take pleasure in your fear and acting inferior to him.
and in the end, sukuna only does what pleases him. if it doesn’t please him then why do it?
he hums as if in thought before egging you on, “and why are my robes in your closet? in fact—” he smirks, eyes observing your frame, “why are you currently wearing my robes?”
you pull the robes tighter around yourself, and you purse your lips. sukuna wants an answer right now, and while he is enjoying your ‘suffering’, but he also wants to know what’s wrong.
if there is anything that he hates then it’s not knowing, especially if it’s something about you, his very pregnant wife.
his hand travels to your jaw, and he grips it lightly.
“so?” he says as he tilts your head to the slide slightly.
“you…have been gone for longer than usual lately, and I have been missing you,” you admit softly as you try your best to maintain eye contact, but you end up looking away.
he is still silent, so you continue laying out your reasoning, “and for some reason, the robes alleviate the pregnancy pain. I couldn’t find any logical or scientific reason, but I think—
—it’s because the robes are filled with your cursed energy, maybe acting as a kind of assurance to the baby that you are beside us even if you aren’t.”
he doesn’t grace you with any reaction nor reply for quite a while, and it makes you think that he is probably thinking about how foolish the entire scenario is.
so, you add hesitantly, “or something like that…”
after a moment, though, he sighs and simply says, “you could’ve just asked me, you foolish woman.”
you blink confused, “and you, my ‘no one takes what’s mine’ husband, would’ve allowed that?”
“you, idiot, are mine, so my belongings are yours anyway,” he states, and his hands rest on your stomach, “this is mine too, so you have to take good care of it.”
a smile takes over your face, and you nod happily, “of course, I will!”
you pause for a second, and it has sukuna confused.
you frown and you point your finger at him while reprimanding him, “and don’t call me an idiot, mister! I am your wife, and I am blessed with a good name.”
a pinch is delivered to your butt which makes you shriek. you jump away from you husband and start rubbing the spot in attempt to soothe it.
sukuna smiles wickedly before suggesting, “how about I help you with that?”
“no! keep your hands off of me, you brute!”
he chuckles, and it echoes throughout the room. it’s kind of creepy. you always said that you wanted to add more furniture to avoid that situation.
you start thinking about the new design for the room when your husband speaks up, “and regarding my absence the past few of days.”
you turn your head to him, and he continues, “I will be putting my plans on pause for a while, so you don’t have to resort to the robes for the time.”
he turns his back to you before announcing, “I am expecting you at dinner and later in my chamber. is that clear?”
you feel giddiness fill you up, and you reply enthusiastically, “yes, my king!”
“good,” he smirks.
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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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manicpixiefelix · 3 days
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love the hand that feeds you {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
One-Shot for head, heart, hand. but can be read as a stand-alone.
Summary: Everyone's always called you Felix's Dog. Felix has always had a problem with this. You've always wished that he didn't. Oliver's never been much of a cat person anyways.
Need to Know: They/Them. NB!Reader. Oliver's POV. Set after the Summer at Saltburn but with a happy, poly ending. Established Felix/Reader/Oliver. Reader's AGAB/sex is never made explicitly clear so hopefully all of y'all can enjoy.
Warnings: SMUT. Porn with plot. Pet play, obviously. Demeaning language (dog is the main one, obviously), oral, threesome, unprotected sex, d/s dynamics (all three of you go back and forth but there's mostly Dominant!Oliver), teasing, praise kink (and praise kink by proxy), pet names (ha). Felix & Reader being horny puppies who love Oliver Quick (and each other) very much.
A/N: 9494 words. i told my girlfriend about this fic and how long it is and she said 'at that point is it a oneshot or a cry for help' and idk man it's definitely a cry for something 👀
----
It starts because Felix likes having his hair played with.
Actually, it starts the week before with you, drunk and giggling at a house party, playing with the chain Oliver's always wearing with more fascination than usual, when you admit that Venetia once bought you a collar. Of course you provide the caveat that it was more to piss Felix off, which it had, and that it had been thrown into the fire before you ever got to wear it. Oliver, who'd been watching Felix playing beer pong across the room, has to take a moment to process what you'd said.
"Wish she didn't make it all weird," you sighed a little forlornly, and you give the chain a faint tug, "I'm such a good dog, everyone says so," then you huffed a faint, flustered laugh, "not everyone. Not you and Fi, you guys are lovely, but sometimes I am a bit like a dog; I'm okay with that."
In the next moment you're humming along to whatever trashy pop is playing, and Oliver's pretty sure you've already forgotten what you'd just said, but even in his own state of inebriation, he can't.
The next day, on one of the many lawns across Oxford's beautiful campus, Oliver's sitting with Felix's head in his lap, fingers running through his hair as you and Felix are brainstorming gifts for Venetia's upcoming birthday. Felix has his eyes closed, enjoying the warm afternoon and the sensation of Oliver's gentle petting, while you're splayed out on the grass beside them both, focusing on your notebook.
Yes, you've always been a good dog, but you'd been well trained; the more Oliver thinks about it, the more he finds himself also drawing comparisons between Felix and an excitable, affectionate, pampered pup himself. But there was potential there, Oliver could see it clear as day.
So he'd started to come up with a plan. A simple plan, thankfully; knowing you both it wouldn't require anything too complicated, it wouldn't be particularly manipulative. At least not maliciously.
A simple, two step plan to show the impossibly beautiful, rich, loving heirs how much he loved and appreciated them for all their qualities, especially the dog-like ones, in certain circumstances. Really it's not even his idea; Felix's whole family had drawn the comparison with you before it had even really occurred to him. He couldn't be blamed for being intrigued about following it to its logical end, and showing you both it's not the negative it usually comes across as. At least, that's how he phrases it in his mind when he's justifying it to himself.
And if he thinks you and Felix would both look pretty in a collar, well that's just a perk he keeps to himself.
The first step is submission.
All three of you fluctuated between dominance and submission on any given day, an enthusiastic ebb and flow of control amongst the three of you, in every combination imaginable. Except Felix seems unable to fully commit himself to submitting to Oliver alone; oh he plays along without hesitation, will get on his knees for Oliver at the slightest firm tone, but he always seems more thrilled knowing your hand is on his metaphorical leash.
So Oliver takes his time figuring out what exactly will make Felix long for Oliver's hand on his throat. The solution is shockingly simple.
Praise.
It couldn't be just any praise. He'd lived his life hearing sweet words about how good he looks, or how lovely he was, it had to be deeper than that. Praise only you or Oliver could give, praise that he craved to hear, praise for the parts of himself he quietly put effort into.
Praise for being helpful, for being diligent, for being caring and genuinely thoughtful to the two of you, for being good.
"God, you're so good to me, Felix," Oliver groans in the bathroom of a house party, back pressed against the door while Felix was on his knees, Oliver's cock in his mouth. When Oliver looks down, sees Felix with a faint blush on his cheeks that's far sweeter than the rest of the debauchery of their situation, Oliver cards a hand through his hair, giving him a look that radiated just as much love as he felt for the man himself, "always so fuckin' good to me," he murmurs this time.
Felix, now bright red, all kinds of flustered, pulls back for half a second, unable to fight back a smile as he swears under his breath, but Oliver's hand in his hair tightens. Felix eyes flutter closed as Oliver, tone on his voice like a warning, tells Felix that he didn't say stop.
And Felix seems more than delighted to obey, to be as good to Oliver as he'd just been deemed.
Praise like this always made Felix all smitten and obedient and eager to please. Of course Oliver had always been quick to praise Felix, but this was different, was concentrated and specific. Once Oliver had started with these efforts, Felix seemed to grow more relaxed and eager to let Oliver become dominant over him when the mood struck him, even without the specific praise. Though the praise always helped.
The second step is acceptance.
Considering everything that had happened at Saltburn - the voyeuristic games you'd played with Oliver, the adventurous ways and places in which you and Felix would fuck, the handjob you'd given him after you caught him drinking the bath water that Felix had gotten off into that ended with you also managing to come untouched while Oliver moaned Felix's name in your ear, just to name a few - Oliver knew your sex lives would be more than a little kinky before he even officially joined this relationship. He was not disappointed.
Both you and Felix seemed more than willing to try anything, though Oliver was delighted to discover just how much you'd both already done, and were more than eager to do again.
All this to say that pet play was barely a step removed from roleplay, so he shouldn't have been surprised that you jump at the chance. At first it stays between you and Oliver, for obvious reasons that have everything to do with Felix's hangups about the derogatory way other people had often called you a dog. But when Oliver calls you 'pretty pup' for the first time, you react just the same way Felix does when praised.
Flustered. Bashful. Obedient.
Except Oliver quickly learns that you react far stronger than Felix. It seems not only were you telling the truth about being okay with the title, simply hearing it said so lovingly by Oliver, even in the most innocent situations, was enough to turn you on. It was validation you so desperately wanted, craved, your efforts and constant place by their side acknowledged and appreciated. There are times even when you're in control where you demand praise, and the words slip out.
"You're a good dog," Oliver gasps out, your legs over his shoulders, his head between your thighs. A pleased noises rumbles from somewhere in your chest and you laugh low and heady.
"You're fucking lucky to have a dog like me, Oliver Quick," comes out all lazy and confident, but his nose of agreement isn't enough for you, clearly, as your thighs momentarily tighten around him, trapping him, and he feels one of your heels press insistently against his back, "aren't you lucky," you say pointedly, warning in your voice, "to have such a good dog?" Echoing your words in agreement, they come out sounding like a breathless prayer, one he's eager to chant to see the heady, powerful smile you wear when you hear it.
Fuck he feels dizzy with lust in this moment, desperate to devour you, have his mouth on you, like his life depends on it, hoping you'll grant him the chance to fuck you - there's something about you in control that will always drive Oliver utterly mad. Actually, no matter the situation or who's in control, knowing you and Felix continue to want him, love him, choose him to share these moments with... sometimes he still can't believe he got here in the end.
He never thought he'd hear you beg, let alone for him. It's like fucking music.
When he's got you like this, under him, desperate, eager to please, mind a messy haze caught up in this fantasy being played out with you as his perfect pup - so good, so loyal, fuck you're precious, pet - where he can do or say practically anything to you, where you want him to.
"Fuck I love how pathetic you sound, pet," he mumbled into your ear, pressed against you, thrusting slow and deep, "can't even form a proper thought, can you?" He teases. Your hips stutter up into his in an inconsistent rhythm, desperate. Chiding you for it, he sits back, even as a disappointed mewl escapes you. As if moving out of instinct, you reach out, as if to try and pull him back in, and your fingers catch on the chain he still wears around his neck.
"Drop it," he orders immediately, to which you let go as if the metal had burned you. However, Oliver can feel you clench around his cock, hips rolling, pressing close to him, instinctively, "good dog," he purred, pleased, deciding to reward you by finally fucking you with intent.
So it's not you who still has to come to accept this concept. But Oliver's fairly confident you will be the main reason when Felix does come to accept it. In fact, he doesn't even bring the concept up to Felix himself; he knows you well enough that it will only be a matter of time.
It doesn't take long.
One night at the club, all three of you drunk and feeling indulgent under the lights and haze, you hear a resentful -
"Felix really can't go anywhere without his dog -"
You have to hold Felix back from searching for the girl who said it to start shouting at her, assuring him it's fine, but Oliver then has to drag you both of the dancefloor when you start unexpectedly arguing with each other. He actually genuinely can't pick exactly what the argument is about until he's got you both in one of the marginally quieter side rooms, you and Felix still arguing animatedly -
"- shouldn't even be talking about you like that, they don't even know you -" Felix snapped, while you stepped up into his space, having him in the chest.
"When the fuck have I ever cared what anyone but you thinks of me?!"
"I don't think of you as my dog!"
"How many times do I have to say that I don't mind being called your dog before you figure out that maybe I want you to call me that?!" You glare up at him, watching the confusion and mixed emotions about the idea pass over his face in rapid succession, "I'm getting sick of you taking issue with the title, and refusing to understand why I don't; am I not every fucking thing the perfect dog is to you? I am loyal," with each descriptor you gave an instant push against his chest, as if to punctuate each point, "diligent, protective, you know I'd follow you to hell and back, it makes me happy to make you happy, and yes, Felix, just like a dog, I can be obedient," Felix's gaze is shocked as you lay it all out before him. Your voice lowers, Oliver can barely hear you over the music in the next room, "but unlike a dog, I was not trained to love you, to stick by you like I do; that is a choice I made. That is a choice I continue to make happily every single day of my life. Every other asshole who calls me a dog can see it, most of them are fucking jealous because I am the one you choose to keep by your side. Why would I ever take issue with being called that? What do I have to be jealous of? I am the dog, Felix Catton, and I am yours."
It's... reductive, Oliver thinks, but it has to be to get your point across, so he keeps that to himself. He knows all too well how old this sore spot is between you two, far older than his place in your relationship. Perhaps if things hadn't worked out quite so well for him, or if he weren't so secure in his relationship with you both, perhaps he'd worry, be jealous of how you're speaking once more like you and Felix only have each other. But her knows you're not, knows that you're speaking to the version of Felix who can't let go of his discomfort at the title's implications. Part of Felix would always listen to you above all others, even Oliver, but Oliver himself had in part fallen for the way you two loved each other, he lives seeing that connection still strong, bright and alive, and knowing that you've both still chosen to love him too.
Felix, a few feet away, looks suddenly conflicted, almost upset as he tries to process and reconcile your words. However, when Felix can't seem to give a proper reaction, a look of disappointment crosses over your face, and you turn sharply, stalking from the room, from the club entirely.
"It still feels demeaning to them," Felix has been sulking the entire walk back to campus, he and Oliver having left not too long after you. Oliver bites his tongue on the fact that he knows you get off on being demeaned in the right circumstances; Felix is off course aware of this, but not the true extent. Instead, all Oliver offers is a non-committal hum. Felix pouts, still mostly talking to himself, "'s rude," he mumbled, "'s a mean thing to call someone; dog..." Though it sounds almost like a question.
"So you'd be mad if someone called you Y/N's dog?" Oliver says with a surprising amount of casualness considering he has no idea where his boldness came from. Beside him, Felix goes very quiet. Oliver pointedly doesn't look at him.
"That's different," Felix finally managed after several long, strained moments in which he'd thoroughly considered Oliver's words. Except Felix hasn't managed to sound nearly as casual as Oliver, the poor boy sounds rather abashed at the thought, though he still tries to play it off, albeit unsuccessfully, "Ollie, that's- that's completely different."
"How's it different?" Oliver needles him subtly, still giving Felix a modicum of privacy from his ever watchful eyes.
"Because it is," Felix insists, before blurring out - "because it's never happened!"
When Oliver finally looks over at Felix, he keeps his expression just on the positive side of neutral, only to be met with the sight of Felix, wide eyed, and faintly flush. Oliver blinks.
"But you are," he says easily. Felix's lips press into a thin line, face turning steadily darker with his blush as he finally stops walking. Oliver can read the 'the fuck do you mean by that?' all across Felix's flustered, intoxicated features before the man can even open his mouth to ask, so Oliver stops walking too, elaborating without hesitation, "if we're going by Y/N's metrics for what a good dog is, aren't you one too?"
This conversation was completely unexpected for Oliver too, despite how he was the one who pushed it in this direction. Beautiful, expressive Felix is already growing less tense as he turns the thoughts over in his mind. Oliver, eager to help him along on his path to acceptance, reiterates the values you'd laid out in the club -
"Loyal, diligent, protective," he lists easily, "you know you'd follow them anywhere, and do anything to make them happy," he doesn't have to say that Felix can be obedient to you to know they're both thinking it. Instead, Oliver shrugs, "but you're Felix Catton, of course no-ones going to call you a dog."
"What?" Felix's deliberation finally gives way in the face of confusion.
"Everyone knows Y/N loves you, but they don't want to think about you loving Y/N back."
"But I do," Felix's soft voice sounds so hurt by the very idea, "everyone knows I do." Oliver's own expression softens as he steps forward. Felix's brow creases in what can only be described as disappointed confusion.
"I know," he assures smoothly, "that's other people's problem, its not fair on either of you." Oliver's hand is gentle on Felix's shoulder, but Felix is still clearly bothered, even as they start walking again.
"Maybe that's why it bothered you so much," Oliver finally speaks again when they're back on campus. Felix doesn't speak, but does look to Oliver with an expression of clear confusion, "because you didn't like the idea of people thinking Y/N loved you more than you loved them." After a moment, Felix sighs, making a faint, disappointed hum of agreement.
"Did you think that?" Felix asked softly after a moment, "before you really knew us, is that what you thought of us too?" He sounds almost disappointed at the thought. Oliver, however, has to fight back a smile.
"Not even for a fuckin' second," he admits with a sharp laugh, and Felix immediately perks up with intrigue and something almost like relief, though Oliver's tone is amused as he continues, "I honestly couldn't believe no-one else could see it; never seen anyone quite so dedicated to taking care of their dog as Y/N was to looking out for you."
Felix turns bright red once more, but he's wearing that big, bashful grin Oliver's always loved.
"I am, aren't I?" Felix sounds almost giddy at the thought. Oliver feels like there's fireworks going off in his chest.
"Y/N really can't go anywhere without their dog either," Oliver teases, lovingly parroting the words that had been so cruelly overheard at the club. If Felix were any drunker or happier, he probably would have started actually skipping. As it was, however, the two of them approaching Felix's dorm building, he wraps an arm around Oliver's shoulders.
"You know all that stuff they said, all that stuff about being a good dog, you know that's how we feel about you too, Ollie," Felix can clearly tell the minute Oliver's brain short circuits, because he laughs and plants a kiss on Oliver's cheek, "sorry if you're more of a cat person, mate," he teases, as if he hadn't just suddenly rewired something in his boyfriend's brain.
You and Felix. YouAndFelix. Both love him the way a dog loves their owner. It goes beyond even any lewd fantasies he'd had; a year ago he was watching you both through his window, talking and laughing in the afternoon sun, wishing desperately that he could work up the courage to talk to either of you, befriend you.
But you and Felix - YouAndFelix, together, individually, in every single way Oliver can conceive the idea of you - both love him. Our Ollie, the way he's heard spoken so lovingly, sounds so much sweeter than he'd ever even imagined.
"You're both very sweet to me," Oliver hears himself mumble as he and Felix finally find themselves outside of Felix's door. Everything feels like it's spinning, in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol, and everything to do with the way Felix is smiling at him. Instead of answering, though Oliver's sure there's half a dozen teasing or sappy comments trapped in the tip of Felix's tongue, he kisses him instead. Felix always seemed to know exactly when Oliver was overwhelmed with their shared reality, and always took his time to admire that look in Oliver's eyes. Now was no different.
He's always thought Oliver was so strange, so queer, so different from everyone else in his life, and so clearly loved him for it.
Felix finally is the one to break the moment, knocking lightly on the door, knowing you well enough to anticipate where you'd be despite your earlier anger. As if on cue, you sighed heavily on the other side of the door, before inviting them in.
While Felix barely gives you time to react where you're in your pyjamas, sitting in his bed in the lamp light, not even kicking off his shoes before he throws himself into your lap, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pressed his face against your thigh, Oliver hovers by the door.
"Hi, sorry, hi, love you," escapes Felix in a rush. Despite your conflicted expression, the way your hand comes to rest on his head, carding through his hair is automatic. It's an endearing, amusing sight to Oliver, considering the night that had just passed. He knows you're looking at him, questioning gaze searching for some kind of explanation for Felix's change of behaviour, but Oliver lets himself linger a few moments longer on watching Felix's almost childishly clingy behaviour.
He struggles to kick off his shoes for a moment before he finally managed, and hitch a leg up, over both of yours, still in his jeans and jacket but refusing to be anything but wrapped up in you.
"I'm not staying," is what Oliver finally says, despite the gentle affection in his voice. You frown faintly, but still seem more confused than upset, "I think you two need to talk," he explains. Despite the way your mouth flattens into a thin line, you're still gently petting Felix's hair. Still, Oliver steels himself, giving you a strange little smile, "you're a good dog, Y/N," he says pointedly. This seems to surprise you, but not as much as Felix's sitting echo.
"Such a good dog," he agrees with a fond sigh, half muffled against you. Immediately your confusion, your concern drops in favour of sweet, hopeful shock. But Oliver continues before he shuts the door, smile growing into a grin.
"So are you, Felix," and Felix's head shoots up so he can level a bright, sunny smile over his shoulder at Oliver. Christ, Oliver can practically see his tail wagging.
"Love you, Ollie," Felix beams cheerfully. While Oliver echoes the sentiment back at you both as he closes the door, you can't seem to look away from Felix.
Something warm and pleased and satisfied curls itself comfortably in Oliver's chest on the brief walk back to his own room. It goes beyond any selfish, sexual desires he's had, not that there wasn't an element of that, of course, but he can't stop thinking about the joy in Felix's expression, or the way you'd disbelieving smile you'd been wearing when Oliver had closed the door. An old ache beginning to heal.
The change is subtle at first. At least, from the outside.
After that fateful summer, the three of you had made no secret of your relationship. Felix had always been tactile and clingy and prone to shows of affection, you had always made a point to make Oliver feel included and welcome and like you craved his company, while Oliver himself had never made any secret of whose attention and contact he preferred in any group setting. So he's sure, to their friends, the three of you seem to be the same as you've always been.
Farleigh had once scoffed at the pub that the three of you were insufferably gross, and while the rest of the group at the table had agreed, it had been more teasing than malicious; on one side of Oliver, you'd pressed your laughter into his shoulder, while Felix had throw his arm around Oliver and chided Farleigh not to be jealous, wearing a wide, easy smile.
Oliver and Farleigh still may not exactly see eye to eye, but things had gotten easier between them. Across the table, Farleigh met Oliver's bashful gaze and though he'd rolled his eyes, though he seemed exasperated by all three of you, there was warmth in his eyes. He may not love Oliver, but he still loved you and Felix; baby steps.
So all that to say that at first the change is so subtle that even the ever-watchful Farleigh, who knows you and Felix better than any of your other friends, doesn't even notice.
But oh, Oliver feels the change right away.
He honestly thought the three of you weren't able to get closer, but he's never been more thrilled to be wrong. Never afraid or jealous of each other living your own lives, it just seemed that when you're around each other, you weren't interested in being seen as an individual. More possessive in the most affectionate way. Always in some kind of obvious contact, arguably too close for the comfort of others, not that any of you cared. Oliver, always shadowed by his beautiful guard dogs.
"Can I wear this?" You ask casually one evening, drinking cheap vodka and juice as you waited for Oliver to get ready to go out. When Oliver turns, half dressed after a shower, he sees you holding one of the chains he always found himself wearing. He doesn't think twice before agreeing, doesn't even think much of the request at the time. The significance is missed on him until the two of you meet up with Felix in the line for the club and he pulls you by the chain, in for a kiss. You're still holding Oliver's hand, fingers linked with his. Reading Felix's kiss for the compliment it is, you grin sharply as you pull back, stepping up beside him in line.
"Thanks, it's Ollie's."
