#Sorry if this is a bit of a non-committal answer

[threewaysdivided]

How Different do you think Young Justice Season 3 would have been had Jay Olivia and Michael Chang returned?

[For context, we’re referring to this post where I broke down the major writing/directing credits for each episode of Young Justice Season 1 and found that former Teen Titans 2003 directors Jay Oliva and Michael Chang had handled over 75% of the episodes in Young Justice Season 1 before vanishing from the credits of all later entries, and this post where I summarise how those later entries actively destroyed the arcs, themes and narrative of the original season.]

TBH it’s kind of hard to tell.  I have a few ideas, but like I was saying in that first post, it can be unwise to pedestal one or two members of a creative team when there are so many factors that can impact the final quality of a work.

Here I think it’s important to mention what a director does.  In situations where the director and writer are separate roles, the job of the director is to adapt the script to a visual form – working with the writers/editors to make changes as needed.  Directors direct how scenes are constructed, presented, acted and “shot” – which affords them a great deal of subtle influence over the pacing, focus and framing of a story.  The visual language of film can do a lot to control what information the audience prioritises as important, and how they interpret/perceive it.  Unsurprisingly, when you have bad, fragmented or inconsistent directing, you end up with stories that lack direction.

While Chang and Oliva having such a presence in the direction of Season 1 definitely lent it some of their specific personal creative flavour, I also think a lot of the major benefit came purely from having two people (and likely others who formed part of the S1-specific creative team) who were experienced in working together and had direct input/oversight of more than 75% of the season from start to finish.  That kind of creative cohesion makes it easier to track and maintain the continuity and progression of a narrative.  Compare and contrast with Outsiders, where you have a rotating shift of three less-experienced directors and a huge revolving door of new writers, with no-one working on more than a single episode in a row, the same directors almost never getting paired with the same writer twice, and a general sense that the story was being produced episode-by-episode with very few people having a clear sense of what had come before or would follow after.

One of the challenges is that the declining quality from Season 2 onwards points to something being fundamentally broken in the creative process at DC Comics/ Time Warner productions.  Young Justice Season 3 was the straw that finally broke my trust in Detective Comics Comics but it came on the heels of things like the original Suicide Squad movie (see this Folding Ideas video for an excellent dissection of those production and editing issues) and the transparently marketing-driven disaster that was Batman vs Superman.  It feels rather like modern-day DC is producing the in-house equivalent of shovelware: underinvesting in the timing and budget that its creative teams need for proper writing, editing, revisions and post-production in favour of churning out superficially saleable high-profit-margin products to cash in on recognisable IP’s and existing fandom markets.  Faced with that kind of incentive structure and production-crunch it can be very hard for a single (or handful of) creative team members to make course-corrections.

That isn’t to say that good media can’t be produced under tight conditions, but doing so generally requires a well-thought-out creative plan for the project.  And unfortunately, that kind of plan is something Greg “I don’t write endings” Weisman is notoriously bad at both creating and sticking to.  This was one of the problems I ran into when doing my YJ: Invasion autopsy: while you can correct some of the surface level problems, the root issue lies in a core story that’s bad from base principles and fundamentally incompatible with what came before.  Again, this can be overcome if other production team members are given enough time and creative authority to review and revise that story-core, but that doesn’t seem to be the production environment S2+ was allowed.

With all that said, I think it’s safe to conclude that, under the circumstances, Young Justice: Outsiders was likely always doomed to be a mess.  The combination of a lack (or even discarding) of a clear show-bible to act as a guide, a lack of clear project-plan (or, at least, plan-communication) from the showrunners,and a lack of pre-/post-production time for other team members to figure out what story they were even telling is pretty much a guaranteed recipe for narrative failure.

However, assuming that a pair of Oliva/Chang-like directors had been on the revival team, with input into most of the episodes, I think we might have at least seen some improvements to execution:

Firstly, we may have seen better cohesion and focus.  In the multi-layered onion of bad storytelling decisions that is the later seasons, the outer layer that many people seem to have bounced off is that it’s hard to care about what’s happening.  YJS2+ are boring and badly paced on rewatch, and a not-insubstantial part of that is bloat.  There is a plague of random new characters, exposition and world-details that don’t meaningfully contribute to the narrative (and for the record, I should clarify that ‘narrative purpose’ is a lot more than just ‘plot advancement’ – the problem here is that these elements are actually purposeless to the point of being distracting), scenes and ‘jokes’ that overstay their welcome due to a lack of proper substance, and ‘twists’ that exist for expectation-subverting ‘shock bait’ rather than moving the story. 

At a surface level, the later seasons desperately needed someone to ask: both ‘what is the focal point?’ AND ‘what is the purpose of this moment/scene for the story?’ and actually make Greg Weisman give them a coherent answer beyond ‘just trust me, it’ll be totes smart when you (read: I) figure it out later’.  Like I’ve said before, there’s a lot of fat that could have been trimmed; shallow scenes that could have been reworked to serve characterisation and themeing, ��references’ that could have had their screen-time reduced to passing easter-eggs, and other wasted time that could have been better allocated to developing a core cast of ‘focus characters’ with an understandable dynamic to help anchor the broader character web in a relational status quo.  Considering what we saw of Season 1’s character-focus, and Oliva and Chang’s previous involvement in Teen Titans 2003 (which was also very good at prioritising, reinforcing and maintaining characterisation/ character dynamics) I think some improvement in story-focus, especially towards characterisation, could have been achievable.

The other gain we could have potentially seen is more sensitivity and tactfulness in the presentation of certain story beats/ characters.  For this I want to highlight framing:  whether something is respectful or offensive comes down less to the inclusion/exclusion of particular elements and more to the way in which those elements are presented to the audience – the priorities, assumptions and worldview revealed by the delivery.   

Let’s do a couple of case studies just to get our heads around the idea:

For Example One, we’re going to make the point by jumping straight in the deep end of sexual assault and fanservice in media feel free to scroll to the next paragraph if this is a no-fly topic for you.  Our contrasting studies will be The Millenium Trilogy (a noir series I’ve previous referenced in contrast to the YJ revival) and the shounen anime Sword Art Online, both of which contain assault and rape scenes.  Millenium’s depictions of assault keep the perspective on the victims, focusing on the pain/ powerlessness/ degradation/ anger they experience during and after the violation, and examining their reluctance/ aversion to reporting these crimes, while maintaining a respectful detachment towards describing the acts themselves.  In contrast SAO contains an infamous scene where an arc villain attempts to rape the female lead, while the camera fixates on the fanservice of her breasts quivering as he tears her shirt off (in addition to a concerning amount of other fanservice scenes where female characters are penetrated, groped or “peeped on” in ways that are clearly nonconsensual and unwelcome).  From this we can conclude that the issue isn’t inherently with sexual assault being present in a story – how it’s framed makes the difference.  The Millenium Trilogy respects the autonomy of its female characters, using assault scenes as an important narrative device to confront the audience with the violence of systemic sexism and condemn the cowardly entitlement it enables as part of its wider critique of misogyny; Sword Art Online degrades, objectifies and disregards the autonomy of its female characters by using narratively unnecessary sexual assault as a vehicle to ‘reward’ its target audience with fanservice.  What matters is how the subject is handled: is the sexual assault of women treated as a serious problem in need of criticism or as a guilty-pleasure ‘treat’ for boys to enjoy?

Moving to a gentler and more home-field example, let’s compare how pregnancy is handled in Young Justice Season 1 vs Outsiders.  It’s easy to overlook in the wake of the brick-to-the-face that was “you got a baby in there!” but Season 1 also included pregnancy as a plot-beat; Queen Mera announcing the news that she is “with child” during the episode Downtime.  However, there’s that difference in framing:  after it’s announced, Downtime quickly moves past the physicality of Mera’s pregnancy to focus on why it’s narratively important - because Mera and Orin are the royals of a hereditary monarchy and their child will be first in line to the throne of Atlantis.  Despite this being her only episode in Season 1, Downtime also gives Mera multiple characterising moments outside of child-bearing; introduced her first as a Queen and teacher/mentor to the students of the Conservatory, and later demonstrating her power as a battle-mage during the Manta-trooper attack – her pregnancy being almost a footnote outside its narrative-relevance.  By contrast, I think the reason that “baby in there” line from Amistad gets memed so heavily is because it highlights Outsiders unnecessary fixation on the physicality of female characters being pregnant, in addition to a disproportionate tendency to depict female characters as married, pregnant or mothering in the absence (or even at the cost) of narratively meaningful plot or character development – reducing these characters to little more than “pregnant sexy lamps” (as @mimeparadox so eloquently put it in their recent review of similar issues with the Gargoyles revival).  Again, the difference is execution: where Season 1 used pregnancy in a character-specific and narratively-relevant way, Outsiders not only assumes but enforces it as the expected path for female characters – sacrificing both characterisation and screentime for a subtler form of fanservice: one that reinforces and validates a specific worldview of gender (and which has been increasingly revealed to lurk beneath the surface of performative ‘feminists’ like Eric Schneiderman and Joss Whedon).

At this point, I think it’s worth noting that Jay Oliva and Michael Chang are both Asian-American men (i.e. less likely to be blinded by privilege a problem that Greg Weisman has always struggled with), that Chang himself was lead director on TT2003’s anti-bigotry episode Troq and that TT2003 on the whole is often praised for its respectful depiction of female characters (and also Victor’s cyborg status).

Given this, I think similar direction could have resulted in more respectful depictions of non-white and disabled characters.  As it exists, the revival at large (and Outsiders in particular) has a HUGE issue with unnecessary and disproportionate violence towards and villainization of characters-of-colour in a way that inadvertently reveals the bias of the creators; shock-value violence towards marginalised characters being treated as more acceptable and less needing of commentary because they clearly weren’t expected to be as relatable or worthy of empathy as the “main” characters.  Different direction could have seen some of the more needless violence removed in favoured of equally-shocking-but-more-narratively-purposeful elements, some of the narratively-justified violence reframed in a way that was more empathetic to the personalities and bodily autonomy of the victimised characters, or - given more time for revision - used to make a critique of in-story bigotry by presenting the disproportionate targeting of marginalised protagonists as being the product of systemically prejudiced antagonists (rather than casually-bigoted producers).

Similarly, I think better direction could helped respect female/femme characters more.  From Season 2 onwards Young Justice has an increasing problem with the male gaze in how it frames and poses women; Outsider’s borderline-fetishistic obsession with depicting late-term pregnancies again being a particularly egregious example.  Many of these scenes either didn’t need to be included (hence the meme-potential of wasting screen time on a toddler explaining how pregnancy works to a mature audience) or could have been made more narratively meaningful by prioritising specific characterisation over generic ring-fingers and pregnant bellies.   This male gaze issue was at its most insulting with Halo; even if different directors couldn’t change the incredibly disrespectful character-design decision to vacuum-seal a nonbinary, hijab-wearing minor inside a boob-socking, ass-grabbing, wasp-waisted super-suit, they could have worked to preserve Halo’s modesty and gender identity with posing and camera choices that minimised the attention drawn to Halo’s sexual features, and presented their body-language and posture in a less-feminising way.  

This likely wouldn’t have fixed the underlying biases baked into Outsiders’ plotlines but I think there was the potential to soften the execution to the point that they could have felt more like a “missed the mark” than the farcical offensiveness that we got.

That said, I don’t think anything could have truly saved this series.

As I said at the start, I think the thing that ultimately doomed Young Justice was the lack of a long-term story vision; the ego and overambition of showrunners trying to build a story that runs on teasing twists, mysteries and future-resolutions while also openly wanting it to go on forever.  Those two elements are fundamentally incompatible if you want a satisfying experience, and without a clear guiding plan you can’t expect the underlying creative team to successfully find a story’s identity during a rushed pre-production.  You can’t provide direction if you don’t know where you’re going.  It would be like trying to invent an entirely new plane and build it as it’s taking off: a crash is inevitable, the only question is the extent of the damage.

At best, I think we could have seen another Invasion-level non-story: a few isolated good character moments bogged down within a season that, while not overtly offensive, was still thematically confused, overstuffed with characters, driven by contrivance and insulting to the intelligence of anyone actually trying to follow the narrative.  A slow zombification, riding out a few extra seasons on plausible deniability, rather than Outsiders’ rapid crash-and-burn seasonal rot into an offensive cash-grab parody of itself.

And, in a way, I’m kind of glad that Oliva, Chang and the other Season-1-only creative team members didn’t come back for that.  Because, even if it would have resulted in a more palatable product, it would have come from forcing a group of marginalised creators to salvage a privileged dude’s mess.

I’ve spent far too many words over the last few years trying to unpick the layers of why Young Justice is such a narrative failure post Season 1 and now I feel like Benoir Blanc.  Because these problems are a glass onion and at their clear centre, Greg Weisman is an idiot.  He’s a demonstrable bigot, who had a publisher back away after he trashed their franchise with misogynistic queerphobia.  He’s a sex-obsessed loser who tried to launch a Not-Safe-For-Work production company writing Gargoyles Parody Porn while wearing an eye-patch and pretending to be a ‘fan collaborator’.  His writing reveals a consistently toxic attitude towards abuse, consent, boundaries and power dynamics.  Based on some of the creepier things he’s said/written, he could be potentially unsafe for certain fans to be around.  And even setting all that aside (and it’s a lot to set aside) he’s just obviously a hack: he claims things that are neither present in or even supported by the text, he promises future developments and fixes/explanations that he rarely if ever delivers, and he uses those holes as a springboard to pitch separate-purchase side-content that also seldom delivers, in a way that suggests he either has no idea what he’s talking about or is intentionally lying to grift his fans.

And, look, this problem is far from exclusive to Weisman: it certainly didn’t start with him, and it’s not even exclusive to the arts.  Across industries we are currently realising that we’ve let privileged guys who can talk a good game coast by on an assumption that they were qualified to hold their positions of influence, even as we held them to far lower standards of scrutiny than we would equivalent people of any other demographic.

Young Justice was never going to survive long-term (any more than the Gargoyles revival is) because the creative load was always resting on that rotten core.  I think we as a fandom were very lucky that Season 1 had both a sincere creative team and the production schedule needed to overcome it and give us something as good as they did.

I wish we could have seen that quality continue. But, at the end of it all, I’ll make peace with the disaster we got.  Because it was at least a somewhat honest reflection of its lead creator, rather than enabling him to keep failing upwards on the back of his colleagues' contributions.

So yeah. Better directors would probably have resulted in better surface-level polish... but you know what they say about polishing turds. No matter how much sugar they added, Outsiders couldn't be turned into a brownie. You'd still be being fed crap.

And frankly, whether it’s his characters, his audience or his co-creators, I’d rather not continue the pattern of letting Weisman shove the burden of dealing with and correcting for his bullshit onto less-privileged people.

[luveline]

hi bae, just wondering if you could write something like roommate!marauders and reader with anxiety where everytime one of them goes out she gets really worried that’s somethings gonna happen to them and waits up for them and just feels like a burden when she calls to make sure they’re alright and just general anxiety things and them being so sweet about it

love u

love u too♡

cw death related anxiety

“Hey, Remus?” you ask tentatively. 

Your housemate lays across the sofa with his dinner half eaten on the coffee table and a book tented on his chest. He's ignoring both in favour of the television, a rerun of Family Fortunes turning the sofa cushions and his pale skin a light blue. 

He drags his blue-tinged gaze from the subtitles to your frowning. “What's wrong?” he asks. You're surprised he heard you over the sound of Sirius’ stereo echoing down the stairs. 

