#this is all. it was a really quick drawing

[pucksandpower]

Made with Love

Charles Leclerc x amateur baker!Reader

Summary: in which Charles would rather risk the entire paddock getting food poisoning (again) than break your heart by telling you that your baking is horrible

You hum to yourself as you pull a tray of freshly baked cupcakes out of the oven. The sweet, chocolaty aroma fills Charles’ kitchen, making your mouth water.

This batch is sure to be perfect! You’ve been practicing your baking skills for months now, determined to get it just right.

Charles wanders into the kitchen, drawn by the scent. “Mmm, something smells good in here!”

He peers over your shoulder at the tray of cupcakes. They’re a bit misshapen, with cracked tops that deflated the second they were taken out of the oven. The frosting is glopped on unevenly.

To you, they look absolutely mouthwatering. To Charles, they look … well, he loves you too much to say.

“Try one!” You urge, holding out a cupcake. Charles flashes you a hesitant smile before taking it. He peels back the liner and takes a bite. His eyes widen and he forces himself to chew and swallow.

“Well? How is it?” You ask eagerly.

Charles clears his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s great. Your best batch yet,” he lies. In truth, it’s dry and dense, with a strange bitter aftertaste. But the delight on your face makes the fib worth it.

You throw your arms around him in a hug. “Yay! I can’t wait to share them with the team this weekend.”

Charles’ stomach drops. The thought of the entire paddock pretending to enjoy your baking makes him cringe internally. But he plasters on a smile. “What a nice idea! I’m sure they’ll love them.”

The two of you arrive at the circuit and you can barely contain your excitement as you carry a large container of cupcakes into the paddock. Charles trails behind you, backpack slung over one shoulder, his other arm wrapped around your waist. He presses a quick kiss to your temple before you flit off to distribute your baked goods.

You first approach Max Verstappen, holding out a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles. “Here Max, have one!”

Max eyes the treat dubiously but accepts it with a polite smile. “Thanks Y/N, that’s really nice of you.”

You beam and turn to Charles, missing the look of apprehension on Max’s face. Charles catches Max’s eye and draws a finger across his throat in warning. Max’s eyes widen but he nods in understanding. Charles won’t let anything ruin your mood today.

You make your way through the paddock, handing cupcakes to mechanics, engineers, PR reps, reporters, team principals, and drivers. Charles hovers behind you, keeping a watchful eye on each recipient.

Daniel Ricciardo visibly gags on his first bite when you turn away. Charles glares and shakes his head sharply. Daniel rearranges his face into a smile and gives a thumbs up.

Lando Norris takes an overly large bite and Charles has to pound on his back as he chokes it down.

Esteban Ocon discreetly spits his cupcake into a napkin when you’re not looking. Charles lunges forward and grabs his arm, squeezing tightly until Esteban wheezes out “Delicious!”

You remain blissfully unaware of the chaos that falls over the paddock in your wake, oblivious to Charles’ desperate interventions. All you see are your friends and acquaintances enjoying your baking.

When you finally offer a cupcake to Charles, he takes it and eats the whole thing without hesitation. Because even if it tastes like sugary sawdust, the delight on your face makes it the best treat in the world.

“Wasn’t that fun?” You gush to Charles afterwards. “I can’t wait to try out a new recipe soon!”

Charles just kisses your frosting-smudged nose and says, “I can’t wait either, mon amour.” As long as you’re happy, he’ll choke down all the questionable cupcakes you offer. Because your smile is the only thing that matters.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you and Charles arrive for the next race weekend, yet another batch of fresh baked goods in hand. You’re eager to share your latest creations — classic chocolate chunk cookies. You spent hours carefully following the recipe, determined to get them just right.

As you make your rounds distributing cookies, the reactions are the usual mix of forced smiles and discreet spitting. Charles trails behind you, glaring at anyone who doesn’t immediately rave about how delicious they are. The drivers and mechanics quickly catch on, showering you with praise and shooting Charles grateful looks when he turns you away.

You finally offer a cookie to Graham, a mechanic from the Mercedes team. He takes it hesitantly, eyeing Charles standing behind you. But Graham is new to the paddock and unaware of the baked goods situation.

He takes a bite and immediately grimaces. “Ugh, these taste terrible!” He blurts out.

You gasp, stumbling back as if struck. Tears well up in your eyes. Charles is at your side in an instant, pulling you into a comforting hug. Over your shoulder, he shoots Graham a look of absolute rage.

Graham realizes his mistake too late, shame washing over his face. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean ...” he stammers. But you’re already pulling away from Charles and rushing off, sobbing.

Charles turns on Graham, eyes blazing. “How could you? All she ever wants to do is make others happy!” Graham cowers before him, other mechanics backing away nervously.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Graham says miserably.

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Charles snarls. “You stay away from her, you hear me?” Graham nods shakily. Satisfied the message is received, Charles races after you.

He finds you behind the garage, face buried in your hands. “Oh mon ange,” Charles murmurs, wrapping you in his arms. “Don’t listen to him, your cookies are perfect.”

You cling to Charles, sniffling. “I just wanted to do something nice for everyone. But I’m so horrible at baking!”

Charles tilts your chin up. “You listen to me. You have the biggest, kindest heart. It doesn’t matter if the cookies are a little, er, overdone. What matters is you put love into making them. Don’t let someone like Graham get you down.”

You smile tremulously. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boyfriend ever?”

Charles grins. “Hmm, I don’t mind hearing it again.” Laughing through your tears, you tell him again, punctuating it with a kiss.

After ensuring you’re okay, Charles seeks out Graham. “I trust you’ll be more considerate going forward?” Graham nods meekly. “Good. But just so we’re clear, if you upset her again, you’ll be out of this paddock for good.”

The next day, the news breaks that Graham has been dismissed from the Mercedes team for “attitude issues.” You feel a bit guilty, hoping your cookies didn’t cause him to lose his job. But Charles seems strangely satisfied, so you don’t dwell on it.

From then on, Charles redoubles his efforts to protect your feelings whenever you provide baked goods. The paddock falls in line, fawning over your overly salty pretzels and dry banana bread.

The brightness of your smile makes it all worth it to Charles. Because keeping that joy and kindness shining in you is what matters most to him.

***

You step out of Charles’ Ferrari, the engine purring as he puts it in park. Taking his hand, you smile excitedly — today is another fan meetup organized by the team, and you can’t wait to connect with Charles’ supporters again.

“Are you ready, mon cœur?” Charles asks, squeezing your hand gently. His green eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you adoringly.

“Absolutely!” You chirp, patting the large picnic basket hanging off your arm. “I made lots of treats to share today!”

Charles grins and leans in to kiss your forehead. “I’m sure they will love everything you made, as always.”

You beam, bolstered by his encouragement as you both make your way to the event. The meetup is being held in a local park, with tents and tables set up amongst the lush green grass and towering trees. You spot a long line of fans waiting eagerly for Charles’ arrival. Most are dressed in the familiar rosso corsa of Ferrari, holding posters and memorabilia for him to sign.

“Charles! Charles!” They chant excitedly when they see him. You hang back happily, letting him have his moment with his dedicated supporters. Charles takes selfies, signs autographs, and chats animatedly in Italian, French, and English. The fans are thrilled to interact with their racing idol.

After some time, Charles waves you over. “I would like you all to meet someone very special to me,” he announces, wrapping an arm around you. The fans erupt into cheers and applause. “This is Y/N, my love.”

You blush at the attention but manage to give a little wave. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to be here today.”

Charles addresses the crowd again. “As some of you know, Y/N loves to bake and has brought some special treats to share with you all today.”

This is met with more enthusiastic cheers. Though none of them particularly enjoy your baked goods, the fans appreciate the effort and know Charles likes to reward them for humoring you.

You open up your large picnic basket, beaming with pride. “I made my favorite oatmeal raisin cookies, some lemon squares, and my famous rocky road fudge!”

The fans try not to visibly cringe, lining up politely with plates held out. You happily distribute your overly dry, burnt cookies and gooey, cloying fudge. The lemon squares are mushy and saccharine. But the fans accept it all with smiles and encouragement.

“Mmm, delicious!” One teenage girl forces out through a mouthful of your fudge.

An older man gives you a thumbs up as he chokes down a cookie, eyes watering. “So good!”

You beam, pleased that they enjoy your baking so much. As you chat with each person, you don’t notice Charles discreetly handing out autographed photos, caps, and other prized memorabilia to reward the fans for their efforts.

After you’ve handed out all your baked goods, Charles suggests a stroll through the park gardens. As you walk hand-in-hand admiring the flowers, he says softly, “You have such a big heart, Y/N. The way you care so much about connecting with the fans means the world to me.”

You squeeze his hand gratefully. “It’s the least I can do — they support you in everything, so I want to support them too.”

Charles stops and turns to you, his expression tender. “You are amazing, truly. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He leans in and kisses you sweetly. Your heart flutters just like the first time your lips met.

When you return from your walk, the event is winding down. You say goodbye to the fans, who thank you profusely for the treats and making their day so special. You tell them you can’t wait to bake for them again soon!