"I know," Felix snorts a laugh, throwing an arm around you as he gives Oliver himself a sly smile, "you look good too, mate, how're you going?" You squeeze Oliver's hand, leaning into him for a moment with a coy smile. Your free hand is playing with his chain around your throat. Like you know exactly where his mind has suddenly gone.
Oliver already knows how this night will end, and it doesn't disappoint.
Neither he nor Felix can seem to leave you or the chain around your neck well enough alone, and you're clearly love it. You let yourself be lead around, let them lavish you with affection in dark corners, wearing a smile that's all teeth when you meet the surprised, scandalised gazes of those who gawked rather than averted their gaze.
In the back of the taxi on the way to campus, you're impossibly affectionate, like an excited puppy as you try and split your attention to your boyfriends either side of you.
"Settle down, love," Felix takes your hand in his, keeping you momentarily still, even as you pout.
"We'll be home soon," Oliver murmurs quietly, trying to act casual as he looks out the window, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. A faint, impatient whine escapes you, but you acquiesce, leaning your head on Felix's shoulder even as a fond laugh rumbles from his chest.
The cabbie has the radio on in the front, pointedly ignoring the three of you. But the music is loud enough that he doesn't hear the soft, approving way Felix mutters in your ear -
"Good dog."
But Oliver hears, feels the way your thighs momentarily clench together, hears the breathless, needy 'fucking hell, Fi' that escapes you. His grin grows wider.
On the walk back to your room - always cleaner than Felix's, and with a bigger, nicer bed than Oliver's - you're quiet, seemingly focusing very hard on staying that way, even as Oliver and Felix are bantering easily either side of you. Hands to yourself - well, metaphorically, Oliver and Felix are both holding one of your hands, Felix, feeling particularly joyful swings your linked hands in wide arcs between you - you listen diligently, and chime in whenever you felt your input was needed. Oliver thinks you're being incredibly endearing, but once the door is closed and the rest of the world is cut off from the three of you, Felix softly asks if you're okay.
Surprise lights up across your face the minute the question is spoken. It hadn't even occurred to you that Felix wouldn't understand your behaviour in this moment; this is far newer to him than it is to you. But then you look to Oliver, almost like you're afraid that he wouldn't understand either.
But he does, of course.
There's a faint thrill that courses through him realising that for what is perhaps the first time since he'd met you, he can read you better than Felix. That Felix was yet to understand how far from reluctant or uncomfortable you were in that moment.
Felix had told you to settle, called you a good dog when you had. So now you were trying your hardest to remain settled, to remain good. How delightfully obedient you were in these moments, in this headspace.
Oliver finally gave you a warm smile, shrugging off his jacket.
"They're being good is all," he says casually, drawing Felix's confused attention as you broke out into a wide smile at the praise. Again, Oliver has a flash, a mental image of a tail wagging with joy behind you.
"I'm being good, I'm being settled," you reiterated pointedly, standing carefully by the foot of the bed. Once more, however, you've started fussing with the chain around your neck. Felix looks back to you, as if he still can't quite grasp the full scope of what's happening, and laughs lightly.
"You're so fucking cute," he grinned, "love, you didn't have to stay settled all the way back here."
"I didn't?" Your eyes go wide with confusion, and you look again to Oliver, as if for confirmation, "but I..."
Oliver can feel his heart beating in his throat. Oh, right, he's the one who's done this before, he's the one who started this all, at least this version of this dynamic. You aren't Felix's dog in this moment, you are his.
"You did good, pet, don't worry" Oliver assures you, soothing you with a gentle tone as he steps towards you and takes your face in his hands, kissing you on the forehead. Wearing a grateful little smile, you regard him lovingly for a few moments, before he steps away and you turn your focus back to Felix. There's a hungry kind of intrigue in his big, brown eyes now as he takes the scene in with newfound understanding.
"You really are a good dog," Felix marvels approvingly. Your whole face lights up at that, stumbling a few steps forwards, as if you hadn't meant to move but needed to be close to him. Nodding furiously in agreement, your fingers fidget like you're trying desperately not to reach for him. Felix steps towards you, his smile growing wider as he does so, "mine- ours?" He corrects, wrapping his arms around you, and finally your resolve breaks.
"Both," you assure in a rushed breath before you're pulling him in, kissing him frantically, as all the longing you'd held back since you'd been told to settle floods through you. Once fidgeting hands now start frantically tugging at clothing, both yours and his, but Felix is matching your energy entirely. Oliver gets hit in the face with your jacket as it's flung across the room but neither you nor Felix notices. In his enthusiastic haste several of the buttons on your nice, expensive shirt are ripped off, pinging around the room.
Not that Oliver actually minds.
Still in his jeans, he leans his hip against your desk and watches for a few long moments with both a lewd appreciation, and amusement. Perhaps another day, or when it was just the two of you, Felix would invest himself properly in a version of this fantasy where you truly are his dog. Tonight, however, Oliver sees opportunity in the obvious, messy, needy way Felix is pawing at you. An opportunity for his plan to finally be realised, and he's not letting it pass him by.
When you fall back on the bed, Felix braced over you, your hand finding his fly while the two of you still haven't stopped to really breathe, Oliver sticks two fingers in his mouth to let out a sharp whistle.
Immediately there's silence, the attention of both of you having immediately snapped to Oliver. Shaking his head with faux exasperation, Oliver sighs loudly, as if terribly put upon.
"Can't take you two anywhere," he tsked, crossing his arms over his chest, "pair of naughty fuckin' puppies, you can't leave each other alone."
Felix blinks quickly, as if caught of guard by the shift in tension, the dynamic.
"Ollie, what are you -"
"Ollie, don't be mean, Fi's the best dog, take that back!" You chided despite your wide grin.
"Is he now?" Oliver asks archly, smirking at you both. Felix isn't quite looking at him, expression drawn and thoughtful as he processed this change, turned it over in his mind. Slowly, he looks down at you, at your soft, warm smile. A silent conversation between you both, one of many that Oliver will only ever be able to guess at, and you close your eyes as you sit up enough to press your forehead to Felix's.
Felix visibly relaxed, which you must feel judging by the way you grin.
"It's fun, I promise," your whisper, though in the cool, quiet night, Oliver can still hear it clearly.
"But he called me naughty, I can't believe it," Felix whined playfully, causing you to laugh as the two of you sank back down on the bed. Felix tucked himself up beside you, face half hidden where he was pressing his lips to your shoulder to hide his little smile, "you're so mean to me, Ollie." It sounded as though he was pouting, but his eyes betrayed him, nervous and tentative to be adapting and playing along with the bit, but clearly more than a little excited too. There's also something tearing, almost challenging about the way Felix was running his fingertips up and down the side of your chest.
"You are being naughty," Oliver finally pushes off of the desk, sauntering over to the bed, "both of you acting like I didn't exist."
"Can you blame me?" You actually giggled, sounding downright gleeful, "look at who we get to play with!" Felix flushed at that, pressing his bashful smile against your shoulder. Oliver finds himself really quite taken with how you've chosen to adapt to having Felix by your side in this fantasy.
"If I can't blame you," Oliver says with faint notes of faux warning in his voice as he sits by you both on the bed, "are you saying I should blame Felix? Is our new pet a bad influence." You stumble over your words for moment, searching for a denial, but Felix's head shoots up at that, his eyes wide as he props himself up on the bed beside you.
"Hey, I'm a good influence! I'm good!" He insists, the words coming to him so automatically that it seems to startle even him before he properly focuses back on Oliver's fond amusement. Felix grins sheepishly at his own enthusiasm, ducking his head to look instead at you as he reiterated with a soft giggle, "I'm good."
"I think you're very good," there's love on your tongue, in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Then, in the next moment, you wriggle yourself over to rest your head against Oliver's thighs, gazing up at him with a pout, "come on, Ollie, don't be mean," you practically whined, while Felix himself half draped himself across your middle, his head resting on your belly as he turned his full attention and hopeful brown eyes upon your boyfriend. It was far more convincing than Oliver had been expecting, and he actually feels his hard resolve beginning to falter under the combined force of both your longing gazes.
"We're sorry for neglecting you," you add sweetly, expression earnest as your fingers begin to card through Felix's hair. For a moment, Oliver watches the way Felix's eyes fall closed, leaning into the sensation.
"Can we make it up to you?" Despite Felix's soft voice, his smile was already all kinds of pleased and contented, "we're good at that," he insists. God, Oliver knows all too well that you both are; fucking hell, part of him may never believe this isn't a dream. Except he knows his definitely not dreaming when he feels the delicate touch of your free hand on his knee, moving higher - or as high as you're able given the awkward angle your arm is at.
"Play with us, let us make it up to you," giving Oliver thigh a squeeze you grinned up at him. Without giving him a moment to respond, however, you made a tsk noise in the back of your throat, "you're so overdressed. Fi -" you tap Felix's head gently to get his attention once more, and Felix's eyes open, alight and at attention, "he's so overdressed, don't you think?" Immediately Felix is sitting up, agreeing.
"Think we should help him with that," Felix says frankly, wearing a pleased little grin like he's excited to be helpful. All over-eager and enthusiastic, both you and Felix are suddenly all over Oliver, working together to get him out of his jeans before he can even wonder where he'd lost control of the situation.
Playfully victorious, you're peppering Oliver's face with excited kisses as Felix is kneeling by the bed, tugging the now free jeans down his thighs. Despite the chaos of it all, Oliver's laughing loud and bright, trying his best to get his arms around you to still some of the kinetic love you're showering him with.
"Come on, Ollie," Felix, however, gets caught up halfway through his own job, and presses a kiss to his knee, hands coming to rest, flat and warm on Oliver's thighs, "how'd you expect to get off with those on?" But he sounds so light and joyful; Oliver's heart is fucking singing in this moment.
"Oi, sit," Oliver tries to order between his own laughter and your lips on his every few moments. It takes him another second to claw back some of his composure, "both of you, sit," at least this time you both listen, despite him still radiating breathless amusement.
Felix looks to you for a moment, watches the way you settle yourself, cross-legged and hands in your lap as you fought back a smile, and sits back on his heels, wearing a sheepish grin of his own as he looks back to Oliver. Oliver has to take a moment to compose himself, barely restraining his own laughter, before he kick his pants off from around his ankles. Felix takes the opportunity to then lean in and rest his chin on Oliver's knee, wide, affectionate grin on his face that Oliver practically melts at. He can't help himself -
"Who's a good boy?" He teases Felix, reaching over to scratch at Felix's scalp lightly. Again, Felix eyes close at his nose scrunches with a strange little smile.
"If it's not me I'm actually going to be so upset," he mutters, sounding almost embarrassed by the thought. It takes a moment for his words to sink, and he followed it with a snort of amusement, before all three of you are laughing in the warm privacy of your bedroom, and this moment.
"Of course it's you," Oliver reassures him, coaxing him up onto the bed, shifting to sit back against the headboard with room for you both on either side. Felix looks far less embarrassed and far more pleased now, leaning in when Oliver coaxes him in for a kiss, "my helpful, good boy," Oliver murmurs against his lips, and Felix lets out a breathless, pleased noise as he wraps an arm around Oliver's neck, kissing him back almost desperately. Oliver would always love how Felix was so wonderfully consistent when it came to his praise kink.
Beside him, he can feel you shift on the bed, and in the next moment, your hand is on his thigh. When he and Felix both look to you, breaking their focus on one another, you've settled yourself by Oliver's thighs. Leaning in, you gently nudge at his cock where it's staining against the material of his boxers with your nose, before proceeding to kiss softly up his shaft through the material. Sing when you reach the head, you sit back a little, giving pause as two of your fingers hooked into the elastic of his waistband. Finally met his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly, want in your eyes that has Oliver's already quick heartrate thundering in his chest.
"Thought I told you to sit," he says wryly. You wet your lips, hips shifting a little.
"I am sitting," you pointed out, which set Felix off, had him pressing his amused chuckle against Oliver's shoulder. You did, however, remain obediently still. Except for the challenging smile that graced your lips, "wanted to make up for ignoring you."
Felix's laughter, however, had died down at that, and the hand that had been around Oliver was now trailing feather-light down his bare chest, past your own, to wrap around Oliver's aching hard cock, still trapped behind a thin layer of cotton.
"Just gotta say the word," Felix murmurs into his ear. His hand begins to slowly work up and down Oliver's cock. Oliver watches you lean down and press a kiss to the soft skin of his belly, by his hip, just above his waistband, while Felix was pressing languid kisses along his jaw.
"Both so good to me," Oliver groaned, gently pushing at Felix's shoulder, though he takes the hint and joins you by Oliver's thighs.
A moment passes between you both, Felix taking your face in his free hand and pulling you in for an intense kiss that only somehow manages to make Oliver even more painfully turned on than he already was. Both still half dressed, you're both practically overflowing with love for each other and Oliver in this moment. The kiss breaks and youre both grinning foreheads pressed together; Oliver's never been truly able to read the exact things that pass between you in these moments of silent communication, but he thinks he sees 'see, I told you this was fun' in the way you smile.
And as much as he adores this moment, he's pretty sure if someone doesn't actually touch his dick soon he's going to die.
"'s there a reason you're keeping me waiting?" Oliver asks archly; Felix's grin grows wider, while you give him a faintly guilty smile, apologising softly before you pull down his boxers. Finally.
Oliver's hips buck the second your fingers wrap around him, leaning down with intent to -
"Hey!" Felix almost sounds indignant that you'd taken his place, a thought which sends a thrill through Oliver. You look up at this, but the minute you're distracted Felix has bent down to run his tongue along the head of Oliver's cock, tasting the precum beading there before he's taking Oliver into his mouth.
"Fi, that's cheating!" You whined, pouting with your free hand braced against Oliver's thigh - "Ollie, Fi's cheating!" You pouted, to which Felix raised his head to defend himself, gleefully and entirely submersed in this roleplay.
"I'm not cheating," he tried to declare, however you dipped down in an attempt to usurp him. Felix, seemingly anticipating this, refuses to move, instead letting you headbutt him, the two of you in a playful stalemate while you attempted to keep up a consistent rhythm with your hand still on Oliver's cock. Tension, with neither of you backing down, breaks only when one of you - though Oliver's genuinely not sure which - seems to realise the reality of the situation, and how close you both are, and suddenly you're aggressively making out.
Not in Oliver's wildest dreams would he ever have imagined that he could have the two of you fighting over who gets the privilege of going down on him. It's going to take all of his willpower if he wants to last much longer. But he needs to last at least a bit longer, needs to take back control, to make sure this plays out well for both of you too.
So Oliver calls your name, and you and Felix break apart. Your eyes are on Oliver, wide eyed and breathing hard.
"No fighting," he chided, and you wet your lips, sitting back a little as Felix takes this as his victory. Oliver coaxes you up to him, part of him sad to lose the feeling of your talented fingers around him, but Felix is more than capable, and more than makes up for it. Oliver wraps an arm around you, his free hand guiding one of yours to Felix's head as it bobbed up and down between Oliver's thighs, "you're going to help him, you can do that, can't you?" His words are gentle, commanding, and even as you still seem to be playing at sulking, you give a small nod. Felix groans appreciatively as your grip tightens on his hair, which Oliver echoes as he feels it himself.
You're beginning to squirm. Good. He's been utterly thrilled by how tonight has been playing out, but Oliver always enjoys when you finally fall into being desperately obedient. He wants to show Felix how good of a dog you really are.
Oliver pulls you in closer, nose to nose, smirking as the playful fight in you was giving way quickly to pure desire.
"Our good boy, isn't he? Our Felix," Oliver's voice is loud enough for you both to hear; Felix moans around his cock, shifting to get a better angle, to take Oliver deeper, as deep as he can. Your breath catches, pupils blown wide. There was something truly, almost sickeningly fascinating about what he could only describe as your Praise-Kink-By-Proxy; you clearly got off to the way Oliver lusted over Felix, that much was made clear that night in the bathtub at Saltburn, and Oliver could see it in your eyes again now.
"Our Felix," you'd mumbled breathlessly, casting your gaze to him as Oliver lazily trialled kisses down your jaw and throat. Felix doesn't stop, your hand on his head still making sure he keeps a consistent rhythm, but he does look up, does meet your lust-filled gaze, does see how your hips and thigh are shifting. Oliver brings your gaze back to him by tugging at his chain around your throat, and it's all you need to kiss him. He doesn't let it go. Sloppy and passionate, he moans Felix's name into your mouth and you whimper desperately at the sound. His hips are rolling, matching Felix's rhythm as his cockhead presses insistently against the back of his throat, and you're panting and whining and unable to find any real relief -
"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Oliver murmured sharply the minute he feels you reaching for the waistband of your own pants with your free hand. You whimpered, and his grip on the chain around your neck grows tighter. Squeezing your eyes closed as you shook your head, traitorous hand moving to dig your fingernails into your thigh, "are you going to settle down for me?" He whispered, lips brushing yours as you squirmed helplessly.
"This is unfair," you moaned, and Oliver's grip around you grew tighter, "Ollie, please -"
"You fucking love when I'm unfair to you," he hissed with an almost cruel smugness as you gasped, hips beginning to roll and rutt against nothing.
"Ollie, don't be mean," Felix raised his head, hand going still on Oliver's desperately twitching cock, an actual note of warning in his voice. Oliver smirks at him, all lazy, arrogant confidence. He maneuvers you, pulls you back from him to let Felix properly see the way your lip is beginning to tremble with how desperate you were for satisfaction or even just a hint of relief. Still, you tried to press yourself against him, even as your back arched wantonly and your thighs pressed together, shifting in search of friction that was still upsetting absent from where you desired it most.
"You think I'm being too mean right now?" Oliver whispered in your ear; unfortunately for you, Oliver knows all too well how much you love this game. After a moment of hesitation, your gaze locked with Felix's. It's as if you're embarrassed to be seen in this state, the way you'd so willingly let Oliver drive you mad with desire. Averting your gaze from Felix's, you swallow hard.
"No," the single word comes out as a sulky kind of whimper.
"And why's that?" Oliver prompted, adding slyly, "you made Felix worry." He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.
"He's -" you tired your head back with a desperate groan as Oliver raked the nails of his free hand up your side, "he's always good to me in the end." You pouted, clearly still thinking it was unfair being denied in the moment.
"You promise?" Felix asks firmly, looking Oliver in the eyes now.
"Promise," Oliver smirks back, whispering against your skin that if you're a good for him, he'll let Felix play with you. The desperate noise that escapes you is incredibly telling, and one Oliver knows all too well as the indication that you were on the edge of being incoherent. Good, he loves getting you to this point, and loves even more the way Felix is looking at you right now.
"You're doing so well, Felix, don't keep them waiting," Oliver insisted. At that you reached out once more, hand coming to rest on Felix's head, petting him gently before he allowed you to guide him back down to Oliver's spit-slicked and waiting cock. Oliver's grip on the chain shifts, the metal loose between his fingers as he carefully, delicately, wraps his hand around your throat. Your pleading expression is so deliciously needy when Oliver pulls you back in against him.
"Good dog," he presses the praise against your trembling lips.
It's like a beautiful symphony, better than any wet dream or fantasy he'd ever had, and he hadn't even fucked either of you yet. He moans Felix's name into your mouth when he finally comes undone, his hand resting on yours atop Felix's hair as he takes it all and swallows every last drop.
"So fucking good, Felix," Oliver's breathing hard as he comes down from the euphoric high he'd just experienced, scratching gently at Felix's scalp as he raised his head, pleased grin on his face. When Felix sits up, out of both of your grips, your hand immediately goes between your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but still fighting the urge, trapping it while still making your intent obvious.
But while Oliver is more than satisfied, you, tucked up against him, are all but a mess as he cradled you close.
"Come on, Ollie," Felix climbs over his legs to be by your side. His smile is warm and fond, and when Felix's hand comes to rest on your hip, your soft, whining noises become more audible, "the poor thing deserves a treat."
Oliver feels the way you shiver and tense with anticipation at Felix's words, nose then bumping insistently against Oliver's jaw, keening noises catching in your throat. You were begging in the only way you have left, now that you'd found yourself deep enough in this headspace.
"Look at him," Oliver murmured, sounding almost proud as you turned your desperate, hopeful gaze upon Felix, "he's even being good to you."
Taking it as a blessing, you're immediately scrambling to your knees by Felix, no longer whining, and clearly overjoyed. One hand pulling him in for a kiss, your other was frantically trying to remove your pants.
"Not ignoring you," Felix insisted to Oliver as you'd broken the kiss if only to pitch yourself back on the bed in an effort to wriggle desperately out of your pants, "just -"
"Settle down," Oliver ordered suddenly, and you suddenly went still, ceasing the way you'd been fighting with your pants around your ankles, "help them, Felix," she sighs with fond exasperation. Of course Felix does, but it's like a switch has flipped; he's back on board, a good dog still, just like you. Once your pants are off, Felix is trailing kisses up your legs, much to your clear glee -
"You puppies are so stupid," Oliver shakes his head, affection in his words, "you're lucky you're cute," but still both of you turn to him with a a sad kind of confusion. Oliver tries not to laugh, he really tries, you're both somehow hot and adorable at the same time, "Felix, you're still wearing pants."
Somehow, this seems to surprise both of you, and again you're up 'I can help, I can help, I can help' radiating enthusiastically from you as you make quick work of finally undoing Felix's fly, as you'd attempted to earlier in the evening. The two of you share soft giggles as Felix's hard cock is freed and his pants are tossed to the side, leaving him standing on the floor at the edge of the bed where you're up on your knees, looking up at him. Like this, he still manages to dwarf you, and Oliver watches with an aroused fascination as this moment plays out.
Felix doesn't speak, it's as if he's matching your energy, understanding your headspace, he's confident and even cocky in a way that Oliver doesn't often see from him. He remembers saying 'if you're good, I'll let Felix play with you' and it seemed some primative part of Felix's mind has taken that to heart as he held tight to the chain around your throat, leaning in with an unmistakable huger in his eyes. It has you practically melting, hands on his hips, not daring to stray further without his approval. He doesn't even kiss you, he holds you at bay with his lips inches from yours and a hand firm on your collar, drinking in your desperation. You begin to whimper again, shifting your weight back and forth, hips rocking in anticipation; Oliver's sure he'll be able to see the marks your nails leave on Felix's hips when you finally let go.
Another silent conversation between you both, but so clear, so loud, so simple Oliver can hear it loud and clear. Felix is telling you, in no uncertain terms, that in this moment you are his, and every part of you agrees. Yet Oliver knows with a smug, self satisfaction, that he with one word you would both be by his side. So he'll let you both have this.
A year ago, he would have paid his entire life savings and then some to get to see you two in a moment like this. Already, he's getting hard again; a familiar, voyeuristic thrill runs through him as he drinks you both in, taking his cock in hand.
Felix barely has to tip his head, letting go of your necklace, before you're moving quickly, a moment vague and indecipherable to anyone else is a clear directive for you to turn. It's a flurry of movement after that, of Felix's hands on you, on your hips to pull you close, your lower back to have you bending, face pressed to the mattress. Your ass in the air, presented to him perfectly, he slides into you, drawing unholy noises from you both after so long spent waiting already that night.