“Where did James say he was going?” 

“I think he said he'd be at the gym for an hour now he's not in work. Want me to call him?” 

“Why would you call him?” you ask, instead of saying yes, please, like you want to. 

“You're worrying again.” 

They know how you are. It doesn't mean they have to understand —it isn't logical to think James is hurt because he hasn't been home today yet, and none of them are required to humour you in your worry, but they always do. 

You feel sick as he takes his phone from his pocket. You've convinced yourself that James is dead, that his car curled around a bend too quickly on the drive in the rain, or that something happened at the gym, or that he never made it there at all, had a fit in the car park outside of work. Even as you think it, you know it's implausible, unlikely, just a repetitive negative anxiety worming its way into your head, but you can't make it stop. 

James doesn't answer the first time, which doesn't help, and then when he does answer the second time you're waiting for bad news. Remus smiles as he talks. “Hello? Jamie?”

James doesn't need speak phone to be heard. “Remus! I'm at the gym, what's happening?”

Remus wrinkles his nose. “What's happening? Since when do you say that?”

“What's up?” James corrects. “I'm on my way out of the gym, can you talk? You can keep me company while I drive.” 

Remus holds out the phone to you. 

“Remus?” James asks into the room. You take the phone before he can hang up, and decide to be honest, but the words get stuck like toffee between your teeth. “Hello?” 

“Hey,” you say, sending Remus a grateful look. He moves over to make room on settee for you, and his arm wraps familiarly around your shoulders as you settle in. He turns his attention back to his show. 

“Oh my god hey, angel. Remus okay?” 

“I was making him ring you, sorry. I thought… you know what I'm like. It's getting late and you aren't home, and I know I don't have the right to pester you about where you are.”

“Yeah you do,” James says, his voice louder, like his mouth is very close to the microphone. “Course you do. I'd worry too if you weren't home yet.” 

“I do this all the time, though.”

Just last week he and Sirius were out late and you'd panicked that they'd both been hurt. You stayed up until almost one in the morning waiting for them to get home from a music shop in the city, each minute after eleven like a shot of ice water in your veins. Sirius jumped when he saw you waiting in the living room, but then he'd given you a hug and rubbed at your shoulders roughly. You didn't wait up for us, did you? 

“It's worse lately, yeah?” James asks. You hum non-committal, and Remus gives you a squeeze in typical Remus fashion. You hadn't even realised he was listening, but his support makes this easier. “You're worrying about us more.”

“Yeah,” you say. “I don't know why. And it sucks because I know it's making me a lot to deal with.” 

“I would one thousand percent prefer it if you rang me then sat there worrying. That would make me feel better. And Remus and Sirius feel the same way, okay? We could all stand to ring each other a bit more anyways.” 

You rub your nose into your hand. “Sorry,” you mumble. 

“There's no need to be. I love you, ‘n I just want you to be happy. If a phone call can make that happen then why shouldn't you do it? And it's not like they're a big imposition, I like talking to you. We all do.”

James is home from the gym what could only be ten minutes later, and he leans over the back of the settee to kiss your forehead chasely. “Here we are, all safe and well.” 

“You haven't seen Sirius yet,” Remus points out.

“I can bloody well hear him. What is he listening to? Is that U2?” James shakes his head in disgust. “I can see why you were so worried I wasn't coming home. Let me go put a stop to that immediately.” 

[mercif4l]

(𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝗲) 𝗯𝗲𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 — ksy

MDNI, this blog is for 18+ users only. blank blogs will be blocked.

pairing: afab!reader x kwon soonyoung

word count: 2.4k

summary: hoshi's second favorite place to be is between your thighs. no flight will take that away from him.

content warning: smut smut smut, boyfriend!hoshi, nudity, explicit sexual acts (dirty talk, oral: f. receiving, fingering, teasing), soonyoung is a brat lmfao

a/n: ty all for the love on the teaser it really means the world 😭 hoshi is a BITER argue with the wall. go listen to charli xcx's 'beg for you' ft vernon! thank u so much to @haologram, @beomcoups, @wonuwoe and @jenoslutie for helping me through the terrors of posting on tumblr for the first time ᥫ᭡

Soonyoung had laughed when you’d taught him about kink vocabulary. The first time you called him a ‘service top’, he’d conflated it with being a milkman or a post officer. He’d had a fit in the Don Quixote cleaning aisle about urban dictionary and spent the whole walk home collating the worst modern sex-terms. 

None of that changed the fact you were right (as always) and he was being over-dramatic (as always). 

Just like he is right now. 

Kissing you like its sleep for the exhausted; with desperation, total familiarity, and a warmth that makes everything a bit hazey. Where the thought of leaving any part of you untouched by his mouth makes him feel physically ill. But he’s on a time crunch, one you won’t let him wistfully ignore, and that means compromises must be made.

It’s shocking how each time he touches you, pinching this and soothing his tongue over that, it feels like the first time. Each kiss followed by a gasp and relieved groan. Is it how he takes his sweet time nibbling beneath your earlobe? Or grazing his nails over the curve of your spine? Or how he flushes pink every time you so much as pant for him? 

Whatever the answer, his reaction remains the same: total pride. Arrogance, really, at the fact he just can and he never has to ask.

In fairness, you’re not doing very well to tame him. Every moan he elicits presses like a gold star to the bottom of his belly, its outline warming the flesh til it burns: a reward for being so good that you can’t hold it in. 

Almost like butterflies, if they were on fire and could make him cum in his pants untouched.

You curl a lock of his hair between your fingers and nudge him over. Away from your chest, away from your fluttering ribcage, away away away, just anywhere but on you. 

Soonyoung whines, because of course he does, and fixates on kissing your palm as you mumble: “Gotta go, baby.” 

They sound like the last words he’ll ever hear from your Venusian lips (Drama.)

But he knows this look. This tone. The non-committal ‘no’ that you try your best to squeeze out. Like a false alarm; a reminder that he can only have so much fun before you run off to prove a point.

So, instead of stopping like you suggest, he brings his forehead up to yours and, with the weight of his entire body, presses you down into the pillows. 

“Wanna… wanna make you feel good. Said you’d let me.” 

God, he’s so whiny. It really would annoy you if it didn’t make your legs cross and your mouth salivate. 

“I know, but—“ All it takes to shut you up is a hump to your thigh, his slacks pulled tight as his bulge leaks onto you. Your eyes close at the wet feeling; he plays you for a fool every time you try to deny him. 

So, instead you finish your own sentence with a resigned “I know.” and decide to at least let him try. 

And he might have successfully hidden his shit-eating grin, were it not now pressed against your stomach. 

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying.” 

A giggle echoes out across the room and whether it’s his or yours, you’re both too excited to notice. Always a bit too distracted with the feeling of each other. “Sorry, sorry baby,” it’s a lie—he’s not sorry at all. 

It’s obvious in the way he bounces down the bed; the twinkle of his eyes as his middle and forefinger lace beneath the waistband of your stockings, gently tugging them down your leg. 

It’s even more obvious in the pleased grumble that follows them all the way down. 

Soonyoung has been scolded one too many times to repeat the same mistake of ripping them off. He knows how bratty you get when your belongings become collateral to his prone bone, how vengeful you can be. How long you’re happy to go without his touch and how painful it is to go without yours. 

His shoulders tense at the memory. The frustration enforced a stark change in behavior all within that one week of celibacy. 

“Always so… so gentle for—mmh, me…. good boy, so good baby,” when you’re like this, it’s the easiest rule to obey in the world. After all, positive reinforcement is the foremost currency for buying Kwon Soonyoung’s patience. 

A shiver stutters through your body, goosebumps forming against his chin as it lies snug against your thigh. 

“Cute.” 

“Shut up..” there’s no hiding the smile this time. It’s plain across his features as he bites his bottom lip.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Not a moment later and he’s back to nibbling at your flesh (just as an excuse to lick over it). Saliva draws a path up your thigh and you laugh over this obsession he’s developed: the obsession with having his tongue on you. 

It’s hard to forget his bashful admission that ‘tasting every part of you’ turned him on. How his pupils had blown so wide, bright red fingers covering his bright red nose, firm arms curled over his head to obscure your view of his equally bright red ears. 

The same fingers that fluttered at your hips, and the same fingers that sit an inch away from his second favorite place to lie: between your legs (the first being between your arms, as the small spoon, with his head resting on your tits.)

He lets a hot breath trail across your underwear before pressing his nose up against you with a sigh. His hands sneak behind your ass and hold onto you. Not pulling or pushing, just holding. Thrumming. Pressing. 

“You drumming something out down there?”

Your boyfriend nips back at you this time, with a “wouldn’t you like to know.” and his best attempt at a smirk.

“Loser.” it comes as a half-truth, half-joke, but he takes it as a challenge. Typical.

After a single snort, he urges your knees to spread wider with a gentle bite to one side. He practically slobbers his way up to your heat, only closing his soaked mouth when he makes a show of smelling you.

“Gross. Stop it—“ you find it near impossible to overpower him and clamp your legs close, even more irritated by his unbothered face as his toned and slick arms keep you spread. 

“Not gross. Smells good, baby, wanna smell like you…” the crass idea of him wanting to smell like your slick isn’t what shuts you up.

What stuns you to silence is his nose dragging back and forth, side to side, around and around, filling the air with your whimpers as you fuss against the headboard. 

You know that he knows he’s being mean. The layer of fabric between you is leaving so little to the imagination, your want seeping through it, and you just might let him rip them off this time, just to close that distance and finally fucking—

Your imaginary protest is forgotten the second he takes the hem of your underwear between his teeth, dragging them all the way off.

What a pretty mouth.

“Thank you.” you realize a beat too late that you’ve said that out loud. 

The shine of his bared teeth (and the wetness that had collected in your panties, now smothered across his chin) makes you roll your eyes.

You smile back, calling him a “brat.” 

And he was a total brat. And it was totally your fault. 

But there’s no time to enjoy the following silence when he’s so hard that he might pass out. Instead, he lays flat on his stomach and bends one knee, starting to rock against the mattress underneath you both. By the time he finishes making a mess of your skin (and himself), he’s hungry. 

And if he kisses like it’s sleep to the exhausted, then Soonyoung eats like a starved man. 

His own spit mixes with your wetness in one languid, indulgent lick, and suddenly, he’s everywhere. Fast, breathy laps at your clit, his tongue traveling in tight circles, vibrating as he grunts shamelessly on top of you. Your back curves inward as you attempt to muffle your own sighs. 

Desperately trying to hear him mumble away inside you. Try being the key word; its way too much way too quick for you to keep quiet. 

Soonyoung would call it something obnoxious: say it was world-ending, but all the attention and worship from his mouth and hands and the heat of his every breath on you might just justify his drama. 

His lithe fingers and their angel touch—the kind of sensation you’d only be blessed with in heaven. To experience it like this, all sweaty and red and alive, feels a bit like sin.

Feels even better knowing that he’s dry humping himself to a climax over it. 

Happy tears destroy your mascara as he savors you without pause or pity.

The room is warmed by his hopeless whispers of praise: ‘so pretty’, ‘so wet’, ‘thank you’, ‘god’, ‘needed this’ and ‘love you’. With his sweet, sweet moans, and the occasional squeak that means he’s definitely slowing himself down against the mattress to avoid coming before you.

Still, you can’t help but stare at him—even through your bleary eyes. If you weren’t lost in your own unintelligible whimpers, you might think to take a photo. 

The scene is debauched, lewd, and so fucking hot, and all you want is to savor it forever, to keep it on your person like a badge of honor.

His wild eyes flicking between you and your twitching legs, pupils blown so wide you can’t help but purr. The whimpering that catches in his wet throat and comes out obscenely loud anyway. How desperate he is to watch you feeling good, and how the look on your face as he soaks you in his tongue is priceless. 

Soonyoung lifts himself up briefly to spit on his fingers. With the string of saliva collecting on your throbbing pussy, he slides them through your entrance and beckons inward. A come here kind of gesture. The kind he knows will make you squeal and press your thighs hard against his cheeks. 

Your boyfriend knows your body better than his own. Every freckle on your skin, or every mole that appears where you can’t spot it, and seeks it out just so the knowledge is his and his alone; so it can’t be kept by anyone else (and after however many years, this secret is amongst the closest to his heart.)

“God, you’re so wet. so wet baby, so warm too, fuuuuck, so warm.. wanna, hmm gonna, gonna live between your legs. gonna, oh fuck—“ his garbles between your lips entertain you enough to smile. You watch closely when his hips stutter as he works himself up, drool gathering in the corner of his lips at the thought of making you cum like this. 

“So pretty this way… my pretty girl, feels good?” his mouth is salivating, throat mewling as he watches you rock your hips into him, driving against his face so deliciously, presenting yourself to him.

Of course, he takes it. It’s too generous a gift to refuse. 

He knows his favorite present is yet to come but it won’t take much more waiting, the tell tale signs of your orgasm already smothering your face.

The thought turns his eyes into those famous crescent moons and you try to rest your hands beside them, to show him an ounce of affection, but they end up yanking his hair back after one particularly loud slurp against your clit. 

All that sudden vibration catches you totally off guard. It’s messy and long and so desperate that you can’t help but shove his head a little further closer.

His fingers curl slower and slower against that tender spot inside you, so deliberate in caressing it each and every pass that you can’t help but start to shake. 

Your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that you’re almost scared it’s going to stop. Every breath he chases from you is labored and short and you think you might just die, when—

“Gonna come? please, baby, baby… c’mon, don’t make me beg for you.” he’s literally sobbing, begging you not to force a ‘please’ from him, ignorant of the fact that he’s already begged and pleased several times already. It’s no surprise he’s too pussydrunk to notice—he’s always this way. Fucked dumb with the joy of watching you get off.

The image makes your cunt clench around him that bit tighter, too excited and too overstimulated, you can’t help but come. Goosebumps prickle against his skin as your legs wrap tight around his head (and this maybe his other favorite part: holding his breath as you tremor above him.)

And then, they drop, your hips quivering and abdomen seizing as they try to handle your climax. Which might make him upset, if he weren’t busy coaxing you through it with long, wet, licks, one firm hand caressing your lower back as it convulses, the other speeding up as it furls and unfurls within you. Stringing it out just that bit more.

It’s more than enough for Soonyoung to finish, much more embarrassingly, in his pants against the duvet he’d so fervently been jerking over this whole time. 

He whimpers against your soaked cunt and the overstimulation makes you roll over, leaving him face up to your side, hand worming its way into yours.

“Fuck. If I miss my flight— fuck. you’re, ugh I can’t believe I let you— you’re so driving me to the airport.” your tone is directly contradicted by just how tight you squeeze his hand back.

He doesn’t say anything, trying real hard to hide the shit-eating grin on his face. Which only lasts as long as he can hold his laughter (about five seconds) and then he’s thrashing about as you shove him back and forth. 

“Asshole!” 

“Sorry, I’m sorry baby, I just—“ 

“God, you suck—“ 

He turns over at that, resting his cheek on your stomach and looking up at you through his eyelashes. 

“Yea, baby. Yes I do.” 

penned by rowan, still a result of this insane video

[daizymax]

a little pampering | lfl (m)

summary: your kind, attentive boyfriend helps you unwind after a long day with a massage and a little more.

pairing: felix x fem reader

genre: fluff, smut

word count: 5.6k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: established (but new) relationship; profanity; mentions of food; graphic sexual content; clit play & vaginal fingering; some breast & nipple play; a tiny bit of spit play & finger sucking; dirty talk; oral (m receiving); penetrative piv sex with condom use

author’s note: re-written, re-titled and re-uploaded from my old blog. hope you enjoy!