After the last fan leaves, it’s just you and Charles. The late afternoon sun casts golden light on the empty picnic tables.

“Did you have fun, mon amour?” Charles asks, caressing your cheek.

“The best time!” You say enthusiastically. “I just love baking for your wonderful fans and seeing how it makes them smile.”

Charles’ eyes are full of love. He kisses the top of your head. “As long as it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

You snuggle into his chest happily. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“I don’t think so,” Charles teases. “Why don’t you remind me again?”

You grin up at him. “I’ll tell you over dinner … I have a new donut recipe I want to try out.”

Charles fights down a grimace as he reminds himself that your love is more than worth suffering through another dreadful dessert. “I can’t wait!”

***

“Mate, you have to stop her before she poisons someone,” Max whispers urgently to Charles as you step out of the room.

Charles furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. Her baking. It’s … it’s just terrible. I’m sorry, but it has to be said.”

Charles lets out a dismissive chuckle. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Max raises his eyebrows incredulously. “I chipped a tooth on her brownie last week!”

Charles rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he avoids making eye contact.

“Look, I get that you don’t want to upset her,” Max continues, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “But we can’t keep lying and pretending it’s good! One of these days, someone is going to end up in the hospital.”

Charles sighs deeply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “What do you want me to do? If I tell her the truth, she’ll be devastated.”

You return to the room then, a bright smile on your face as you carry a plate of freshly baked apple tarts. “Who wants one?”

Max cringes almost imperceptibly while Charles shoots him a warning look. “They look great, ma belle!” He says with forced enthusiasm, taking one and bringing it to his lips.

The apple filling is gelatinous and tastes faintly of soap. Charles forces himself to swallow it with a strained smile. Max quickly declines when you offer him one.

Later that evening, Charles finds Max alone outside his apartment building. “I need your help,” he admits defeatedly.

Max looks at him expectantly.

“With Y/N’s baking … how do I get her to stop without completely crushing her?”

His friend contemplates this for a moment. “Well … you could try convincing her to take up a new hobby instead?”

Charles shakes his head. “I’ve suggested that before, but she’s dead set on baking. It’s her biggest passion.”

“Okay, then you’ll have to take a different approach.” Max strokes his chin thoughtfully. “What if … you told her a bunch of us were going vegan or something, so she couldn’t bake for us anymore?”

Charles raises an eyebrow at the suggestion, but then slowly nods. “You know, that could actually work …”

The next day, you eagerly bring a fresh batch of blueberry muffins to the paddock to share with everyone. Charles takes a deep breath before pulling you aside gently.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” He starts, trying to keep his expression neutral.

You blink up at him curiously. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Well …” He clears his throat. “I was talking to the guys and … Lewis has actually convinced a bunch of them to go vegan. Lando, Max …”

He lists off a dozen more names, watching as realization dawns on your face. Your shoulders slump slightly.

“Oh … I see.” You glance down at the muffins in your hands. “I guess that means I can’t really bake for them anymore.”

Charles feels a pang of guilt at the disappointment in your eyes. But then, your expression brightens again.

“I’ll just have to start baking vegan treats instead!” You declare happily. “This is so exciting, I’ve been wanting to experiment with more plant-based ingredients!”

Charles’s shoulders tense as the plan epically backfires. Of course you’d take this as an opportunity to bake even more.

Over the next few weeks, you gleefully embrace the vegan baking lifestyle. Charles has to smother his laughter when Max nearly chokes biting into one of your “chewy” vegan brownies. Lando spits out a mouthful of your gritty vegan chocolate cake when you’re not looking.

You, however, remain blissfully unaware of how dreadful your creations are. No matter how many hints Charles tries to drop, the problem only seems to be getting worse.

One evening, you set a plate of fresh-from-the-oven vegan peanut butter cookies on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch next to Charles with a proud grin.

“Try one!” You insist, picking a cookie up and holding it in front of his lips.

Charles hesitates for just a second too long. Your face falls and he scrambles to take a bite, barely suppressing a wince as he chews on what feels like a solid lump of chalk mixed with peanut shavings. He forces himself to swallow it down with an enthusiastic grin.

“Wow, these are incredible!” He lies through his teeth. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

You perk up immediately, the dejected look vanishing. “You really think so? I tried a new recipe I found online.”

“Definitely a winner,” Charles affirms, trying his best to sound convincing. “We should bring some to the paddock for everyone to try.”

Your eyes light up at the suggestion and guilt twists in Charles’s gut. The last thing he wants is for the other drivers to have to suffer through these … confections. But he could never be the one to shatter your baking dreams.

The next day at the track, you eagerly pass around the plate of peanut butter hockey pucks to the drivers and crew. Charles discreetly pulls Max aside with a pained look.

“Please, I’m begging you …” he murmurs under his breath. “Just smile and nod, no matter how bad they are.”

Max grimaces as he takes an experimental bite of one of the cookies, his expression doing little to mask his revulsion. But he meets Charles’s pleading gaze and forces out a strangled, “Mmm … great!”

One by one, the others follow suit — fake smiles and strained praises as they choke down your baked atrocities. You remain obliviously pleased, unaware of their suffering.

Over the next few weeks, the vegan baking experiments only seem to get worse and worse. The paddock has become a silent circle of culinary martyrs — all sworn to an unspoken code to preserve your feelings at all costs.

You proudly present a tray of charcoal-colored muffins that leave the entire garage coughing from the plume of burnt flour. “Tried a new recipe for dark chocolate avocado muffins!” You explain brightly.

“Can’t wait to dig in,” Lando is close to crying, his eyes already watering.

Charles has to bite back a laugh as Max takes a heroic bite, barely managing to keep it together. He pats the Dutchman on the back firmly as the poor guy fights back a gag reflex.

“Two more words about her baking and you’ll be racing with three wheels next season,” he warns Carlos in a low mutter after witnessing the Spaniard nearly vomit up a slice of your “moist” vegan zucchini bread.

The sheer willpower it takes for the entire crew to maintain the facade is almost impressive. Technique and strategy meetings have now become immense displays of unspoken fortitude — everyone driven by the simple goal of not letting you catch on that your baked goods are, in fact, completely inedible.

Charles has started bringing backup protein bars and shakes to every race just to make sure nobody accidentally lapses into baked good-induced delirium.

He really has no idea how much longer this can possibly be sustained. But he also has no idea how to safely extract the situation without demolishing your passion and self-confidence in the process.

For now, his main objective is to ensure your bright smile and cheerfulness remain unchanged — no matter how many mouths he has to personally silence to make that happen.

At the end of the day, having you by his side, radiating that infectious joy and following your heart’s desire, is worth enduring all the subpar vegan muffins in the world.

He’ll take a bite of your latest abomination with an adoring grin, because that’s what partners who truly love each other do — they support each other through the good, the bad, and the burnt-to-a-crisp.

***

It’s the start of a new season, and Charles has been racking his brain for a solution to the ongoing baking saga. As much as he loves indulging your passion, the charade is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. The entire paddock is at their wits’ end trying to choke down your vegan torture devices week after week.

That’s when he has an idea — one he hopes will be a win-win for everyone involved.

“Surprise!” He says with an excited grin, presenting you with the envelopes. “I got us signed up for this baking course. I thought it could be fun for us to take some classes together!”

You’re beaming as you throw your arms around his neck. “That’s such a thoughtful idea! I would love nothing more.”

Of course, Charles being Charles is hardly fully forthright about his motivations. “To be honest, I’m the one who really needs the help,” he fibs sheepishly. “We all know I’m a disaster in the kitchen. But with your talents guiding me, maybe there’s hope!”

Over the next few weeks, you and Charles diligently show up for your baking classes. The instructor walks you through fundamentals like properly measuring ingredients, controlling oven temperatures, and mastering technical skills. Slowly but surely, your creations start emerging looking (and smelling) better and better.

One evening, you return home with a fresh tray of beautifully baked chocolate chip cookies — the first delicacy you’ve felt confident enough to bake since the lessons. You present them to Charles with bated breath.

He takes one tentative bite, his eyes widening in surprise. These are actually ... edible! More than edible — they are legitimately delicious! The dough-to-chip ratio is perfect, the texture is chewy but not dry or crumbly. He quickly stuffs two more into his mouth with an appreciative moan.

“Ma belle … these are incredible!” He gasps out between bites.

You clap your hands over your mouth, eyes shining with glee. “Oh my gosh, you really think so? I was so nervous!”

“Are you kidding? I could eat this entire tray all by myself!”

The two of you dissolve into celebratory laughter and hugs, the sweet taste of success quite literally on your tongues.

“I think it’s time for the real taste test,” you declare one day, rolling up your sleeves as you start prepping an array of fresh baked goods. “We’re taking these bad boys to the paddock!”

The next race weekend, you stride in carrying bakery boxes of your fresh chocolate chip cookies as well as some decadent fudge brownies.

“Fresh out of the oven!” You announce proudly, setting them down with a bright grin. “Who’s hungry?”