Oliver basks in this moment, can only imagine how good you must feel right now, all tight and warm and completely and utterly desperate to be filled. Felix's groan is its own kind of beautiful, finally finding his voice again as absolutely filthy praise spills from his lips. Hips rocking back to meet each of Felix's slow, deep thrusts, your breathing is shaky amid the low, pleased noises that escape you. Beautiful, a creature of mindless want and desire, you've got one shaking hand between your thighs as the other reaches out, searching blindly for Oliver.
Face pressed into the plush duvet, you link your fingers with Oliver's the moment he reaches out to you. Your grip is tight, and he runs his thumbs in comforting rhythms against your hands, something pleased, loving, and so fucking turned on as Felix was quickly coming to fuck you like an absolute animal. The way you so desperately craved.
"Perfect," Felix moaned, "god you're so fucking perfect for us, pet, aren't you?" Nodding weakly, as much as your able, you clutch at Oliver's hand; his teasing had clearly already worked you up, brought you close. Both of you.
"Our good dog," Oliver murmurs, just to hear you whimper.
Fuck, he can't wait to watch you come undone.
Can't wait to make you both sit, roll over, beg.
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🗒 ꒰⸝⸝₊ General Dating Headcanons ❛ ✧
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Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Wyll & Halsin
# Note: content warning for very brief talk of abuse and general trauma back to navigation ´ˎ˗
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🌿┊ASTARION
Talk about touch and attention starved. This guy wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it hit him in the face. Whenever you're nice to him or touch him without any innuendo, he's on edge. You must want something from him. Why else would you be doing this? It doesn't make sense.
Speaking of which, touching him out of nowhere usually doesn't end well. He has a tendency to flinch. He cackles and says he just thought he saw a bug, "Silly me," but you both know better than that.
He grows used to it, however. It just takes some warming up to. Eventually, the discomfort fades, replaced by a yearning so strong he swore he felt his heart beat again. When his brain realizes you don't want to hurt him and it's safe to be around you, he starts craving more contact. He's too prideful to ask, but he's not good at hiding it, either.
He loves any kind of compliment, don't get him wrong, but the ones that have nothing to do with his appearance seem to stick more. He's heard every single little praise possible for his face and body — but for his personality? For his mannerisms? If it ever happened before, he can't remember it.
Insists he doesn't like cuddling and only does it because you want to. But the one night you didn't, you woke up to him clinging to you anyway. He said he must've done so in his sleep, completely ignoring the fact elves can't sleep. Deception: critical failure.
Surprisingly protective. If you get hurt during a fight he goes ham on the enemy while yelling for someone else to take care of your wounds right now. He lost everything he had after Cazador — lost even himself to the hands of that sick, wicked man. He can't afford to lose you too.
The relationship started with him trying to manipulate you, sure, but that's not the case anymore. He cares. He genuinely cares for something other than himself for the first time in two centuries, and he's scared you still think you're being tricked by his charms. Again, he's too prideful for constant displays of affection, but he does say "I love you" more often than ever. Maybe if he says it enough times, you'll believe it.
He stares a lot. There's just something so endearing about seeing you in your own little world, oblivious to everything else, or at least oblivious to his gawking. It's the most honest part of you, the most yourself you could be, and he enjoys it from afar.
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🌿┊GALE
So needy. You leave him at camp for a few hours and you come back to him acting like he needs to be sent to the seaside for his health. A year of living as a hermit does things to a man's necessities for attention.
Loves your scent. He doesn't share his clothes with anyone (that fabric is expensive, dammit), but he insists you wear them so that they smell like you later.
Despite being a cat owner, he's very dog-coded. Will do things with the sole purpose of receiving praise or kisses from you and gets extremely pouty when he doesn't.
Speaking of kisses, he takes any excuse conceivable to kiss you. Good morning, good night and good luck kisses are very much mandatory. Doesn't even have to be on his lips, he's more than satisfied with a cheek or forehead kiss as well.
He enjoys being taken care of, even if he complains. When you scold him for not sleeping over some ancient tome, he can't help but feel loved. Will return the favour, of course — especially if it comes to food. He's very insistent with the "three meals a day" thing.
Will read to you, there's no way around it. It's relaxing for both of you, so he doesn't see why he shouldn't. He also says he can pay attention better to the text when he says it out loud, anyway. You having your head on his lap as he does it is merely a bonus.
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🌿┊WYLL
If this man has any flaw, it's that he's always trying to make every moment you spend together perfect and forgets to just lay back and enjoy himself. Even then, he only does it because of how much he loves you.
The last romantic! Goes all out with dates and gifts — fancy restaurants and the biggest bouquets you've ever seen. Money is no object when it comes to you. Truly a good old-fashioned lover boy.
Definitely has a saviour complex — the type to say "I can fix them" unironically. He just loved you and wants you to be okay, and if he has to drag you there himself he will.
Will go on rants about how smitten he is with you and how perfect you are on a daily basis. If you have to leave for the day, he'll write it as a love letter instead.
Always holding you close, but there's no possessiveness to it. It's a display of affection, not ownership. He's yours as much as you are his.
Loves taking showers together. Not for any sexual reason (though he wouldn't complain if things ended up going down that path), he just finds it incredibly intimate and genuinely enjoys washing your hair for you.
You're not just another romance to him — you're the love of his life, the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with, if the gods allow it.
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🌿┊HALSIN
Despite the whole "Desire flourishes wherever it finds purchase" thing, he genuinely doesn't see himself falling for anyone else as he did for you. It's nice to know he could still indulge if he wanted, but for now, he doesn't.
Loves having his hair played with. There's just something so soothing about it. Or maybe it's his wild shape talking, asking for pets. We'll never know.
Always finds an excuse for you to sit on his lap. Again, not for sexual reasons, he just likes wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head or shoulder.
Even though he isn't one for commitment, he has a constant, extremely severe case of baby fever. He obviously wouldn't push you if you're not ready, but he does make his sentiments on the matter known.
Stepping dangerously close to smut territory with this one, but he loves how small you are compared to him. The way he engulfs you entirely when he hugs you or how your hand disappears under his as he holds it — it's endearing to him.
I cannot go without mentioning how good his hugs are. Like, seriously. He's so warm and gentle but still strong and it makes you feel safe. It's the best thing in Faerun.
Loves how you look like wearing his clothes. It ties into the size difference thing, since they just look huge on you. Also, much like Gale, he has a thing for your scent, so there's really no downsides.
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hwashotcheeto · 1 day
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𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (10)
Best Friend's Mother Masterlist
Chapter: Ten
Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader
Summary: Christmas has finally come. But with it, the end of Winter Break, and feelings that both you and Seonghwa are still too scared to confront.
WC: 6.3k
CW: Fluff, angst, suggestive but it cuts off
AN: I'm so sorry this took so long. I don't have much to say, other than this is more angsty than I planned, but I think it makes for a better story. I hope it's a good part one finale for you all, and you enjoy, as always. 💜
Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goayeos @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop @multistanbaby
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It was December 24th, and you were awake way earlier than you wanted to be, standing in a jewelry store, looking through the glass of the display case at the many expensive, gorgeous, necklaces. 
But tomorrow was Christmas, and you needed a gift for Seonghwa, so sacrifices had to be made. 
You’d already figured out a gift for Wooyoung ages ago, you had it wrapped and ready in your guest room at the house. 
Now you were here, looking for a gift for his mother. 
You often had moments where you still couldn’t believe the life you were currently living. 
“Do you need help?” You snapped your head up to find the person who spoke to you, and your eyes found a sweet older woman, smiling at you from behind her glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.” 
“No, it’s alright,” you said back, offering back a half smile as you tried to collect yourself. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift. 
“Oh, well, what exactly are you looking for?” The older woman came closer, looking over the necklaces in the case as you were. 
At that moment, you realized that you really didn’t know what to look for. 
You had a good sense of Seonghwa’s style by now, but in terms of jewelry, you were a little stumped. In the month you’d been there, the three of you hadn’t really gone out, so none of you really “dressed up.” 
But of the things you did see, you weren’t sure what he preferred. He usually wore chains, something elegant to go with his already sophisticated outfits. 
But at the same time, you didn’t want a generic, expensive diamond necklace on a silver chain. Most necklaces looked like that, just a pretty pendant on a cheap, boring chain. 
Of course, they had their own charm, and you had a few necklaces like that yourself. But you wanted to find him something special, something as unique as he was. 
You were wishing you’d asked Wooyoung what Seonghwa would wear, but even you knew about Wooyoung’s inability to shut the fuck up. So if you did ask, you ran the risk of spoiling the surprise. 
“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, putting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. 
“Well, maybe I can help you,” the older woman offered, giving you another sweet smile. You had to admit, in the back of your mind, you were doubtful. But you’d accept any help you could at that moment. 
You nodded, and the older woman nodded back. “So, who is it for?” 
You hesitated, even if this was the expected first question. Considering the previous day’s events, you were even more hesitant to even breathe a word of your infatuation with Seonghwa to anyone. 
So you spit out some half formed excuse that you hoped sounded believable. “For someone I’ve been seeing.” 
The older woman’s eyes lit up like stars as a big smile spread across her face. You couldn’t help but smile with her. 
“Isn’t that precious?” She looked at the display cases again before she looked back at you. “What are they like? What do they like to wear?” 
Like magic, there he was in your mind. Seonghwa, in his gorgeous dresses and outfits. Walking like a queen with the way he held himself. His gorgeous smile that lit up the world, and his bright doe eyes. 
He was everything. He was wonderful. 
“He’s very mature,” you began, not picking up on the fact that “he” was the pronoun that came out. “He dresses expensively. He’s a type that likes the finer things in life.” 
“You’re looking for something a little more expensive?” The woman teased with a little grin, but you nodded in agreement. You did have a budget, as your student loan money that you were using couldn’t all go to a Christmas present. 
But for Seonghwa, you’d do it. 
“Come with me.” The older woman began walking around to a different display case, and the necklaces here were far more ornate and expensive than the ones you were looking at. Your heart stopped when you saw the price tag on one of them.
One of these necklaces could easily pay for at least half a year of your tuition. That was intimidating, to say the very least. 
The older woman must’ve saw the color drain from your face, because she quickly leaned on the counter and spoke to you softly: “This is where I tell people to look for the piece they want, and then we usually find something more affordable that’s close to what they want.” 
Your entire body sagged with relief. 
So there you went, looking over the necklaces they had. These ones weren’t just jewels on a chain, they were much more detailed than that, more intricate. There was more color in them, more styles overall. 
As you were weighing your options, you were imagining Seonghwa in your mind, picturing how he’d look with each of them, what he’d wear with them, how it would look against his honey skin. 
A few times, you got a little too wrapped up in your fantasies and had to pull yourself back. 
You repeated the process until your eyes landed on the one. The one you could perfectly see Seonghwa wearing. 
It was a choker with a large red stone in the center, with many others around it. There were a few diamonds around it as well, but they were quite small. 
It could’ve been a crown. 
“This one?” The older woman asked, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You shook yourself and nodded, smiling. “It’s quite expensive, are you sure?” 
You looked at the price tag, and the necklace would definitely drain your bank account. 
But you wanted it. You wanted him to have it. 
“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I want that one.” 
The older woman hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded as well, and went to wrap up the choker. You watched as she took it and put it into a silk lined velvet box, laying it out carefully, as if she could feel the price of every gemstone. 
You followed her around the counter to where she was going to ring it up, trying your best to not be impatient. But the older woman couldn’t help but smile at your fidgeting and shifting around. 
Just thinking about Seonghwa wearing it, how pretty the red would look against his skin, the chains around his pretty neck-
“Please insert your card, dear,” the older woman called, still smiling brightly. 
You babbled out a “sorry” as you fumbled for your card to pay for the choker. The old woman was still smiling as you went through with the payment. 
And yes, the choker was incredibly expensive. No, it didn’t count as a student expense. 
But it was worth it for Seonghwa. 
The older woman pushed the bag across the counter to you. “There you go.” She flashed that sweet, warm smile at you again as you carefully lifted the bag off the counter. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” 
At that moment, you looked into her eyes. You looked for any deceit. Any lies. Any possible malice or potential push back. 
But there was nothing. Just light and joy. 
You smiled back and nodded as relief washed over you. “I think so too.” 
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You placed the bag underneath the Christmas tree, hiding it behind the present you got Wooyoung. Thankfully, the both of them were still asleep when you arrived back at the house. 
A stark contrast to the night before, the house was quiet, and empty. No people, no music, nothing. Just a house, full of decorations. 
But now, you were fortunate for everyone to be asleep so you could tuck your very expensive, very special present behind the others. 
But since the moment you left the store, you were having doubts. You just spent a lot of money on Seonghwa. You bought him something very special, something most people don’t gift to others unless they’ve known each other for quite some time. 
You hadn’t known Seonghwa for quite some time. In fact, most people would think you’re doing much more than you should so early on. Even you were thinking that. 
But you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest when you thought about Seonghwa. The goddamn ache, the feeling that could’ve dropped you to your knees if you weren’t careful. The ache you felt all over your body when you didn’t get the chance to even hold his hand, to hug him, to be with him. 
The crippling feeling when you thought about going back to campus and not seeing him for months. 
Maybe you were falling too soon and too hard. Maybe this wasn’t right. 
You moved to reach for the bag when you heard two doors open and close. As footsteps moved across the hardwood floor upstairs, you worked to get your jacket and shoes off as quickly and quietly as possible before the owners came downstairs. 
You closed the door to the coat closet as Yeosang and Jongho made their way down the stairs, wearing what looked like Wooyoung’s shirts and shorts, their hair messy and eyes half open. You gave them the best smile you could muster at that point, but tried to not over do it. 
“What are you doing up so early?” Jongho asked, his voice scratchy and low. Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall in the living room, above the TV, and it was just after seven. Would it be early if you were still on campus? No. 
But you weren’t on campus, so yes, it was early. 
But you realized you didn’t have an excuse as to why you were up so early. 
“Your guess is as good as mine,” you babbled, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could manage. To your relief, the two half awake men in front of you weren’t in the mood to interrogate you. 
“Us too,” Yeosang agreed, following Jongho into the kitchen. You did the same, getting glasses of water with them and sitting at the kitchen table. 
None of you said anything for a few moments. You three were enjoying the early morning silence, the peace, the few stray strands of sunlight peeking in through the windows and stretching across the floor. 
Eventually, Jongho broke the peaceful silence. “Do you think San and Wooyoung will be down before noon?” 
Yeosang pretended to think as he took another sip from his glass. He looked off, as if into the distance, like he was prophesying about the future. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sound made Yeosang smile. 
“No, I think they’ll be there until we go find them,” he concluded, finishing the rest of his water afterwards. You nodded in agreement, taking another sip from your glass. 
“I expected the same from you.” Jongho looked at you over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. You looked down as your face began to burn. You didn’t have an answer to that, so you kept quiet. But you knew your friends wouldn’t let you off easy. 
Yeosang continued the conversation as he set his glass down in front of himself. “Yeah, it is a little weird that you’re awake so early, fully dressed, standing by the front door.” 
Both men were looking at you now as you stared down at the table, your face burning like the sun, the heat pulsing in waves. 
It’s not that you were worried that they’d spoil the surprise. You were more afraid of their opinions and judgements of the gift you got. You could handle the jokes and even fire back at them, and you welcomed the banter about the relationship you’d found yourself in. 
But you were already beginning to have second thoughts about the expensive present sitting across the house, tucked away under the tree, hidden away from sight because you were embarrassed. 
It was everything you were afraid of. Falling too hard too fast, committing to something larger than yourself, something you very well might not be ready for. 
“Hey,” Jongho called, waving his hand close to your face. “You kinda spaced there, you okay?” 
You blinked a few times, like you were rebooting yourself, and smiled as best you could. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good.” 
“Are you sure?” Yeosang countered. Their slightly amused faces turned to ones of concern, their eyebrows down. They weren’t sure what exactly was in your head, but they knew it wasn’t nothing, like you were about to tell them it was. 
And you knew they would push. But you didn’t want to vent all of your worries and fears and poor life choices at seven in the morning, especially when they didn’t know the full extent of the month’s events. 
Thankfully, you had your out, as Wooyoung came down the stairs with San close behind. They both looked like they’d skipped the waking up part of waking up, with fluttering mostly closed eyes and their hair the best example of a “rat’s nest.” 
Yeosang and Jongho looked up at them as they came into the kitchen, sliding their feet across the floor, hardly picking them up. 
“Good morning, sunshine,” you said cheerfully, trying to steer the conversation to the two zombie looking men that strode in. The two men at the table, to your relief, joined you in teasing the others. 
“The year hasn’t changed yet, just for reference,” Jongho threw out. Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he continued past the table to the cabinet to get himself and San a drink. 
San followed him, stopping when he did, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung’s waist from behind and laying his head on the younger’s shoulder. 
With the heat off you, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You knew this wouldn’t be the last of the conversation, but that would be a problem for future you to handle. 
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Seonghwa didn’t wake up until an hour after San and Wooyoung had. That was to be expected, after all the party planning and hosting he’d done the day prior. Not to mention, the emotional distress was quite draining. 
Wooyoung helped him with breakfast, and you all ate with minimal conversation, of which you were grateful for. The less you spoke, the less chances you had to expose or incriminate yourself. 
The rest of the morning was mostly slow and quiet. You were all still recovering and resting from the previous day, and dreading the end of Winter Break as a whole. 
Classes started again in the second week of January, but you and Wooyoung had agreed to be back on campus by January 1st. 
If you weren’t counting Christmas Eve, the day you were thinking all of this, you had only one week left. Seven more days until you had to leave. 
It didn’t help that Seonghwa was being particularly clingy that day. He sat next to you at breakfast, he was holding your hand, he was giving you little kisses. 
He hugged you from behind as you were helping with the dishes, holding you tight while his body pressed into yours. 
He wordlessly demanded cuddles from you when everyone dispersed after breakfast. He pulled you onto the couch and held you tight, almost falling right back asleep when he did. 
You didn’t think, or really even wanted to, ask why Seonghwa was so attached to you that day. You told yourself it was because he was tired. Or maybe he realized you would be leaving in a week too.  
Whatever it was, you were conflicted. 
You couldn’t stop thinking as you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, your head on his chest. You wanted to relax into his warmth and safety and let the tension melt off your body. 
But you kept thinking of that goddamn choker. The choker you were so proud of finding, that you gladly spent so much money on, the choker that you knew would look amazing on him. 
It was stuck in your head because you didn’t know if you were actually going to give it to him or not. 
Maybe you’d just take it back to campus with you and save it for another time. Maybe you’d return it altogether. You’d just sit with Wooyoung as Seonghwa opened the Lego sets Wooyoung said you both could take credit for. 
Maybe that was the safer option. Maybe that was the less crazy option. 
But as you began to accept that conclusion and make peace with it, the ache was back. 
As you listened to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, feeling his hand run up and down your back, the ache returned with a burning passion. Your breathing grew labored, like the ache was genuinely squeezing your heart and forcing the air out of your lungs. 
Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined shoving the choker’s bag into your own and taking it back to campus with you. The ache spread to your arms and legs as you thought about never presenting the gift to him, and simply just watching him open the presents Wooyoung bought. 
Your whole body hurt. It felt like a pulsing, squeezing pain, and you couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. 
You’d fallen in too deep. You fell too hard, too fast. 
Everything you’d been afraid of had happened exactly as you thought it would. 
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By the time your friends left, the sky was already darkening again. As much as you all would’ve loved for them to stay, they had families to go home to as well. 
You wondered how long it would be before San and Wooyoung were consistently going to each other’s family events. Or even hosting their own. 
But it was hours since then, and you were sitting back on the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Seonghwa sat between the two of you, his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against him, with Wooyoung sitting the same way. 
But Wooyoung was stretched across most of the couch and his arms were dramatically thrown around Seonghwa, like he was a figure in a painting you’d find in an old museum. 
You three had agreed to get snacks and drinks and watch Christmas movies until midnight, when you could open your gifts for each other. 
But the movies kept getting interrupted by Wooyoung being impatient, general commentary, and before you all knew it, you were all talking again with the movies long forgotten.
In a way, you preferred this. The more time you spent talking, the less time you had to think about the impending time of your decision. But as the clock ticked down, as midnight drew closer, your efforts were in vain. 
All you could think of was that goddamn choker. The repeated question of “will you, won’t you” flashing across your eyes like some kind of horror montage. 
You started to feel sick. Your stomach was churning, your head felt light. You were pretty sure you were beginning to turn green. All over a fucking choker. 
Midnight drew ever closer, and the dread in your stomach intensified and grew with every second that ticked by. Your eyes kept jumping back and forth, from the clock on the wall to the TV and back again. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin when Wooyoung sat up and yelled, “It’s Christmas!” 
Your hands were slightly shaking as Wooyoung got up from the couch and pulled you and Seonghwa along, dragging you across the room to kneel down by the Christmas tree. 
The warm lights of the tree that once brought you comfort now nearly made you vomit. 
You swallowed it back as you settled next to the tree on the hardwood floor, pushing the bag with the choker further back into the corner. Your wrapped your arm around your back in an effort to do so as subtly as possible. 
Seonghwa also came to sit on the floor in front of the tree between you and Wooyoung, but only after he’d gotten a trash bag to put the discarded wrapping paper in. Wooyoung happily shoved a box towards Seonghwa, a huge smile stretched across his face. 
“We got this one for you!” He dropped the present in Seonghwa’s lap as he reached over to grab the other boxes that had Seonghwa’s name on the tag. “And these ones too.” 
Seonghwa pouted, but then smiled warmly at his son. Oh, how ethereal he looked under the light of the Christmas tree, delicately highlighting his warm skin and putting sparkles in his eyes. 
You shook your head and came back to the present as Seonghwa began to tear the wrapping paper off the box in his lap. His smile grew bigger the more he revealed the box, and finally laughed in excitement. 
“Oh, nae sarang,” Seonghwa sighed, putting the wrapping paper in the trash bag. “This is so sweet of you, thank you.” 
Wooyoung was absolutely beaming, his smile outshining the tree beside him. His eyes flicked over to you, and you couldn’t help but share his smile. Seonghwa looked at you too, and your heart fluttered at the genuine gratitude in them. 
“Thank you too, jagiya.” 
You just nodded, your heart cracking a little. 
But you happily watched Seonghwa tear open the rest of the boxes. His eyes lit up every time, laughing in pure joy at the brand new expensive Lego sets. You nodded every time he said thank you, but guilt pulled at your heart knowing you didn’t actually contribute in any way. 
But Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind. He was just as happy seeing Seonghwa open the presents, as if he was the one receiving them instead of giving them out. 
You were truly the luckiest person to have Wooyoung. 
After Seonghwa had finished unwrapping the Lego boxes, he stacked them up and put them aside, and then pulled Wooyoung into a tight hug. 
“Thank you, nae sarang,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 
“You’re welcome, Eomma,” Wooyoung whispered, squeezing Seonghwa tighter. 