{ click here if you prefer to read on AO3 }

---

Technically he has good timing, but as you set your things down and kick off your shoes, you aren’t sure if you’re really in the mood to answer his call. Not after the day you’ve had. But it’s Felix, and the relationship is still new, so you answer anyway.

“Hey.”

“Uh oh, what’s wrong?”

Normally you don’t mind how observant he is; that’s one of the things you have come to admire about him. But you don’t want to unpack your hard day on him, so you feign ignorance.

“Hm? Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine,” you say, then promptly change the subject. “I just got home. How was your day?”

“It was alright,” Felix answers pleasantly. His smooth, deep voice is always soothing. Just a few words from him and you’re already feeling your mood lift a little. “I was just calling to see how your day was. When you didn’t answer my last text, I figured it turned into a rough one towards the end.”

You ignore his correct suspicion for the time being to quickly check your messages. There it is, the missed text from a few hours ago asking if the two of you could meet up for dinner tonight.

“Shit, I’m just now seeing it,” you say. “You’re right, work was rough and I was just crazy busy this afternoon, I’m sorry.”

“No worries! Does dinner sound alright, though? We can go anywhere you want.” When you make a noise somewhere between a ponderous hum and a non-committal grunt, Felix laughs knowingly. “Okay, that’s fine.”

His easy acceptance of your hesitation doesn’t make you feel better. If anything, it only makes you feel guilty.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, “I just don’t really feel up to going out tonight. I’m tired and my neck is killing me. I kind of just want to stand under a hot shower for, like, half an hour, then pass out in bed.”

“Ah, poor thing. Can I at least bring you dinner, if I promise not to overstay my welcome? I’d still love to see you tonight, even for just a little while?”

His offer is sweet, but you don’t exactly like the way he’s pressing to see you tonight. Even when worded as questions, even with his assurance that he won’t stay too long, it comes off as kind of pushy to you. But to be fair, Felix has been nothing but respectful and understanding and kind to you in the couple months you’ve been dating him. Is a well-intentioned offer really something to refuse? Or something worth getting into an argument over?

You blame your sour thoughts on your terrible day and decide you probably would feel a little better if you let him dote on you with a simple meal and some company, so you accept his offer on the condition that he bring enough food for himself as well.

---

Felix arrives at your door with two bags of food and a smile.

Even after his own long day of work, he looks fresh and pretty. His blond hair is parted, freckles on full display against his honey skin. He smells good, too. Something clean and floral wafts into your nostrils, even through the smell of the food.

“Hey you,” you say. “Thanks again for bringing dinner, you really didn’t have to.”

“Hey you,” he echoes, stepping inside when you allow him by. “It’s my pleasure, really. Thanks for letting me come over. I hope you don’t mind, I brought dessert, too. Nothing special, just some ice cream. If we don’t eat it tonight, you can just keep it and save it for another time.”

You thank him again for the thoughtful gesture, and he wastes no time helping you put dessert into the freezer before dispensing the rest of the food onto some plates.

By the time the two of you settle across the table from each other, you feel silly for your negative thoughts earlier, even if they were brief. Maybe one day you will decline his company, but right now, this feels exactly like what you need: a nice meal and your boyfriend’s comforting presence.

“This is really great, Felix.”

He beams. “Dig in, babe.”

You expect him to ask for the details of your stressful day, but he doesn’t bring it up. Instead, he talks of his own day, and you learn a few new tidbits of information about him as he talks — the way he likes his coffee (extremely sweet), the time of day he showers (in the mornings, though he thinks nights would be better actually), the amount of time it takes for him to commute to and from work (about 20 minutes each way). It’s odd how mundane things like that are always fascinating at the start of a relationship.

Partway through the conversation, you stretch your stiff neck, and Felix notices your discomfort. He lumps his mouthful of food into one cheek and asks, “So what did you do to your neck?”

“I don’t even know,” you mutter. “It’s been a few days now. I don’t know if I slept on it wrong or what.”

“Poor thing,” he tuts again. “You’re probably ready for that shower. I’m just about done here, I can go ahead and show myself out and leave you to your rest.”

“No, stay,” you blurt. “I mean, I do really want to shower, but maybe we can watch a movie or a show or something when I’m done, if you want?”

He looks a little surprised at your suggestion. “Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if you’re sure I won’t be overstaying my welcome? I really don’t mind if you want to kick me out now so you can get on with your evening. You don’t have to—”

You reach over the table to brush your fingertips over his knuckles, and he promptly shuts his mouth. “Felix, it’s okay. I want you to say, if you want to stay.”

He smiles and relaxes. “Alright, cool.”

After the table is cleared, you insist he make himself comfortable in the living room and find something for the two of you to watch when you return.

The pressure of the hot water and the encapsulating steam is everything you’ve been dreaming of all afternoon. And even though you have lovely company waiting, you decide to take your time and savor the water pelting your aching muscles until it turns lukewarm and you drag yourself back out to dry off and put on some comfortable clothes.

Felix certainly looks comfortable perched on your couch. He smiles brightly again when he sees you. “Feeling better, sweetheart?”

You stretch your neck experimentally. “Physically? Not really. Mentally? So much better.”

“Well that’s something, at least.” He fluffs open the blanket on his lap and says, “Come here.”

The scene is too tempting to resist. You cozy up beside him and wrap your arms around his middle as he does the same with you.

Felix sighs, then you hear him inhale softly. “You smell good.”

“So do you,” you say, sniffing his sleeve.

“Thanks.” He shifts one arm to reach for the remote on the table beside him. “Is Sci-Fi okay?”

You nod and lay your cheek against his shoulder. “Sounds good.”

“Cool.”

Half an hour into the show, your neck twinges in protest over your otherwise comfortable position, and you groan quietly as you pull yourself up to sit up straight. You’d been so content to cuddle with your warm, pretty boyfriend.

Felix pauses the show and looks over at you. “You okay?”

Before you can answer him, you bump your fingers into his hand when he reaches for the back of your neck first. His fingers are soft, and you can’t help but sigh at the tender pressure he puts on the sore tendons.

“You do feel tight. Tense,” he says, gazing at your skin in concern while he rubs gentle little circles into it with his thumb. “I might be able to help a little more than the shower did, if you want.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “You do massages?”

He shrugs. “I’ve been told once or twice that I’m decent at it. Think it’s worth a shot?”

You shrug back. “Yeah, sure, why not. Thanks, baby.”

Once you’ve situated yourself so that your back is facing him, Felix places his hand at the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Right here, isn’t it? Down into your shoulder, too,” he says, measuring the damage with delicate prods of his fingertips.

“Y-yeah,” you mutter, then clear your throat. “Yeah, like all along there.”

With that confirmation, he takes a firmer grasp of your knotted muscles to try and smooth them out. You hiss at the sensation, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Felix hums knowingly. “Sorry. Try to relax, but tell me if it hurts too much.”

He takes hold of your opposite shoulder just to steady you as he works the pained one. He rolls his fingers along the column of your neck, pressing his thumb at the base of your skull with a calculated pressure, then pinches the muscle of your shoulder.

“Feel okay?” he checks when you let out an indecipherable sound.

“It does hurt a bit,” you admit, “but it feels good, too.”

“Good.”

He repeats his motions over and over until he’s built up a nice rhythm of gentle squeezes up and down your neck and firmer, longer squeezes along your shoulder. You start to feel weightless, boneless, and you lean into his chest at the lulling ministrations.

At one point he sweetly kisses the side of your head without pausing his work, and it occurs to you then that you haven’t kissed him in days.

To remedy that, you start by turning your head towards him. Felix smiles when he meets your eyes, and you lean closer to kiss his lips. He doesn’t have time to react outside of a tiny, surprised grunt before you’re pulling away with a pleased grin.

He grins back wider. “Another,” he says, puckering his plump lips into a cute, inviting pout.

You giggle and oblige, this time holding the position longer. He kisses you back with the smallest movement of his jaw. Greedily, you decide it isn’t enough, so you reach to hold the back of his head and part your lips further to coax him into doing the same.

A sigh through his nose breaks across your cheek at the same time the tip of his tongue dips between your lips. You meet it softly, deepening the motion by tilting your head even more so there can be no gap between you.

The quiet sounds of your lips breaking and reconnecting fills your ears soothingly. His fingers have stopped massaging you in favor of simply holding you close to him, but you don’t mind. In fact, you’re already thinking of a better place for him to put them right now.

When you start to guide his hand down to your chest, Felix whispers your name against your lips. He doesn’t elaborate, and you’re not sure what he thinks he’s trying to say, but you don’t comment back.

Instead, you cup your hand over his and squeeze so he’ll take the hint. He doesn’t say anything more, just fondles your breast as requested by your body language. You arch into his touch and moan into his mouth, partly for sexy effect to keep him going, but mostly because it’s exciting to have him touch you like this for the first time.

Your moan encourages him, just as you suspected it might, and he adjusts his hold on your breast to run his thumb across the nipple starting to poke through your thin shirt. He doesn’t mention the lack of a bra, but you can tell he finds the easy access exciting by the way he hums again. He switches to your other breast to pay it some equal attention, rolling your stiff nipple between his thumb and forefinger gingerly, then pinching it just to hear you react with a light gasp.

“I’m really glad you let me come over tonight, Y/N,” Felix takes the time to mention, as though this makeout and groping session is the highlight of his whole day. The thought makes you want to take things even further.

“Me too.” You twist your torso to face him even more, and his hand slips from your breast to your lap. “Felix? I want you, baby.”

He licks his already wet lips, dark eyes shimmering as he glances between each of yours. “You mean… have sex? Right now?”

You nod silently, and there is a split second of hesitation on Felix’s part where you can almost see the gears turning in his head before he swears under his breath and surges forward into another kiss, feverish with new intent this time.

He returns his hand to your clothed chest without guidance this time, but you think of something even better, so you bring his hand up through the bottom of your shirt instead. You’re sure your own body temperature is rising with your desire, but his palm is nearly searing on your bare skin.

He starts to lose focus on kissing while he’s feeling you up, and so do you. Every roll and tweak and squeeze sends a pulse of arousal between your legs. It gets to the point that you start rubbing your thighs together needily, and Felix — being the kind, thoughtful, observant person he is — takes notice.

“Fuck, babe,” he swears. His hand smooths down your warm stomach to the band of your leggings and stops there. “Getting kind of horny?”

You giggle because he sounds kind of precious saying it aloud. It’s already been established that you want to have sex with him — of course you’re horny.

“More like a lot,” you say, nipping his bottom lip with your teeth.

Felix smirks deviously. “Hm. I see. Let me help you with that, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t push his fingers into your pants right away. Instead, he cups your pussy over your clothing with a confidence that both surprises and delights you. Then he starts to drag his fingers up and down, back and forth. Your toes curl and loosen depending on the pressure of his moving fingers and how often he brushes across your swelling clit. You’re barely kissing him at all at this point; more like hovering right against his lips, which are still smirking ever so slightly.

“Feel good?” he murmurs.

“Y-yeah.” You spread your legs a little wider, and Felix uses the extra space to grind the heel of his palm over your clit now. “Oh fuck,” you gasp over the new, rougher sensation.

Unlike with the massage he was giving you, he does not build up a steady, diligent rhythm of repetitive motions. He alternates without pattern between the grinding of his palm and the tickling of his fingers along your covered slit. It feels unbelievably, surprisingly good, but you’re getting frustrated by both the teasing and the barriers separating your burning skin from his.

“Felix,” you whimper. “I need more, please...”

“I know, I’ve got you.” He finally dives his hand into your pants, but he still only touches you over your underwear. “Mm, this does feel good, doesn’t it?” he says, alluding to how damp and sticky you’ve become. He traps your swollen clit between his index and middle finger and gives it a vibrating shake, and your thighs automatically clamp together on his hand, which makes him chuckle. “You still seem tense, Y/N. Relax for me. I’m taking care of you. Gonna make you come just like this.”

The whine you let out is pitiful even to your own ears. How easily he’s turned you to putty in his capable hands.

He wraps one arm across your stomach while the other flexes beneath the blanket at your crotch. You can’t see anything he’s doing down there, but you can sure as hell feel it all.

He keeps two fingers focused on your clit with tight, firm circles and increases his pace. Your soon-to-be-ruined panties not only add to the friction he is creating but also keep his fingers from slipping around too wildly. The concentrated pleasure races through your veins as fast as he can rub at the stiff, sensitive bundle of nerves.

The edge he’s been dragging you toward looms— “Right there! F-Felix… Please, j-just like that, please…”

“You don’t have to beg, sweetheart. Just let go,” he says. His voice is pitched lower than you’ve ever heard it, which very well could be what launches you straight into your body-tingling climax.

You gasp when it hits and clutch his forearm tightly — not to stop him, just to let him know, as if he couldn’t already tell you’re coming from the way you’re stuttering mindless expletives and desperately humping against his hand.

Felix almost moves his fingers away too soon, but you whimper and hold him in place for a little while longer to wring that last bit of ecstasy out. He coos something apologetic that you can’t quite make out through the static in your ears and continues drawing dwindling circles into your clit.

After a few more, he hooks his middle finger through the side of your panties and slowly glides it through your bare folds for the first time, from the bottom of your soaked opening, up between your puffy lips, all the way to your clit still pulsing at the top. You twitch weakly at the onset of sensitivity, but he doesn’t linger or torment you with overstimulation; his finger is gone almost as quickly as it came.

You slump against him, and Felix presses a sweet kiss to the first part of you he can reach, which is your sweaty temple.

“You’re amazing, Y/N. Feeling alright?”

In the midst of calming down and catching your breath, you have to laugh at his compliment when he was the one who did all the work.

“Yeah, I feel great. That was so good.”

“Good. There’s more orgasms where that came from, if you’re up for it.” He plants another quick peck on the crown of your head and gives your pussy one last pat through your panties with a flat, open palm before finally withdrawing from the cramped, humid space of your pants.

You turn to look at him over your shoulder again and give his lips a quick kiss. “I think it’s your turn for some pampering now.”

Felix doesn’t protest, only shifts with you as you transition from sitting between his legs on the couch to kneeling between his legs on the floor.

“Is this okay?” you ask, rubbing one of his knees.

Your pretty boyfriend nods. “Yeah, definitely.”

You start to run your hand up his thigh towards the enticing bulge between his legs, but he puts a hand over yours to stop you. You give him a concerned look because you thought he was good with this; he just said so.

“Listen, I’m not, like… impressive, okay?” he says.

Oh. That’s what he’s worried about? The size of his dick? The thought of him being self-conscious about it saddens you, honestly.

You give his thigh a squeeze. It feels firm and warm to your touch. “I’m not the kind of person to rate your dick based on size, baby. I promise you.”

Felix smiles shyly, face flushed pink. “I know, I know. I know it’s about how I use it. I guess I just wanted to, I don’t know, warn you? Not warn you but, like, prepare you, or something?”

He’s nervous, which in and of itself is completely understandable. This is the first time you’ll be seeing his dick. He wants to make a good first impression, and his size is one of the first things you’ll notice. You don’t want him to worry about it, though, so you go back to reaching for the zipper on his pants, and he lets go of your hand.

“Trust me, I’m more than prepared to suck you off, baby,” you say with a grin.