For a long beat, nobody moves. The drivers exchange wary glances, their self-preservation instincts kicking in as they recall the many baking debacles of the past. Lando bravely reaches for a brownie first, his face scrunched up preemptively-

Only to blink in surprise as the rich, fudgy flavor hits his taste buds. His eyes widen comically as he takes another bite. “Bloody hell ... this is actually good!”

The words seem to shatter the suspended tension. Soon the entire paddock is swarming the trays, devouring the fresh baked goods with delight. Charles watches on in disbelief, his own taste buds experiencing flavors he didn’t even know were possible from your former creations.

He sees Max take a bite of one of the cookies, freezing in place as his eyes slip closed with an expression of pure bliss. When they open again, Charles is alarmed to see they’re glistening with unshed tears.

The Dutchman wordlessly holds up the cookie, gazing at Charles reverently as a lone tear trails down his cheek. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he brings the baked good to his lips and takes another sensual bite, savoring it like it’s the first good thing he’s ever tasted.

From then on, it’s like a switch has been flipped. The paddock that once dreaded your baking now seemingly can’t get enough of it. Every race weekend, they await your fresh creations with unrestrained enthusiasm, like kids on a sugar bender.

Charles has lost count of how many times he’s caught drivers and crew sneaking off to wherever you’re prepping the latest batch, nostrils flaring as they try to scout out that heavenly aroma.

It’s gotten to the point where Max’s performance coach has had to implement strict rules about his treat consumption to prevent indulgences from derailing his season.

“Easy there, Max!” Rupert calls in a booming tone, swooping in to physically restrain the Dutchman as he makes a mad dash toward where you’re unpacking that week’s fresh delivery. “You know you have a limit on those.”

Max strains against his performance coach’s grip, eyes zeroing in on the platter of goodies being unloaded with unrestrained longing. “I don’t care, she brought triple chocolate cookie dough brownies this time! Let me go!”

Rupert grunts in exertion, struggling to keep his driver in check. “This is for your own good! Think of your diet!”

“That’s irrelevant!” Max practically snarls, pupils blown wide like an addict suffering from withdrawals. “Do you have any idea how long I waited to have real baked goods again?”

It’s a battle of wills and metabolism that quickly becomes a weekly sight. Charles can’t help but chuckle fondly as he watches Max and Rupert’s familiar tug-of-war happen like clockwork every Sunday.

As much as he’d love to intervene, he knows better than to come between Max and your heavenly baked creations. He’s just thrilled that this baking journey took such a delicious turn — both for your invigorated culinary passion and for the safety of everyone’s tastebuds.

Honestly, he’ll take the sight of a feverish Max drooling over freshly baked goods any day over having to choke down burnt muffins and brittle biscuits. This is the sweet upgrade everyone had been dreaming about.

The true recipe for happiness was sticking by each other’s side through all those halfbaked stumbles.

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[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Fingertips - OP81

Summary: Oscar's fingertips only have to brush her skin for her to find him stuck to her like a magnet.

No part 2 requests please

The soft feeling of Oscar's fingertips dancing on her skin, having slid under her t-shirt as he feels her shift to reach for her phone. He always tries to discourage her from being on her phone first thing, so feeling herself dragged back away from reaching distance of her phone, she laughs feeling his arms wrap around her tightly, pinning her own around her in doing so.

"Oscar...you're crushing me." Y/n whines through a laugh making him hum but really he's completely unbothered as he nuzzles into her neck.

Oscar isn't always the easiest man to wake up in the morning, he prefers to keep her close and holds her as closely as possible. Like she's a teddy bear, his comfort coming solely from her.

Eventually he's eased from his depth of sleep and loosens his hold on her just enough for her to roll over and face him properly.

"You're so pretty in the morning." Oscar smiles making her look at him, wrinkling her nose at the suggestion she could possibly look good right now. "You are. Don't insult my girlfriend by saying you're not."

"I am you're girlfriend, and I can say what I like about myself." Y/n smiles poking his ribs watching him smile before she begins to sit up and make a weak attempt at getting up from the bed. "Can I get up yet?"

"No."

"Ok, fine by me." Y/n laughs feeling his fingers drawing shapes on her skin though she frowns for a second. "Are you drawing hearts?"

His hand still very suddenly making her laugh before she looks at him with a grin.

-

Oscar's public image isn't usually the most affectionate man, sure people think he looks at Lando like he wears a halo. But really that's nothing compared to the way he looks at her.

Although half of the time when he knows she's about and he wants to find her, he looks very much like a lost puppy.

Today it's happened and be caught on camera both by media and by fans alike. Even by Lando at one point for the McLaren team account.

Oscar walks through the paddock having left the garage after a rushed debrief after quick qualifying thanks to him getting caught in traffic and taken out in Q1. For some reason he's itching to see her and when he finds her doing on the McLaren communal seats it only takes the lightest touch for her to sit up and let him slide onto the sofa before she lies back down.

"Why didn't you come to the garage?" Oscar mumbles making her frown lightly at him.

"You told me to watch from here, I only started to fall asleep because you had gone out. I was waiting for you." Y/n states earning hum feeling his fingers playing with strands of her hair. "It's one qualifying, it doesn't mean anything."

"Tell that to the fans and media who will rip into me."

"Hey. You own up to your mistakes, it's not like you're sitting here having a party about your Q1 exit. You're not happy." Y/n frowns then sitting up properly and shifting so her legs are tossed over his lap. "Don't beat yourself up before you've even seen what people are saying."

"Well, if you're not going to be harsh on me, one of us has to." Oscar smiles pulling her up entirely onto his lap as he seems to nuzzle his face into her neck, breathing in the perfume he thinks he's addicted to.

"Keep it PG, this is a public area." Lando jokes appearing with Zak as through walk into the shared space and y/n looks up with a smile while Oscar just remains hidden.

"Don't worry mate, everyone's all had bad qualis." Zak states making y/n shoot him a grateful smile as she rubs Oscar's back. "Get yourself home and just see that you're rested up for tomorrow."

"You heard the boss. We're free to go." Y/n smiles standing up and finding Oscar almost clinging to her, arms wrapping around her as he stands up matching her speed.

Even Lando and Zak seem shocked by Oscar's clinginess to his girlfriend. But she doesn't even worry about the looks getting Oscar to his drivers' room, grabbing his stuff and walking out, hands linked with each other's as they do so.

By the time they get to the hotel again, Oscar's all but climbing inside of her.

"Sad or just tired?" Y/n questions earning a tsk from the driver.

"Neither, I just love my girlfriend and I always want to be with her." Oscar grumbles making her laugh a little before she sighs and looks at him for a moment. "I don't know what's wrong with me...I feel like I always want you around even when I'm supposed to be working or doing something important where you can't be around."

"I'm not complaining." Y/n hums which earns her a sharp look up. "Oscar...you realise I feel the same. I hate being away from you. It sucks. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

"You mean it?" Oscar mumbles watching her smile.

"I'm pretty sure most girls would hack of a leg to hear a man say he thinks there's something wrong with them because they actually miss their girlfriend and want to be around her. Of course I mean it." Y/n tsks before sighing and running her hand through his hair. "I love you."

'I love you too."

-

Getting time off with Oscar, y/n is honestly so happy to just be involved in his time off and spending it how he seems to be eager about it.

"What are you wearing?" Oscar mumbles making her look at him.

It's freezing out in England right now. Spring time is a lie here and summer is definitely not on it's way.

"Why? We're not going anywhere." Y/n laughs only to find him looking at her as he pulls on her joggers, tucking the socks.

It's not that cold in his apartment but even just the atmosphere of England gives a chill.

Oscar doesn't answer verbally instead leaving her to watch him pull on a matching outfit earning a grin before she sighs and climbs onto him, laughing a little when he holds her legs keeping them around his waist.

"You are the cutest, neediness boyfriend ever. But I think you might've just made me decide there is not a single day in my life I'm going to be able to live without you acting like this from now on."

Oscar hums carrying her into the living room where he very much nestles into her. At some point while she's distracted by watching a very attention grabbing episode of Unsolved Mysteries, he manages to practically climb under his her hoodie, smushing his face into her tummy and just keeping his head tucked under the material.

He doesn't even fall asleep, just happy to be there. There is some amusement and suppressed laughs at the gurgling sound of her tummy under his head but honestly he's more focused on being able to hear her heart being.

It sounds stupid that it brings him a type of comfort that he's never felt before with anyone else.

"Hey, you good in there?" Y/n laughs lifting the neck hole to look down at him under the hoodie.

Oscar can't even hide his grin as he looks up at y/n then tucking his head back down to it's previous position.

"Yes, I think we should stay like this forever."

"That's fine with me. Even if you must be bored with your view blocked."

"No, I'm listening to it all. It's quite peaceful."