Your heart cracked again. 
Wooyoung pulled away from Seonghwa and reached back under the tree for a bag. It looked fairly inconspicuous, just a regular white bag with white tissue paper sticking out the top. But in your experience with Wooyoung, quiet and boring was always suspicious. 
Seeing your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bomb, don’t look at it like that,” he whined. “Just open it.” 
“It’s a bag, it’s already open,” you teased, to which Wooyoung groaned and rolled his head back. Both you and Seonghwa let out a soft giggle. 
“Just open it, please!” 
With another giggle, you pulled the tissue paper aside and looked into the bag, seeing a bundle wrapped in more tissue paper. You carefully pulled it out and pulled the paper off to reveal the gift. 
“Wooyoung,” you breathed as you looked over the expensive outfit in your hands. The logo on the tag was what you saw first, your head shooting up to look at him in bewilderment. “What is this?” 
“Clothes, dummy,” he answered with his award winning smile again. “Now you don’t have to borrow my clothes for events.” 
You know his comment was a joke, but his words went straight to your heart. You hadn’t asked for this, Hell, you didn’t even think about buying it for yourself. 
But you finally had a nice outfit for events, or parties. 
Or maybe even future restaurant dates. 
“Thank you.” You carefully folded the clothes back up, as if they’d unravel in your hands, and laid them back in the bag. 
“You don’t have to thank me, it was a necessity.” 
You rolled your eyes, to which Wooyoung just smiled. You couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. 
“Is it my turn now?” Seonghwa asked as you put the bag aside. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your own gift behind the tree again. 
“Sure,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking. Wooyoung eagerly reached under the tree and grabbed a box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with his name written on it in Hangul. 
He wasted no time in shredding the paper, almost reminiscent of a cat, and revealed a large, expensive laptop. Wooyoung just stared at it for a few moments with his jaw hanging open, his eyes the size of dinner plates. 
“Eomma,” he whispered, then looked up at Seonghwa. “When I said I wanted a new one, I wasn’t serious,” he started to explain, but Seonghwa held up his hand to stop him. 
“I don’t care, I wanted to get it for you. And I think college would be a little difficult with a broken laptop.” 
You held back a giggle remembering the moment Wooyoung dramatically wailed about how he accidentally knocked his previous laptop off a table and onto the linoleum floor of the classroom. 
Wooyoung just stared at Seonghwa for a few moments, like he was about to tell his son it was all a joke. But when Seonghwa just smiled at him, in the warm mom way, Wooyoung smiled too and hugged the box. 
“Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome, nae sarang.” 
Wooyoung set the box aside carefully, slowly setting it down beside him, making sure it would be safe before he turned to you and Seonghwa. 
You looked up at Seonghwa, and he smiled at you warmly before he reached over and squeezed your hand. “Your present comes later.” 
It took every ounce of strength to not burst into tears right then and there. You just mustered up the best smile you could and nodded. There was no teasing look in Seonghwa’s eyes, no allusion to more. Just his warm smile and bright eyes. 
“Eomma, I didn’t need to know that,” Wooyoung groaned dramatically, speaking loudly as he flung himself back to lay on the floor. You rolled your eyes as Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked back at Wooyoung. 
“It’s not like that,” he began, but Wooyoung just whined again. 
“If you’re gonna be like that, then I won’t give you your present,” you added as you pulled out a large, black bag from under the tree, with black wrapping paper sticking out of it. 
Wooyoung shot up and looked at you, and then at the bag, then back again in confusion. His brows went down as he opened his mouth to question you, but you just slid the bag across the floor to him. 
“I’ve had them hidden for months,” you explained as wooyoung grabbed the bag.
“Them?”
“Yes, them, now go look!” 
Wooyoung looked at the bag again, this time with a look of concern instead of confusion, like something was about to jump out at him. He studied the still bag for a few more moments before he finally pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside. 
And he pulled out two small plushies: A black cat and a red fox. 
Wooyoung gasped as he pulled them out, then hugged them tightly. “You remembered!” He exclaimed as he looked at them again, turning them over and admiring all the little details. 
Months prior, Wooyoung wouldn’t stop talking about these plushies he wanted. He had a collection going, and he needed those two to complete it, but he never had a chance to get them. 
So one night, you did. You ordered them online and hid them in your dorm for months, waiting for the day you could’ve given it to Wooyoung. 
And here you were, on Christmas Day, finally seeing his eyes light up like stars as he looked at them both, hugging them like they were his children. 
The sight helped alleviate some of the tension in your chest. 
“Thank you,” he finally said to you as he looked up. You smiled, and this time, it was genuine. 
“You’re welcome.” 
Meanwhile, Seonghwa was smiling just as brightly. The mom smile you adored, the softness in his eyes as he looked at you both with unending fondness. 
It cracked your heart all over again. 
With all your presents exchanged, Seonghwa and Wooyoung collected their gifts and went to bring them to their rooms. 
You did the same, but hid the choker bag in the gift bag Wooyoung gave you, and ran to your room to hide it there. 
How ridiculous this all was. You bought the choker for Seonghwa, you brought it home, you’d imagined how beautiful he’d look with it. You’d walked out of that store knowing he’d gratefully accept the gift, and you were excited to see him wear it. 
But how could you give someone like him something like this? This was far too much money for someone you haven’t known for nearly enough time. 
But you bought it because of the goddamn pain in your chest. The suffocating, choking ache that grew ever stronger every day. It invaded every part of your body, it was in your blood and bones. Even if you wanted to smother it and shove it away, it would take forever. 
You knew what it was. You knew why it was there. 
But you didn’t have the courage to say it. Which is why the choker was getting shoved in the duffle bag and into the closet as you fought back tears. 
Maybe you’d give it to Seonghwa another day. Maybe as a birthday present, whenever that was. 
But not now. You couldn’t do it now. 
As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a gentle knock at the door before it opened a little. 
“May I come in?” It was Seonghwa, you knew it was him before he even spoke. 
You nodded, as if he could see that, as you said “yes” and sat down on the bed. Seonghwa came into the room and carefully shut the door behind him before he came to sit down next to you. 
In his hand was a square, navy, velvet box, about the side of a small plate. He held it out to you with a warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts. You took the box from him carefully, like it would disappear at any second, and were surprised when it had a little weight to it. 
“It’s okay,” he said softly when you hesitated, putting one of his hands over yours. You looked up and met his big, brown eyes again. “It’s all yours, jagiya.” 
You just nodded, because you couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as your eyes fell back down to the box in your hands. 
You shoved away the guilt that stirred in your gut as you slowly opened the velvet case, and tears welled in your eyes all over again. 
It’s like Seonghwa knew you were buying him a choker earlier, and that you wanted something with more detail and intricacies. 
A necklace, but there were gemstones all up the chain with a larger one hanging from the bottom. The gemstones on the chain were small and simple. not trying to be in the way, but just to elevate the chain. 
The larger, square cut gemstone that hung from the ornate chain was meant to be in the way. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, no, it was just perfect. 
Everything was perfect. You were blinking back tears, it was so perfect. 
“Seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you whispered, your throat closing up. You ran your fingers over the gemstones, almost like you needed to touch it to see if it was real. 
Seonghwa was beaming, lighting up the whole room with his smile as he watched you admire the necklace. “You said you wanted something to show off.” 
“And I will.” You carefully lifted the necklace out of the box, and as you were going to put it on, Seonghwa stopped you and reached up to take it. 
“May I?” Two simple words. Words that were very small and insignificant to anyone else. 
But this moment felt like much more than just putting on a necklace. 
It almost felt sacred. Intimate. Like a ceremony. 
You nodded and gave the necklace to Seonghwa. He moved closer and wrapped it around your neck, reaching over your shoulder to clasp it behind your neck. You felt your face burn at how close he was, with his arms around you, his body enveloping yours. 
But he pulled back just a few seconds later to admire how the beautiful piece sat against your skin. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up like stars as his smile spread across his whole face again. “I knew it was perfect,” he said softly as he ran his fingers down the chain. 
If your heart could beat any harder, the large stone on the necklace would’ve started shaking. It was a bizarre feeling, to be so guilty and torn up, but so elated, and desire the man before you. 
And when Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, it’s as if he could see it all. Every tear, every smile, eerie second guess you’d ever had. Like he could see the entire month of December replaying in your eyes in those few seconds. 
There were no other words spoken as Seonghwa leaned close and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, feather light. Loving. 
When Seonghwa laid you down on your back, your body turned to putty in his hands. Your limbs were growing weak as you wrapped them around his body. You wanted him as close as close could be, wanted to remember his taste, every soft moan as he breathed his life into every kiss, the touch of his hands on every part of your body. 
You wanted it all. And Seonghwa was more than happy to provide. 
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The first day of the new year had come and gone. The thirty one days of December went by faster than they had in previous years. 
But as you and Wooyoung loaded your bags back up into his car, you were anything but joyful. 
“We’ll visit again during Spring Break,” he reassured you as he closed the trunk. “And it’s not like you don’t have his number, you can still talk to him.” 
Wooyoung was trying his best to reassure you, but his face fell when he realized nothing was working. Everything he was telling you, you already knew it. Obviously you’d see Seonghwa again, and you’d probably be texting him at least once every few days, if not every day. 
The world was not ending. This blissful period did, but it wasn’t the end of everything. You’d be back, you’d see Seonghwa again. 
But the months between January 1st and Spring Break would be difficult after the month you’d just lived through. 
It felt juvenile. You were a grown adult in college, working towards a degree to hopefully secure a good career and have a comfortable life. You had classes to worry about, not your boyfriend who’s double your age. 
But he wouldn’t ever leave your head. You knew in your head that when you went back to class, he’d probably be there in the back of your head. 
An effort in mental gymnastics is what these next few months would hold. 
Wooyoung brought you back up to the house for your final goodbyes. Seonghwa was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a cream knitted sweater with black sweatpants. Normally, he was dressed up in some way, even if it was a pajama set. Today, he hadn’t bothered with fashion. 
Wooyoung hugged him first, squeezed him so tight, he lifted Seonghwa off the floor. For the first time that morning, you smiled as they both laughed. The noise of surprise and protest Seonghwa let out just made Wooyoung hoist him up more, until all three of you were laughing. 
“How could you put your poor eomma through such things?” Seonghwa asked in a perfectly dramatic voice as he made a show of fixing his hair and sweater. 
“As if you’re any better,” Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa just smiled and kissed his head, to which Wooyoung reciprocated with a cheek kiss. 
“Be safe, nae sarang.” 
“I will, Eomma.” 
They exchanged an “I love you” before Wooyoung walked away, and gave you a nod before he went to sit in the car to wait. 
It was like a movie scene. The sun was setting, the snow was falling. The sunset colors illuminated your face as Seonghwa gave you a half hearted smile. 
You wordlessly hugged him tightly, and he instantly returned the hug. You two stayed there in that hug, silently clinging onto each other like it would be the last time. 
It wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it. 
But you both found something that December. You found someone. And it was so special, you couldn’t bear to lose it. 
As you pulled back to look up at him, the little voice was in your head again. Telling you that you were taking this too seriously, that you shouldn’t have been so upset, that this wasn’t a big deal. 
The voice disappeared as Seonghwa pulled you into another loving kiss. The idea that this was a movie scene popped back into your head as he held your cheek and kept you close. 
You could've sworn you heard your heart break when you both pulled away. 
“Be safe,” Seonghwa softly said onto your lips. You nodded as you painstakingly pulled out of his arms. 
“I will. You too.” 
Seonghwa gave you another small smile. His eyes flicked down to the necklace that you still wore. You’d worn it every day since the night he gave it to you, and kept it in it’s case every night. 
You smiled back before you forced yourself to walk back to Wooyoung’s car. Seonghwa watched from the doorway until Wooyoung’s car disappeared, and he could no longer hear it. 
Wooyoung reached over the center console and held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything, no words needed to be said. 
But as you were swallowing back the tightness in your throat and blinking back tears, the comfort felt good. The firm squeeze was what you needed, as you both were headed back to campus, unsure of where life was going to bring you both next.
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Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜
This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.
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tizeline · 1 day
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Asking some writers/artists I follow:
Is there anything in your fic/comic that you as the author know about, but won't end up in the actual story?
So I have a rather uh disorganized way of telling the story of the TSAU, I jump back and forth in the timeline quite a bit depending on what part of the story I wanna tell. Overall I improvise quite a bit, and because of that I can't be 100% sure what will be depicted in the story and what wont. But I might as well share some little tidbits of lore that are probably not gonna be mentioned in the main story (though they still might who knows lol)
So uh. April and Kendra are exes. Kinda. They were pretty close friends when they were younger and decided to become a couple when they were like 9 or something. This lasted for a grand total of.... 2 days, maybe? Then they had a huge fight about something silly like, I dunno, Kendra hacked April's tamagotchi as a prank and she got mad so they broke up and they've had major beef ever since.
Draxum made Mikey wear some type of artifact or gear that supressed his mystic powers as a kid for his own safety. Mikey started showing an incredible talent for the mystic arts at a very young age. Draxum was excited about this for all of 5 seconds before realizing that Mikey is a VERY small child with NO impulse control and he's definetily gonna turn himself and the rest of the family into glitter unless Draxum finds a way prevent that from happening until Mikey has the chance to develop an understanding of consequences. (He's learned to control his powers well enough to not need them by the time of the main-story, so he no longer wears the supressors)
Donnie's whole villain-act he puts on is partially a coping mechanism. He grew up never knowing anyone like himself (unless you count Splinter, I suppose) so the only times he saw himself represented in anything was characters in comics and shows and such. There were plenty of anthropomorphic reptile characters in the media he consumed, and Donnie clunged to anyone or anything that he could at least somewhat relate to. Problem is, a lot of these anthro reptiles were like.... y'know... villains. It's pretty common for super heroes and stuff to fight evil mutant reptile creatures, and even stories with only anthro characters reptiles tend to be charactarized as more villainous. Granted, turtles specifically usually don't get this treatment, but it still had quite an effect on Donnie as a little kid that most characters similar to him would be viewed as evil, which caused him to internalize that mindset. So turtle tot Donnie basically went like "Yes! This is what I am! A villain in someone else's story! It all makes sense now! This is a healthy mindset to have!" and just kinda embraced the role that human society had given to him because he didn't really know how else to deal. (Things changed after meeting April and he found out that there might actually be humans out there who might treat him like a person and not just a freak of nature! He still plays into the villain-persona, partially for fun and partially as a coping thing, but he doesn't have nearly as a negative view of himself now as he did as a tot)
And last, but certainly not least................ Draxum owns a Lou Jitsu body pillow (PURELY for research-purposes, NO other reason!)
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thefiery-phoenix · 2 days
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HIS LITTLE HOUSEWIFE (YANDERE TAESOO MA X READER)
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Not me having delusional fantasies and living in my delulu era of being a housewife for a possessive guy...my sanity is messed up and I think I need help lol. But I'm a huge sucker for wearing those pink aprons and having mittens on my hands while my imaginary non existent husband nuzzles my neck...I really need help at this point...
By no means did Taesoo ever think there would be a time when he would end up falling in love with someone so much to the point that he would literally be willing to kidnap them to ensure they become his. Had anyone ever told him that fine day would come he would have just laughed in their face and would have ended up punching the lights out of them while mumbling something about how he doesn't see the need for love. The years pass by and he'd rather take this to the grave than ever admit it for crying out loud but he felt like he needed a companion in life. A strange feeling of emptiness would settle inside his heart whenever he'd stroll through the streets of Ansan and see people happy with their families, of course, he had his own brat of a student Hudson to consider a son, but what he needed was a partner. Someone to protect and someone to love and that's when he met you
He didn't really believe in the concept of love at first sight but there was something about you that just exuded charm, grace and innocence. You were much shorter than him and he couldn't help but he slightly amused how short you were compared to him, he could literally lift you by your arms like you were a child as his imposing large muscular frame towered over yours. The way you spoke, the way you smiled that beautiful smile of yours, he could feel his heart growing warm and his cheeks getting slightly flushed. His mind would start working in an overdrive and it doesn't really take that long for him to fall in love with you. You're a precious doll in his eyes, you remind him of an innocent little thing that needed his protection. His eyes wandered to your lips, wondering how soft those lips of yours were if he'd kissed them, what sort of cute noises you would be making solely for HIM and him alone while he kisses you and holds you in his strong arms and shields you from the outside world because you're way too precious for that
It won't matter how you've met him, the only ending you'll be having is being with him. He'll obviously ask Hudson to find out more about you to which he'd agree although he cannot help but detect slight amusement in his student's voice when he gets to know about his infatuation and obsession for you but all in all, he honestly doesn't really blame him. What's not there to love about you, he can't wait to have you all for himself, hidden away from the prying eyes of the other lecherous filthy men who dare to eye what's his with no shame whatsoever far away on his mountain in his cabin where it would be just the two of you. He's already imagining how blissful married life with you would be, how adorable you'd look going around the house and taking care of him and the house with your gentle loving personality that he fell in love with. He doesn't think his feelings for you are spiraling out of control, he just sees it as a way of keeping you safe from the dangers of the world. He'd know PLENTY about it because of all the nonsense that keeps happening around Ansan everyday and the things he's been through
It's not an easy change and transition for you when you find out that he's literally kidnapped you and laced your food with sleeping pills under the pretext of having dinner with him one night. Of course, part of him definitely feels bad that he had to slip sleeping pills in your food but his obsessive love for you and possessive tendencies overlap his sense of rationality and whatever logic he had in his mind was gone out of the window as his mind is filled with thoughts of how all this is for your own good and it's to keep you safe. He knows it'll take a while for you to adjust to your new life with him but he doesn't mind, take all the time you need. He's more than willing to be patient for you and since he treats you with gentlemanly chivalry and would rather bust an artery than hurt you physically or emotionally, it won't be long till you develop the Stockholm syndrome for him
By now you've grown accustomed and used to living with him and the two of you had a small private wedding where only trusted friends of his arrived for the occasion. Of course, he had to resist the urge to literally throttle Jaegyon Na by his neck when he saw him trying to use cheesy pick up lines on you with that stupid smirk of his. Even he got used to seeing you waddle around the cabin in that cute little pink apron hugging your body busying yourself with chores like cooking or other household activities. He wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his face into your neck and plants a few gentle loving kisses on your cheeks and lips telling you how much he loves you and holds you tightly in his possessive grasp, like he's worried you'd end up running off at any given second. It was so alluring and mesmerizing to watch you take care of the house, you were the reason he felt like his heart now had warmth. You were the reason his house was now a home with your elegant bright presence
You started getting a bit restless recently. You felt slightly guilty as you watched him come back with a somewhat tired expression at times and you felt like easing his burden and stress. A few days later, the two of you were seated at the table and having the dinner that you made. "My love...your culinary skills are amazing as always'' spoke Taesoo in a gentle tone with a soft smile on his face as he ate his food from his plate. He loved having whatever you made for him since it was made with your love and your delicate hands, what sort of husband would he be for you if he wouldn't eat his wife's cooking? You smiled but only briefly as your mind was occupied on asking him something that you were slightly apprehensive about and you had that distant and pensive look on your face, looking lost in thought. He instantly knew there was something on your mind, he could always read you like an open book and could decipher your every action and thought
"My dear, there is something on your mind...isn't there?" asked Taesoo as he surveyed your features with calculating eyes, trying to detect whether or not you'd tell him about your thoughts. His statement might have looked like it was a question but it was a formality with the hidden underlying implication for you to tell him about what was bothering you. You let out a sigh and looked at him and fiddled your thumbs nervously. "Taesoo...um...is it okay if I could get a job? Or could I resume my old job?' you asked him with a soft voice and looked at him with a hopeful expression, your heart racing in trepidation for his response, however all you were met with was a pin drop silence which filled you with a slight sense of dread. Taesoo immediately stopped eating and his smile vanished as his expression morphed into a stoic one as he looked at you with a calculated gaze. He always encouraged you to follow your hobbies and your passion but you getting a job was a slightly unexpected turn of events for him, a question he wasn't anticipating but was dreading this conversation with you early on beforehand as he rehearsed his answers for this exact moment
Looking at your soft and innocent and hopeful expression made his heart warm with affection for you but he had to be firm with you about this, as your husband, as your protector. You were his wife, he didn't want you out of your comfort zone and didn't like to entertain the thought of you being away from him for even a single second. He hated to be the one to crush that hope in your eyes but it was necessary, to keep you safe. He took your soft hand in his large rough calloused ones and traced gentle circles on the back of your hand to make it easier for you to handle his rejection of the idea you'd just proposed since the thought of other men being around you and looking at HIS wife with their lecherous gazes made him livid and the mere thought alone made him want to punch a hole into a wall
"My dear, you need not worry about getting a job and stressing yourself out about it. Your only concern is to look after the home and let me provide for you. I make enough for the both of us as it is, I don't see any reason for you to be burdened by a job'' he answered with a gentle yet firm look on his face. You pouted slightly at his response and you looked somewhat crestfallen, which he felt bad about. Your pout was adorable yet it stung his heart at the same time. "I know but...I feel somewhat useless just being at home and barely doing anything all day long, I'm not even doing anything useful and I feel bad seeing you work hard and coming back home all tired and sometimes beat up...I thought I could help out as well so you wouldn't need to worry about me being a burden for you'' you mumbled and averted your gaze from his eyes which narrowed as soon as the words left your mouth
Your words tugged at his heartstrings, yet his mind went back to the traditional role of wanting to be your protector and provider as your husband. Your words and thoughts moved him and touched him honestly, you were already precious enough and the last thing he needed was for you to bear burden on those shoulders of yours. He was slightly hurt you saw yourself a burden, he loved coming back home to you and wrapping you in his arms and feeling your soft touches and just being with you. He wished you could see how much his heart soared with affection and ecstasy whenever he'd come back home to you, making him feel like a true king indeed. However his features softened after a few moments when he saw you averting your eyes from his as he pulled you closer to him and made you sit on his lap and he cupped your cheek lovingly and caressed it and made you look at his eyes
"Hush my love, don't speak such nonsense again. You are by no means a burden for me, you are the reason my house feels like a home. Without you, this place would be an empty shell, like it used to before I met you. You mean everything to me, you are my darling wife...let me take care of you just like how you take care of me, you give me so much comfort and peace by being with me...do not fret about such things'' he answered as he continued to stroke your cheek affectionately with a tender loving look in his eyes reserved only for you, his dear wife who reigned over his heart. "I know...but I still feel like a useless housewife though, I feel like I'm barely doing anything'' you whispered with an insecure look in your eyes. Your insecure look cut through his heart like a knife, it pained him to see you be insecure of yourself and doubt yourself so much like this as he chuckled softly and brushed a few strands of hair from your face
"You do not need to worry about such things, you help me out so much with your love. I feel grateful to come back home to you everyday, where I can feel your soft gentle touches and your love for me. That's more than enough...I do not trust the world, I cannot let anything happen to you my love...society these days is dangerous and I will not risk your safety...I want you to be happy and relax, that's all. You're more than enough for me and by no means are you a useless housewife. You look so adorable with your little apron and mittens and the way you bustle around the kitchen cooking in those adorable dresses of yours...you keep the home running, my lovely little housewife...don't ever let me hear you call yourself useless again'' he replied with a soft yet firm tone and you nodded slowly which made him pleased
In the end, you were forced to give up the opinion of you having a job since there was no way he was going to stand for it but it was all for your safety after all. You were his lovely housewife, who provided him with so much love and comfort he could ever hope for and now that he had for you himself, he'd be damned to let you get away from him. Don't worry your pretty little head about anything and just let him provide for you, you're his darling little housewife after all...