“What about your neck?” he asks.

“I’ll be alright.” A little soreness in your neck is not going to stop you from doing this. No way.

Felix lets out a breathy laugh at your determination and lifts his hips to help you get his pants down. His dick twitches beneath his boxers when you reach for them next.

As soon as you remove them, you think you can see what he was talking about. There are certainly longer and thicker cocks out there, and maybe he is slightly smaller than what could be considered ‘average,’ but by god, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen a prettier cock in your life. It’s rock solid, wrapped in a plump vein, and the tip is blushing a darker shade of pink than his face. You’re already more than pleased with it.

“Baby, your dick is perfect,” you say, reaching for it. He’ll probably think you’re exaggerating for the sake of his confidence, so you elaborate, “Perfect for me to swallow whole, and more than enough to fill me up. It’ll feel amazing to have you fuck me hard from behind, or with my legs on your shoulders in missionary, you know? You’d hit me just deep enough to hurt a little bit but not too much. You even fit perfectly in my hand. See?”

You swear you feel his cock pulse harder in your hold. The skin is so warm and smooth, silky yet stiff. You cannot wait to get your mouth on it, or have him stuff it in your pussy.

Felix breathes a short laugh; he sounds a little winded all of a sudden. “Fuck, I can’t wait to do all of that with you,” he says. His head falls back against the couch, and you’re glad to see him relaxing.

You nod. “Me either, baby. Can I start by swallowing you whole?”

Another twitch of his cock, which is clearly in agreement of its own, but you wait for his words.

“Yes, please,” he says, so politely.

You scoot a little closer on your knees, then bend forward to take his leaking tip into your mouth. Felix gasps as soon as you seal your lips around him, and he practically shivers when you lick at his slit. You love how sensitive and responsive he is. You can already see yourself worshiping his cock for hours. Maybe not tonight, but hopefully some time in the very near future.

It’s fun hearing his voice go from high-pitched and whiny to deep and almost tortured sounding, depending on whether you’re tracing the vein on his cock with your tongue or hollowing your cheeks around the flared mushroom head. He fits in your mouth so perfectly, just as you told him he would. His cock stretches your lips, but not enough to make your jaw sore; his length extends into your throat, but it’s not terribly troublesome to deep-throat him. It seems he especially loves breaching your throat and feeling the tight muscle flexing around his tip. Those sounds — the desperate little gasps — are quickly becoming your favorite.

Just when you’ve really gotten into a rhythm, however, he hisses “Wait wait wait,” and reaches out for your shoulder to gently ease your face away from his cock. It drops with a wet little plop against his lower stomach, glistening in your spit now.

“I’m gonna come if you keep going like that,” he says to your confused look, chuckling a little. “You’re actually about to suck my soul out.”

You laugh and rub his thighs. “I’m just taking care of you like you did for me.”

“I think I need to eat you out for ten minutes to even the score now.”

“There’s no score,” you say, still laughing, “but if you’d rather move on to something else, I have condoms in the bedroom.”

Felix sits up. “Lead the way.”

He leaves his pants and underwear behind on the living room floor, and you take his hand to bring him into your bedroom.

He’s been in here a couple times before already, but he’s never taken you by the hips and pulled you into a steamy kiss in here before. He’s never watched you strip your clothes for him in here before, or stripped his clothes for you in here before.

He’s never lowered you onto your mattress and followed on top of you before.

The feeling of his weight on yours is nice. His skin is so smooth and muscular; he’s been hiding those abs under his baggy clothes all this time. You kind of want to take more time to admire his body, but you’re not about to interrupt the feeling of his lips on your neck and throat; he’s found a sensitive spot, and it’s winding you up tighter to finally be fucked.

“Where’s the condoms, sweetheart?” Felix asks, as though he can hear your screaming thoughts. He scatters kisses along the tops of your breasts.

“In here,” you say, reaching for the drawer on your nightstand.

Felix reaches too, fingers bumping into yours as he finds one of the packets. He may have been nervous and self-conscious about his dick size, but he’s confident when he tears open the foil and tugs the latex over his erection. As soon as he’s ready to go, he asks, “So, did you want me to fuck you hard from behind, or missionary with your legs over my shoulders?”

God, he’s perfect.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” you say.

He smirks again. It looks extra devious on his angelic face. “Alright, well, at the risk of being cheesy, I think I want to see your face when you come this time, so legs up it is.”

You giggle. “So cheesy, baby. But that’s fine with me.”

Felix helps you into position, practically pulling your legs up for you to get the backs of your knees hooked over his shoulders. The tip of his covered cock bumps against your inner thigh, then the entrance of your pussy. You can feel how wet you still are — and how hard he still is — just from that minimal contact. He brings a hand down to better line himself up, and you can’t help but whimper when he presses a little harder on your hole. So close, but still not close enough.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Ready,” you say.

He pushes in, slowly but all in one go. The angle is perfect for him to hit just the right spot inside your walls, just like you knew he would.

Felix’s eyes roll back in his head in pure bliss, and he hugs your thighs to help balance you and to brace himself against all this pleasure.

“Oh my god,” he whispers. He leans a little more of his weight forward, unintentionally testing the flexibility in your legs. His core strength is impressive. “Is this okay, babe? You good?”

You bring your hands up to cup his face and purposely clench your walls tighter around him. “I’m fantastic. You can move whenever you want.”

He does just that, retracting the tip of his cock to the edge of your entrance before sliding in deep again, nice and slow. His movements are even and firm, tip to base, over and over again as he acquaints your pussy with his cock and vice versa.

“Oh f-fuck,” you breathe. “That’s so f-fucking good, Felix, so fucking deep.”

He groans and drops his hands from your thighs to plant his fists in the mattress instead. He fucks you faster, harder, battering that sweet spot inside you and driving you into the mattress. You can feel his balls slapping against your ass with every powerful push, and you can feel that your arousal has already leaked onto them, too. There’s going to be a hell of a wet spot on your sheets later, but you couldn’t care less.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Felix chants under his breath in time with his thrusts. His eyes have been closed since he started moving faster, but he opens them again now. You meet his gaze and bite your lip, and he leans in to kiss you, pulling your bottom lip between his own teeth. His lips graze across your cheek and down your neck.

“You feel amazing inside me,” you tell him, fingers twisting into his hair at the back of his head.

Felix brings his hands around to your backside to take your ass in his hands and hold you even closer to him. “Got me so fucking close already, Y/N,” he grunts into your mouth.

“Then come for me.”

He shakes his head; long, blond bangs sweeping the freckles on his cheeks. His thrusts stutter before evening out again. “Not before you. Will you touch yourself for me?”

You smile and nod, bringing two fingers up between your lips and accidentally bumping Felix’s lips in the process. He surprises you by catching them in his mouth immediately after you’ve wet them with your own.

“Jesus, baby,” you whisper, heavy gaze on the way he sucks your fingers so well, if only for a quick second or two.

His brown eyes are smoldering, burning into yours, and you nearly forget what he just asked you. He watches you bring your wet fingers down between your rocking bodies to finger your clit. Your walls instantly clench tighter around his cock, and he groans straight into your ear.

“So fucking t-tight, babe. Your pussy fits s-so perfectly around me, fuck.”

Felix takes your free hand and presses it into the mattress beside your head, leaning more of his weight into you again. Your legs are aching from maintaining this position, but it’s worth it to have him hitting your g-spot over and over again at this angle, and your orgasm is so fucking close now.

It’s clear Felix is close, too. His forehead and upper lip are dotted with sweat, his hips are getting more and more erratic, his breath is stuttering. He rakes his eyes from yours, down to your jiggling breasts, down to where your fingers are playing with your clit, and repeat.

“So gorgeous,” he whispers with a sweet peck to your lips. Far too sweet for the way he’s plowing you up the mattress, which somehow only pushes you closer to the edge.

“Fuck, gonna come,” you moan, squeezing his hand tighter.

Felix squeezes back and goes in even faster, determined in his thrusts. “Do it, sweetheart. Come on my cock.”

It doesn’t take much longer for you to do so. A few more perfect pushes against that sweet spot inside you and a few more flicks of your fingers and your orgasm quakes through you, hot and molten from your core all the way down — up — to your curled toes. You can’t help but tug Felix’s body even closer with your legs as you tremble through your high.

“God damn,” Felix swears as he watches you come; he couldn’t see it this well on the couch earlier. Your eyes are shut, mouth fallen open, body squirming under him from all the pleasure he’s helped bring you.

And your pussy, fuck. You can’t seem to stop clenching, and it draws out his own climax. He can barely get the words out to tell you. “Shit, c-coming, babe— ungh!”

He lodges his cock as deep as it can go and finally unloads his cum into the condom with a low grunt. You peek your eyes open in time to witness his own mouth dropped open in bliss. He gives a few more firm thrusts to finish off his orgasm, then gently eases your legs down. You wince a little as you become more aware of the muscles you’ve been straining, and Felix gently kneads your hips with his fingers.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Can’t feel my legs,” you pant, smiling up at him, “but in a good way. That was amazing. You okay?”

Felix is trying to catch his own breath, but he still giggles. “I’m great!” He runs his hands up your legs from ankles to hips, then gives the sides of your ass a couple pats. “Be right back.”

He hops off the bed with a surprising amount of energy and dashes into the bathroom to trash the condom. When he returns, he has a towel in hand.

“Is it okay to clean up with this?” he asks.

You give him a tired thumbs up, and he smiles as he helps clean up the lingering wetness between your legs. He tries to do something about the wet spot on the sheets, too, but you tell him not to worry about it; you’ll just change them in a bit.

For now, you reach out to bring him back into bed and into your arms, and he easily obliges.

“Just lie with me for a bit, please?” you murmur, halfway to sleep as you play with his hair.

Felix snuggles tighter against you and hums. “Of course.”

“Might pass out any second,” you warn him.

He kisses your throat. “That’s alright, sweetheart. Rest.”

You yawn. “Want you to stay with me.”

His body is so warm and solid. His voice is deep and honeyed. “I’m here. Right here.” A few beats of silence go by, then he adds, “I’m really glad you let me come over tonight, Y/N.”

You hum, “Me too,” just before drifting off.

---

if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡

copyright © 2023 by daizymax. all rights reserved. back to masterlist

[the-dawn-star]

Hii!! Can you do Jane x reader where she’s Jane’s mate but still human. One day some important information gets leaked out and everyone in the volturi thinks the reader leaked the info. (Aro can’t read her mind) So they question her for a long time and when she still says that she didn’t do it they make Jane torture her with her power. As Jane is torturing her someone walks in and says that she didn’t do it. By the time Jane stops the reader is passed out. Everyone and mostly Jane regrets what they’ve done. The reader doesn’t wake up for a few days and Jane is in absolute sorrow. And when she finally wakes up she doesn’t even look Jane in the eyes bc of the betrayal she feels. Just a lot of angst yk:))) Buuut they make up in the end. Thank youuu🫶🏻

A/N: Hi and first of all love this idea. I kind of made this longer than intended and I left it guite open ended but I hope you like it and you don't mind I changed it a bit. Once again Jane is the movie version of the character!!!

-S

+800ish words.

CW: I mean Jane tortures Reader. Heavy angst.

Your relationship had been a struggle for a long time. You were still a human and now you were moved to Volterra to live with the vampire royalty. It was all so much, but so was your blossoming love for Jane. Your dear Jane. Jane whose main priority in life was protecting the kings and working. It was all that she had ever known, and you couldn’t even blame her for that. But Jane had started to open up to you as time went on. She talked to you about the most mundane things in her life but in truth you could have listened to her for hours.  

Aro hadn’t loved the idea of Jane finding her mate. He was so protective of the girl that he had found hundreds of years ago. And you didn’t make this protectiveness any easier. Quickly Aro had found out that his powers didn’t work on you. Reason for this wasn’t clear but after a bit of convincing Aro accepted you to move to Volterra to get to know Jane better.  

“My love...” Jane had the voice of an angel and that was the only thing that could wake you up from your sleep without making you pissed off.  

You let out a non-committal groan and opened your eyes.  

“I’m sorry but I need to go to work. There has been a problem...” Jane being evasive made you sit up in worry.  

“What’s wrong?”  

“I can’t talk about it yet, just stay here until I get back, okay?”  

You didn’t have time to answer until your mate had left the room leaving you alone on the cold bed.  

With a bit of hesitation, you laid back down and slowly fell back asleep.  

~~~ 

You woke up with your room door being slammed open. Two guards that you didn’t know walked in and didn’t give you any time before ripping you from the bed and dragged you out of the room.  

You begged for some sort of explanation. Anything that made you understand why you were being dragged to the lower levels of the castle... The levels where you weren’t allowed to go. The levels where Jane had to work sometimes, leaving her exhausted as a vampire can be.  

You were thrown into a small simple room, with a tiny table, chair and a bed, if you could call a mattress with a pillow a bed.  

It was a while before you saw anyone but when you finally saw a person you didn’t assume it would be Jane. Your dear Jane.  

“Jane! My love! What’s going on?!” You asked, hurrying to the door trying to reach your love.  

“Don’t..., I know what you did.”  

The love that you had come so used to was gone from her eyes. Her eyes were pooling with venom and her eyes were dark and sad.  

“What are you talking about?” You asked while feeling the anxiety rising up to the surface.  

“Don’t play dumb! You were the only one I told about the plans! Aro was read everyone's minds already! It has to be you so just admit it please!” 

Jane’s yells bounced off the walls and for the first time looking at her you didn’t see your love. You saw a terrified and angry young woman, who could case you more pain than you could ever imagine. Was this what most people saw when looking at your mate? Danger? Pain?  

“Are you talking about the Romanians? Is this all about that!”  

Jane had told you about Aro’s plan to kill the rest of the Romanian coven, but all the details she had told you were now erased from your mind by time.  

“Yes, it is, so just confess!” Your normally calm Jane, she was panicking.  

You didn’t have anything left to say. You were confused, scared, angry..., alone. Your only ally in the castle, your dear Jane, had left you.  

“Okay..., if that’s what you want...,” Jane’s words were ominous, and your stress level rose to the roof.  

Then the pain started. The pain that Jane had promised you would never feel. The blinding, fiery pain. You couldn’t feel your body anymore, it was just pain. Until it all went away... 

~~~ 

You finally opened your eyes. You woke up back in your bed and for a second it all seemed like a bad dream. You took a deep breath letting yourself sink into the mattress. But your peace was interrupted when you took a look around the room. 

Jane was curled into a corner of the room, eyes glued to you. Her sad eyes. Her black eyes pooled with venom.  

You couldn’t look at her, not right now at least, so you got up from the terribly comfortable bed and walked straight to the bathroom locking it behind you.  

You looked like death. Tired and angry, but you couldn’t do anything about that just yet.  