"Alright...whatever you say, my little koala." Y/n hums before she reaches a hand down to gently rub his back.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri x y/n #op81 imagine #op81 fic #op81 x reader #op81 #op81 fluff #op81 x y/n #op81 x you #op81 one shot #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 2024 #formula one #f1 one shot #f1 fluff #mclaren formula 1

[applejuicebegood]

Could you possibly write some more headcanons for how Jason Todd would slowly warm up to affection? I know you mentioned it briefly in a previous post if I'm remembering correctly but I just need more on him possibly not even notices how his behavior around reader begins to change!!!! (This is all prior to a relationship)

A/N: Mmmmm very sweet indeed, I love writing for this idiot sm. Thank you so much for requesting dude! I really hope that you like it!!

Masterlist

He first thought of it as impossible that someone as soft and as sweet as you could ever fit into his life of grit, violence and blood. He knew you as an opposite - a total contrast to the rough edges that fitted his body and world. But love is stubborn, and so were you.

The first major change you unintentionally enacted was the bettering of his sleeping habits. After your fifth date, you asked if he had been sleeping enough and if everything was ok. Your concern bubbling over at the sight of his lush green eyes now sunken in by a surrounding deep purple. His shoulders were slumped forward and his steps stumbled as you walked next to him down the library shelves. He perked up, the sweet trill of your voice drawing him out from his drowsy state. He was used to pulling all-nighters, his job practically required it. But it was the first time he felt guilty about it. He laughed it off, assuring you that he just couldn't sleep the other night.

Only when he clicked his apartment door close after walking you home, did he reflect on how little he actually slept in general. And never wanting to see that fearful empathy in your eyes again, he started sleeping at least more than an hour each day. It took time to fight back the creeping guilt of supposedly neglecting his duties in protecting Gotham but he would rather revel in that guilt then make you worry about him.

Once you two started officially dating, the second major change was his discovering of his love of your touch. The quickness of your shoulders bumping or you playfully hitting his arm in a fit of laughter was the purest form of electricity and warmth burrowing into his skin and settling into his bones. Your gentleness was so foreign to him. His skin throbbing in bruises or his muscles stinging in agony was familiar. The gentle brush of your warm hand over the side of his face, was not.

It took time for him to grow comfortable with your physical affection - but when he did, god, it was like discovering a limitless source of vitality, all wrapped up in the most flawlessly beautiful of persons. He longed for the closeness of your skin if he was gone for long missions. He would cry into the circle of your arms, all of his unexpressed gratitude and love for you boiling over in hiccuped sobs.

He leans into your touch like a cat leans into ear scratches. He'll nuzzle his cold cheeks into the softness of your palms as you brush his tangled black locks back up over his forehead. He squeezes your hand to silently signal when you both need to cross a street or just to remind him that your still by his side.

From you he learned how easy it was to smile at the world. You reintroduced him back into the reality of natural goodness existing around him. This translated back into his Red-Hooding, of now seeing a city worth protecting. Not just because your in it, but because he now knows of the beauty and the laughter it holds. Within the graffitied concrete walls and stretches of hidden art galleries and grassroots community centres. Of the small queer clubs and community bookstores both of you would frequent. He learned to fall in love with Gotham because he fell in love with you.

Before going public with your relationship to his family, the sudden shift in his stern behaviour was glaring. Jason was gentler and actually trying, although awkwardly, to deepen his connection to his little brothers and sisters. You said that he was going to be stuck with them anyway, so he should learn to see them as the family he always deserved to have. Tim and Duke tease him, egging him on to explain why he decided to show up with a Tupperware of hand-baked velvet cookies for Steph and Cass (no, he didn't let Tim and Duke have any). He could throw a pillow at them and chase them through the manor, telling them to shut their faces, but nothing could distract anybody from the fact that someone was bringing back a Jason both Dick and Bruce thought they had buried.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd #batfam #batfamily #red hood x fem!reader #red hood #dc robin #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #robin jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd comfort #jason peter todd #nightwing #red robin #reverse robins

[chastiefoul]

mischievous streak | neuvilette

just another day of you pining over neuvilette and poor wriothesley has to hear all about it. (dw neuvilette makes an appearance!!) fluff. crack. this one is so unserious. 0.7k words

“and when he said ‘oratrice oratrice mecanique d'analyse’ did you hear it, wrio?” you swooned, another day of fanning over the iudex of fountaine to your best friend,  wriothesley.

“did you?” the duke replied increduosly, as if not really getting the reason why that was the part you’re fawning over. “oh and when he declared ‘guilty’ verdict with such conviction and charisma to that person, i wished that was me.” you went on, the conversation was most definitely one-sided.

“...you wished that you’re in a court and getting a ‘guilty’ verdict?” he blinked, not knowing how to react when the things you’re saying gets more insane as each day passed. “well not really, but i am certainly guilty. guilty for wanting to climb him like a-“

wriothesley cut you off with an exaggerated cough.

“you finish that sentence and i’m sending you to the authorities.” you crossed your arm, “you’re the authorities.” he sighed, “yes and i’m not above putting cuffs on you and throw you to one of the cell.”

you gasped, “you wouldn’t. you’d put me in jail because of love?”

“insanity is what you are, (y/n). seriously, just talk to him.” he picked up his cup of tea wanting to take another sip. “and what do i say, that i’ve been in love with him since forever and that i’d give him a limb in exchange for a date?”

“sure. or, you could say you want to get to know him a little better, and ask him out for some lunch?” he said, his pen not stopping on checking the piling documents on his table. “but that’s like super obvious!” you retorted.

“and saying you’d give him one of your limb isn’t...?” he gave you a side-eye before getting back to his paper. “hmm, fair point.” you tapped your chin with your finger. “but he doesn’t seem like the type who’d just go out with anyone, no? i don’t think i’ve ever seen him with someone,” you claimed, thinking back to all the times you passed him accidentally by remembering his schedules.

“you’re right, but i don’t think that’s by his choice though. i think some people just got really intimidated by the idea of casually hanging out with the iudex of fountaine.” he shrugged. “what?! that’s not fair, even though he’s really kind hearted?”

the man in front of you gave you a mocking smile. “yeah, and you’d know hm? since you hang out with him so much,” he teased. “i don’t like you, you’re attacking me for no reason.” you grumbled. wriothesley just chuckled good naturedly before you continued.

“gosh but seriously, he should have someone by his side, don’t you think? someone’s who’s supportive, who will stand by him no matter what. you know, someone like me? i would treat him so good. i would make him food all day, draw him a bubble bath-“

a cough cut you off, you’d think it’s wriothesley and his unwillingness to hear your sincerity about your feelings towards neuvilette, but when you see that his expression was just as startled, you shut your lips.

both of you turned your heads to the end of the stairs and there he is.

neuvilette.

yes, the very one you’ve been crushing on since forever, oh and did i mention you just said you’d draw him a bubble bath?

the tip of his ears was visibly rosy, as he looked like he tried so hard not to look embarrassed or even phased. “i was let in by the guard, i didn’t realize there is another guest.”

you closed your eyes, counting slowly to three because perhaps it would be able to turn back time, even just a little. wriothesley was just covering his mouth, and you’d bet the other limb you have that he’s currently trying his harderst to hold back a laugh.

this is a situation. a situation you need to diffuse fast with your quick thinking.

you turned to wriothesley. “that’s why i said duke, not only you don’t need to reduce my sentence, please don’t let me out from this jail forever. i would endanger the civilians. thank you for your time duke wriothesley, i am now going to go back to my cell.”

hearing that was just the last straw for your best friend, he laughed out loud. doubling over and all that as he clutched his stomach. after a solid two minutes of him just laughing and you facepalmed yourself, wriothesley gained his composure.

“neuvilette, meet (y/n), the all-over supervisor of the fortress of meropide.”

you glared at him before giving the long-haired man your sweetest smile.

“hello, it’s nice to finally see you down here in the flesh, monsieur neuvilette.” you nodded at him in which he replied with a slight smile. “likewise and please, just call me neuvilette.”

neuvilette gave wriothesley a document as he immediately skimmed through it. “i see, well there’s nothing here that i can give an input on better than (y/n), this is more of their expertise.” your head turned so quick as if you heard a blaring alarm. “then, i would appreciate your insight on this matter if you have the time,” neuvilette said as looked at you and there’s no way you could say no.

“of course! perhaps over lunch? it’s the right time, no?” you bounced back, now feeling excited than nervous. he chuckled at the enthusiasm as he agreed. “yes, you’re right. but perhaps you should know i’m not ready yet for someone to draw me a bubble bath after just one lunch.” he put his fist over his mouth, covering his smile. so turned out the iudex of fountaine has a mischievous streak in his personality after all.

that’s nice. not for your already beyond embarrassed state, though.

“wriothesley, just arrest me right now please.”  

#genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette x you #neuvilette fluff #wriothesley fluff

[str4wbaeby]

𝓶𝓪 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓮 pt.1

ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳ ˣ ᵇᵒᵒᵏʷᵒʳᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

⤷ note : pt.2 | moodboard

his presence lingered in every corner of the bookstore, name spoken in reverent tones by both staff and patrons alike. and who he might be? the literary virtuoso, Ren Takahashi, who recently emerged as a new generation fiction writer, standing as a towering figure in the realm of literature. despite being a new name in the writing community, he was quick to rise to fame with the release of his latest masterpiece, which depicted the story of a yearning painter desperately in search of his muse; the story mainly revolving around the theme of lovesickness.

being an avid book lover, it was not unusual for you to keep up with the latest updates in the community, be it newly released books or the newly emerging writers. for you, Ren was not an unfamiliar name but you never really felt truly drawn to any of his writings, which often tended to revolve around a similar theme of infatuation and obsessive love.

as you made your way through the aisles, you couldn't help but notice the prominent display of his new novel on the central shelf, the vibrant red cover drawing you in. opening the glass panel, you carefully took the book out. as you started to read, your expression quickly shifted with eyebrows furrowing into concentration as your lips curled into a smile of intrigue. turning the pages with a gentle flutter, you seemed to absorb each word presented before you. completely enamoured by the book, you failed to notice the presence of an unknown figure, leaning against the opposite bookshelf, eyes longingly staring at your small figure

"so, do you like the book?", the figure softly spoke out, careful not to startle you while clearing his throat in the process.

needless to say, you were a bit startled at first but the gentleness of his voice oddly managed to calm you down almost instantly. you were never really much of a talker, thanks to your introverted nature and not wanting to make this interaction any awkward, you just found it easier to nod your head in response. your eyes were still fixated on the pages, only to look up at the figure once you were satisfied with thorough scanning of the book. infront of you stood the most gorgeous men you have ever laid your eyes upon in your 23 years of living. luscious long hair tressed a shadowy cascade against his pale porcelain skin, hazel eyes twinkling under the bright store lighting as his 6'2 figure stood towering over you, leaning against the wooden shelf in a relaxed stance.

a shade of pink subconsciously coated your cheeks, as you struggled to maintain eye contact with the handsome stranger.

"do you come here often ?", his velvety voice echoed in your ears, slowly luring you in like a siren's song. at the sudden loss of words, all you could do was nod at his question in agreement.

noticing your flustered state, he chuckled softly, silently taking in your adorable expression and soft features.

"say, would you like to have a cup of coffee with me at the nearby cafe? I've heard their pastries are quite popular here"

the proposal was unexpected. especially coming from someone like him; someone as beautiful as him. you were average to say the least, easily passing as just another face in the crowd. why would he want someone like you?

quickly snapping out of your trance, you politely denied his offer with a firm "no". but why? didn't you like him too? the dejected look in his eyes reminded you of a lost puppy. concealing the pain with a fake smile, he handed you his number in a piece of paper, telling you to call him if you ever wanted to talk or had a change of heart regarding your little coffee date. or he could just show up at the bookstore to meet you again? you wouldn't suspect anything, right? it'll just be another coincidence, after all! ♡

with a seemingly disinterested look, you took the paper out of his hand, only to catch a quick glimpse of something that caught your eyes.

"(555) 867-xxxx

- Ren Takahashi "

#yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere oc #male oc #yandere male x reader #yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere prompt #yandere insert #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere male x you #x gender neutral reader #x reader #x reader insert #gn reader #mochiii.writes

[maiiuelle]

˚❀˚

as we all know, jj is not a fan of cops. so, you can imagine how angry he’d be getting a call that you’re locked up.

it's sort of a game of telephone actually. you called kiara from the jail, pleading with her not to tell jj knowing how he'd react. but, with her parents grounding her from any more involvement in pogue business, she didn't really have a choice. so, she told pope, who immediately told jj.

luckily, your offense wasn't serious, you'd been having a bad day already and decided to go on an innocent bike ride. jj was kind enough to have slipped a joint into your backpack for an occasion like this, which you happily lit up to get your mind off of everything. your mistake was riding through the rich side of the island, some kook must've seen you and called the station to complain about who-knows-what, and the smell of weed sticking to your skin made it easier for shoupe to find you. you complied, letting him haul you in the back of his cruiser while he lectured you about drug possession and public intoxication. must be a slow day.

now you're sat in the lobby of the police station, hands bound together in metal cuffs, resting in your lap. you're barely high anymore, the light feeling in your head replaced by irritation. you hear jj before you see him, and the sound of his booming voice makes your heart sink.

"where d'ya even have her? huh, plumb?" you squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of his anger growing closer and closer.

"you need to relax, maybank." she hisses, rounding the corner before him and stopping at the sight of you. she crosses her arms, almost amused. "she's right here."

your blonde boyfriend stomps in after her, wide eyes searching the room before landing on you. he's disheveled, clearly having been in a rush to get here. you don't know what to do other than to stare back at him doe eyed. deputy plumb comes to your side and hoists you to stand with a hand on your arm, spinning you roughly so she can start to unlock the cuffs.

“alright—let’s make this quick.” shoupe’s voice draws everyone’s attention, a stack of papers in his hands that he offers to jj. “i’m doin’ her a favor, just a written warning.”

jj snatches the papers from him, superficially looking them over and then using them to point at the deputy. “you’re outta your mind, shoupe. i can’t believe—“

“i suggest—“ shoupe cuts him off, and jj’s jaw clenches. “—you kids get on home now. we’ve got some real work to do.”

deputy plumb lets you go, clipping the cuffs to her belt and nudging you toward jj. “and keep the dope on the cut.” you look back at her, keeping your mouth shut as you slink over to jj’s side.

“can count on kildare P.D., ain’t that right?” jj keeps his eyes on the officers, face red with anger as he adjusts his hat and starts walking toward the door. you stick close to him, feeling better attached to his side even if he’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “pickin’ on teenage girls — real tough, shoupe. pretty sure y’all got bigger fish to fry, maybe focus on that.”

on the way out of the station, he’s silent. he doesn’t look at you or say a word until you reach the twinkie, where john b is sitting patiently in the driver’s seat. you feel real bad now, realizing you brought everyone into this mess that you could have easily avoided. jj stops at the front of the van, and you follow suit, anxiously biting your lip.

“jayj, i really didn’t mean to cause a whole—“

“nobody’s upset, sugar. relax.” he takes a second to look you over, running his hands down your arms and scanning over your body. “didn’t rough you up in there, did they?”

you shake your head. “oh, no. i’m fine.”

“good.” he brushes your hair over your shoulder, letting his hand linger by your jaw to pull you into a kiss. “least y’got a little street cred now, huh?” a warm smile spreads across his face. you’re relieved, in the end really grateful that your boyfriend came to save the day.

˚❀˚

#my inbox is open! ‧₊˚. #jj maybank #obx #jj maybank x reader #jj #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank headcanon #jj headcanon #jj x reader #jj maybank gif

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

BNHA

something else to pretend by beeclaws

Bakugou apologies. Somehow, this makes things worse.

Retrograde by redrobin1989

Retrograde /ˈretrəˌɡrād/ adjective: directed or moving backwards noun: a degenerate person. verb: go back in position or time.

Seasoned pro heroes Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki are mentally transported back to their younger bodies due to a quirk. All they have to do is wait for the quirk to wear off for everything to return to normal. But sometimes the journey is worse than the destination.

DC

dick move by konan_konan

Part 1 of batfam twitter shenanigans

dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・52min guys what if dick grayson IS batman. that’s why he thought he was getting cancelled. it all makes sense. 784K Views | 142 Retweets | 52 Quote Tweets | 63.9K Likes

tason jodd ☑ @jsntdd・49min ↳ replying to @timdrakeceo asshole last week you said i was batman 461K Views | 88 Retweets | 16 Quote Tweets | 18.3K Likes

or: a civilian overhears a conversation between batman and nightwing. twitter does what it always does: makes things worse

the rules of playing make believe by hoebiwan

“We can’t squat in some dead guy’s mansion, Damian,” Tim says. Damian, in the midst of packing all their meager belongings into grocery sacks, ignores him.

“Why not?” Jason demands. “It’s not like he’s using it. Finders keepers, losers weepers.”

Or: Homeless!Reverse Robins squat in Wayne Manor.

Nine Worlds

with a winged heart by celebros

"Cliopher. Cliopher. Cliopher." I blink. It's Conju, standing with his hands on my shoulders, and I go to answer him and realize that I am already speaking, babbling, and Franzel is behind him, wringing his hands and looking near tears. I try to focus on what I'm saying, but it's like a stream, light and splashing past me, too quick to hold, not enough to catch, somehow, somehow – A few weeks before the start of the viceroyship ceremonies, Kip finds himself the unwitting recipient of a truth serum.

Original Work

That Frightful Nest Inside the Throat by whereveryouroam

Part 1 of That Dreadful Clockwork Beats Below

Living horses were in vogue among the high and mighty of the great families, but Peter’s new owners had sent proud motorhorses, clicking over in a blur of cogs and wheels, to draw the carriage. It was a very nice carriage - plush and cushioned. He couldn’t help but think this was sinister. Masters didn’t transport slaves in finery. At least, not slaves like him.

Peter’s spent years under the cruelty of masters who want the Monster inside him to become their weapon. He is quite sure that Lord and Lady Arken will be no different.