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🍬Professor Dumbledore🍬
Believe it or not, this one took a long time to make (whaaaaat, it's only been like twenty days since Madam Pomfrey came online! That's nothing... > note the sarcasm here). I know, it took a while to figure out how I wanted Dumbledore to look. I had a good idea of the 'vibe' I wanted him to portray. It was the costume I struggled with. Drawing long robes and making them look somewhat personal/fashionable isn't the easiest thing to do. He is a very respected man and I wanted him to look responsible. However, he's also described as somewhat mad... so he needed to have something 'cooky' as well. You see my dilemma. I ended up with something of a formula: he wears long robes, like Gandalf, but the robes are very sophisticated. There are patterns, colours, embroidery and jewels. The robes are tied with fancy rope or a belt. Not to mention he wears a pointy hat because he's a stereotypical old wizard :)
Dumbledore has always been a fascinating character to me. Very duplicitous. He tells the truth but withholds it too. He lies, but we’re unsure if it’s for the benefit of someone else or himself. He protects Harry but puts him in danger as well. I’ve never really agreed with the idea of him being a father figure. He’s not parental. Dumbledore is a scholar, first and foremost. He craves knowledge and would sooner watch events unfold if it means gaining wisdom from it.
That’s what makes Dumbledore so complicated, yet fascinating.
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Now, a few final words. Something I DO NOT understand about the Fantastic Beasts films.. WHO decided it was a good idea to put Dumbledore in these gentlemanly muggle clothes when he was teaching at Hogwarts, when we fully know that he was born and raised a WIZARD, teaches at a MAGIC school with ✨MAGICAL ✨MAGIC AND MAGIC. ✨🔮⚡️ It does not explain how he evolved to 'long bearded' 'half-moon glasses ' 'purple robes' Headmaster Dumbledore at a later age🧐 I love most of the costumes from Fantastic Beasts, but this I simply cannot condone 🙄
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wand3rlustm3 · 2 days
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TAEHYUN - MAGIC TRICK
Warnings: smut, fingering, sub fem!reader, childhood friends to lovers, slight size kink
Taehyun was already mesmerizing enough, simply because of the way he carried himself. Even without mentioning his perfectly crafted face, his elegant features, or the way his hair sprawled across his face each time it moved when it wasn't gelled out of the way. The way his eyes sparkled as they looked into yours even though you were both just friends, the way they looked like they were only meant to look into yours.
You and Taehyun had met each other as kids when your mom had forgotten to pick you up at school, and as tears rolled down your face, he was the only one to wipe them away despite being just as young as you. He always seemed to just know the right things to say, and growing up whenever you felt any emotion, he stuck by you and chose to make you feel better regardless of how you felt. As he grew older, his features matured, and you couldn't help but accept that what the things you felt towards him weren't as simple as platonic emotions. Was it something more? No, it couldn't be, right?
As you walked underneath the multicolored sky, with grey clouds shrouding the setting sun. You figured it would rain, and your house was farther than Taehyun's from the café you worked at. So here you found yourself once more, at the doorstep of his house. However, it started raining long before you could reach there and you ended up soaking wet as you rang the doorbell. Even though the both of you grew older, you couldn't help but want him beside you. As the lightning strikes behind you, Taehyun opens the door.
"Hey y/n, please come in! I was going to call you over, are you okay? Why are you standing outside in this storm?" said Taehyun with concern. But in your head, all you could think is how he looked at you with his sparkly eyes again. No! Don't look at me with those eyes...
"Hey...I just wanted to stop by, but it started storming before I could get here. I'm sorry for showing up randomly." You frowned and spoke with a slight pout on your face.
"Well, you gonna come in or not?" Taehyun smiled at you, wrapping his beautiful fingers around your wrist and his other around your waist. You could feel the contrast of his warm touch through your now cold and wet clothes. Of course, he was wearing one of those tight black compression tees with no sleeves. You could see each and every single vein of his. You could see his muscles bulging each time he swayed his arm while leading you in. You wondered what else he could do with those hands of his....
Ever since the day he saw you crying at school, he never wanted you to shed another tear. He never wanted a sad expression to cover your delicate eyes that blinked a little too much when they were confused or tearing up, he never wanted your lips to shake when those very tears fell, or even the corners to droop a little. After Taehyun wrapped you in a towel and led you to his room to give you some of his spare clothes to wear, which were already oversized on him, so they fit you even looser. Taehyun couldn't explain how that made him feel. He wanted to take care of you, but a part of him wanted to ruin you. He wanted to ruin you so that no one else could have you. Just him, you'd be just his forever, but he's too scared to mess up what he has already.
"Y/n, why don't you come here? You wanna drink a little bit to warm up from how chilly it's gotten outside? Plus, we can loosen up a little and just relax. You can even sleep over since the storm probably won't subside till tomorrow morning. I have magic tricks to show you!" said Taehyun enthusiastically. "Sure Tyun, I'm up for it if you are." You say as you show him the sweetest smile. He poured both you and him a shot each, and you decided to quickly go sit on the couch he was on.
As you downed the shot and plopped down onto the couch next to him. You could see a bunch of different things laid out on his coffee table, ranging from a stack of cards to small items like a coin. "What's all this for Tyun? Learning more magic tricks?" You questioned. Inside your head, you questioned if he could make your complicated feelings for him disappear instead of any of the objects. "Yeah y/n! There's some really cool ones I have to show you." said Taehyun. When he told you that he had new tricks to show you, you didn't think it would involve so many lingering touches. You were burning up, and unfortunately, Taehyun caught onto it as usual.
You usually did tend to get hot after a shot, which was originally the reason why the both of you took a shot together. But, now you felt your blood rushing to your core because Taehyun and you were both tipsy, and you knew how clingy he got after drinking a little bit. This is exactly how you got to the position of him hovering above you on the couch as you laid down, as he pulled out yet another coin from behind your ear as you looked for where it disappeared to. "Tyun, can you show me how to do a trick?" You knew that curiosity killed the cat, so why did you ask the question you just did?
Taehyun smirked. Why is he smirking? You were going to explode, and you swore this man would be the death of you. "You know a magician never reveals his tricks....but this time I'll show you exactly how to do it." said Taehyun as he moved his face just centimeters away from yours, a hint of mischief in his voice—he continued on to say, "but you have to sit back and really relax, ok y/n? You can tell me to stop any time you want. We don't even have to do this if you don't want to."
His eyes sparkled just as much they did each time he looked at you, and you could see he meant every word he was saying. "Tyun, you know I trust you with my life, right?" Your eyes reflected his as you looked into them with just as much admiration as he did. You wanted to tell him you love him horribly in this moment, but something held you back. What if he didn't want you in that way? What if—
Suddenly, you felt his warm hand on your cheek as he pulled you into a searing, passionate, and long kiss. You felt every emotion of his, every second that he longed for you, you felt every ounce of love that he held back all these years. Everything was poured into that one kiss. You tasted the shot on his lips, but you didn't want to pull away. Your feelings for him washed over you in the most dramatic waves, and you kept kissing him until you felt each atom of oxygen leave your lungs. "Tyun, I love you. Please..."
You were so needy that you could only squeeze your thighs together and whimper. "I love you more, darling. You wanna know what my magic trick is, baby? I can make my fingers disappear." said Taehyun with that smirk of his plastered onto his perfect face once again. "W- what do you mean Tyun? Please don't tease me." You blushed and hid your face to the side of the sofa, but Taehyun just put his hand on your jaw and made you look at him.
"Baby, to learn the trick, you're going to have to watch me, right?" said Taehyun. You could have came just from him being so suggestive with you. You couldn't take him being on top of you like this any longer if he didn't do anything. He made quick work of your top and bottoms and slipped your panties off of your legs slowly. "You're so beautiful for me, all for me....only for me y/n." Taehyun breathed out in a whisper.
A moan escapes your lips as soon as you see his lips latch on to your clit, he licks a stripe up your cunt and proceeds to keep eye contact just so he can make sure you're watching how dirty he's being. "T- Tyun! Mmmh—" you whimpered pathetically, and Taehyun moaned out simply because of how beautiful you sounded as you dripped onto his faux leather couch. "Baby, I'm going to show you the main part of the trick, keep watching closely okay? You're doing amazing. You'll be great at this trick darling."
He took his ring and middle finger and played around with your slick until they coated his long and slender fingers, and he slowly slipped into you inch by inch. "Tyuuun! I can't—'s too much!" You moaned out and and teared up, it's not that it hurt, but it's that it felt too good that you felt like you'd lose your mind.
"Baby, you can take it. Take your time, I'm right here." said Taehyun as he brought his face back up to you, placed the hand gripping your hips on to your cheek, and left another long kiss with his plush and swollen lips onto yours. You tasted yourself on him, and you felt even more intoxicated and dizzy than you did after getting tipsy from that shot. "a- ahhh please Tyun...please move. Do something, please!" You begged him. After all, he couldn't ever reject a request from his princess. "At your command, darling" Taehyun said in a raspy manner.
Taehyun managed to brush against your most sensitive spot each time he moved his fingers, and it felt so good that it didn't even take him many strokes until you were screaming his name. "Tyun!! Please, I- I mmmh— cumming!!!" You mewled as tears rolled down your pretty face. Taehyun looked up at you like you were his world as you came down from your high, because you were his world.
"Told you I'd make my fingers disappear baby, think you can show me if you can make something else disappear next?" Taehyun whispered into your ear, as he proceeded to leave marks onto your neck.
The only thing he couldn't make disappear even if he could.
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hauntedwitch04 · 1 day
Text
I'm so excited
Remus Lupin x reader
Words: about 4.0k words
Warnings: smut, possessive!Remus, swearing, not proofreaded (sorry it's really late, and I'm starting to imagine things :) )
Author’s note: Hi loves! I'm so so so so so sorry, but life it's really kinking me in the ass and seems like uni likes to do the same, so I hope to write some more during this break. Let me know if you liked this one, your witch Becky
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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023
DAY 11: Breeding (tbt maybe isn't that much breeding, but I let myself get carried away by Remus Fucking Lupin)
Title of the one shot (and song in it): I'm so excited by The pointer sisters
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Remus could swear that he had never hated you as much as he did at that moment.
You and young Lupin had never been big fans of each other, as you both competed to be your year's brightest witch and wizard, but for some time the hungry little wolf in him had begun to see more than just a rival of wits in you: prey.
Each time he could not help but dwell on your hair, your smile (unfortunately never directed at him), your wonderful and magnetic eyes, and then wander over aspects that made his thoughts less pure. At night he dreamed of being able to touch your breasts, his most secret and darkest desire, being able to kiss, taste and bite them, almost putting his signature on you, so that everyone, even that idiot Ravenclaw of your year knew that no one but him could touch you; or he dreamed of leaving a trail of kisses from your belly down to your belly, to your thighs, which he imagined were so soft and sweet, until a scream from Sirius woke him up in the morning, telling him he was late, again. Sometimes in the dullest classes he marveled at imagining what it would be like to come inside you, to possess you in such a primitive, animal way; to see his cum dripping from your pussy as his fingers brought it back inside you, into your womb, where it belonged according to him.
Part of Remus knew that he had no right to impose himself on you in that possessive way, but somehow the wolf inside him disagreed, having decided that you were by far the most captivating and attractive prey he had ever seen.
Despite everything, however, young Lupin had always managed to make sure that he did not give in to his instincts, well at least until this evening.
The Hufflepuffs had decided to throw another party, to take the pressure off the young students in this exam-filled period, and of course his friends had decided that Remus absolutely had to attend to tell them "to relax a bit," but Sirius, as they were getting ready to arrive at the place where the party was being held, had looked at Remus and raising his eyebrows in an endearing way, with the look of someone who knows more than he should, had said that he knew for a fact that you would be at the party. Remus had never wanted to punch him as much as he did at that exact moment, but the thought that had grafted itself into him of you, dancing in the middle of a dance floor, not in the usual clothes he saw you in class in, but freer and more yourself, had been enough to make him close his mouth in fear that an involuntary moan would escape his lips.
But his imagination had not even come close to reality.
He had been sitting in an armchair for two hours now, stiff and panting, while next to him two are making out as if he were not next to them, but Remus cares nothing about what is happening next to him, the only thing he can focus on is you.
Right now you've climbed on top of one of the tables in the center of the room with your friend, and you're dancing one attached to the other, moving your pelvis in time to the music. You are wearing a simple black T-shirt with a V-neckline, ending just above your belly button and highlighting your breasts, which made young Lupin say a long string of swear words when he first saw you when he entered the room, hoping that like a spell they might change what you are wearing into cute, soft pajamas with Christmas puppets, or make the painful erection he was feeling go away. A simple skirt, on the other hand, moved in time with your hips, showing off your legs, neither too much nor too little. It was shocking to Remus how on an occasion like this you had managed to maintain the same elegance and class you show in class when you get into an argument with him about who is right, in fact he almost seemed to see the same stubbornness and confidence in your eyes at this moment as you downed another sip of your drink, which you had managed not to spill despite everything despite continuing to move.
"If you take a picture of her, you'll be able to look at it again tonight you know, when you can't help but-" Sirius whispers in his ear, waking Remus from the trance-like state he had fallen into.
"We get it Padfoot, you don't need to go on." James stops him, as he gets a glimpse of the young wolf from behind their friend's back.
Remus rolls his eyes, only to look in his hands at the drink that he has now finished, and without saying anything to his friends he turns and goes to the table where the bottles of alcohol are.
He pauses for a moment to look at which of the proposed spirits is the strongest, to make sure that he also forgets his name, as well as the sinful thoughts your body brings him.
However, everything changes in a matter of seconds.
The young wolf has finally identified what he wants to drink when a body pulls up, still moving in time to the music. Remus turns to glare evilly at anyone who has bumped into him at such an unhappy and difficult time in his life, when he sees the culmination of all his problems: you.
He can't help but look at you enraptured even more than before, now with the possibility of being able to notice up close all the details that had eluded him a few minutes ago; besides given the difference in height, now your V-neckline offers him a view of your breasts unseen before, so much so that he has to restrain himself from running into the nearest bathroom and throwing cold water on his face, and more.
Your hair reflects the moonlight, which comes from a nearby window, and at that moment Remus realizes a truth that had escaped him just before: in three days it would be a full moon.
Not understanding how something so important could have slipped his mind, he realizes that all last week he had been too busy cursing your name or moaning it at night to realize that the moon was changing night after night.
You are the only thing he can now understand and think about, and this terrifies him, but at the same time makes him feel good.
Coming to her senses, she realizes that caught up in the rhythm of the music and the alcohol you practically danced on him. Lupin feeling a presence in his pants becoming more and more obvious and the wolf inside him getting louder and louder, decides that he cannot stay a second longer in this room, so he hurries out of the Hufflepuff common room, to find himself thus in the corridors. He begins to run, not going too far, but far enough to still hear the background music, thinking he is alone, when he hears footsteps.
Remus turns and sees you, leaning forward trying to regain the breath you had lost in running after him. Again the sight of your cleavage is enough to make him say a sequence of swear words under his breath as you pull yourself up and look at him.
"What are you doing here?" Remus asks, in an almost mean tone, yet unable to hide a note of longing as he tries to send you away by being rude to you.
"Your friends looked pretty bad to me, and they asked me to see if you were okay when you ran away from the party." You reply in the same acid tone he had used, before bursting out laughing. "What an idiot I am. I thought that at least this time if I showed you kindness, you would see that I'm not a bitch like you like to paint me."
"Why do you care so much that I think so highly of you?" He asks, intrigued, as he mentally slaps himself for the question he just asked.
"Because you are a person that everyone esteems and appreciates, and it is an honor to be appreciated by you in this damn school, and I never understood what I did to deserve the treatment I get from you. Do you really hate me for a couple of assignments and lessons? Are you really that arrogant?" You ask as you take a step toward him, but the sight of you so angry and panting with your hair messed up is enough to make him go wild, imagining you in the same condition, but this time because of him in a different way: under him and panting from his kisses as he makes you cry out in pleasure with his member. Remus takes a step back to catch his breath as he tries with all his might not to jump on you, and to banish his thoughts with images of pink-bearded Dumbledore dancing to a Christmas song. You, however, misinterpret that step backward, and respond with another step forward toward him.
"What more do I have to do than that Lupin? I'm laying myself bare before you, what more do I have to do Remus? Tell me."
Upon hearing his name fall from your fleshy lips, a short-circuit occurs in Remus's brain, who, no longer able to have control over his body, pounces on you like a predator who manages to finally get his fangs on his prey.
You initially don't know how to react when you feel his mouth on yours, but after a few seconds you return the kiss with equal passion. Your hands go into his brown hair, pulling it, while at the same time you press his face even harder against yours. Instead, his hands travel the way from your hips to your butt to your thighs, where with a nimble move Remus pulls you up as if you weighed nothing, while your back collides with the cold stone wall, enough to make you moan into the boy's mouth.
So you stay endless minutes kissing, in that lost hallway, while underneath the music seems to give you the tempo with which your tongues must move.
Then Remus pauses, trying to catch his breath, leaning his forehead against yours, still trying to keep at bay the wolf inside him that was clawing at the door to get out.
"You're still in time to run away baby. If you don't leave now, I don't know if I can guarantee that I can stop another time." Remus whispers a few inches from your lips as you too catch your breath. You look at him confused, not understanding why he sees what you were doing, or what you might soon be doing, as a terrible thing you would like to run away from instead of something you have been running toward for years.
And instead of answering him, she starts humming the song that had just started at the party.
"Tonight's the night we're gonna make it happen-" Whispers kissing his forehead. "-tonight we'll put all other things aside-" You continue kissing his eyes. "-give in this time and show me some affection-" You sing as you kiss his cheeks, hearing him moan, almost as if it is a pain what you are doing, even though you know for sure from the erection pressing against your belly that it is not. "-We're goin' for those pleasures in the night.-" You say finally kissing him on the lips, lightly brushing against his before continuing to sing. "-I want to love you, feel you, wrap myself around you, I want to squeeze you, please you, I just can't get enough, and if you move real slow, I'll let it go-" now, however, it is he who begins his attack with slow kisses from your ear to your mouth, not even touching it though before moving down to your neck.
"-I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it, I'm about to lose control and I think I like it, I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it, and I know, I know, I know, I know I want you." You finish singing the refrain panting as he finishes leaving marks all the way down your neck to the hollow, leaving almost his mark, wanting everyone to know who was lucky enough to have you in his arms and on his lips.
"Do you still have doubts Lupin, or should I go back to my room and do for myself what you haven't given me yet? Or maybe I could go back to the party and find someone, maybe Sirius-" You try to provoke him, but your words die in your throat as one of his hands tightens around your neck.
"Don't ever try to mention another guy's name at the moment I'm about to fuck you, or next time not only will I leave all these bites on your neck but I'll also put a nice collar on you." He states in a hard, confident voice, enough to make you tremble, as you feel a warm sensation creating in your lower abdomen. "You'd like that wouldn't you, baby? A nice collar that tells everyone where you belong?" He continues, realizing that he has touched the right keys.
You gasp and search within yourself for the strength to respond to him.
"Lupin, I swear if-" You try to say, but you can't finish.
"Oh my baby, are we off to a bad start? What's my name?" He interrupts you, tightening his grip on your neck a little more.
"Remus, please Remus I need you."
"What do you need baby?" He asks, as with a sly grin he watches you wiggle under his gaze, as if your body is on fire.
"I need you to fuck me. Now. There's a broom cupboard nearby, no one ever comes by here." You propose in hopes of soon alleviating the feeling of longing you feel.
"And here I thought all you did was keep your pretty little nose in the books all the time." He taunts you, as always with your legs wrapped around his waist and one arm wrapped behind your back and the other on your neck, he leads you toward the place you suggested just now.
"And now I find out that instead you are nothing but a little whore, ready to get fucked in the broom closet. Don't worry baby, I'll prove to you that once again I'm better at it than you are."
"Oh yeah and how?" You manage to say, once the door to the cramped little room, capable of holding only the two of you standing, is closed behind you. Dust gets into your nostrils, and you don't even want to think about how many bugs there must be on these walls, but the only thing you care about now is the man between your legs, and what he might do.
"You'll learn to recite my name better than any spell they've ever taught you, and I know for a fact that you'll appreciate its result much more, I'd say it's nothing short of ecstatic." He replies, before venturing back to your lips to devour you as if it were his last meal on earth, and he hadn't eaten in weeks.
You feel his warm hands settle on your breasts, and then reach to the edge of the T-shirt you are wearing and slip it off, leaving before his eyes a view of your chest, covered only by your bra.
"Merlin, how I love your boobs." Remus confesses, before moving on to leave open-mouthed kisses and bites on all the skin he finds available, then quickly and surely removing your bra in less time than you realize.
Now that your hair is uncovered and in contact with the cold night air, it stiffens, and the young wolf is not slow to take one between his lips and tease the other with his hand, until your hands are violently embedded in his hair and your moans grow louder and louder.
"Please, Remus, I need more." You beg him in a whisper, so you feel one of his hands rest on your hip, while the other descends to your panties, and his mouth continues to torture your right hair, with the constancy with which he wants to prove he is better than you in class. He lowers one of your legs by resting it on the floor, so that access to his coveted treasure is easier. His hand grazes your pussy from above your panties, sending a shiver down your entire back as you gasp through your lips, resting your head on his shoulder.
With a gentle gesture he moves his fingers between your panties and the most sensitive and delicate spot on your body, making you gasp.
"God baby, I didn't think you were so wet." He comments, making you blush. "Didn't you want more baby? I swear I won't stop until you beg me to stop." He whispers in your ear, pulling away from your nipple for a moment, then attaching the other one, leaving the one from before wet from his saliva to the night breeze, thus making you shiver with pleasure again and getting you even wetter.
One of his long, slender fingers enters you, teasing you, before adding a second. He moves his fingers with agility and confidence, like those of a musician performing his favorite piece that he has been playing for years now. He touches inside you in all the right places, making you moan with pleasure.
That delicious torture goes on for minutes that seem like hours.
Your lips are on the verge of splitting from how much you are biting them, when you feel coming like a wave the orgasm to which your gestures are leading you.
"Remus I'm going to-"
"Cum." He says simply, looking you fixedly in the eyes, from his full height. You stare gazing at those wonderful chocolate-colored crystal orbs, illuminated by the gentle moonlight filtering through the cracks in the door, when you can no longer stop the inevitable in the face of his oh-so-dry command. You reach the pinnacle of pleasure, and it is as if for a moment you can touch the sky with your finger. Your soul goes out of your body for a moment, until you open your eyes again, gasping and he looks at you with a satisfied look.