“I’m really sorry..., you have to believe me, my love. We really thought that it was you...” Jane’s words behind the door didn’t make you feel any better. And to make sure you didn’t lash out you stayed quiet. You had all the right to be quiet after screaming your throat raw.

~~~

Feel like you want to support me via Kofi? No preasure tho!

[scribblement]

Warnings: Kidnapping, Sexual Assault, Drugging, Minor Violence

Summary: Dottore leaves Sumeru, his work there finished, however he can't resist taking his new little assistant with him.

A continuation of my Dottore Akasha Mind Control Fic

Sorry for how long this part 2 took. I've still got 2 more parts in mind to write, but I honestly have no idea when I might actually write them.

I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible, but please let me know if I’ve made any mistakes.

Word Count: 4599

“Don’t worry, you’ll love Snezhnaya, it’s a bit cold, but you’ll get used to it,” He leaned down towards you, gripping your chin tighter as you flinched, trying to pull away. “I’ve told the Doctor plenty about you and he’s very excited to meet you.”

You paused for a moment, taking in what you had just been told. It didn't make any sense, isn't Il Dottore supposed to be 'the Doctor'? You were sure that was what he had introduced himself as before, though your memory was fuzzy, you weren't even sure how much time had passed since you had the misfortune of meeting him.

He cocked his head to the side, watching your reaction, seemingly amused with your confusion, yet not offering any clarification.

"What do you mean 'meet the Doctor'? Isn't that you?"

His smile only grew wider as he shook his head, looking as though he was disappointed in your question, yet still finding it amusing that you would ask.

"Hmm, an interesting question. I am indeed 'the Doctor', however 'the Doctor' is also currently wrapping things up in Sumeru."

Your confusion only grew with his strange answer, and seeing his amusement at your confusion, your annoyance also grew.

"That doesn't make sense, there's more than one Il Dottore?" You looked to 'the Doctor' for more clarification, but he only gave a non-committal hum, followed by a gesture for you to continue, so you did, trying to work it out. "But if there was more than one of you people would notice. Multiple people all calling themselves 'the Doctor' would raise questions. So you'd have to look at least somewhat alike."

His smile grew slightly, and he waved you on to continue.

"Are you twins?"

At that he let out a laugh. "No, no, nothing like that."

He stepped closer to you, placing a hand on your back. You tried to move away from him, but he simply stepped closer, caging you in and pulling you closer to him so he could lean down with his mouth right by your ear.

"You're close, but I'm afraid we'll have to take this conversation somewhere more... private." With that said he suddenly stepped away from you, using his hand on your back to spin you around in one fluid motion, then guiding you back to the room that you had woken up in previously.

It happened so quickly you weren't even able to properly try to escape his grasp, before you knew it the two of you were in a room, door closed behind you, with Dottore gesturing for you to take a seat at the desk.

Hesitantly you took a seat, keeping an eye on him, unsure of what was going on.

He took a spot near the bookshelf, casually browsing through the covers before one caught his eye and he pulled it from the shelf.

"We are not twins." He looked up from his book briefly, studying your face, smirking when he saw a look of confusion cross you. "You are going somewhat in the right direction. There are many of us, and we do look quite similar, and some of us even look exactly the same. But we are not twins, or siblings of any kind."

He quietly began to read and for a while the only sound was the soft flipping of pages as he read and the sounds of waves hitting the ship, dampened by the walls. You just sat there, confused, not sure what to make of what he had said.

"Continue working through your hypothesis, work through it out loud, it can assist your brain with making connections and organizing your thoughts."

With that he gave you another small wave for you to continue your previous line of thought.

"So there's more of you, and you all look the same, but you aren't siblings. I guess you could be robots, or clones," He looked ready to say something, but you quickly continued on. "But no one's been able to do things like that. Cloning people is a far off idea, and even the best scientists haven't been able to make robots that lifelike or small. I suppose you -"

Suddenly you were cut off by the sharp sounds of a book being shut. You looked over to Dottore to see him frowning at you. He set the book back on the shelf before walking towards you, placing a hand on the desk, before leaning into you, caging you in when his other hand settled on the desktop on your other side.

"Do you think me unintelligent?" His voice was low, nearly threatening, it was the most unsettling you'd ever heard his voice, for a moment you felt very afraid. "Do you think me to be an average scholar, bumbling my way through useless research, unable to move forward past the failings of others?"

The 'no' that escaped you was small, and you were surprised that you had found your voice at all, no matter how small and afraid you sounded.

"Good, you are a smart one aren't you, just too blinded by what you've been told is possible to consider the impossible." He brought a hand up, to toy with a piece of your hair, turning it in his fingers, examining it with a neutral expression. "I am neither a clone, nor a robot, but what I am is quite similar. What I am is a segment of the true Dottore, a part of him created to provide a diverse range of perspectives from different times in his life. I am the Omega segment, and you may refer to me as such, so long as no one else is around."

His answer left you with more questions, but you weren't sure if this was the best time to ask them, so you simply accepted what he told you.

With a sigh he let your hair drop from his grasp as he stood back up, walking back over to the book shelf, studying the selection once more. You continued sitting at the desk quietly mulling things over in your mind while he once again began reading. The silence was a welcome escape, you weren't sure if you wanted to continue speaking with Dottore, or Omega, or whoever he was. Speaking with him was exhausting, it seemed like he was judging and evaluating you every time you spoke, like there was some sort of test going on and only he knew the correct answers. Not to mention, certain things seemed to set him off and you didn't want to risk his wrath, not here on a boat where you were completely at his mercy.

"You will meet Prime Dottore soon," You jumped at his voice, not having expected him to break the silence. "He is on his way, his boat will depart Sumeru soon and we will wait for him at the next port city where we will disembark and board the ship that is waiting for us."

You simply hum in response, not quite sure what to say in response. Escaping at the port seems to be your best bet for freedom, who knows what will happen when you board the next boat.

"No more questions? With such an inquisitive mind I expected you to have more questions for me, but you've been surprisingly silent."

You thought long and hard before finally voicing the question that had been on your mind ever since you woke up on this boat.

"Can I go home?"

His eyes widened slightly, and he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side as he studied you. He seemed genuinely confused at your question. "Home? My dear, why would you ever want to go back to that small existence?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but he swiftly cut you off before you could speak.

"We are going to Snezhnaya, and you are going to continue being my assistant, which I can assure you is quite the honor. You will have power, prestige, and you'll have the freedom to question all those silly little things you were taught in Sumeru." He waited a moment, seemingly expecting you to agree with him and drop the subject, when you didn't immediately respond he frowned slightly, studying your face to determine what you were thinking.

"If I can't leave then it doesn't seem like I have that much freedom."

He was on you quicker than you could blink, grasping your chin in his bruising grip, forcing you to look at where his eyes must be underneath his mask. You were so close to him that the beak-like protrusion on his mask was brushing against your nose. You held your breath, fear settling in once more, this version of Dottore seemed to be rather volatile, and you couldn't help but wonder if the real Dottore was just as volatile.

"You're alive aren't you? I'd say that is quite the gift, and allows for a great deal of freedom. Plus the Akasha is no longer working, so you once again have your mind. You have the freedom of your thoughts and autonomy once more, is that not enough for you? Such a greedy little thing." He sneered at you, gripping your face tighter, as he studied your expression.

When you didn't immediately respond to him he loosened his grip, showing you away from him in disgust. "We'll fix that attitude of yours eventually, you'll come to appreciate the freedoms you are given."

Fear took hold of you once more, and you were suddenly gripped with the urge to flee, you felt as though you were a rabbit cowering before a wolf. Eyes darting around you noticed that there was no lock on the door to the room you were in, which meant, if you were fast enough you could escape.

Subtly shifting your body until you were facing the door more, you quickly pushed off from the bed and lunged for the door, getting it open and racing down the hall on unsteady legs as the boat shifted beneath you.

You were shocked when instead of footsteps thundering after you you merely heard laughter, bold, full bodied laughter, he was enjoying this.

"Where do you plan on going? Or have you forgotten you are on a ship, not too many places to escape to."

His voice echoed to you through the hallways, and suddenly you were struck with the truth of his words, you were on a ship, you had forgotten that piece of information in your fear. Where could you go? From your brief time on your deck you recalled that there wasn't any land around you, so you couldn't jump overboard and swim to safety. So what could you do?

Making another split second decision you spotted a door that was slightly ajar and raced for it, quickly shutting yourself inside, moving a few boxes to hopefully provide some degree of safety, and prevent the door from being opened.

You heard the footsteps of someone casually meandering down the hallway softly echoing off the ship. With every step they slowly grew louder and louder, and you knew they were gradually drawing closer, you could only hope that this door would look unassuming and he would pass by it giving you more precious time to figure out a plan.

You saw a shadow approach your door, and then, mercifully pass right by. You let out a breath you didn't know you had been holding in and slouched back against the wall in relief.

Very short-lived relief, as a moment later the door was unceremoniously shoved open, flinging the boxes against the far wall.

His mood was difficult to discern with the mask covering most of his face, but his posture as well as the slight upturn to his mouth seemed to say that he was enjoying himself, and indeed when he spoke his voice was laced with mirth.

"Hmm, seems like you didn't pick the best hiding spot," Kneeling down to match your height he reached out to grasp your shin once more, "Now are you going to stop being so childish and come back to our room, or am I going to have to lock you in here for the remainder of our 5 day voyage?"

You took a moment to mull over your options, being locked in a room for 5 days didn't sound fun, but at least you'd be away from this volatile man. On the other hand, while you would be sacrificing a bit of freedom if you went back to 'your' room, you would have more freedom than staying put.

Taking note of your hesitation he spoke again. "I should inform you that being locked in here means you don't leave for any reason, and no one is permitted to open this door for any reason until we make landfall, that means no food, no water, nothing."

With that new piece of information in mind you made your decision.

"I'll go with you"

His smile grew as he released your chin and stepped back, gesturing for you to follow him down the hallway.

"I knew you would be reasonable," He held a hand out to you, waiting for you to take it. "Now, let's go back to our room shall we?"

He waited a moment, gauging your reaction, frowning slightly at your hesitation, though his frown quickly shifted to a smirk once you reached out to take his hand. He silently led you back down through the halls until you reached the room that you had woke up in. He led you back to the bed, and sat you down, taking a seat himself at the desk, turning to face you.

"Now, I'm sure you have questions, so," He gave a small wave towards you, "Go ahead and ask anything you like."

You thought for a moment, unsure of how many questions you would be allowed to ask, or if he would really answer them. After a moment's hesitation you decided on the most important questions that you had to ask, you needed to know what had happened after your meeting at the Akademiya.

"After I met you at the Akademiya, everything just goes blank. That was the Akasha right?"

You looked up at him, trying to gauge his reaction, which was made difficult by the mask covering most of his face. But you could see the small smile playing at his lips, he was clearly amused by your question.

"An astute observation, it was indeed the Akasha's doing, I felt it would be easier if you were not aware of what was occurring, less chance of you attempting to rebel."

"So then, what happened during that time?"

"Ah, now that is the big question isn't it?" He smiled as he cocked his head to the side, studding your responses to him.

"So?" You looked at him, waiting for his answer.

"So..." he let the word trail off, waiting for you to elaborate and ask again.

"So," You huffed in annoyance, looking away from his smirking face. "What happened during that time that I don't remember."

He hummed in response, as though he was thinking over the answer, only speaking when you eventually brought your gaze back up to him, watching him once more.

"Now that is quite a valuable piece of information, and as a resident of Sumeru I'm sure you understand that all knowledge comes at a price." His smile grew as your face fell at his answer. "What will you give me in exchange for that information?"

You were taken aback at his response, he had told you to ask him any questions you had, and now he was refusing to answer them? That's just absurd.

"You said to ask you anything I wanted." You frowned, shifting on the bed to face away from him once more.

"Indeed I did, and you may ask any question you like, however whether I deign to answer them is a completely separate matter."

He stood from his desk, crossing the room in a few strides, opening a chest on the far side of the room. You remained silent as he pushed things around, looking for a specific item, eventually pulling out a box.

Walking back towards you he placed the box in your lap.

"Open it."

You weren't sure what you were expecting in the box when you opened it, but a knowledge capsule certainly wasn't high on your list of possible items.

"The offer is always open, once you decide what you are willing to trade me for that knowledge come and find me." He picked the capsule up from the box, studying how the light passed through it, turning it over in his hands. "This capsule contains all your memories from that time, while we may no longer have the Akasha system I'm sure I can make it work."

You remained silent, not sure how to respond to what he had just said, the answers you wanted were so close, but just out of reach. Who knows what you'll have to offer to get those memories back, and do you really want them? Who knows what happened, what you may have done.

You were startled out of your thoughts by a sudden knock at the door, jumping slightly from your spot on the bed. Omega simply sighed, moving from his spot to wrench open the door. 

“What?”

Looking around Omega you spotted a fatuus clutching a letter in his hand, fear at having possibly interrupted the Doctor etched on his face.

“Lord Harbinger sir, a letter has just arrived for you, it is from the Regrator.”

Omega didn’t answer, merely snatching the letter from his grasp and dismissing the man with a wave before he closed the door, making his way back to his desk.

Pulling his chair out and sitting down he began rifling through papers, pulling out anything that caught his eye. Reaching into one drawer he pulled out a letter opener, quickly using it to open the letter he carelessly tossed it to the side. 

You sat in silence as he scanned the letter, muttering to himself as he did. You didn’t listen too closely, but you could have sworn it almost sounded like he was having a conversation with himself.

You remained quiet, awkwardly sitting on the bed, unsure what to do with yourself. Escape wasn’t currently an option, as you had recently learned. Perhaps if you kept your head down you could make a break for it when you reached the next port, after all you’d have to leave the boat to board another, perhaps that could be your chance. 

“I will be right back, behave while I’m gone.”

Omega’s voice broke through your thoughts, startling you and causing you to slightly jump.

He got up and left, closing the door behind him as he left to take care of whatever work he needed to. You quickly sprung into action as soon as his footsteps began to fade, snatching up the letter opener, it may not be much but you'd rather have a weapon, no matter how small in your possession. 

You then began looking around for anything that might be of use to you. Most of the papers on his desk were complicated scientific research notes and papers on all manner of seemingly esoteric research that you weren’t able to make heads or tails of. You left them where they were, choosing instead to carefully open and search all the drawers and cupboards, unfortunately not finding anything of use. 

You then took a few moments to study your sparse surroundings, the room was large, but sparsely furnished, a bed took up a bit of the space, the largest piece of furniture in the room was the desk that was beside the bed and wrapped around the room. There was nothing that you could use, and nowhere to hide. 

You started hearing footsteps returning, so you quickly hid the letter opener in your pocket, careful to wrap it in a spare piece of fabric you had found so you didn’t cut yourself. You then returned to your spot on the bed where you had been before he left, trying your best to look like you hadn’t just been searching through all of his things.