Percy Jackson

Through rose-colored glasses (the past is perfect) by Mo13

Part 1 of Rose-colored glasses verse

Luke/Percy were in a non-consensual 'relationship' when Percy was twelve. Percy deals with the aftermath, while constantly convincing himself that his relationship with Luke was fine (IT WAS NOT). Mostly cooperates with canon up to the end of Heroes of Olympus.

The Goblin Emperor

A Complete Education by bomberqueen17

Preparing for the Emperor's wedding, everyone has some things they need to learn about.

Emperor's Best Friend by imaginary_golux

Ino and Mireän decide their cousin Maia needs a special present for his twentieth birthday.

a burning coal of kindness by egelantier for Morgan (duckwhatduck)

When Maia is kidnapped by a faction hoping to halt the construction of Wisdom Bridge, Beshelar, gravely injured, is by his side. It might just be their undoing.

The Stairs Beneath the Heart by hermitknut

Part 1 of Keystone

The reign of Varenechibal IV is over; the reign of Edrehasivar VII has begun. The transition, however, is anything but smooth, as the Alcethmeret household navigates grief and worry as well as adapting to the new emperor.

A series of missing scenes and unseen moments centering around the Alcethmeret household over the course of the first few months of Maia's reign.

#sorry for the delay you guys!!! #i'm in the middle of moving house ooft #weekly fic round up #my posts #tge recs #dc recs #bnha recs #pjo recs #hote recs #misc recs #fic recs

[sunnytheopossum]

I’m in my yearly Marble Hornets hyperfixation era, so I’ve been really in the mood to draw a lot of fan art of these mentally disturbed lads!

I made this to be a quick reference sheet (outfits, colors, eye shapes and hair styles specifically) to use for future fan art, but I actually ended up really loving the look of it by itself too, so I’m sharing it here!

Also I know Brian doesn’t have blue eyes but COME ON, all these boys have brown hair AND brown eyes in canon except for Jay, I need SOME variety. Sue me.

#Also the blue contrasts nicely with the red of his mask and eye bags which is just good design #i will not apologize #my art #my post #digital art #art #marble hornets #jay merrick #jay marble hornets #alex kralie #alex marble hornets #tim wright #tim marble hornets #brian thomas #brian marble hornets #fanart

[manicpixiefelix]

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.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #felix catton x y/n #oliver quick x y/n #felix catton smut #oliver quick smut #head heart hand fic #manic writer #okay so i got a bit drunk before writing the last few paragraphs don't judge me

[moonchildstyles]

Pretty girl just living in Harry’s neck :( he is always warm, smells so good and she can hear his pulse :(( planting soft kisses :( cold hands wrapping around his neck pulling herself closer into him :( and he LOVESSSS it </3 the moment he sees her walking up to him dragging her feet he knows she’s curling up into him and nuzzling her face into his neck :( when he wakes her up in the morning and it’s too bright she just has to hide away whining and growling “too bright, no” placing kisses to the top of her head “it’s 9am baby, gotta wake up” hand going up and down her back soothing her grumpiness :( her ear pressed to his pulse letting it welcome her into a deep sleep like a lullaby </3 and he knows what she’s doing as she has told him before during a restless night “shh wanna listen” </////3 and it literally tugs at his heartstrings :(

And him thinking that 9am is getting late drives her a bit insane and he can’t help but love it! Her whining, clinging into him, begging him, kissing him! It’s all he ever wants to do with her! He’s been awake for hours he just misses her :( he needs to hear her voice, wants to know that she had a good night of sleep with no nightmares, and wants to ask what she wants for breakfast </3

“Please please just one more hour” nails scratching at his scalp, fingers running into his soft pretty curls :( “you aren’t as slick as you think, pretty girl” she wants him to be all relaxed so he agrees to her commands! She lifts herself a bit using her elbow eyes still closed as she places a kiss to his ear whispering “please just thirty minutes then” placing another to his jaw! He pulls the covers up her body “okay, but I won’t draw the blinds” she lets out a huff and before she could whine he squeezes her waist “29 minutes left” and that shuts her up really quick! And ofc h let’s her sleep for an hour but he tells her that it was only 30 minutes and how she’s his good pretty girl <///////3🧸

WAIIIIIIIT STOP THIS IS SO CUTE SHUT UP:(((((((( obsessed w her wanting to hear his heart shes so real:( just so gentle and soft and warm im so :(

#anon #ask #prosecco inspo #concept #🧸 anon

[grace-kami]

Quick P sketch this morning

I have to do this again. I know the last time I tried to take a break, I ended up making a whole bunch of good artworks but I think this time, I have to take a real break.

Without get too personal, I have stuff going on at home that's taking a toll on me mentally and I can't seem to keep myself focused. As much as I want to draw and get more stuff out for you guys, I just don't have the mental capacity or the patience for not just drawing but for anything right now.

I'm really sorry and I hope I don't lose follower for this but sometimes we all need to step back and rest.

Normally for me, all I need is a few days. When I get in these bumps in the road, I can usually deal with it and move on. I know I'm a tough lady. We will see how I feel in a few days ya.

And sometimes when I do come back to drawing after a break, I dish out some bangers. So hopefully that will happen this time. I still have a lot of plans for our puppet puppy that I want to get started on but I also don't want to mess it up because lack of focus. I think we all have been in this position before ya.

Just know that I'm still going to be here. I'll be reblogging everyones beautiful artwork and I definitely don't plan on leaving the LoP community anytime soon.

If anyone wants to chat, I'm always around!

So much love to you, my friends🫂❤️

#lies of p #lies of p game #lies of p fanart #liesofp #p lies of p

[chocokayke]

Here's Alkaloid for my Splatoon/Enstars AU! All weapons are referring to their Splatoon 3 kits, because that's what I'm most familiar with. I wanna give a shout out to @mdkm444 for making this fanart that inspired this whole AU in the first place. : )

More info on each character below the cut.⬇️

Hiiro

I'm giving him the highest honor I could bestow on a character... My main.

I think Splatana Deco fits him, and how he sees himself at the beginning. It's a very mobile weapon and aggro with a supportive kit. He can easily strife with opponents to draw fire from his teammates, while also setting up beacons, and setting of tentamissles to displace enemies.

The idea is that he mostly sees himself as his brother's "shield" at the beginning, and I feel like having a weapon that supports and takes fire suits that role.

As he grows and gets more comfortable with his place in Alkaloid, he would pick up more aggressive weapons. I just really like the idea of him with dualies. I think he has a lot of fun zipping around with dodge rolls. : )

He runs a lot of Quick Respawn abilities.

I think his backstory would stay mostly the same, actually.

Aira

He's 100% that guy who draws hearts in the enemy base.

He strikes me as the type of person who would play weapons that are meta without fully understanding WHY they're so good.

He started out playing vanilla Splash-o-matic, but he sucks so bad at Crab Tank. Mayoi thought something more mobile would suit Aira, so he recommended Inkbrush and Carbon Roller to him.

Hiyori wears his eye makeup the same way. This is a very important piece of Aira lore.

Mayoi

Mayoi has the biggest change to his backstory out of Alkaloid. He was originally an Octarian Soldier under DJ Octavio.

He was there for the Splat1 final boss and the Calamari Inkantation. He is NOT Agent 8, to be clear. He escaped after Marina, but before Agent 8. He wasn't in the subway. (But the idea of him in the subway is very fun, and that might be something to explore in an AU of this AU.)

He's a huge Squid Sisters fan.

He first escaped to Inkopolis, but it was too overwhelming for him, and he ended up traveling a lot before settling down in ES.

He plays a lot of weapons, and at knows a lot about the weapons he doesn't play. He's extremely skilled and knowledgeable. He's a fantastic coach, and everyone wants them to coach their teams! (Help him.)

Unfortunately, he is still Mayoi and still has severe anxiety! Despite how skilled he is, he's too scared to play alone and is pretty low ranked. That's why he got his status as an "underachiever."

Generally plays a lot of long ranged weapons to stay as far away from the action as he can. Snipewriter is his main, but E-Liter deserves an honorable mention.

Any closer ranged weapons he plays are more supportive than aggressive. This bad boy can pop out so many Inkstorms and Tacticoolers.

I probably should have added Hydra Splatling to his list instead of Heavy Edit tbh? But, eh, he can play both.

I think Snipewriter fits his main really well due to the fact that it has super long range, paints well, and has a supportive kit. At the time I'm writing this, it's also the best competitive weapon in Splatoon 3.

Tatsumi

His backstory is also similar to his canon one.

His leg got damaged and wouldn't repair itself when he respawned, so he had to get it removed it let it regrow naturally. Squids can do that, don't worry about it. : )

The guy who makes sure your base is 100% inked during Turf War.

Me and my friend both agreed it is extremely funny for Tatsumi to run around with his beginner weapon going like ^_^: so that's what he mains.

Then my other friend recommended me what they call "noob trap" weapons, which is mostly short ranged shooters (Sploosh and Aerospray) so I immediately added those to the list. I feel like they suit Tatsumi, and kind of mirror how inept he is with technology in canon.