"And that's just the beginning baby, you still have to come on my cock." He comments, as with a lightning-fast gesture he unbuckles his underpants and pulls down his panties, just enough to make his member come out. You remain mute staring at his cock for a moment, noting its size: it wasn't the first time you had fucked someone, but none of the guys could match Remus, that was for sure.
"See anything you like baby?" He asks you sarcastically, as you feel your pussy getting even wetter than it already is.
"Maybe, but you still have a promise to keep so you'd better get to work." You retort, before being silenced by his lips. With his hands he directs his cock toward your entrance, then puts it all the way inside you without warning, leaving you breathless with your back pressed against the door. You feel him inside you in places you didn't even think he could reach, as he stays still to give you a minimum of time to adjust to his size.
"Oh baby, don't worry, I'm a man of my word. You will walk out of here that I will have branded you with my cum from inside, so that everyone will know for sure that you are mine." He whispers in your ear before starting to move. He comes almost completely out of you, leaving only the tip in, then comes back in with a dry, sure thump a couple of times, to start moving faster and faster and harder. Part of you wonders if he really means what he said about coming inside you to place his ownership over you, and at the very thought you can't help but tighten the walls of your pussy around him.
"Do you like the idea? Of having my cum inside you dripping down your thighs, letting everyone know you're mine?" He says and you can't help but gasp, the pleasure clouding your mind. "Shit, I can already picture you all proud and strutting walking down the school hallways, no panties on, while everyone stares at you and in your lap all my cum. Who knows maybe I could even get you pregnant." Remus continues, as you moan his name louder and louder, hearing what he says. The young wolf can swear that by now the beast inside him has become uncontainable, the only thing he can think about is coming inside you and making sure you have her pups, to bite you and let everyone know you are uniquely hers, in such an animal way that he is surprised you are not fucking in the woods, just like two wild creatures, since you have now become that: pleasure-seeking animals to survive.
"Remus, come inside me. I'm close to coming again, please." You beg him, after a few minutes have passed in silence, too busy fucking each other to talk.
"First you baby then I will make sure you can have my puppies, however, first you have to squeeze that beautiful pussy you have around my cock. Come for me baby."
And at those words you can't help but come one more time. Your head becomes light, as if floating, as your vision darkens. Your pussy squeezes hard and in rhythm with Remus's cock, which stimulated by your orgasm goes to meet his, letting all his seed pour into you in long, powerful spurts.
You remain still and connected for a few minutes before Remus begins to laugh. You look at him confused and tired, ready for yet another joke from him at you and even more personal teasing after such an intimate moment, when he leaves you a light kiss on your cheek and asks, "Do you really think I would ever be able to hate you, I was convinced you couldn't stand even the sight of me."
Smile in turn as you look at him, before you also speak.
"Well apparently neither of them is as smart in the end as they think they are I would say."
Bonus (I think I definitely have a problem with bonuses)
Sirius looks at his friend, sitting next to him on the settee, as he sees you re-enter holding Remus's hand at the party, now decidedly calmer than an hour and a half ago, when both of you had left without a trace and without telling anyone where you were going. The two of you approach the liquor table, laughing and joking as you look into each other's eyes, with a smile that says a lot about your nocturnal activities in the hallways, though only to those who are able to pick up on the signs.
Sirius and James seeing that exchange look at each other and jumping to their feet scream in unison:
"He did it!" Turning many loving couples around, including their friend and you, watching them confusedly do a dance of joy between bodies of boys asleep from exhaustion and alcohol, not knowing that this night would be the end of you, as they would forever use it against you as an argument in every speech to prove that two such smart people can be, by far, the dumbest.
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autistpride · 2 days
Text
Autism Acceptance
Prompt day 7: Performer AU
Word count: 2500
@wolfstarmicrofic
Remus was so excited he couldn’t stand it. He bounced on the balls of his feet and his fists shook up and down. 
“I’d say he likes the gift,” Regulus said to Remus' mum with a laugh.
Remus could see them watching him to make sure he stayed safe as he made his way around the room. He was practically vibrating and he squealed.  
“What did you expect? You just waltz in here and announce that you got Remus a way to meet his favourite people and didn’t think he would happy stim?”
“I knew my brother and his friends were his favourite but I didn’t think he would like it that much,” Regulus shot back with a laugh before his hand shot out as if he could stop Remus from across the room. Both Hope and Regulus gasped.
Remus ran into the table and then the doorway but his squealing and movement didn’t slow.
“He’ll feel that when the excitement wears off,” Hope said with a sigh and Regulus nodded.
Regulus left the Lupin home at the end of the day. Regulus had never realised when he became a personal assistant for the Lupin family, that he would meet someone who would become his friend. Remus was not that much taller than him and he used his communication device for speaking, although he did often express himself with facial expressions and the perfect noise to express his sarcastic attitude. Remus was the master of eye rolls, eyebrow raises, smirks, snorts, and scoffs as well as the ba-dum-tsh and wa wa wa noises. 
Remus’ room was decorated in bright colours and his bed had a tent over it. He needed help with many life skills still, but none of that stopped them from becoming like two peas in a pod. Technically it was frowned upon for Regulus to have developed an attachment to a patient, but Hope and Lyall had confided in him that Remus had come out of his shell and made so much more progress with Regulus as his aid than he had with anyone else.
Remus also had a cutting dark sense of humour. The number of jokes about body bags and comments on eyes honestly bordered on concern to anyone who didn’t understand the way Remus thought. That alone was enough. But then Regulus found out that Remus loved music. And not just any music, a very obscure  small group of people who sang children's songs but in different genres. Hope apologised many times when Remus kept humming the songs while swinging in his hammock chair and yelling in frustration when the older disc would skip or scratch but wouldn’t allow anyone to help him. He listened in his headphones to the same cd anytime he was overwhelmed or tired and so he was often never without the discman. One day when Remus was busy playing in the little pool set up out in the back garden, Regulus opened the old discman and was surprised to see his brother’s face smiling up at him.  
Regulus’ relationship with Sirius was strained after all the things they went through growing up, but when he went home that day, he immediately called Sirius up and asked Sirius to meet him and to work through everything. They went to therapy together and over the months things had improved and while they would always have some hard feelings, they were friends again. So when Remus’ birthday came around that year, Regulus didn’t hesitate to ask Sirius if his friend Remus could meet Sirius. Sirius was confused why Regulus had a friend who liked his music, especially one made for children. After Regulus explained that Remus was autistic, Sirius readily agreed. He even asked what things were sensory triggers for Remus and made a list. He sent Regulus to the Lupin residence that day with the good news and ensured Regulus that he would take care of everything.
The days leading up to Remus’ birthday were long and yet too short for Remus. He was so excited the days seemed to drag on, but with every day that ended Remus would ask Regulus how many more days left. Pressing the buttons for “See friends today?” as a greeting. Regulus would laugh and make some sort of comment about how Regulus “could see where he ranked” or “I see how it is, not even a Hi Reggie.” That always made Remus laugh and he would say hello and then ask again. So Regulus helped him make a small calendar and everyday they would add a sticker to it to help count down the days. 
The night before, Remus swung in his hammock and listened to his discman. Anytime Regulus looked at him, Remus would push a button on his AAC that said, “I’m so excited!” Regulus watched while working on the paperwork for the week and would always respond, “I know. I know. Tomorrow Remus.” 
Remus went to sleep as soon as Regulus left at seven, saying that the faster he went to sleep the faster that it would be the day he met his friends. Then it was tomorrow and Regulus was knocking on the door. Remus opened it and his face dropped and he quickly pressed on his AAC, “its you.” he just held up for Regulus to read. Regulus snorted, “Hi Reggie. Morning.” Remus didn’t laugh this time and he frowned and held up his device again. “Yes, it's just me for now. It’s seven in the morning Remus, they will be here at ten. Okay?” Remus pouted but nodded and immediately went to his timer. Regulus took off his shoes and shut the door before crossing the room making sure Remus put three hours into the timer and set it back onto the shelf to count down.
When the timer went off three hours later Remus threw open the door. Regulus was across the room and dashed to Remus. Remus knew it was because Regulus was worried Remus was going to run into the road, but Remus wouldn't. Remus knew it was to ensure he didn’t leave without someone but it still was annoying that they didn’t trust him. Remus peered out the door to the empty front garden. It was ten. He set a timer. Remus glanced at his AAC. It was actually after ten now! 
“I know you’re excited Remus, but they will knock when they get here,” Regulus said softly when he took in Remus’ dejected expression. Remus nodded disappointed and right before Remus closed the door a small blue Volkswagen parked on the curb. Remus gasped and quickly looked at Regulus who grinned, “Ya thats them.” 
Remus clasped his device to his chest and shook while swaying on his feet and then froze, dropping his AAC when Sirius stepped from the car. This was why Regulus had insisted Remus keep the silicone case around it, even if Remus gnawed on it sometimes. 
Remus held his hand out to Regulus so they could go out the door. Regulus knelt down and picked up the device and took Remus’ hand. Remus squealed and pulled Regulus over the grass to the vehicle and stopped right in front of Sirius. Remus stared at Sirius, unblinking before turning to Regulus and snatching his device from Regulus and quickly finding the buttons he wanted before holding it up to Regulus. 
Regulus read it, looked at Sirius, and burst out laughing, “yes they would be perfect in it.” Remus smirked.
“What?” Sirius asked, confused.
“Do you want to tell him or should I?” Regulus asked.
Remus didn’t wait, he pressed play on his communication device and a slightly robotic male voice read out, “I want to add your eyes to my collection.” 
Regulus couldn’t help laughing at the expression of confusion and slight worry on Sirius’ face followed by James’ as he had stepped out of the driver’s side while all of this was going on.
Remus narrowed his eyes at Regulus who stopped. “Okay okay I’ll get them.”
Sirius’ expression was one of visible panic and Regulus held his phone to Sirius’ face and took a close up picture of Sirius’ eye and then showed it to Remus. “This one good?” He asked and Remus nodded, mouthing the word wow over and over.
Remus knew people thought his fascination with eyes was odd. Many people had said so, thinking that just because he used an AAC device and needed help with everyday tasks, that he was stupid. They talked about him in front of him like he wasn’t there or able to understand the things they were saying. All his past personal assistants had and Remus had decided that if they were going to treat him like that he would just be like that. That’s all they thought he would be, so he stopped trying to show them otherwise. They had treated him like a burden. 
That was until Regulus came along and he took the time to listen to Remus, to understand.
Remus carried Regulus’ phone into the lounge, staring at the picture. Sirius and James looked at each other and Regulus snorted. 
“If you guys want to set up in the lounge, that would be great.” Regulus motioned to the fairly small but tidy lounge. 
Sirius gave Regulus a small hug and then carried his guitar in. James carried an electric drum kit and his sticks. It wasn't the best, but worked in a pinch, and he could turn the sound down so it wouldn’t be as loud. Mary and Lily brought in the keyboard. Regulus took up the rear and closed the door behind them all. 
They all arranged themselves in one area of the lounge. Hope tried to stay out of the way but brought out an extension cord with a power strip for them when they needed to get everything plugged in and they couldn’t all use the one outlet. 
Regulus took his phone back from Remus with the assurance he would print the picture out for Remus so Remus sat in his hammock watching everyone setup and get ready. Regulus held out his headphones and Remus put them on as Mary counted them down and began. 
Remus rocked in his hammock as he listened. After a few songs Lily sang a soft version of happy birthday as Lyall carried out slices of cake for everyone. Remus ate his cake while everyone chatted. He wasn’t often included in group conversations because there were so many people and they talked quickly, not leaving room or time for Remus to use his AAC. 
But Sirius wouldn’t have it. He asked Remus questions or for his thoughts on the topic and waited for Remus to respond.
When the cake was finished, Remus slowly edged his way over to Sirius and gently ran his fingers over the guitar. Remus had watched the way Sirius played. He had this look about it, the same look that Remus felt when he listened to their songs or talked about eyes or cold cases.
“Would you like to try?” Sirius asked next to Remus suddenly and Remus froze as if he was going to be yelled at.
Sirius lifted the guitar off the stand and motioned for Remus to come closer. Remus stayed where he was watching Sirius ready the instrument again. Sirius slowly reached out, giving Remus time to pull away, before gently taking Remus’ hand and placing them on the strings. Remus looked at Sirius and Sirius smiled encouragingly and Remus plucked a string. It vibrated and the sound that it created made Remus so excited he squealed and his hands clenched into fists and shook. 
They continued like this for sometime before Mary and Lily started to pack up. Sirius had James take his guitar out to the vehicle. Sirius then asked Regulus if he could stay longer and Regulus told him to ask Remus. So Sirius did and a shocked Remus nodded happily.
Sirius sat talking to Remus the whole rest of the time Regulus was on his shift. Regulus sat nearby watching while filling out the paperwork he had to do for the week. 
Sirius asked Remus questions. What song did he like best? Did he have a favourite show? What about movies? What other things Remus was interested in. And he answered his own questions back for Remus to know the answers to.
He didn’t shame or judge Remus and when he found out about Remus’ fascination with eyes he asked what about them was so interesting. And Remus told him. 
Remus liked the way the colours in the eyes melted together. He liked how the pupil changes shapes depending on the lighting. But mostly, Remus liked how the eyes held so much depth and emotion. How you could almost see someone's soul when looking at them. 
Sirius stared at Remus like he had just said the most profound things and then begged Remus to let him write that down for him, that it was the most beautiful poetry Sirius had heard. Remus flushed with pride.
When seven pm rolled around, the clock sounded and Regulus started to pack up and put on his shoes when Remus darted to his room. Regulus watched from the lounge, making sure Remus went to his room and not out the door to the back garden and when the door slammed closed and Regulus sighed. 
Sirius looked shocked and concerned, “Hey what happened?”
“He likely got upset you’re leaving. Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him.”
Remus laid on his bed with the door to his tent closed and the blanket over his head. Remus heard the knock and ignored it. Sirius opened it and poked his head in. “Hey. I’m going to come in and just sit here okay. Regulus is in the lounge if you want me to get him.”
Remus bit his nails and picked the skin on his lips before eventually unzipping the tent. Remus looked out at Sirius who was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and Remus’ AAC in his hands. Sirius looked up from his phone and smiled. “Hey, it's okay to be upset, especially when meeting new people and when having a lot of new experiences going on. And because the fun day is over.”
Remus scoffed and rolled his eyes. He knew it was okay, it didn't mean it didn’t suck that the best day of his life was ending and he would never see his new friend again. 
Sirius laughed and held his phone up to Remus’ face, causing Remus to flinch. Sirius took a quick photo and then turned it to show Remus. “I think your eyes are stunning too.” 
Remus smiled. Sirius pressed a few buttons on the AAC before holding it out to Remus. Remus played it, “see friend Sirius tomorrow?” 
Remus beamed and nodded enthusiastically. 
“I'll see you tomorrow Remus,” Sirius said brightly and waved goodbye before leaving the room and the house.
Remus couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
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nerdyloverparadise · 3 days
Text
Getting to know Chuuya (pt2):
Chuuya technically had pulled you into the Port Mafia so he was the one who had to hand down an item to you. The day Mori told him to give you something of his was the most irritating day ever for him but… he ended up giving you his choker.
“There, keep it… just keep it.”
“Uh… a collar?”
“NO NOT A COLLAR… just put the d*mn thing on.”
The following day, he acquired an identical replacement for himself, inadvertently matching with you.
"I definitely wear it better," he remarked, a hint of amusement softening his frustration.
The bickering almost NEVER ended and there was always something being quarreled about.
“YOU’VE JUST ABOUT PUSHED ME TO MY LIMIT, CHUUYA!” you exclaimed, frustration boiling over as you grabbed him by the throat.
In retaliation, Chuuya seized you by the collar and forcefully pushed you against the wall. “YOU’RE ASKING FOR TROUBLE, YOU LITTLE BRAT!”
There were many times when Chuuya and you would yell in one another's faces, grab each other by the throat, and occasionally crush one another up against the wall. Your heated exchanges often escalated to shouting matches, with both parties grabbing each other in fits of anger. It was a volatile mix of fury, frustration, and a primal need to vent. But in this particular moment, the size of both of your pupils and the lift of your brows had grown rapidly… along with a few other things… like the tension in the room. As his gaze swept across yours, it seemed like he was committing every part of your face to memory and couldn’t stop… until Mori knocked on the door to assess how you were settling in. After that day, You and Chuuya had undeniable chemistry but it was never really touched on or acknowledged.
Over time you started to get used to Chuuya and his behavior. Bickering was always a common trend between you both and it seemed like hate at first glance but most times the real issue was that you both weren't used to expressing any type of emotion besides anger, even when comforting. Despite the constant friction, there were moments when you noticed a softer side to Chuuya. For example…
- Chuuya made sure to protect you under all circumstances no matter how badly you both bickered. Like the time a bullet almost pierced through your arm in a mission. It didn’t take corruption for Chuuya to send the bullet flying back through the assailant's skull…. and leg… and torso. We get it, Chuuya.
But acknowledging those moments felt like admitting vulnerability, so instead, you both continued to trade barbs and sarcasm, hiding the budding warmth beneath the surface. As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, the tension between you only seemed to grow, sparking a fire that neither of you dared to extinguish.
After that mission was over, he wanted to go out to the bar but didn't really want to go alone.
“Man, I could really use some booze right about now.”
“I'm surprised your body can even tolerate booze, half-pint.”
“Half-pint of alcohol does sound grea- wait a minute. YOU CALLIN ME SHORT?”
“Of course not.”
He dragged you along to a bar with him despite you not wanting to go and ordered a bunch of drinks. You sit next to him, swirling the drink around in the cup and tapping your foot. Chuuya drank so much you had to be the one to carry him back to the Port Mafia and the one to deal with his violent hangover the next day. When you both arrive back at the HQ, you lie him down in his bedroom and take off his hat, placing it onto the top part of the lamp and letting it hang like he always does.
“Chuus… *you laugh softly and shake your head.* you're reckless as hell.”
Chuuya starts to snore loudly, almost tauntingly as he rolls over in bed.
“Asshole.”
For the most part this became a weekly thing. You carried Chuuya back to the PM every Saturday when he had drank entirely too much and you both bickered constantly, even worse when drunk. Even then, Chuuya's invitations to the bar carried with it a weighty undercurrent of yearning, his desire for companionship masked by casual banter. What’d you expect? He’s emotionally constipated and let’s be real… you probably are too...
To be continued...
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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 2 days
Text
Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 27
MASTAPOST
His sister knew.
His sister knew, and she joined his parents on a hunt. She joined his parents to sabotage them, because she knew they’d catch up to him. She freed him.
His sister saved him. The tears that she helped stop broke through again. His sister knew, and she saved him. She still loved him, even if he was a monster.
Danny took one more look at the deck of his parents’ boat, and he jumped. He’d never been so happy to be in cold water in his entire life. Scales climbed over his skin. His legs snapped together, bones melding into tail vertebrae. The weapons systems on the SAV were down. Thank you Tuck. It had to be him.
Danny looked up at the hull of the boat, clean and free of barnacles. He turned to the vast depths in every direction. He should be running. He should be getting as much of a head start as humanly or inhumanly possible. There was no way he could come back. No way at all.
He didn’t do any of that. He just felt so… so tired. His body sank down to the bottom of the sea, which was admittedly not far down. His glowing scales and lines lit the way down. On the sea floor, he curled into a ball, clutching himself tightly.
What was he to do now?
His mission was complete. Damian Wayne was reunited with Bruce Wayne. Jazz knew about Danny’s true nature, so there was no way she’d not know that the spitfire of a green guppy was Damian. One quick explanation was all it would take for everything to end well. Bruce Wayne would bring his son home. And his parents-
He palmed the spot on his chest over his heart. His parents didn’t know. What if he just went home, pretended like he’d been rescued by someone.
Danny’s scales shivered like goosebumps.
The Amity Island sirens were probably long gone. Maybe they’d come back for more trouble next year, but maybe not. For all he knew, Danny Phantom was no longer needed in Amity. No longer welcome, if he was ever welcome in the first place.
His lateral line tinged. The light of his scales illuminated a small guppy swimming in front of him. Danny stared at Damian, the boy crossing his arms and looking over his body. How did he get out?!
“You are uninjured.” Damian said. It was the first he’d heard from him in over 24 hours. Danny would have cried in relief, if he wasn’t already trying to wipe the tears away from his earlier cry.
“D-Damian! Why aren’t you on the boat? Your dad’s right there!”
Damian sat down on the sand in front of him, fingering one of his fins. “This reunion is not amenable to me. You were right. My father is influenced by the Fentons. It would be safer to return to our original plan. I have more reasonable family members to go to in Gotham.”
Danny blinked. “But I thought you hated me.”
“I am still angry with you. And I have not decided whether I have forgiven you or not.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Regardless, nobody deserves to have done to them what the Fentons intended with you. I would have done away with them myself, but entrusted Jasmine Fenton to the job. You’re welcome.”
That was strangely heartwarming. Despite himself, Danny felt a small smile form. “Thank you.”
They sat in silence. Despite being in sonar range, the SAV did nothing. Probably Tucker blinding their systems. The idea that Damian would throw away this chance shook him, but-
Danny recalled the terror. The fear. The overwhelming dread underneath the shadow of a man who could snap his skinny body in two. Perhaps Damian had a point.
Damian scraped a bit of dirt on his arm fin. The two of them were looking worse for wear every day.  “If you are unable to continue, then I understand. I will go through the Panama Canal on my own. Thank you for bringing me this far.”
He grabbed the boy’s arm, stopping him from leaving. “What do you mean on your own?!”
“I will not blame you if you choose to abandon this quest.” Damian’s fins drooped.
Danny shook his head. “You’ve got no supplies, no food, no weapons. We’ve got nothing.”
“I will find more.”
“I can’t abandon you.”
“Even after I caused your capture?”
Danny hunched his shoulders. He filled with determination. “I made a promise, Damian.”
The boys stared into each other’s eyes, searching. Their fins flared, an unconscious fight for dominance. Damian loomed over Danny, defiant. Danny held firm.
“Very well. Are you ready to go now?”
Danny shrugged. “I don’t wanna linger around here much longer. Do you?”
Damian flipped himself so he was belly up. The boy glared at the ship above. “Not particularly. Let us go.”
It was morning when Jazz woke up. Her head lay on a towel and icepack. Warm sunlight streamed into her room. The back of her head numbly throbbed, a reminder of what had happened last night. Emotions simmered. Vestiges of adrenaline, anxiety and stress coursed through her system. Alongside them, relief. She had done it. Danny was safe.
A tear fell through her eye. Would it be the last time she ever saw him?
Jazz pulled herself out of bed sluggishly. The floor in her room and just outside still bore stains from Damian’s mucus. Honestly, boys.
She glimpsed the vast ocean outside her window. They were near the Panama Canal. That was probably where Danny and Damian were headed. It seemed the boys had a plan all along. Danny was strong. Not his superpowers, but his heart. Her little brother had persevered this far, and she hoped that knowing that at least one member of his family loved him for sure would allow him to make it.