When he returned he simply went back to his desk, pulling out more papers as well as an inkwell. Eventually the sounds of papers shuffling around and the scratching of pen on paper lulled you into a fitful rest, your body succumbing to the exhaustion of the day.

The rest of the voyage passed fairly uneventfully, though it was terribly boring. You were left without anything to do but sit on the bed and watch as Omega worked, you were forbidden from going anywhere on the ship unless Omega was with you, and he did not like being disturbed for anything, not even food or rest.

The first two days were oppressively quiet, by the third day you worked up your courage to make small talk with him. He didn’t speak much in response to anything you said or any questions you asked, too focused on his work to pay you much mind. But he did on occasion speak to you, which, as much as you hated to admit it, made the days a bit better. You never realised how much you craved interaction with people, no matter who they were until it was completely taken away from you.

The final day of the voyage started the same way as usual, and progressed in much the same way as well. It wasn’t until late at night that Omega broke his usual schedule, briefly leaving the room, only to return a short while later with a small plate of food and a pot of tea.

It was the first time he had ever eaten that you had seen. Eventually he noticed your gaze on him, and turned to you with a smirk.

“What is it? Do you want a treat?” He gestured to the plate he had brought in and you noticed that it didn’t contain the food you had expected, instead it had small cakes on it, who knew that he had a sweet tooth.

You ignored his jibe, knowing that if you addressed it he would get no end of enjoyment from your anger, instead choosing to focus on the cakes.

“What are they?” You asked as you moved closer, slowly perching yourself on the edge of the bed so you could get a better look. They were small rectangular shaped cakes, with what looked like layers of cream and chocolate, plus a layer of chocolate on top.

“A traditional Fontaine desert, I find them to be quite enjoyable.” He took his fork, and reached over to the plate, taking a small chink out of one of the cakes before taking a bite. 

You had to admit, it looked delicious and you weren’t sure how long it had been since you last had something sweet. When you worked at your bakery you would have sweets every now and again, when you were surrounded by them all day it was easy to take one and have a small snack. 

And you had never had any cakes or pastries from Fontaine, when would you ever get a chance again?

“Can I?”

He smiled when you spoke, taking his fork once again, and gathering up some of the cake for you, before holding out the fork for you to take a bite from.

You hesitantly leaned over, unsure of his intentions, but when he didn’t make any moves you took a bite from the fork, sitting back down as you did. You savored the bite, it was different from cakes that you had previously made and tried. It was soft and creamy, you could taste almond, and chocolate, but also a distinct coffee taste, there was also a bitter flavour that you couldn’t quite place, but you assumed that it was a spice or ingredient from Fontaine that you haven’t tried before.

“Well?”

He studied your expressions as you ate, smile widening when he saw your eyes drift to the second piece on his plate. 

“It’s good,” You hesitantly leaned back towards him. “Can I have more?”

He sat back in his chair, studying you for a moment before smiling again. 

“I suppose you can, after all you have been rather well behaved, aside from the incident, on your first day awake.” He pulled out another fork and placed the plate on the empty section of desk beside you, allowing you to finish the cake that had a few bites out of it while he ate the other.

The two of you ate in silence, savoring the delicious cakes, and all too soon they were gone. Omega took the forks and plate, leaving the room to return them to the kitchen. 

You began feeling tired, and let the gentle swaying motion of the ship rock you to sleep.

Your mind was fuzzy, tired with sleep as an unknown sensation slowly pulled you from your dreams. You began shifting around, feeling a pressure on your hips, almost pinning you down.

"Shhh, shh, shhh," A soft voice broke through the sleepy haze of your mind, you knew that voice, but couldn't quite place it. "Relax, bunny, just relax."

You made a soft noise of discomfort as you continued trying to move, something other than sleep was stopping you from being able to move as much as you wanted to.

You felt a hand trailing up your side, ghosting over your skin as it traced unknown patterns across your skin. Then you felt another strange sensation, a soft press against your neck, and then again, moving higher and higher.

You tried to squirm away again, when that was unsuccessful you focused on trying to focus your vision. Everything was so blurry you couldn't make out anything distinct. When you turned your head slightly you saw blue hair.

When you moved again, you were suddenly roughly pinned down, and a face came into view. Through your altered vision you couldn't make out much, just blue hair and red eyes.

"Stay still, stop fighting the sedative, just go back to sleep."

You thrashed, trying to get away from the unwanted touches, or at least you tried to. Whatever sedative he had dosed you with was having quite the effect, you were barely able to move.

He tutted as you continued trying to squirm away from him.

"You know, you were so much more compliant when you had the Akasha."

You stilled at that, a thousand thoughts running through your mind as your blood turned to ice. What had he done to you when you had been under the control of the Akasha?

He hummed when you stilled, pleased with your seeming compliance.

"That's it, just like that." His hands resumed their exploration of your body, leaving a burning trail of shame in you everywhere he touched. "I don't know how much time we have left together, so just lay still and let me commit your body to memory."

Panic welled up in you once more and you desperately tried to move again, to speak, to do anything to stop him. All your efforts rewarded you with was a sigh from Omega as he lifted himself off of you before he reached into the bedside table, searching for something. You couldn't see what he pulled out, but suddenly you felt a sharp pinch in your arm before your vision slowly faded back to black.

[queerponcho]

Transfixed | part 3

previous part | part 4

collage made by me with pictures from pinterest

moonknight!system x female!reader

a/n: AHHH- Thank you all so much for reblogging, liking and commenting on my past chapters!!! I just reached 50 reblogs and it honestly means the world that people are embracing a newbie like me (✿◠‿◠)

Warnings: no use of Y/N, fluff, NOT beta read, gushing about the moonboys, flustered awkward dorks, plot-twists, Jake being a menace, (eventual smut, the chapters will be marked individually), inaccurate depictions of DID, egyptian mythology and religion (although I did extensive research I took liberty in changing some things to adhere to my plot...), if I missed anything or made any spelling mistakes pls don't hesitate to tell me!

Summary: Steven and Marc have a little...carfuffle when Jake finally lets them front again, after days of taking over. The date plans are set and both parties eager to meet soon but are we surprised when things don't go as planned..?

2,200 words

Steven at home

‘I can’t believe this- how does this even happen Steven?’

‘Mate, I don't know! You were there weren’t you? You know how it happened…’

‘So you’re tellin’ me that any pretty girl can just sit there and you will literally tell them all about our personal business???'

‘How else was I supposed to find out about Jake huh?? Say that he’s my identical twin brother and then have to explain myself-'

‘Steven you would never have had to explain anything! Because this was supposed to be ONE conversation over a non-committal coffee- not a damn first date.’ Marc replies sternly. He looks at Steven in the glass of the fishtank and notices him looking deflated and guilty. Great- now he feels guilty for making Steven feel guilty. ‘I-I am sorry man, I shouldn't've gotten this mad, you know how I am about…personal stuff.’ Marc says sincerely. He really has been trying to be better at communicating, it’s been a feat to get here but he would do anything to make Steven's life easier. ‘It’s alright Marc..you’re right I should call off the date’ Steven says while looking at his hands, remembering your touch on his shoulder. The way you made him trust you so easily, even though he barely knew you. How desperately he wanted to get to know you an- ‘Steven, you know we share a brain right?’ Marc says trying to stop Steven from swooning any further. ‘Look- clearly you like her and she seems to like you as well, so who says this won’t turn out well?’ ‘well- you know: “we share a brain”’ Steven says, mocking Marc's previous comment. ‘Okay okay I get it-  I messed up. I’m sorry. There, will you let me help you now?’ Marc looks at Steven expectantly.

Days passed since they had returned home after you left them in the cafe. Steven was pretty sure Jake had taken over after leaving the coffee-shop but he was finally fronting again after a few days. Steven squints his eyes at Marc but relents ‘alright fine, I don’t know what to text her…I think she might be waiting for me to initiate conversation…’ ‘You realise we wouldn't have this issue if I had fronted and you wouldn't have had the chance to fall in love like a desperate teen-boy’ ‘I thought you said you lay off with the mean comments! And i am NOT in love-’

‘yeahyeah, you’ve never had a girlfriend have you? You must be reeaaally nervous…’ he adds in a singsong voice. Marc won’t let up, he’s being dragged into this mess so he might as well have a bit of fun. ‘Okay now I know you’re just takin’ the piss- are you gonna help me or not?’ Steven says fully aware of his embarrassing situation. ‘Alright, you text and I tell ya how to start, alright?’

‘Oh bollocks- uum okok I-I can do this..’ Steven is fronting now sitting on the office-chair and stares at his phone screen, starting with a simple introduction.

steven is typing...

‘Hiya- it’s me Steven!’

He had written, deleted and rewritten the message about six times before finally sending it.

You answered very quickly, you’d been waiting for him to text since you got home a few days ago. Processing everything that happened between you and steven- and well, Jake.

‘hi:) glad to hear from you. I wanted to apologise for leaving so abruptly, but it was all a bit much to process and i was running super late for work haha…i hope you understand’

‘Of course luv. If you’ve got any questions you can always ask, I hope you know that.’

‘i do’

‘i was actually hoping to ask you some questions on that date you promised me;)’

You seemed a bit more forward over text and Steven did not mind it one bit, since it was just the push he needed.

‘Right! I thought we could meet friday? There's this great vegan restaurant, I'd love to take you there?’

‘sounds great! could you pass me the address of the place?’

‘No need luv- I’ll pick you up.’

‘oh!’

‘that works too’

You hadn’t realised the age gap until this moment. They were probably around 10 years older than you with you being in your mid-twenties. You did notice the wrinkles and silver strands when you first saw Jake but hadn’t really thought about the fact that he was about a decade older than you. Just now as he offered to pick you up did you realise the generational difference. You didn’t have an issue with it, you’ve always liked your partners to be a bit older so this definitely wasn’t a turnoff. If anything it only amplified your attraction.

‘I’d love your address’

‘Whenever you get the chance to send it:)’

‘right! sending it now…’

You send him your address. 

‘Thanks luv. Alright, I’ll see you Friday at 7pm then?’

‘yes! see you tomorrow steven<3’

He sat back, setting his phone on the sink. ‘Alright there's your date’

‘Thanks for taking over, Marc- couldn’t have done it alone’

‘Relax Steven- this was just texting. But you realise I can’t just take over during the date, right?’

‘Of course I know that…doesn’t mean you shouldn’t stand by just in case…’ 

‘So- wait, what are we gonna do with Jake's notebook?’

‘I uuhm couldn't find anything besides drawings and sketches of her…I mean at least we had those, otherwise we would’ve never found out about him loaning that book.’

‘By the way…we know Jake likes her as well, by getting to know her better, we have a chance of actually luring Jake out-’

‘That might be true but that's not our goal! I- I actually like her…she might become my first proper girlfriend, I don't wanna mess this up.’ Steven is adamant on getting to know you, very hopeful of the connection he feels towards you. An almost magnetic pull he felt between you, one he has never felt with anyone before.

Marc chuckles at the reminder but reassures Steven, ‘And we won't, I promise, you will do fine Steven’

Friday

It’s 4 am. You’ve been trying to sleep for the past four hours but the thought of getting to see Steven and possibly Jake later today was not letting you relax. If anything it was causing a very persistent tension…in places you really dont wanna delve into. In fact, you’re trying really hard not to think about that tension, which might be the exact reason as to why you can’t seem to find your way to a peaceful slumber. You try to distract yourself by thinking of how this all even started. The way Jake intrigued you since the beginning and had you speechless every time he appeared. And you think about steven- steven who's the polar opposite to jake and is this shy sweetheart that can’t seem to even look you in the eyes but somehow managed to bluntly ask you out on a date. You keep thinking about them and their differences and analyse them, not noticing your eyes slowly shutting closed and your thoughts slowly forming into vivid dreams based on your memories with the boys…you sit up in your bed abruptly remembering your texts with steven. Realising you had shared your private address with a fucking stranger…you hold your head in your hands and push your palms into your eye-sockets trying to calm down. You don't actually know shit about these men…you really should’ve told your friends about them cuz literally no one knows about these encounters. But truly it was all so bizarre and absurd that you really didn’t want your friends to spoil it for you by using anything close to logic or realism. To maybe argue that they could have anything untoward in mind with you. 

You lay back down and finally feel a wave of exhaustion hit you. You want to believe that they actually maybe even like you…of course there is a possibility that Steven only asked you out to find out more about Jake. oh and marc, was it? You wonder what he might be like and if he's anything like his alters. You turn from your clock having hit 5am and finally force yourself into sleep.

You wake up to your alarm blaring and prepare yourself for work. You start the day groggy and tired due to only sleeping four hours. But just the thought of your date tonight has you motivated enough to hurry up and catch the next bus.

Moonboys POV

Marc woke up around noonish since Steven took forever to finally fall asleep. Lately he’d been better but last night he was as jittery as a six year old the night before christmas. Currently standing in the kitchen brewing himself a cup of black coffee and prepping his mug with two brown sugars. ‘So loverboy, what are you planning for tonight?’ He says while wearing an amused smirk on his face.

‘Okay well first off, cool it with the nicknames yeah? And secondly you literally texted it for me yesterday. We are goin’ to my favourite restaurant.’ Steven replies proudly while also ashamed for not even having the balls to text you himself. ‘About that…I don’t think that place is open right now- in fact I think all the restaurants are closed today, no?’ Marc remarks and pours himself the long awaited bitter brew. ‘Wha-Whatareyousayin mate??’

‘Well’ He clears his throat ‘when I woke up I saw today's date and remembered that today is that weird holiday, the only thing open are convenience stores and the 24-hour Tesco’ he says, his voice laced in an amused tone and takes a slow sip of his sweetened coffee. ‘Bollocks- what am I gonna do?...I could cook?’ ‘Steven’ ‘No, I-i can't even make a- a salad! How the hell am i supposed to cook for her if I can't cook marc?!’ he says panicked ‘Steven’ marc sternly interrupts, carefully putting his half empty mug on the counter 

‘I can help you. I may not be amazing at it but I can remember a few things from- from what our dad taught us.’ Marc and Steven rarely talked about their past but recently they were kinda forced to deal with it. Just the fact that they, let alone Marc, can mention anything from that time so casually is kind of a huge step for them. 

Marc and Steven spend the rest of the day planning, buying and preparing the food for the date. The time comes when Steven has to take over the body to get ready to pick you up. He finds a shirt in the back of his closet- same oversized cut as his others but a bit less casual and more sleek looking than the usual shirts he wears. His hair is as unruly and fluffy as usual despite Marc insisting on sleeking it back. He convinces him to use some curling cream he had found in the back of the bathroom drawer.

Steven applies it sceptically, coming to the conclusion that it does look pretty good. He makes his way to your address making sure to ring on the right door. Basically buzzing from anxiety, Marc is doing everything to keep him calm and rehearse with him what he was gonna do and say when you ringed him in and opened your door, knowing full well, that all the preparation would fly out the window when he actually met you…Jake is silently watching this all transpire and cant help but be amused at all this, not admitting that he was actually a bit nervous himself.

You came back from work tired BUT extremely excited to get ready. You had to stay a bit longer than anticipated and thus only had about one hour to get ready. Hopping in the shower as quickly as possible you try to calm down under the warm streams of water hitting your body, melting all the tension out of your back, shoulders and sore legs. Work had been exhausting and this shower was proving to get difficult to leave. But the alarm you had set to remind yourself of the time, successfully cut your relaxation short. You quickly exited your shower wrapping your body in a fluffy white towel. Wiping the steamy mirror to see your reflection more clearly, you start getting ready. Adding whatever products you use to your hair and applying sweet smelling lotion to your body, basically doing any- and everything to make you feel as confident and ready as possible for your date, who was supposed to arrive iiiin…twenty minutes?!