Despite that, he's actually quite skilled! He does pretty well with short ranged shooters and has fun playing with them. They're his go to choice, but he's experienced in a lot of different weapon classes.

Anyway, you know how the Sunken Scrolls in Splatoon 3 introduced Squid Jesus--

#splatoon #enstars #ensemble stars #alkaloid #mayoi ayase #hiiro amagi #aira shiratori #tatsumi kazehaya #2024 art #au #splatstars au

[girlkisser13]

dating percy jackson would include

• if anyone is boyfriend coded it's PERCY!!!

• underwater kisses!! all the time!! being a son of poseidon has its benefits. the whole experience is just magical fr. it's like being in a whole different world, where nothing else matters except for the two of you. the sensation of your lips touching, your bodies intertwined, and the sound of your breathing mixing with the water is simply unforgettable. the way your hands hold onto each other, the way your eyes lock, and the way your heart beats as one, it's a feeling that can't be replicated anywhere else.

• for some reason, percy really likes to shower you with hugs. whether you're out in public or nestled comfortably in your own cabin, he's quick to wrap his arms around you and hold you close! you can feel his warmth radiating against your skin as he presses his body close to yours, his face nuzzled snugly in the crook of your neck. he just doesn't want to let you go, at least not yet. maybe it's because he feels safe when he's holding onto you, and he doesn't want that feeling to disappear so quickly. not that you mind, though.

• percy loovvees to hold your hand in public, like he literally can't get enough of it. no matter where you go, he would effortlessly slip his hand into yours, the coolness of his palm making contact with your own as you walk side by side through camp.

• i feel like percy's hands are pretty cool to the touch, so during the colder months he likes to hold your hand and tuck it in his pocket to shield you from the cold. like, he doesn't want to let go, but he also doesn't want you to freeze LMAOO.

• also, the way he immediately squeezes your hand to call your attention the second he spots something he knows you'd love. whether it's your favorite song playing in a store, or the sight of pretty flowers in full bloom, percy's just as excited as you are !!

• percy's kisses are varied. sometimes they're slow, sometimes they're quick or urgent, and a whole lot more. but each time, they're exhilarating. percy also has a habit of pulling and playing with your belt or waistband whenever you kiss, and it always catches you off guard, no matter how many times it happens. even when you're in the middle of doing something else, he'll grab you by the waistband and pull you in for a kiss. and when he's not tugging on it, he'll run his fingers around it, dragging his fingers around the fabric almost teasingly.

• percy lets you draw on his skateboard!! listen, i know he's only mentioned as a skater like twice in the book, but i don't care. he is a skater boy in my heart.

• his skateboard is absolutely LITTERED with doodles of your favorite bands, or any other designs that came to mind, as well as temporary stickers that are already starting to fade. but percy doesn't mind at all because it looks cool and you're happy! so that's all that matters to him. he loves looking down at the marks you left on his skateboard with a stupid smile, even if it means he gets hit by a wall because he wasn't paying attention.

• percy 100% teaches you how to skate too. the first chance he gets, he'll lead you onto the smooth, concrete surface of the skate park with the intent of teaching you!!

• he patiently guides you, holding your hands and rolling you along while walking beside you. he teaches you how to shift your weight, how to balance, and how to stop. and every time you stumble, he makes a huge show of catching you in his arms LMAO.

• whenever he's skating alone, he can't help but think of you. the way your hair sways in the wind, the sound of your laughter, and the warmth of your hand in his. he would often skate in circles, lost in thought, imagining you by his side. <33 (all the other skaters think he a simp, but he doesn't care.)

• when percy is in love, it becomes evident in his every action. he makes it a point to look for your face throughout the day, be it in moments of triumph or defeat. he only wants for you to witness him at his best, and no amount of applause or pats on the back from others can compare to the feeling of your touch; the gentle caress of your thumb across his cheek accompanied by words of praise, are what he craves the most. he wants your validation and approval, but struggles to express it, because he’s still just an awkward teen that is filled with doubts and insecurities, desperate to prove himself to you.

• but when he's in the water?? in his ZONE?? that's a different story. his confidence level SOARS. his water powers are in full force, and he's flipping around in the water trying to impress you like a little kid LMAOO.

• walks on the beach. every evening, before heading back to his cabin, percy would take a short walk on the beach, just to unwind. slowly, you'd begin to join him on those walks, and it would be a common occurrence for the campers to see you two strolling along the beach

• flowers every morning. percy would usually handpick a few flowers that he'd see in the morning, handing them to you with a little baby blue bow and a cheeky grin.

• amusement park dates. percy loves adrenaline, and he'd love to take you to amusement parks, the two of you trying to see how many rollercoasters you can go on before the day ends

• learning about the ocean. percy just knows a lot of things about the ocean, and whenever you two are watching a movie with the ocean, he's always commenting things that most people don't know it makes watching moana a mission).

• disney movie dates. especially when the two of you are babysitting estelle, you guys launch into a disney movie marathon, singing along to the songs at the top of your lungs, dancing together, and making estelle laugh.

• growing up as a child of one of the big three can certainly take its toll on anyone, even percy. after a long day of training and preventing new campers from capsizing the canoes while racing with the naiads, all he wants is to melt into your embrace.

• it's clear that being in your presence has a calming effect on him, reassuring him that everything is going to be okay. <33

• to percy, you're more than just his partner. the thought of living without you is unimaginable to him, and he refuses to even think about it. his love for you only grows with each passing day, and he swears that he couldn't love you more than already does, yet he knows that he will tomorrow.

#percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #pjo disney+ #pjo series #pjo x reader #hoo series #hoo x reader #hoo fandom #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader

[maskedmenmakemeferal]

New neighbor(Konigs version)

Konig watched you.

Every movement,every footstep,every breath.

His eyes watched you.

In his mind,you were his.

His cute,little,civilian neighbor.

He had retired from the military a few months back and had moved into a small neighborhood. You were the first one to introduce yourself and make him feel safe.

He towered over you,but you weren’t terrified of him.

Anytime you smile,his heart feels like it’s going to burst.

He knew then and there,you were his to protect.

So,whenever you invited him over for dinner to check up on him,he had to calm himself.

You open the door,wearing something very nice and pretty and he felt all of his blood rush to his cock.

“Hi Konig.” You let him in.

“Hello.” He nods,not wanting to say more due to his raging hard on.

“Dinners almost ready.” You smile.

He felt like he was going to break. That smile,that pretty face,the women who’s been in his dreams for months.

“C-can I go freshen up in your bathroom?” He asks,praying you can’t see his bulge.

“Of course.” You lead him to the bathroom.

He thanks you and steps inside,making quick work of his belt once he knows your back downstairs.

He bites his mask as he jerks off,keeping his moans to a minimum. His hand isn’t working though,knowing that you’re downstairs,so close. He accepts defeat,putting back on his pants and washing his hands.

He walks back downstairs to find two beautifully crafted plates. He sits at the table.

“Thank you.” He smiled under his mask.

“No problem,Konig.” You down and start eating.

The dinner was filled with a sweet conversation as you eat the amazing meal you created.

You smile at him,and he’s about to hit his breaking point.

“Konig?” You look at him expecting.

“Hm? Sorry.” Konig snaps out of the trance.

“Are you feeling okay?” You gently grab his hand.

He nods. “Yeah,I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“Okay,good.” You smile.

He snaps at that,his breath getting heavy and his face is flushed. He grabs your hands,looking at

you pleadingly. “Liebling,please.”

“Please what?” You say innocently.

“I need you.” And he did. A deep,carnal need that oozed into every crevice of his being.

“Where do you need me?” You get up.

“Let me fuck you,Liebling.” You’re a bit taken back at first,but take the challenge,straddling his lap. His hands go to your hips,squeezing the delectable bit of fat there.

You lift his mask,thankfully to see his face. He has a lewd look on his face,pupils blown in lust.

You kiss him,a hungry all consuming kiss like you were trying to take his very essence into you.

“Let’s get this dress off,yes?” He smiles and reaches for the zipper. He unzips it,letting the shiny material pool inbetween you two. He makes quick work of it,tossing it to the side.

You kiss him,unlatching your bra and tossing it to the side. His large hand slides inbetween your lush thighs,thick fingers touching you over your lace panties.

You let out a high pitched moan,hips rolling for more friction.

“Be a good girl,Liebling,and let me prep you.”

“You don’t have to,Ko.”

“No,Liebling,I really do.” He tares the fabric of the lace,throwing them with the rest of the clothes.

“Oh so wet.” He smiles,observing your pussy. His fingers slowly pump in and out of you,at first it was only one,but soon it was three. You moan,grinding into his hand.

“Hng,fuck!” You toss your head back as a unholy moan leaves you.

He smiles when you come onto his hand. “Good fucking girl,Liebling.” He unbuckles his belt and pulls down his pants,showing his bulge.

You reach out,raking your nails down his abs to his underwear and sliding it off.

“Oh my god,how is it so big?” You look up at him,wide eyed.

“You flatter me.” He smiles. “Now,take it like the good girl you are.” You sink onto him,moaning at the adjustment to his size.