For now, she had to face the music. What would her parents to do her?
“JAZZIE!”
Jazz jumped out of her skin. Her father’s feet stomped thunderously through the room. He scooped her up in one motion, crushing her ribs with a tight hug.
“D-dad!”
“Jazzie we were so worried!” Her father sobbed. “We’d just finished fighting off those abyssal abominations when we realised you and Brucie weren’t there! And then we looked in the lab and- and- and-”
Jazz patted her dad’s back. “There, there, dad. It’s alright. I barely even felt anything.”
“Jazzieeee!” Her father cried.
Her mother walked in soon after, a tray of food in hand.
“Honey, you’re smothering her.”
“Oh, sorry!”
Right as her dad let her down, her mother rushed up and engulfed her in another crushing hug. Lots of points in the ‘not smothering’ department there. “We were so worried. How are you feeling? Honey? Is your head alright?”
“Just a bit of a headache, that’s all. I’m fine, mom, honest!”
“Come here now.” Her mum pushed the tray on to her atop a wooden stand that had been lying in the room. “I’ve made you some chicken noodle soup, and I’ve got you some Tylenol for the headache. We’ve also screened you for any remaining siren influence.”
“I can’t believe it! That tiny green kid had it in him to mind control our dear Jazzie!” Her dad cried loudly, tears streaming down. “Are you sure you’re ok, sweetie? We can do some more tests.”
Jazz shook her head. “Dad, I promise I’m fine. I barely even registered anything happening. Just a blur in my head, then suddenly I’m awake in here. Where’s Mr Wayne?”
“We put him in the guest room. Your mind controlled self did a number on him! Guess we won’t have to worry about any human creeps getting the jump on you, eh?”
Jazz’s face twisted in (mostly performative) guilt. “I’m so sorry! Is he ok?”
Her mum shook her head. “Don’t worry about him, honey. He’s just got a bit of a bump on his head now. He’ll be fine.” Served him right for terrorising her little brother, be it intentionally or not.
Jazz rubbed the back of her head, still throbbing.
“It’s not your fault. It was the fault of those damn crafty fish.” Her mother’s face sank.
Jazz leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “What’s the damage then?”
Her dad sat down. “Well it ain’t pretty. The engines are gonna need recalibrating. Then the rudders fixed. Thankfully we’ve got all the spare parts we could need and more, but it’ll take a day and a half, maybe more, before we’re seaworthy again.”
“Can’t believe all that crying was just act.” Her mum muttered darkly. “Just buying time for his friends to show up.”
Jazz put her noodles down, and gulped a handful of pills. “What did Phantom do?”
“Mostly he tried to lie to our faces. Then put on a show of being scared and helpless. I can’t believe we fell for it.”
Jazz stared into her mother’s eyes. And what she saw shocked her. Instead of the conviction, the hatred and the determination that usually backed those words, Jazz found vulnerability. At first she thought it was because her mom thought she’d lost her chance to get Danny back. But none of that occurred in the days leading up to this event. Not once during this expedition had she seen such uncertainty.
“Mom? Are you ok?”
The uncertainty disappeared underneath a mask, underneath her red goggles. “I told you not to worry, sweetie. Get some more rest. Your father and I have a boat to fix.”
“That’s right! I don’t wanna see you running around trying to help us, got it?”
Her parents filed out of the room, leaving her to her thoughts.
Jazz went for her phone.
Tucker blinked himself away at the morning sun. Immediately he went for his laptop. He went into the Fentons’ systems, went into their cameras and detection equipment, breath baited.
The lab was empty. The sonars were clear. The radar was clear. He wanted to cry. They had done it!
“Yes!”
Sam groaned beside him. Right, he was in her room. “Please celebrate quietly, Tuck. You’re killing me.”
Tucker winced. Sam looked not much better than last night. She was swathed in bandages like some anime main character. “Sorry Sam.” He whispered.
“Did we do it at least?”
He lifted his laptop to show her. “Danny’s like 400 miles away. And with what Jazz did, he’ll be getting much farther.”
“Good. I’ll return to the land of the dead now.”
Tuck waved his hands in front of her. “Wait! What about changing your bandages?”
“Ugh.” Sam stayed lying down, but her eyes remained open.
Tucker got to work. His hands moved carefully around Sam’s tender spots. Her skin had regained most of its colour overnight, but was still sensitive. At some point, he put on the news on his laptop, like they had been since Danny left.
“Your grandma’s gonna kill me for letting you do this.”
“Not before she kills me first.” Sam muttered. “And not before I kill Danny for giving me this killer headache.”
Tucker snorted. “Be a waste of blood to kill the person you spent it all saving.”
“That’s why I’ll suck out all his tasty fish blood. Like a vampire.”
“Hah! I’m pretty sure Hamon and vampirism don’t mix Sam.”
Sam whacked him in the head with a pillow. “It’s the Focus, not Hamon.”
The news feed switched to a familiar image. Sam pulled herself to a sitting position. “Turn it up, Tuck!”
‘On to other news, it has been over 96 hours since Damian Wayne, heir to Wayne Industries, was viciously attacked by sirens. Only a day later, Bruce Wayne, father to the boy, set off with local siren hunters Jack and Maddie Fenton. They have not been heard from since. We interviewed government experts, Operatives K and O for their statements,
The presenter gestured to a large TV screen showing two of the smarmiest bastards Tucker had ever met (second only to, ugh, Vlad).
“We share our condolences to Bruce Wayne for his loss. The siren menace continues to plague this country and others.-‘
“Bullshit!” Sam shouted.
“As a result, we are calling for all citizens in coastal areas to be on high alert. These fish freaks are living among us, seeking out the weakest and most suggestible, and then luring them to the bottom of the sea to be eaten, or worse.’
“And what of Damian Wayne?”
Agent K lowered his head. He placed his hand on his heart. Tucker heckled at the terribly stilted and overwhelmingly dishonest display.
‘We regret to say that he was torn to pieces, and eaten. We will be pursuing his killer, a siren dubbed Phantom, to bring to justice.’
Sam clenched her first. “The only justice we need is for your entire organization to burn and every single one of you in The Hague!”
‘If any of you see or suspect Phantom, we implore you to contact our offices immediately. This specimen is no Little Mermaid, but a vicious predator who will take away everything you hold dear.’
The newscast cut away from the two men. The presenter continued with a constant cool composure, despite the grim subject matter.
‘Indeed, the attacks on Amity Island have gained national attention as a result of Damian Wayne’s death. However, there has nonetheless been pushback against the narrative presented by the GiW. In Baja California, Mexico, residents of a small fishing town were shocked to find an entourage of Atlantean soldiers escorting a group of illegal whale hunters. The poachers have since been deported to the United States, but not before they claimed to be attacked by a siren matching the mysterious Phantom’s description, in addition to another small green siren. Our correspondent in Mexico has the scoop.’
The newscast cut to a female Atlantean soldier and a young reporter.
“The boat was covered in ice, like it was the Arctic or something. So were the poachers. One guy was covered up completely except for his mouth. I’m sure we accidentally ripped off a layer of skin or two breaking it. Feel kinda bad, but they’re poachers so meh. Not to mention all the slime.” The soldier shuddered visibly.
“And what do you think provoked the sirens to attack the ship? Are the sirens just very conservationally-minded?”
She shrugged. “Hell if I know. My guess is the humans were creeping up on their territory.”
The news segment droned on to less interesting details. Tucker and Sam had heard enough.
“Damn, Sam! Looks like your ways are rubbin’ off on Danny.”
Sam chucked another pillow at him. Tucker dodged. “You mean he’s giving himself away. I hate poachers as much as the next guy, but he has invisibility for fuck’s sake. Why did he let himself get seen!?”
Tucker shrugged, mimicking the Atlantean woman on the video just then. “I’m sure he’s got a good reason somehow.”
“Or he forgot he could do that.”
“Or he forgot he could do that.”
Tucker shut his laptop closed. “Welp, if that’s all, I gotta run back before my mom doubles my grounding.” He winced.
The boy clambered out Sam’s window, and waved her goodbye.
“Thanks Tuck. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“We’re Team Phantom, baby! We’re riding high or dying, and there’s no in between!”
Samson Skulker stood over the edge of his yacht, a beautiful glass of red wine in hand. Below him, his trusty dolphin cohort surfaced, chittering information. The wound on his leg was healing nicely, and his suit was ready too. It was incredible. Simply incredible how much poor little Phantom could swim in a single day. Faster than any other sea creature in the world, except for his own species. It was an exhilarating hunt, even if he had to upgrade his engines over and over just to keep up.
“Panama Canal, you say? Well, well, well. This will be interesting.”
Skulker pulled out his phone and dialed the number he’d seen on TV.
“Hello? I’d like to report a Phantom sighting. I saw him heading towards Panama. I think he’s making Panama his next target.”
Let’s see how the little fishies squirm when there are a couple dozen more sharks in the water.
The water had been getting shallower, brighter. It tinged with the smell of wood and metal and oil. Seagulls cried from above. Damian knew where they were. Knew they were close.
To be continued…
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scaly-freaks · 2 days
Text
cherry wine stains 8.0
playing it a little differently and rewinding back to their school years but with an Aegon POV this time.
all previous parts in pinned.
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"I like your knee-high socks."
"I like the chain you wear like a crucifix."
"Strange way to describe it."
"I don't know. It just - it hangs around your neck like the absence of something."
Her words dissolve like sugar into the cup of his mind.
Clever people don't realise the riptide of their soul is not being fed until they meet another clever person. Aegon's currents slow to a whispered crawl as his eyes trace Amara's profile, creating images in the tangle of her windswept curls.
She's left a lipstick print on his mother's favourite mug. When he sees it, his soul unhooks from where he keeps it folded away, right there at the base of his neck where the silver chain fastens.
Later, he'll kiss that print, see if the measure of his mouth is enough.
Helaena told him in private: You can't! You can't, you can't, you can't! You ruin everything!
The frantic protests of a younger sister who thinks - knows - that her older brother getting involved with one of her friends is going to end up in a loss for her. He's dated one of Helaena's friends before (it ended in the kind of operatic disaster you only ever see on Eastenders).
He does not want to date Amara as much as he wants to pry her open like a game of cat's cradle and weave apart the strings that keep her mobile. Half the time, Aegon suspects she isn't truly awake. Some part of her is drowning in slumber, deep as Briar Rose. He catches that moment sometimes, as she blinks at him with those sleepy eyes.
The texture of her thoughts - when she gives them up - slips like satin over his fingers.
"Do you want a smoke?" He flips the mint-green box in his palm and grins.
Her gaze is longing. "I told my mother I'd quit. Besides, aren't menthol cigarettes banned here?"
He shrugs, slipping one between his pinched lips to hold it steady. "Nothing's banned if you squint."
"Flawed logic," she laughs.
"She said to a drug dealer."
That makes her laugh harder. He likes making her laugh. Feels worthwhile somehow. Not much in his life feels that way these days.
The younger siblings are all growing up, leaving school, moving onto greener pastures, where the chaotic drudgery of the council estate turns into a crystalline vision in the rearview, something to put into personal statements and add what rich tossers would call flavour.
They don't need him like they used to. He and his mother have raised them to become self-sufficient and now Aegon has to figure out what he wants to do with himself because where the kids are going, they won't want to admit what their brother does - has done - for a living to ensure their survival. He predicts he'll be the family embarrassment every Christmas, the uncle that shows up drunk, with a sliver of something in his eyes that suggests he could have been something once.
He knows he won't end up that way. His need to be someone, get somewhere, is far too aggressive. But he does fear no longer being needed by the people who have relied on him so long he can no longer extricate himself from the identity of protector.
Maybe it's why he likes making Amara laugh.
She doesn't have siblings. Her eyes still dart around, nervous, as if aware her protection in this world is lacking compared to that of others. Her parents won't always be around. When they are gone, there won't be siblings to divide her grief up with. It'll just be her.
If his subconscious is turning her into his new surrogate sister, it doesn't reconcile well with the instinct that stirs when her skirt rides up an inch.
Alicent's stained glass lamp flickers, bulb on the brink of permanent death. Aegon reaches over to ensure it is screwed on properly and it affords them a last burst of weak light. Amara reaches out her hand under the dappled glow of its illumination, slipping her fingers under the violets, yellows and greens, as the crook of her elbow turns rose pink.
"I've always liked your mother's taste in furniture."
"Yeah? Take it. She wants to throw it out."
"No. If she's decided it's dead, it should go. I'll just be keeping the corpse if I took it."
Aegon's eyes wrinkle at the corners, smile disguised by the inhale of the cigarette. "It's not organic material. There's no corpse."
She glances at him, as if aware of his mockery despite the affection he delivers it with. "I think some inanimate objects come alive if they are loved enough. Alicent's had this lamp since I've known her. It's lived with her, and now it'll die. We shouldn't interrupt the process."
No wonder Helaena adores her.
They are both odd creatures, his little sister, and this intense, doll-eyed mirage that turned up at their doorstep one day, hungry for oven chips and love. She reached out her cold hands to Alicent, and found herself overwhelmed with the warmth and affection given in return.
He's known her so long, she should feel like a sibling.
What does it say about him if he can't stop wondering what it must feel like to graze his lips over her stomach and tongue that bellybutton ring she got in a short-lived fit of rebellion?
Aegon flicks aside the cigarette, mouth acidic with guilt.
He isn't the kind of person who wants. Other people want. Aegon goes out and gets. There isn't enough time to submerge in the feeling of want and understand the true depth of craving the human soul can achieve.
But he sees the whorl of soft hair at the nape of her neck and the feeling crawls up the rungs of his ribcage like a creature possessed. He pictures being small enough to curl up in the soft folds of her clothing, to soak in the scent of her until he passes out from exhaustion.
That feels like enough wanting for today.
"I'll see you downstairs, yeah?"
If she looks disappointed, it's just wishful thinking on his part. She knows he's not going anywhere. He'll be in the living room with the rest of the family who've put on Shrek and are split into two groups - the half that sings along, and the half that won't.
"I'll be down in a bit."
"Cool."
A sudden gust of wind lifts her hair, and the flimsy ribbon comes loose. He catches it before it finds freedom. She turns, expectant, waiting for the inevitable return of her almost-lost property. He pulls it between his fingers, wonders if it also carries life inside the woven thread, the way she claimed his mother's lamp does.
The weight of her hair rivals Isolde's.
Irish myths were a rooted part of his childhood, laced into Alicent's quiet voice every bed time. She swears the Hightowers are mostly, if not fully, Irish. But she could never be sure of how far back, or of the intricacies of any bloodlines. Rich people have the luxury of unfurling a family tree across the polished mahogany of their dining room table. They get to find their eyes, noses and mouths in the faces of people who lived too long ago to care what has become of their DNA.
Poor people make do with maybes and perhaps because most of the time, the lives of their ancestors are of no interest to anyone but themselves. Unless a mining forefather was crushed in a collapse and the resulting riots tore down a political establishment.
So, his mother pulled them back to times so ancient, the ancestors became common for all, their bloodlines too distant to maintain individuality.
If Tristan and Isolde are in Aegon's ancestry, that past life becomes tangible when he runs his fingers through Amara's hair and tames it into a braid he's practiced on Helaena a hundred times.
"There's something mythical about your hair," he says, and then cuts himself short because he deals drugs for a living, and whatever fancy thought this was about to be would make more sense from someone more booksmart.
She cranes her neck back and gives him the brightest upside-down smile. "That's the best compliment anyone's ever given me."
Aegon bites the inner corner of his lip and nudges her to look straight so he can keep braiding.
Once her eyes are off his face, it splits into a smile. Warmth drains down his spine like gold egg yolk poured from its shell. Once the braid is done, he rests his chin on the top of her head, and passes it off as brotherly with a goldfish-squeeze of her cheeks.
He lingers, inhales deep, smells her, turns her scent into binary code that he will decipher in isolation later.
"Don't be too long. You'll catch your death out here."
51 notes · View notes
q-gorgeous · 3 days
Text
Wing-Bully
fanfiction
ao3
word count: 5267
No one knows au except dash baxter @xscarletsakurax
this is a rework of something that was gonna go write some other writing i did but then i split them into two different fics because the halves didnt vibe with each other kjhgvcf
hidey hey
“Dash, you’re here so we can work on our project for Lancer’s class. We’re not supposed to be down here.” 
“Come on, ghosts aren’t even real. How dangerous can it be down here?”
Danny rolled his eyes. “Dangerous enough that we should really be wearing jumpsuits to protect us from ecto-contamination.”
He walked over to the closet that was down there and pulled out his jumpsuit while Dash laughed at him. 
“Matching outfits with your parents? Lame.”
“Don’t complain to me if you get ectoplasm poisoning then.” 
Danny pulled on his jumpsuit and groaned at the sticker on his chest. He pulled it off and tossed it away. 
“What’s this?” Dash pointed at the deep hole in the wall. Danny walked over to him.
“That’s my parent’s ghost portal. It didn’t end up working though.” 
Dash pushed him towards the portal. “Why don’t you go check it out?”
Danny frowned at him and tried to catch his footing. “No. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I can’t-” 
“Haha, go in.”
“Dash, stopping pushing me-”
Danny tripped backwards over the threshold of the portal. He tried to catch himself on something on the wall but all he ended up doing was pressing a button that for some godforsaken reason was on the inside of the portal. It hummed around him and after a few moments everything went green. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Glad to see you’re not dead, nerd.” 
Danny looked up to see Dash. It was too early in the morning to deal with him after yesterday. 
“You already knew I wasn’t dead.” 
“A man can dream.” Danny rolled his eyes at Dash’s comment.
“I remember someone crying a lot of tears yesterday when they thought I was dead.” 
A blush rose on Dash’s cheeks. “My adrenaline was running like crazy! It’s not my fault your screams triggered some kind of primal response in my brain!”
“Crying is a primal response now?”
Dash rolled his eyes back at him and crossed his arms. “Have you figured out your whole ghost thing yet?”
“It’s literally been one day.” Danny stared at him. “How could I have figured anything out yet?”
Dash leaned in close to Danny and he glanced at Dash’s lips for a moment before his gaze darted back to Dash’s. “Maybe your parents have some sort of cure. Or maybe it was a one time thing. I don’t know.” 
“Why do you care so much? It’s literally your fault this is happening.”
Dash raised a hand and looked like he was reaching to place it on Danny’s shoulder. “I just-”
Dash was interrupted by someone clearing their throat behind them. They turned around and were met with Sam and Tucker. She was glaring at Dash with her arms crossed. 
“What are you friends with him now?” Sam asked, angrily gesturing at Dash.
“Woah, so what if he wants to be friends with me?” He asked, stepping towards her.
She barked out a laugh. “Come on! You’ve been bullying him the entire time I’ve known both of you. Why would he want to be friends with you? You must be blackmailing him or something.”
“Sam, he’s not blackmailing me.”
“How can we trust that? You could be lying because he’s blackmailing you.” Tucker frowned at him and reached out a hand, placing it on Danny’s shoulder. “I don't want what happened in elementary school to happen again.”
Danny shrugged it off. “That’s not what’s going on. Why can’t you just trust me on this?”
“Because this isn’t smart.” Sam said. “Why do you guys need to be friends?”
Danny threw his hands into the air. “Why are you getting so defensive about this? You’ve literally only seen us have this one conversation and you’re already mad at me. For all you know we could have been assigned a project together or he’s asking about his tutoring sessions with Jazz. Maybe he had to reschedule and wanted me to tell Jazz.”
Tucker shuffled where he stood but Sam still stared at him with crossed arms. 
“Yeah but are you going to tell us the real reason?”
“Does it matter, Sam?” 
Out of the corner of his eye Dash saw Danny start slowly sinking. He panickingly grabbed Danny’s arm to prevent him from sinking any further into the ground. Danny tried to keep his expression neutral but Dash could tell he was shaken. 
“Oh. Is that what’s happening?” Sam looked between the two of them. 
“Is what happening?” Danny asked, frowning at her. 
“What kind of enemies to lovers bullshit is this?” Dash’s eyes widened at her outburst. What was she talking about? What did she think was happening?
His gaze landed on where his hand was still wrapped around Danny’s upper arm and he pulled it back like he’d been burned. Sam scoffed. 
“Sam-” Tucker started but she interrupted him.
“Do you even realize how toxic that kind of relationship can be? He’s just going to hurt you.”
Danny recoiled at her words. “What are you even talking about?”
“The fact that you two seem to be getting real cozy with each other? Are you dating or something?” 
Dash stepped in front of Danny. “How shallow do you have to assume the only reason I’d be talking to him now is if we’re dating? For your information, we used to be friends as kids.” Dash frowned at her and watched as she backed up. “Just because you’re self conscious about your major crush on Fenton doesn’t mean you have to take it out on us because we’re having a simple conversation.”
A blush appeared on Sam’s cheeks before she angrily stormed away. 
“Sorry.” Tucker said as he looked between them again before he followed after her.
Danny watched them as they walked into the school. He was quiet for a few moments before he turned his gaze back to Dash.
“Sam has a crush on me?”
Dash groaned. “That is what you’re focused on?” He started walking towards the school.
Danny followed next to him. “But I didn’t know that! How did you know that?”
“You’re just about the only person who didn’t know, Fenton.”
Dash pushed through the front doors of the school. Danny had a dazed look on his face. 
“Is that why everyone calls me clueless?” He whispered. 
“Clueless strikes again.”
Danny frowned up at him. “Oh what, you’re so observant, are you?”
Dash pushed open the front door of the school. It swung closed behind them. “More than you. I’m not even friends with Manson and I could see the blackened heart eyes she was giving you.” 
Danny shuffled his backpack on his shoulders as they walked down the hall. “I’ve just never seen her that way. I don’t like her like that.”
Dash’s brows shot up on his forehead. “You don’t?”
Danny shook his head. He veered off to the right and Dash followed him to his locker. “She's just a friend to me.” 
Dash leaned against the lockers while Danny tried to open his but his hand just ended up passing through the dial lock. He groaned.
“Maybe you should tell her that, then. Get it over with so she doesn’t try to kill anyone that even thinks to get close to you.”
Danny rolled his eyes. He finally got his locker open. “She wouldn’t kill anyone for getting close to me.”
“I don’t know.” Dash drawled. “She looked like she was gonna claw my eyes out back there. Like a creepy bat girl.”
Danny slammed his locker shut and turned to look at Dash. “You know, if we’re going to be doing whatever this is, I would appreciate you not making comments about my friends like that.” 
“But she can talk to me like that?”
Danny frowned. “No. I literally told her there was no reason for her to be talking to you like that for having a simple conversation with me.”
“But she’s allowed to not like me?”
“That’s your own fault.” Danny rolled his eyes. “She has every right not to like you.”
Dash huffed. He was about to say something but then Danny started sinking into the floor again. Danny panickingly grabbed Dash’s forearm to prevent himself from sinking any further in. Dash pulled him up and when he set him back down, his feet were solid again. Dash looked around them and miraculously no one else in the hall saw what happened. 