You hurried your makeup routine and rushed to your room quickly picking out an outfit you felt sexy in but also had a grounding and comfy vibe. You threw on a beige knitted sweater, which had an oversized fit with a mini-jean skirt. Paired with sheer brown tights, thigh-high beige cashmere socks and brown leather knee-high, high-heeled boots. Finishing off the look with your favourite jewellery and accessories, you look over at the clock. It's 6.50pm and you are just adding the last finishing touches to your look and making sure you've moved all the important things from your ‘work-bag’ to your ‘going out purse’ when the door rings. ‘He's here’ you mutter to yourself, running to the door making sure it's him and pushing the button to the intercom. ‘Yes, hello?’

a/n: hope yall liked this chapterrr- in the next chapter you'll be able to read all about the date and i am SO excited for yall to read about it *squeals* don't mean to toot my own horn but GURL it's so good i already wanna post it ♪(´▽｀)

The lovely people in my taglist: @lilladyblink14 @lemongirl5910

please notify me if you want to be added/ removed from the Taglist<3

[oleander-nin]

Heyy.!

I'd like to request a little sister turtle reader.! If you have seen @buggy-cj, I have requested a little sister reader from her.! And she did an awesome job, and I've just read and seen most of your posts. And WOW.! People know how to create masterpieces, really-

Little sister is 12, and has a dark green mask. And unlike her brothers, she doesn't have any markings on her body. She's just a regular pond turtle. So she feels really insecure from being different from her family. Since she's the only girl, and she isn't very special in her opinion.

Thank you for reading this.!!

A/N, not important: Sorry this took so long, I struggled pretty badly with it :/. ASLO, I'm going to be gone for the next week, and will be unable to look at tumblr from Sunday, May 28th, to Thursday, June 1st. You can still talk to me all you want, but please be patient when waiting for my response. This is my last request I needed to get done with before I could start working on the 100/200 follower special. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: crying, reader being kind of cold to their siblings, feelings of self-doubt and inferiority, my writing

Words: 1623

Summary: Your confidence was shot, and the self-loathing was seeping in. Sometimes, all you need is a hug from your father to get it all to spill out.

Curled up against the corner of the subway cart where my bed sat, I read my book, headphones on but no music playing. My eyes run over the same lines over and over, my brain not processing the words. I groan, flitting back a page so I could understand what was going on, trying to ignore the turbulence of my emotions, just as I was ignoring my brothers. I wipe my eyes again as another tear escapes my hold, holding my breath until the uncertainty and sorrow slips back down my throat. I take a deep breath, glancing at the mirror Mikey helped hang on my wall, making sure there wasn’t any sign of my tears.

A knock at the metal walls of my room startles me, my book slamming shut in my hands. I flip through the pages with gritted teeth, trying desperately to find my page. I glance up at Leo as he enters, his hands on his hips as he smiles down at me. “Ah, sorry. Did I scare you?” Leo’s voice floods my ears, his presence bringing up the feelings of inferiority I was trying to shove down.

I grumble a bit, marking my page before setting my book down, glaring at my older brother in annoyance. Leo just grins at me, his teeth showing as he laughs slightly. Leo starts to pull me by my arm, trying to drag me off my bed. “C’mon, Mikey made dinner. He wants everyone at the dinner table, pronto!”

I groan but slide off the bed, grabbing my green mask and tying it on before letting Leo drag me towards the kitchen. We both hurry to the kitchen, sliding into the chairs right as Mikey sets a big pot of stew on the table. I silently thank him, nodding my head as we all start to serve ourselves, Raph and Donnie having already been seated. I eat my food, mindlessly listening to the conversation flowing around me, only giving input when specifically prompted. I tried to ignore the way Raph stared, the concern in his eyes growing. I pretended to not notice the side glances Donnie and Leo gave me at my non-committal answers. I avoided Mikey’s worried eyes.

I silently chew at the chunks in my stew, staring intently at the grain of the table, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Raph clears his throat, trying to get my attention. I ignore him. 

“(Y/n),” Raph starts, his voice low, care and sympathy mixed with agitation. All other conversation goes silent, everyone staring at Raph and I. I glance up at Raph, but don’t respond. He sighs, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Are you okay? I can’t help but notice you’ve been… Distant, lately. Raph’s worried. We’re all worried.”

I pick my head up, bringing my spoon to my mouth and loudly slurping the contents of the stew. Raph’s eye twitches as his chasm deepens.

“He’s not kidding, (Y/n). We’ve all noticed your… Lack of energy. We just want to know what’s going on.” Mikey chimes in, stirring his bowl of stew absent-mindedly. Leo and Donnie nod, agreeing with what Mikey said.

Leo shifts in his seat, leaning in close to me and slinging his arm around my shoulder. He tugs me closer, a sad smile on my face as he noogies the top of my head. I huff, pushing him off and fixing my mask after he knocked it crooked. Leo smiles softly, patting my head before I could pull back. “You know you can talk to us, right? We’re your older brothers, not your enemies. We can tell something’s wrong.”

They all look at me expectantly, as if they thought their words would magically get me to spill everything out. I take another bite of my food, chewing obnoxiously long. Raph’s eyebrow muscles furrow, his mouth opening as if he was about to say something, but I cut him off. “I though this was dinner, not an interrogation.”

Raph glares at me as I continue to eat my dinner, picking my bowl up and drinking the rest down. I felt bad, guilt starting to swirl in with the rest of the misery and feelings of inadequacy. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand when I finish my stew, standing up and punishing the chair back with the back of my legs. “I’m going back to my room. Have fun.”

“We’re going on a patrol, actually.” Donnie corrects, scrolling through his phone. I look at him, frowning.

“Not going. Have fun.” I say, dropping my bowl off in the sink and starting to wash it out. Leo stands up as Raph sputters, Leo patting Raph on the shoulder and whispering something to him before joining me at the sink with his own bowl. He nudges me to the side, taking over the sink and washes the bowls out before silently handing them to me to dry.

“Why don’t you want to go?”

I look at Leo, drying the bowls with the towel before setting them on the counter. I shrug, not sure what to say. Leo hands me the next bowl, turning around and leaning against the counter. 

“You know you can trust us with anything, right? We’re not going to get mad if you’re upset, or if  something’s wrong. We just want to help you.” We both ignored the hushed arguing coming from the table.

I look away from Leo, putting the bowls back away. Leo lets out a breath, patting me on the back. “You don’t have to go. I’ll talk to the others.” He says quietly, letting me escape to my room. I smile gratefully at Leo before slipping out of the kitchen, the others too busy arguing to notice my escape.

As Leo promised, I was able to stay in my room, the sound of the four older turtles leaving the lair reverberates across the concrete walls. I curl up against the corner of the wall where my bed sat once more, trying to get through my book despite the thoughts racing through my head. I shift on my bed, frustrated. I through my book across my room, curling my knees to my chest as I bury my face into them, sniffling slightly. Everything I had said at dinner, being that crass towards my brothers who only wanted to help, to know what was wrong. It all just added to the mountain of emotion building upon my shoulders.

I rip my mask off, throwing it to the floor as well, tears leaking from my eyes faster then I could wipe them away. I jump slightly when I feel a hand on my shoulder, a small pressure from weight. I wipe my eyes, looking up to see the face of my father, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“What is wrong, Green?” He asks softly, moving to sit on my bed. I skooch over, still siting with my knees to my chest and my arms crossed over them. I look at my dad before looking back at my covers, wiping my eyes on the rough, scaly skin of my shoulder. “Why aren’t you with your brothers? Blue told me something was wrong.”

My bottom lip quivers slightly and I look away, not meeting my fathers gaze out of embarrassment. It takes all but one glance at Splinter’s worrisome expression before I start spilling my heart out. All the feelings doubt, self-loathing, and every insecurity I felt came tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop, my father sitting next to me as he silently listened.

Splinter nods, his arms reaching out for me, hesitating for a moment before pulling me into a hug. He rubs my shell as I cry, whispering soft words of encouragement to me. 

We sit there for what feels like hours, Splinter only holding me tightly in comfort. It was clear he was not sure what to do, and I couldn’t help but feel grateful for how hard he was trying. Once the tears end and devolve into nothing more than small hiccups, my father speaks. “Thank you for telling me this. I- Your brothers are worried, and if you’re okay with it, I think they should know as well. You are not a burden to them, (Y/n). I promise you that.”

I let out a wet scoff, my throat still swollen with tears. “Everyone else is special though. Their powers work, and- and I don’t even have markings! I’m not special, or as strong, or as fast. I can’t do everything they can.”

“Raph doesn’t have marking either.” Splinter says softly. “And Leo struggled with his teleportation for years. You’ll get better with time, you just have to work on it. I’m sure your brothers would be delighted to help. Raph especially, if you want to train.”

I nod, frowning slightly. Splinter stays quiet, not sure how else to help. He continues to rub my back, being a silent rock to hold me steady in my storm. My head perks up and Splinter’s ear twitches when we hear a intelligible shouting and laughter coming near the entrance of the lair, signaling the return of the other turtles. Splinter looks at me, silently asking my permission to talk with them. I nod again, too choked with tears I was determined to hold back to talk.

Splinter picks my mask back off the floor, wiping the wet trails from my face before carefully tying it over my eyes. He holds my chin, rubbing my cheek softly as he tries to soothe me. I lean into his palm, appreciating how hard my father was trying. “Let’s go talk to your brothers.”

[steviewashere]

Mirrors to the Soul

Rating: General CW: Past Parental Death, Grief/Mourning, Sick Parent, Stroke, Brief Homophobic Slur (Almost Forgot to Tag) Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Soft Eddie Munson, Soft Steve Harrington, Love Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Reflections, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Dialogue Heavy

Two fics in one day? Why, yes, I am insane.

🫂—————🫂 The air was chilling tonight. Sweeping by and prickling on Eddie’s cheek. Sky was clear. Except for the stars. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen this many, not all at once, not during a time like this. His lungs burn gently, the crackling of his cigarette a lull within the buzz of nocturnal mosquitos.

There’s nothing to do. Nowhere to be. The trailer’s roof is cold against his back. And his mind is wandering. To everything he could imagine. Dustin’s recent try at a Hellfire campaign, Mike’s new guitar hobby and how he’s actually good, Lucas’s attempt at passing Eddie the ball (only for the ball to not be caught and instead hit him square in the chest), Robin’s date with Vickie, and Steve’s snores after a long Family Video shift. Life’s actually decent. It’s warm in the community he’s created. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even if it means losing his mom over and over and over again. The pain that was left. Her last goodbye. Which wasn’t really an exchange of words, but her eyes. Oh, her eyes.

Somebody is clambering up the side of the trailer. Thunking and hefting and panting slightly. And then, the top of Steve’s head is popping up. His hair askew, face slack, mouth glistening a bit with drool. “What’re you up here for?” Steve asks him sleepily.

“Thinking,” he answers softly. Opens up his non-smoking arm and gestures for Steve to come on over. Relishing in the way Steve’s head rests on his shoulder when he gets himself settled, the ability to tighten an arm over his broad shoulders, and the heat that radiates from him. “What’re you up here for?”

“Woke up,” Steve mumbles, “you weren’t there. Got worried.”

Eddie hums. “Sorry,” he whispers, “just got caught up in my thoughts. I’ll come back—“

“What’re you thinking about? Y’know, if you’re okay sharing.” Steve nuzzles his cheek into Eddie’s bony shoulder. His lips dragging over the threadbare t-shirt underneath them. The heat and plush quality of them felt.

“Not an exact thing, really,” Eddie answers honestly. “Just sorta…I dunno. Let myself be proud of Mike and Dustin. Remembered the pain of that basketball Lucas tossed at me. Got excited about the juicy details I’ll get from Robin later. Was thinking of how nice it is to hear you sound asleep after a long, grueling day.” He cups his hand over Steve’s right shoulder. Pressing it into his shirt, dragging it down to his bicep, and back up to his neck. Lays his palm flat against the exposed skin there. Frowning, though Steve can’t see him, at the temperature. “Mm, you’re warm. You feeling okay?”

Steve nods sluggishly. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “just…y’know me. Space heater.”

Gently, Eddie tucks his head down to land a quick kiss to Steve’s forehead. Feeling how Steve scrunches his eyebrows, then raises them in contentment. He reaches out his left hand blearily to the extra space on the roof, puts out his cigarette, and then wraps his now free hand on the middle of Steve’s back. Pulls him in a little closer and looks back up at the spatter of stars.

“Wayne…Wayne asked me if you’ve talked about your mom at all,” Steve says slowly. An edge of confusion to his words. “Told him no. He thought that it was weird. Is—Should you be talking about your mom or something?”

Tracing a finger down the ridges of Steve’s spine, Eddie makes a non-committal grunt. “I mean…I don’t have to,” he states quietly, “it’s just. It’s the anniversary I came home to Wayne. Her funeral.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes. “Oh. I—I’m sorry, Eds. I shouldn’t have—I didn’t—“

“Shh, sweetheart,” he coos. Runs his palms soothingly up and down Steve’s torso until he goes lax against his shoulder again. “I know you didn’t know, it’s okay. I was already thinking about her anyway.”

Steve goes extremely quiet for several minutes. Enough for the mosquitos to take that as invitation, to buzz and hum louder. For the neighborhood stray dog to start digging at the chainlink fence. The neighbors a few trailers down to start up another argument. He eventually sighs, though. Lays his palm over Eddie’s belly and strokes his thumb in counter-clockwise circles. “What were you,” he asks hesitantly, “what were you up here thinking about?”

Eddie takes a hesitant gulp. Hopes Steve doesn’t hear it. Or the shutter of his next inhale. The sudden lurch in his chest. “Oh…I thought about her eyes.”

“Her…Her eyes?”

Instinctively, Eddie squeezes them closer together. As if Steve’s his childhood teddy bear. “Yeah,” he breathes, “her eyes.” His throat clicks with his next swallow. And briefly, he wishes he didn’t have to keep explaining himself. Or the nature of his parents. But he was already thinking about her. God, he was thinking about her. “Have you ever—you probably haven’t—but you ever see somebody say goodbye without using their words?”

“Sure,” Steve says quietly, “Honestly, Billy had this look to him before he…I couldn’t care at the time. But I—That look haunts me. Defeat, I think. It was the towel being thrown in, y’know?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, it’s like defeat. It’s…I think it’s one of the worst ways somebody can look at a person. I think somebody who looks like that knows, too.

“It’s weird. She was sick on and off for years. Just had a slew of health issues. Blood pressure and strokes and things like that. So, her…Watching her go shouldn’t have been a surprise. I’d been expecting it for a long time. Like so long, in fact, that I always had this motto about her: “She’s going to go, so you need to be ready.” That’s what I used to tell myself.”

“Eddie,” Steve mumbles, “that’s—“

“Awful?” He questions softly. “I know. But when someone enters your life and you build your whole world around them and then they just—

“She didn’t care, is the thing. Didn’t care for herself. Didn’t try. Didn’t want to most days. It was always this—this thing with her. I’d help her sort out her pills, I’d be the one to put her to bed on her worst days, I was always there to hold her hair back or to wipe her skin or to just make sure she laughed. But…Some days it just felt like she didn’t put in the effort,” he explains fiercely, yet quietly. For a moment, he takes a deep, strangling breath. Letting it go just as he presses firmly on Steve’s shoulders, as he lays his cheek on Steve’s freshly cleaned hair, and recalibrates.

Steve’s hand lays itself heavily on his chest. Thumb working overtime. “Take your time,” he murmurs, “I’m listening.”

Eddie nods because he’s still finding his words. Swallowing down the bad ones. Receding the anger that overtakes him a lot of the time when she’s the subject. Hates that it’s his first reaction. Loves it because for the first few months after her, he felt nothing.

He continues, “On her last day, I wasn’t even with her. I’d been at school. And then I went to a friend’s house to play some card games and hang out. I had—I remember calling her at the school, using the payphone. Putting in the last of my lunch money so I could just ask for her permission.