“Holy fuck,your cunts so fucking tight,Liebling.”

He helps you ride him,his hands providing a comfortable coolness to your hips.

You lean forward and bite his shoulder,not enough to draw blood,but enough to sting.

He takes your face with his free hand and kisses you,sloppy and sensual.

You moan into the kiss as his dick stroked your clit,loving the feeling.

After a few amazing moments,the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum,your walls spasming. He comes too,his cum filling you too the brim.

He smiles hazily up at you.

“That was amazing,Libling.”

You’re too fucked out to formulate a response,so you nod and nuzzle into his chest.

“Mhm.” You murmer against his warm skin. “Amazing.”

(Old writing,so kinda shitty ,I’m sorry)

#konig x reader #konig x you #cod mw2 #shitpost #konig smut #konig x female reader

[celestiaras]

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @cryingaboutit1514 ˚₊ ⊹

ft. luca kaneshiro, hex haywire (separate) x gn! reader — luxiem/xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ reacting to you biting back after getting teased┊1k words

contains: smut!! dom reader & sub luca/hex┊teasing but no dialouge, brat-taming (& bratting for hex), biting, blowjobs for luca & handjobs for hex, edging/orgasm denial, overuse of the word “tease”

➤ author's note: i hope this piece is okay, it doesn’t quite live up to my standards (also i lost the ask, it’s at the bottom lmao)

he’s been at it for about half an hour now, not letting up because he doesn’t think that he’ll ever get bored of teasing you! how could you expect him not to bully you when you just have the cutest reactions? the way you pout and glare at him just reminds him of an adorable little angry kitten and it makes him want to poke fun at you even more, holding back the urge to reach out and pinch your cheeks after ruffling through your hair as if you were a child. there wasn’t anything that you could really do to get him to quit it as all attempts to tease him back were only met with more ridicule, adding to his beaming smile with sparkles like he wasn’t making you go gray early,

you didn’t want to just storm off in the middle of it since it was all in good fun, but you needed to shut him down with a win for you. you needed to do something completely unpredictable if you wanted to get the upper hand, something that would throw him so off-guard that he wouldn’t be able to make any more snarky remarks. once the light bulb went off in your mind, you were quick to act, pushing him into back into the couch mid-sentence and sinking your teeth into the flesh of his neck. it wasn’t deep enough to draw blood or bruise, but enough to sting a little as a warning. when he found himself underneath you with wide eyes at the unexpected action, you knew that you were finally the one in charge now.

━━━ .°˖✧ luca kaneshiro ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ he’s also prone to biting on occasion as a form of affection, but for you to turn the tables and do it back as a form of a threat had him shocked with a goofy ass smile on his face, feeling confused yet turned on by your sudden assertion of dominance. now it was your turn to tease him, telling him that he shouldn’t have dished out what he couldn’t take and how it was so easy to one-up the heir to a mafia boss. he can never handle getting teased back and always ends up doubling down, quickly becoming redder than a beetroot, and regretting his poor decisions of messing with you.

it’s so cute how quickly you have him chanting “i’m sorry” over and over again, his arm tossed over his face in a poor attempt to cover his scarlet face from your ministrations. he was practically begging you to let him cum, but he also doesn’t want it to stop because the warmth of your mouth and your tongue licking long strokes on him felt absolutely heavenly. perhaps he doesn’t regret bullying you too much if he gets punished like this, but maybe you’ll have mercy on him and let him off with a slap on the wrist?

when you notice his pleading puppy eyes, you lifted your head with a pop when you let go of his cock and he whined at the loss of stimulation. should you really let him off? he does seem genuinely apologetic, even starting to bribe you with gifts of any price since he could afford an entire country if you really wanted it. you hummed out loud as if you were contemplating even though you already knew your decision, just to torment him a little more and to make him sit in anticipation with his twitching cock out. he was far past embarrassment at this point, so when you just shook your head with a smile, he couldn’t help but straighten up in excitement now that he had your forgiveness.

━━━ .°˖✧ hex haywire ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ he’s a bit surprised it took you so long to bite back and to do it so literally too had him cracking a chuckle, only putting up his hands in a mock surrender when you asked him what his deal was. clearly, he was still trying to get a raise out of you even though you had him pinned down with your hands pressing down on his board chest. he already made it this far by pushing your buttons, why not push you over the edge to elicit another response out of you? it wouldn’t be any fun if you just left him hanging without any punishment, so maybe he could sneak in just one more playful jest to see what else you’ll do to him…

“you got anything else you wanna say to me?” you asked rhetorically, running your thumb over his leaking tip and smirking when all that came out was a groan. his mind was too fuzzy to think of a witty response right now, on the cusp of climax that you were denying him of because of his previous actions. it almost made him feel sorry since he wanted to cum so badly right now, but it was worth it to provoke you and have you put him in his place— especially when you trail your fingers along his rock-hard length that had his eyes rolling back. knowing you, you were going to edge him for as long as he teased you, but was he willing to suffer through the pleasurable pain for thirty minutes?

“oh please,” he scoffed, “i could keep this up for an entire hour if i wanted to.” it was a bold statement and you were going to test it to his limits, making him gasp at the feeling of your pace suddenly speeding up before abruptly stopping and almost tearing up at the feeling fading away leaving his throbbing cock just aching for release. he wasn’t one to show his wavering strength turning to weakness so quickly, so you knew that you were going to win this in the end despite his stubbornness. he can be a winner with the mind-blowing orgasm that comes after being teased for so long too, but only if he admits an apology and if you feel nice enough to give it to him.

request was [ hi queen (literally is shaking from head to toe) may I pretty please have hex and luca's (separately if that's ok) reaction to you getting flustered and "angry" when they tease you? And when u bite back (quite literally) how would they respond? (hahaha smutty smut) help the amount of times I had to reread what I wrote bc it didnt make sense and I'm just like omg how do I ask a mutual stuff again ]

#📜. her works #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #luca kaneshiro smut #hex haywire #hex haywire x reader #hex haywire smut #luxiem #luxiem x reader #luxiem smut #xsoleil #xsoleil x reader #xsoleil smut #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji smut

[aphidclan-clangen]

hey!! same anon that sent the novellas thing, and i’m here with dark forest concepts for all of them!! (and i will do this for the babs once they grow up!)

Pearlstar : 

mostly just shadows, BUT, his tail has a giant clam (not real) on the end!!! inside lies a delicate, shining pearl. he lures you in with it, you just wanna grab it. but by the time you get close you’re already under his spell. he and paradise are the king and queen of hell!!!

Firebeetle : 

a being made of flames and screams. he is a light far away. he draws you in, comforts you even, makes you feel welcome, at home, and than he burns you.

Blisswhistle :

she is pure light, like an angel, the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. she plays an act. but his true form is an amalgamation of just... everything... you could never make out what she is, and rainbow would drive you insane just by presenting her true form.

Goldshine : 

sort of a bat-like creature, he stays away in the shadows most times. he can’t really fly, but star glides with his huge wings, they are wyvern-like. he looks ragged, and scrappy, but in order to draw cats in, he uses his voice, instead of showing himself.

Stormwhisper : 

he is literally a storm. his form is constantly shifting and whirling, you can see bits of teeth, bones, limbs, stars, and scraps of metal floating around. he quite literally sucks you into his trap, you can’t stop looking, and he makes sure of it.

Sparkspeckle : 

again, a storm, but she is more of a lightning storm. she is made of swirling clouds, lighting, thundering sounds, and glowing lights. she would look like a blessing  in the dark of night, but she truly is chaos in cat shape.

Icesheep :

made of ice and water, you can only see him when looking into a body of water. he appears as a sort of ice deer (ever seen xerneas?), and whispers things to you, pretending to be a Starclan cat, and it usually works due to his elegance and beauty.

Shadebreak : 

similar to bliss, shadebreak would be a light, surrounded by shadows to make themself look more... holy????? they usually work with goldshine to trap victims together. they have this sort of halo, which really sells the deception point.

Lilacpaw/flame : 

flowers on fire. she is flowers on fire. she is completely wilted, but the fire never goes out. her tail is a giant lilac bush/tree, and it attracts victims with is sweet scent, and vibrant colors. when they least expect it, but lilacs will set ablaze, trapping them.

Gravel : 

a hollow entity made of quick sand. she let cats slip into her trap without even revealing themself. her true form is a huge desert personified (catified??) multiple cacti grow on her, and since most cat don’t know what it is, they’ll prick their paws on it, sealing their fate.

thats all :3

I love all of this! I love how you guys have caught on to my whole idea of dark forest cats being more,,,analog Eldritch horror-y, like monsters from a different realm entirely, twisted and terrible versions of who they were in life, and I love how that’s sparked so much creativity! I’m always happy to inspire other people, I think that’s really beautiful

(this is also really helpful because if I’m being honest I had ZERO clue on how I’d possibly give anyone else a dark forest form LOL)

Blisswhistle, Goldshine, and Icesheep are especially my favorites <3

#aphidasks #I have indeed heard of xerneas #beautiful and elegant icesheep is king #that’s canon now