“I’m already over this.” Danny mumbled as he let go of Dash. 
“Do you think you’ll get control over it eventually?” Dash asked him. 
“Hopefully. Otherwise I’ll probably have no choice but to ask my parents for help. I really don’t want to do that though.” 
“Maybe we could do some training? Or practice? You won’t get used to your powers if you just try to ignore them. If you try to do it, then maybe you’ll understand how to not do it.”
Danny nodded. “That makes sense. I guess that’s what we’ll have to do.” 
They came to a split in the hallway. Danny looked up at him.
“Well, I’m going this way.” Danny hooked a thumb over his shoulder as he turned to face Dash.”
Dash nodded. “See you later. Hopefully you don’t drop anything today.”
“Hopefully. We’ll see.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Thirty four beakers. 
Danny was finally getting ahold of his powers and all it took was thirty four dropped beakers and a lifetime ban from handling anything fragile while he was at school. 
Aside from the frequent ghost sighting, things were starting to look up.
“Manson!” 
If only Dash could learn to keep his thoughts to himself when it came to his friends. 
“What is this garbage?” 
He stomped up to where the three of them were sitting at their table in the cafeteria. Sam frowned at him. 
“It’s not garbage! It’s recyclable organic matter.”
“It’s garbage.” Danny and Tucker said together. 
Danny gasped out a breath of cold air. He looked around him. He saw a lunch lady ghost behind the food counter. 
Dash followed his gaze to where the ghost was. He saw it just as she walked behind the wall. 
Dash looked back at Sam and held up his plate of mud, pushing himself between Danny and his friends. “When I asked for a mud pie, I thought I was gonna get a mud pie. Not a literal mud pie!” 
“Actually, it’s topsoil.” 
“Whatever. Are you going to actually eat this garbage?”
Danny slipped away while Dash argued with his friends. Maybe Dash arguing with his friends could actually be useful for something for once. 
He found somewhere to hide and transformed. He flew invisibly back to the cafeteria to the room the lunch ladies worked in. She was floating there looking around and the food and the lunch trays. She kind of looked like Tucker’s grandma. 
She caught sight of him. Danny was ready to bolt as she floated up to him, but she wasn’t making any moves to attack him.
“Hello.” She said sweetly. “Can you help me? Today’s lunch should be meatloaf, but there’s not any here. Did someone change the menu?”
“Oh. Uh, yeah. They’re trying something new this week.” 
Danny jumped back as her hair suddenly flamed up with her anger.
“The menu has been the same for fifty years!” She shouted at him. 
“Wait-”
She levitated some plates and shot them at him. Danny dodged and caught them, avoiding getting hit. What was up with this lady? Why was the menu so important? 
“The menu is sacred! Lunch is sacred!” She spoke in her sickly sweet voice again. “Would you like some cake?”
Danny looked at her, confused. “If you’re offering-”
“No one gets cake until the menu is changed back!” 
She held her arms up and meat started flying towards her from every direction. It engulfed her and turned her into a meat monster.
“Meat is the most important food group! Without meat, you’ll remain puny and muscle-less!” 
“I’m not arguing with you there.” Danny mumbled. He geared up for a kick but she grabbed his ankle and sent him flying across the room. 
“I will restore the sanctity of the lunch menu! As soon as I find out who changed it!”
She disappeared in a tornado of meat.
The ghost was gone for now. Danny flew through the wall of the school and collapsed onto the ground. He transformed back and tried to push himself up. He was so tired. He’d never used his powers like that before. He groaned. 
“Hey.”
Danny opened his eyes and looked up. Dash was standing there with his hand outstretched to Danny. He looked at it for a second before he reached up and grabbed it, pulling himself up with Dash’s help. 
“Thanks. That ghost wiped me out.”
“No problem. I wanted to make sure that ghost didn’t kill you. I was trying to find you when I saw you fly through the wall and hit the ground out here.”
Danny nodded. “Yeah that wasn’t fun.” He looked down and saw that he was still holding onto Dash’s hand. He pulled it away and coughed. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I should go check on Sam and Tucker though. I want to make sure they’re okay.”
“The ghost attack was pretty contained.” Dash said. “I’m sure they’re fine.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Ah.” Dash said. “That’s fair. Sorry about dragging out that argument with her.”
Danny shrugged and started walking away. “It distracted them long enough to let me slip away for a bit so. No harm done. At least not to me.”
“Good luck. Hopefully she doesn’t chew your head off.” 
Danny pulled the door Dash had walked out open and stepped back inside the school, shaking the hand that had been holding Dash’s. He made his way through the hallways to find Sam and Tucker. 
Sam slammed open the cafeteria doors as Danny stumbled down the hallway. 
“I still can’t believe you’re talking to that meathead.” She shot at him with no preamble. “He literally antagonizes all of us. And then you ditch us to go meet up with him? I saw you two outside.”
“Sam-” 
“What can you say to defend him?” She turned to look at him. “He beats you up all the time.”
“Not anymore.” Danny said.
“What?” Sam stopped walking.
“He doesn’t beat me up anymore.”
She didn’t say anything to that for a few moments. She shook her head. “I still don’t trust him. I don’t get how you could forgive him so easily.”
“I-” He stopped. Had he forgiven Dash?
Sam shook his head. “Let’s just get to class.”
Danny looked around them. “Where’s Tucker?”
She rolled her eyes. “He said he smelt meat so he went to track it down through the hallways. I don’t know if he’s found it yet.” 
Danny scrunched up his nose. He knew exactly what meat Tucker was smelling. “He’s just gonna go eat whatever random mystery meat he finds?”
“Apparently.”
Danny didn’t respond after her last stilted reply. He followed behind her to their next class. When they walked in she went straight to her seat but he looked up and made eye contact with Dash. Dash gave him a questioning look and Danny just shrugged at him before sitting back down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dash walked into the Nasty Burger. Football had just ended and he was hungry. 
As he was walking to the counter he saw Danny sitting at a table with his friends. Dash smirked and walked over to them.
“Hey, nerds.” He placed a hand on the table and leaned his weight into it. 
Sam rolled her eyes. “What do you want?” 
“I just came to say hi to my favorite nerds. Is there a problem with that?” 
“If we’re your favorite does that mean you’ll stop making fun of us?” Tucker asked thoughtfully. “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, Sam.”
“He’s not going to stop making fun of us, Tucker. The two of them are over there ‘trying to be friends.’” She said with air quotes. “And he still picks on us all the time.” 
“I’ve tried talking to him about it, Sam, but he has a hard time with it.” 
She shot Danny a look. “So why be friends with him? Why give him a chance? What do you see in him?”
“Just because he doesn’t like you-”
Sam scoffed. “Maybe you’re too insecure about your own crush on Danny.” 
Danny whipped his head to look at her. 
“What?” Dash laughed it off. “What are you talking about, Manson?” 
“Yeah, Sam, what are you talking about?” Danny stared at her. 
“Isn’t that what’s been happening this whole time?” She shot back at them. “He’s got some kind of weird feelings for you, he’s trying to get into your pants. Get on your good side. The pulling the girl’s pigtails because you like her bullshit? Don’t you see how weird his sudden change in actions towards you is?” 
“What about your sudden change in actions?” Danny shot at her. “Do you realize how much of an asshole you’ve been lately?”
“Well, maybe if you weren’t friends with-”
Danny threw his hands up in the air. “God forbid if I make new friends! Or try to get along with someone instead of fighting! Or even make decisions for myself.” 
“Danny-”
He cut her off and stood up. “No I’m-” He gasped and Dash saw his ghost sense fog out of his mouth. He frowned. “I’m going home. I need some time alone.” He turned and started walking towards the door. 
“Danny!” Dash followed behind Danny out of the Nasty Burger. 
The ghost was flying above the parking lot shooting ecto-blasts every which way. 
The door slammed behind Dash and Danny turned his head to look at him. 
“I need some time to think. Please just go back inside.” 
He called on his transformation rings. Once they passed across his body he jumped up and flew into the air towards the ghost. 
He watched Danny fight the ghost. He could tell he was angry. He was sloppy today. 
Danny missed a dodge and got hit through the air by the ghost. He ended up turned facing the opposite direction so he didn’t see it start to charge at him. 
Dash’s heart raced as he watched the ghost fly up to Danny. His heart stirred with feelings he wanted to push down. He didn’t need to put himself in danger for Danny. He didn’t feel that way. Danny didn’t feel that way about him.
But as the ghost got closer, Dash couldn’t help as the anxiety skyrocketed. His resolve broke and he picked up a big piece of asphalt off the ground and chucked it at the ghost. It turned to look at him. 
Dash froze when the ghost’s eyes landed on him. What was he doing? Was Danny really that important to him now?
The ghost’s mouth filled up with ectoplasm and shot it towards.
He wouldn’t be able to move in-
Danny knocked Dash out of the way of the ecto-blast just in time. His arms wrapped around Dash’s chest and he flew back. The blast hit the ground where he’d been standing just a moment before. 
Dash wrapped his arms around Danny as they slammed into the ground. He groaned as his back slid across the pavement and Danny looked down at him. He started feeling the back of Dash’s head, running his fingers through his hair. 
Dash opened his eyes and looked up at Danny. He looked panicked. Like something was wrong, but he literally just prevented anything from being wrong.
“Dash, are you okay?”
He nodded. “Back hurts. Head’s fine.”
Danny leaned down and lay his head on Dash’s chest. Dash’s hands slid down Danny’s back and rested at his side and he closed his eyes again. He really didn’t like this whole ghost hunting thing. 
The ghost roared behind them and Dash felt Danny’s head shoot back up. 
“Shit! How did I forget about the ghost?”
Dash waved his hand above him. “Go. I’m fine. I’m just gonna get my bearings on the ground here.” 
Dash listened as Danny finished fighting the ghost. It ended quickly and he could hear Danny’s footsteps as he walked to stand over Dash. Dash opened his eyes and his heart jumped at the way the sun shone on Danny’s white hair. 
Danny held his hand out to Dash and he slowly reached up and grabbed it. Danny pulled him to his feet and looked at their hands. He let go a moment later. 
“I think we need a new rule. No interfering with ghost attacks.”
“What?” Dash frowned at him. “That thing was about to gobble you.” 
Danny crossed his arms. “Yeah, but if I didn’t get to you on time you could've gotten very badly hurt. I thought I knocked your head on the ground when I knocked you out of the way.” 
Dash shrugged. “But you didn’t.” 
“We can’t rely on that.” Danny looked away from him. “Just promise you won’t interfere like that again?”
Dash wasn’t sure if that was something he could actually do. But one look at the expression on Danny’s face told Dash he should at least try. 
“Yeah. I promise.” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Danny was nodding off in the middle of class. They were given time to work on their homework today but all Danny wanted to do was sleep. Having to fight all these ghosts all the time was making his life way too stressful. He wasn’t to sleep or get his homework done or even get to class on time. It was starting to get to him. 
He yawned. While his eyes were shut he heard someone sit down next to him. He opened his eyes and saw Dash in the next seat over. 
“You look tired.”
“Thanks, captain obvious. I didn’t realize.” 
Dash shrugged. He slouched back in his seat. “Your friends are whispering about you back there.” 
Danny turned and looked over his shoulder at where Sam and Tucker sat at the table in the back of the classroom. When they saw him looking Sam turned back around. Tucker just waved at him awkwardly. 
Danny waved back at him. “I wish they’d just sit over here with me.” 
Dash waved them off. “Who needs ‘em if they’re going to be treating you like that.” 
Sam snorted behind them. Dash turned to look at her. “You got something to say Manson?”
“As if we could treat him any worse than anything you’ve ever done to him.” 
Dash shrugged as he faced back towards the front of the classroom. “Hey, at least my character arc is positive. I’ve made amends.” 
“You’ve hardly even done anything. What kind of character arc have you actually had?”
“I-” Dash started but then he stopped. His brows dropped down and he looked at Danny. 
It hit Danny then that the only thing that really changed with Dash’s behavior was how he treated Danny. He didn’t pick on him anymore and he had cared about him, but he immediately resumed the same habits with both of Danny’s friends. Any time that Dash covered for Danny’s whereabouts during ghost fights, the only thing he could think to do was antagonize Sam and Tucker. He could never think up any actual excuses that wouldn’t cause more problems. 
Danny missed part of the conversation. By the time he tuned back in, Sam was glaring at Dash from across the room. 
“Just because he’d rather spend time with me than you-”
Danny’s ghost sense picked that moment to go off and he couldn’t think of a more convenient time for it to have happened. He stood up sharply and made his way out of the classroom quickly. The door slammed behind him as it closed and he was a couple steps down the hallway when the door opened behind him again.
“Danny, wait-” 
“Why do you do that?” Danny turned and frowned at him. 
“What?” Dash’s brows furrowed.
“Why do you dig at them like that? Make them feel bad about what’s going on?”
“Manson-” Dash started but Danny interrupted him. 
“No. Sam and Tucker are mad at me because of you. They think I’m always ditching them to go hang out with you instead.” 
“That’s not my fault!” Dash shouted back at him. “That’s the ghost’s fault!” 
“But they don’t know that!” Danny stared at him. “All they know is that I’m on good terms with you now and I disappear all the time. They know something is up.” 
Dash shuffled where he stood. He knew he was causing a rift between Danny and his friends. No matter how much he liked to antagonize them, he wasn’t proud of it. He wasn’t trying to put distance between them. 
Danny sighed. “She keeps making jabs about us being together like it would be crazy. Like it would be the worst thing in the world.” Danny looked up at Dash. “I would like it if it wasn’t the craziest thing in the world. If it could actually be true. But with the way you treat my friends-” He shook his head. 
Everything around Dash stopped. What? 
“Danny-”
A blue mist came out of Danny’s mouth again. He shook his head.
“I gotta go.”
“Wait-”
Danny ran around the corner away from Dash.
“What did you do to him?” 
Dash looked down the hallway to see Sam glaring at him. Tucker stood next to her. 
“What?” He asked. 
“He just ran away from you? What did you do to him?” She stomped her way over to him.
“Nothing!” Dash held his hands up in a surrendering motion. “We were just talking and he had to go-”
“We’re in the middle of class. What else would he need to be doing right now?”
“Yeah. Why would he be leaving?” Tucker asked. 
“He, uh, went to-”
Sam ran past him and around the corner Danny went down, Tucker close on her heels. Dash followed behind them knowing Danny would already be gone but they didn’t stop there. They ran down the hallway and out the door leading outside. 
“Danny?” She shouted. “Where are you?”
Dash was the only one that noticed Danny floating in the sky. He was fighting an animal type ghost.
“Uh, guys, I think we should probably go back inside.” 
He pointed up at the sky and Sam and Tucker followed his finger. Sam’s eyes widened and she looked around the front of the school again. 
“Danny!” 
Phantom must’ve heard that one because he turned his head to look down at them. The ghost took that moment to hit Phantom, sending him flying through the air. Now he was much closer to them. 
This ghost looked horrifying. It was animalistic but it looked uncannily like a person. Stringy, hair looking fur and teeth curved into a creepy smile. 
“Get to safety! Now!” Phantom shouted down at them. He shot another ectoblast at the ghost. 
“We have to find Danny first!” Sam shouted in a panic. 
“He’s not out here.” Dash turned to go back inside the school. “Let’s just listen to Phantom and get somewhere safe.”
“That hallway doesn’t lead anywhere except outside! Where else could he be?” Sam asked, still turning around looking for Danny. 
“He didn’t-” 
“Danny!” Tucker shouted. 
Dash growled. Why didn’t they just listen to him? 
The ghost let out a shriek and Dash squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears. 
“Go inside, now!” 
Dash’s eyes opened at Phantom’s shout. He looked back up into the air. 
Dash stared at the ghost that was hovering in the air in front of them. It was cackling, its head thrown back into the air. It looked back at the ground directly at Sam and promptly shot an ectoblast out of its mouth. Dash saw Sam’s mouth open the slightest bit and everything slowed down. Danny turned, following the path of the blast but when he tried to fly towards her the ghost grabbed onto him, trapping him. 
This was one of Danny’s best friends. She might hate Dash’s guts but Danny cared for her more than she hated him. 
Without another thought, he pushed himself into a run and sprinted his way across the grass. He put himself between her and the ghost and grabbed her just as the blast hit him in the back.
He could hear Sam scream as they fell to the ground. Tucker was shouting from somewhere else but Dash couldn’t make much out past the ringing in his ears. He could hear scuffling in the air above him but it was muffled. The pain in his back radiated out and he could feel it in every jostle as someone shook his body. 
Everything started fading away and Dash hoped he wasn’t dying. Distantly, he wondered if this is how Danny felt when he died in the portal. 
The voices fell away and so did Dash.
~~~~~~~~~~
Slowly, the world came back to him. The first thing he noticed was the steady beeping nearby. The second thing was how bright the lights were against his eyelids. 
He groaned and he heard some shuffling to his left. Someone placed a hand on his arm. 
“Dash?”
His heart skipped a beat and he slowly pried his eyes open. He was laying in a bed in the hospital and Danny was standing to his left. 
“Danny?” Dash croaked out. He tried to sit up but Danny pushed him back down against his pillows. 
“You shouldn’t move too much. You got hit pretty bad.” 
“You got the ghost though?” Dash asked. 
“Yeah, he got the ghost.”
Sam and Tucker walked into the room and stood next to Danny. 
“Uh, no I asked if Phantom got the-” Dash fumbled, trying to cover it up.
“It’s okay, Dash.” Danny said. “I told them. I thought it might be better if they knew.”
Dash looked at Danny’s two friends. They didn’t look like they were mad at him anymore. Or like they hated him. It was relieving that they knew. Danny didn’t have to keep avoiding them or keep secrets anymore. 
“If we’d known in the first place we could’ve helped, you know.” Sam said, shooting both of them a look. 
“Yeah. A team always needs a tech guy.” Tucker crossed his arms in mock frustration.
“But we do understand why you guys have been acting weird for the past couple months.” Sam turned to look at Dash. “Thank you for helping him even though you didn’t have to.”
Dash nodded, dumbfounded.
She stared at him a moment longer and pulled her gaze away. “And thank you for knocking me out of the way of that hit. Sorry it landed you here.”
Dash shook his head. “You’re Danny’s friends. You’re important to him. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of all this ghost stuff.” 
“That’s a nice thought, but you should also try not to get yourself hurt.” Sam said. 
“Yeah.” Danny frowned. “You promised.” 
Dash shrugged. “We can call it karma.” 
Tucker stepped forward. “We need a name.”
“A name?” Danny looked up at Tucker.
“Yeah, like a cool ghost hunting team name.” He waved his hands in the air. “What about Team Phantom?”
Sam snorted. “That sounds dumb.”
Tucker planted his hands on his hips. “Well, do you have any better ideas then?”
Danny’s hand slowly made his way down from his arm to his hand as they talked. He entwined his fingers with Dash’s and gave him a squeeze. Dash squeezed his hand back. 
Everything would be okay. Everything was okay. 
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lulublack90 · 2 days
Text
Prompt 25 - Criminal AU
@wolfstarmicrofic April 25, word count 857
Sirius, wrapped in his brand-new wool cloak, sauntered down the street, perusing the wears of the local sellers. It was market day, and the locals were out in their droves. Normally, Sirius wouldn’t deem to mix with the riff-raff, but after the stifling morning of lessons and the lecture from his parents about upholding the family name, he’d needed to escape. To lose himself for a while. 
Out here amongst the lesser mortals, he could pretend he wasn’t the heir to the most prestigious family in the country. Even the royals couldn’t hold a beacon to the power and respect garnered by the House of Black. 
He breathed in the putrid smell of the lower classes and revelled in the freedom. He’d just spotted a shabby-looking pie shop and debated braving the questionable-looking meat when a tall man with a face lashed with scars knocked into his side. 
“Sorry, excuse me,” The man mumbled hurriedly before continuing down the street. 
Now, Sirius was many things, but a fool he was not. He checked where his coin purse had been secure in his pocket, and of course, it was gone. 
“Hey, you! Come back here!” He bellowed down the street, his anger rippling through. The man glanced over his shoulder and took off at a full run, his long legs an advantage over Sirius’s shorter ones, but only for so long. 
Sirius had lived his entire life in a saddle, pushing himself and his horses faster and faster for longer and longer. He was built for endurance. His well-muscled thighs were still pumping as the thief began to tire. 
The thief clearly knew the streets well, but so did Sirius, having come here many times over the years to escape. He followed the man down every twisting, turning alley until the lanky being took a wrong turn and trapped himself in a dead end, his back up against the wall.
Sirius slowed to a long stride and casually leant against the narrow passageway in front of the exhausted man. He extended his arm and raised his brow. The thief sighed, threw the purse to his waiting hand and slumped to the floor, breathing heavily. It was then that Sirius noticed how skinny he was and how ragged his thin clothes were. 
“You do this often, then?” Sirius asked sternly, trying to get a feel for the man. The man looked up, shocked to see Sirius still there watching him. He pulled his thin clothes around him tighter and scowled at the brown puddle against the brickwork. 
“No,” He muttered. “You looked like an easy target.” His eyes snapped up to look straight at Sirius. “Clearly not.” He spat onto the ground. “Why are you still here? Get the Bobbys if you want. I’m in no condition to move now.” 
Sirius watched his chest heave with each laboured breath and sighed. For some godforsaken reason, he couldn’t leave the half-starved vagrant.
“You got someone waiting for you?” He asked. The thief flinched. 
“Yes,” He said, and Sirius knew it for the lie it was. This man had nothing and no one. 
“You good with your hands?” He questioned further. Those warm brown eyes dropped and stared beneath Sirius’s cloak. The man began to crawl forward and was reaching towards Sirius when Sirius realised what was happening. “No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He gently pushed the man’s hand away from the buttons on his trousers. “We need a groundsman to tend to the flowerbeds and whatnot. Keep the grass cut, walls intact, that sort of thing. There’s a small hut and a salary with the job. If you want it, of course.” He’d started babbling, so he stopped himself. The brown eyes darkened. 
“What’s the catch?” He rasped from the floor in front of Sirius. 
“Nothing, no catch. Just don’t tell my parents this is where we met.” Sirius panicked for a second. His parents would have the man killed if they knew where he’d come from.
“You live with your parents?” The man snorted but stopped quickly, catching himself. 
“I’m in a different wing,” Sirius explained. He held his hand out to the crouching man. “Sirius Black, heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.” The man gawped. Sirius motioned with his hand for the other man to take it. The man hesitated before slowly accepting it. Sirius helped him haul himself to his feet. “And you are?” He prompted when the man didn’t reciprocate. 
“Remus Lupin. I don’t have a fancy title to go with it.” He said blandly. Sirius threw his head back and laughed. 
“Well, Remus,” He said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “The first thing we’re going to do is get a hot meal into you, and then we’ll pick out some new clothes, but the main thing you need, my new friend, is a bath, because and I do mean to be rude here, you smell worse than the Thames.” He softened his words with a smile and a wink before he turned on his heel, Remus following close behind him as they reentered the bustling streets of London.  
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