“I also remember not saying bye. Or saying how much I love her. Or that I love her, matter of fact. Just rushed out the question, hung up when she said yes. Followed my friend to the bus. Didn’t go home for several hours.” He’s always wondered if he’d gone home immediately, if she would’ve held out longer. If she would’ve been the one to unlock the door and usher him inside. If she would’ve had a tv show on and her wheelchair parked in front of it, if he would’ve been on the couch eating a stupid mayo and turkey sandwich, if they would’ve laughed themselves silly.

If she would’ve kissed his head later that night. And they would say their ‘I love you’s and she would’ve not—

“I came home and she was having a stroke,” Eddie confesses quietly. The words like plucking glass from a deep wound. And that’s sort of what it is, he supposes. Her loss like a still healing scar on his heart. Steve pats his chest like he knows. Maybe he does, Eddie wonders, maybe he always knew. “Dad wanted me to help her into her chair. But I—You’ve seen me, Steve. I’m scrawny. Like I’m not…I’m not like you. I don’t have all that bulk, the muscle to lift much. Like I can lift amps, those are only twenty pounds or so if they’re bigger, but she’s a whole person. I wasn’t going to be able to. But I tried.

“I tried, is the thing. Really, I did.”

Steve kisses his shoulder. “I believe you, Eds,” he whispers, easy as that.

Eddie closes his eyes briefly. The tears don’t want to rescind this time, but he’s caught up in his own words, unable to make them stop. “I tried,” he says again. “I was standing in front of her. And her arms…She kept pointing at things, but I didn’t understand and I—I could only look at her. Couldn’t really breathe. I couldn’t get my words out correctly. So I just stared.

“And she…She looked back, Steve. My mama looked back at me.

“Those thirty seconds that we—“ He swallows heavily, choking back on the steady stream of tears making their sure way down his face. Lets himself breathe. Breathe. “—Those thirty seconds held everything. All the words we couldn’t say. I saw them manifest in her gaze. All those apologies for bad arguments we’d have. The soft okays we’d exchange when I needed to help her. Even the stupid inside joke she had about how Karen Carpenter was my childhood celebrity crush.” Despite himself, he smiles. Washes in Steve’s little snort. Because it’s true, he did have a crush on Karen Carpenter—how his mom just knew, Eddie’ll never know. “All this to say, she told me that she loved me. She gave me the same eyes she did when I’d have night terrors. When I’d cry about how scary the dark was. When I’d come home all swollen and beaten up, thinking dirty about how much of a fag I was; when she had held me and told me it was okay, as long as I was still her little Teddie Bear.

“Oh, I was,” Eddie shakily breathes out. “I was everything to her, I think. Because she was my everything. Stevie, my mama was my whole world. And I—I could only stare at her when she needed my help the most. I wonder, y’know, if she was okay with me gaping and shaking and afraid in that moment.

“I wonder if she looked at me and instead of seeing her freshly teenaged son, she saw her newborn baby boy between her arms. With big scared eyes. And tears on his face. I wonder if she…I wonder if she wanted to reach up with her limp arms and caress my cheeks and coo.” He sniffs. Swallows down his snot, disgusting as it is compared to all of this. And sighs. Says softly, “There was this one night where she had a really bad, explosive argument with my dad. I must’a been four or five? Woke up in the middle of the night to them screaming, kind of drifting, half-awake. And she. My mama opened my bedroom door and pulled back my blanket and crawled in with me. Lay right by my side, held my hands, was crying all soft and quiet.

“I asked her if she was okay. She told me she was fine. I asked her if she was mad at Daddy. She said yes. I asked her if she wanted to cuddle. And she just held me in her arms and I held her back. And when she pulled away, though her hands were still on my back, she looked at me and said: “I love you.” Because I was a curious little shit, I could only ask, “Forever and ever?” She nodded anyway. Answered, “Forever and ever until time runs out.””

Eddie splays his palm between Steve’s shoulder blades. A mirror to his mom’s right hand on his own back. Kisses him again because he’s there and tangible and alive and warm. Whispers, “I wonder if she looked at me in our final moments together and realized time was running out, y’know? If she…if she wanted to promise forever anyway. I would’a let her, is the thing. Because there’s no way that her and I aren’t infinite.”

Slowly, Steve sits up. Leans down on his left elbow, hovering over Eddie. He carefully swipes his free hand down the side of Eddie’s face. Wiping away at the tears, caressing his skin, gazing softly down at him. “Y’know what I think?”

“Hm?”

Another soft pet to the side of his face, this time Steve’s knuckles grazing his skin. “I think,” Steve whispers, “I think you two are. I think…That time doesn’t stop moving. And with the way you talk about her, it’s clear the love lives on.”

Eddie closes his eyes. Drenching in the thought. The sincere truth behind it.

He won’t tell Steve this, but there was a part of him that was ready to welcome his mama into his body. That it was for safety, protection, a sanctuary. In their final moment together, he had wanted to climb back inside his mother’s body or to open his own and fit her around his heart. That he imagined his body like a tomb—and her sanctuary, the womb. That they were one in the same. In that final moment, they were the same.

“At her funeral,” he murmurs, “we had an open casket.” He opens his eyes, searching Steve’s face for uncertainty.

“You can tell me, Eds,” Steve responds, coaxing. “I’m listening, baby.”

Eddie softly nods. Leans into the warmth of Steve’s palm still on his face. Breathes out. Breathes in. “I didn’t want to look,” he confesses quietly. “Part of me was afraid. But…I think most of me just didn’t want to accept her as gone. So I—Wayne had crouched down in front of me, we were in the closest pew inside this crazy echoing church, and he placed his hands on my knobby knees. His hands were heavy and his face was tired. He still had most of his hair, but he looked older, like he does now.

“But he told me that they were going to close the casket if I wanted to say goodbye. I just shook my head. I couldn’t bear the thought. That the last time I saw her, I couldn’t speak. And I didn’t want our last time to be this…this moment where she wouldn’t listen.

“So, when I think of her now, I think of her eyes. Of every single thing we’d ever done. How she held me. How we danced. Our music. The peals of laughter across the living room. Every argument. All the hugs in which we cried and we were sorry and how warm she was. She was always so warm.

“You wanna know something funny, sweetheart?” He asks with levity.

Steve peers softly at him. Holding him. Smiling that little gentle thing he does. “What is it?” He murmurs.

“She used to tell me that she was okay when I asked about how warm she was. Said that, “Oh, y’know. I’m a space heater, Teddie.” And I just think…I think—Sometimes I look and listen to you and I imagine her, just this essence she had. This…

“Her love. Because she loved everything, anything that she could. Held onto things. Caressed them. Kissed ‘em. And if I ever needed assurance that love is forever, I look onto you and I see her and…And I dunno. You reach me in ways only blood knows how, and I know that with you, my world is complete.” He sniffs. Breathes this giddy chuckle of a thing. Steve’s full attention is on him, a little heartbroken, but a lot sincere. “All this to say that I…I didn’t really talk about her today because—Love takes new shape when you need it again. I listened to you snore for a bit earlier before I came out here and I knew I was going to be okay.

“That we were going to be okay. Everybody’s alive. And even if my mom isn’t, her love is. She’s in everything.” He reaches up his right hand from where it fell away from Steve’s shoulders, instead cupping his face. Thumb tracing over his cheekbone, over a raised white scar from a previous fight. Fingers skating down to his neck, the exposed circle from the demobat tail and the vines. Up and around to his back again where he’s got scars like angel wings. Lifts his head and leans up, the lightest press of his lips on Steve’s. Between them, he breathes, “I love you.”

“Jesus,” Steve chokes out wetly, “I love you, too.”

Eddie hums pleased. “I just needed to say it. I never want to forget again. You make me remember. You make me selfless, Steve. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

🫂—————🫂 Oops, thought about my mom today.

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Like Your Blood On My Teeth Just A Little Too Much - 10

You’re a former military, career oriented security executive who has made quite the living for yourself- but it has always been lacking. Your non-committal attitude has led you down a playgirl lifestyle, never really settling. What happens when your new boss throws you a curveball, and as a result? You end up hopelessly involved with a Hollywood starlet.

A/N: I'm speeding up the timeline a little bit, so some of the next few chapters will leap forwards in the timeline. Bear with me :]

3.2K Word Count

Ch 10: I Pulled Off Your Wings, Then I Laughed

Jimmy knew that this was not going to be an easy go of it for you. In the many letters and correspondence between the two of you, you had let him know that you were constantly scared of one thing, and that was this character from your past showing back up. Now, that is what your entire company was staring down the barrel at. He knew that Waters affected you deeply. 

“Y/N, what happened?” He asked, knowing that there is more to this than just the job at hand. 

“He showed up at my apartment, Jim. And then followed me from MY HOME. He followed me from McCall, here. He has my number- in more ways than one. He has already called me twice. I don’t feel safe.” You felt small with the admission, but it was true. If there was one person you could be vulnerable with, it was Jimmy. Your normally stoic demeanor faltered, and he could see right though it. 

“Ok. I’ll keep tabs on him.” He looked at you, and rose from his seat. He walked over to you, placing his rough hand on your shoulder. “You better get your ass going, you’ll miss your morning meeting.” He said, looking down at the time on his watch. You looked down at your watch as well, jumping up when you realized it was already 8:30 and you hadn’t finished what you needed to before going to Scarletts. He laughed at your response, and walked out of your office. 

“That was quite the meeting.” Kris stated as she asked back into your office. “Is everything ok? I’m sorry for interrupting earlier.”

“Everything is fine. I just needed to go over some things with him, and give him a new assignment is all.”

“A new assignment? What assignment? I didn’t see anything in the books.” She asked, visibly confused by the change. 

“Kris, it’s fine. Just a temporary shift. No biggie. I have to go up to the job site today, so I need you to take care of things here. I also need you to look into the mystery car from yesterday.” You alluded to the fact that no answer had been provided on the black vehicle that followed you the majority of the way here. She nodded, before turning around and heading back to her office. You sat down, finishing the emails and tasks before you as quickly as you could, and switching the setting on your emails to forward them to Kris. Groaning as you looked at the time, you knew you would be late in the LA traffic to Scarletts house. Currently, you wouldn’t get there till 9:45 at the earliest- but she still hadn’t called to tell you she was leaving yet, so there was hope for you. 

You freshened up in the bathroom, reapplying some cologne, and grabbing your black suit jacket and slinging it over your shoulders. You weren’t sure if you would need it, but it was an unseasonably cool day for LA at the end of August. Equipped with your pistol on your hip, and your black sunglasses, you walked out of your office, typing the code into the lock, and made your way to the parking garage. Remote starting the truck, you sling a smaller black duffel onto the passenger seat, and walk around to your side, climbing into the lifted vehicle. You checked in the rearview, slicking your manicured eyebrows into the correct position, your gaze lingering on the bald area where the hair refuses to grow through the scar tissue. Plugging your phone into the truck, and begin driving towards the address in your navigation, you receive a phone call from the starlet herself. 

“Resolute Security, Y/L/N speaking.”

“You don’t have to say that every time, ya know. I know who I’m calling, and you know who I am.”

“In the name of professionalism, Ms. Johansson.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Scarlett. Please. I’m about to leave now, are you on your way?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m driving now.”

“Okay Y/N. I’ll be seeing you. Bye.” She hung up before you could say anything further. You thought about texting her to tell her no rush, that you were hitting traffic, but just decided to focus on the hour drive ahead of you. You really loathed the traffic here, making a drive that would normally take half an hour and easily doubling it was highly irritating. You turned up the music, knowing you could vent some of your frustrations into the air around you, singing the songs that reflected your feelings at the current time. 

As the drive neared its end, you were feeling slightly better after singing to your hearts content on the way to the north side of Calabasas. You cringed at the thought of how typical this was, but remembered the idiot you were going to be protecting someone from. You were pleasantly shocked when the directions took you through Calabasas proper, and up into the canyon, further north, and further and further away from the majority of the celebrity that fell below. The green truck rumbled up to a gatekeeper, you rolled your window down and gave the gentleman your information. He looked you over a few times, gave back your ID and waved you through. You made a mental note of changing that- it was way too easy to get into this neighborhood. You romped your way through the winding canyon roads, finally approaching the work in progress perched on top of the bluff, overlooking all of the city below, and looking straight towards the greater LA area. Parking the truck up near the house, you check your appearance once more, making sure your hair was how you wanted, and situating the necklaces on your tattooed chest. You shut the truck off, and hopped out, brushing yourself off and straightening your outfit out further. 

“Well, well, it isn’t nice to leave people waiting. But I can honestly say it was worth the wait.” The gravelly voice came from behind you, causing you to spin on your heel. Once you made eye contact, she began to run her eyes up and down your figure. 

“My apologies, traffic was a real bitch.” You respond, drinking in the appearance of a slightly shorter Scarlett, wearing white sneakers, torn light blue jeans, and a striped blue and white polo, with a grey sport coat. Her eyebrow was cocked as she watched you.

“I bet it was. Come on in, pardon the mess.” She said, grazing past you and heading straight for the house. The majority of the massive abode seemed to be done, but there were obvious odds and ends that needed to be taken care of. You found yourself looking at all the details, taking in the mid century styling of the structure. “Make yourself at home,” she motions towards a room that already has some furniture, dark walnut paneling and large overhead geometric lights. You sit on one of the chairs, allowing yourself to look out at the view of the Valley floor below. 

“Gorgeous house Scarlett.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Water? It’s bottled water.” She asked, her voice resonating from the area you resumed to be the kitchen. 

“Please.” She approached with a bottle of water, before sitting on the chair across from you, and removing her sunglasses. 

“For a woman of few words, I am surprised you wanted to talk, Y/N. I think this is the first time we’ve been able to sit and have a conversation, just us.” She says with a playing smirk on her face. 

“Yeah, it is. I don’t typically see my clients, so this is new.” You state, taking a large swig from the water bottle. You couldn’t help but notice the slight deflection on her face, showing a slight disappointment at your statement. 

“I’m surprised your assistant isn’t in tote,” she comes back cooly, trying hide some of the jealousy she felt towards the woman who saw you almost every day. 

“She’s a big girl, she has her own things she needs to do at the office.” You smirk over the water bottle, raising it to your lips once more. Scarletts gaze shifted from your face down, watching the muscles in your neck and collar flex as you drank. At this moment, you were glad your sunglasses were still on, hiding your amusement at her reactions. Once you were happy with the amount of water you had consumed, you set the bottle back down on the floor next to your chair. 

“Mmhmm, that she is. You said you wanted to talk to me in person about some things?” She asked, leaning forward towards you. 

“Yeah, actually,” you removed your glasses, allowing your full face to be visible. Scarlett quickly begin to look over every facet of your facade. “I wanted to ask you if you have had any reasons in particular, that you sought out more help than what you have currently.” You leaned back in the chair, holding your glasses with one arm resting on your lips. 

“I’m not really sure what you mean, Y/N.” Scarlett looked utterly confused by the question.

“I noticed you had quite the security detail already. Have there been any scenarios or events that made you feel your current security was not adequate enough?” You probe again, trying to leave the question more open to a longer answer. She leans back as well, taking the time to think to herself. “While you think about that, I’m going to take a brief walk around. I need to make a phone call.” You state, raising from the chair, and pretending not to hear her breathing shift as you leaned in her direction, exposing more of your chest for her to see. “I’ll be right back.” You slide the phone out of your pocket, texting Jim to see if he had been able to get any leads on Steve. You walk around the perimeter of the estate, looking at everything in a tactical, defensive manner. This house was a sitting duck, with hardly any covering foliage, but it did have neighbors just down the hill. This place was a strategic nightmare. Your phone buzzed, you looked down to see who it was from. 

10:23 AM  UNK- “I know you’re plotting the place out. Just know I will see everything.”

10:24 AM   JIM- “Yes, I have a bead on this slimy little fuck. He sure has been following you hard.”

10:25 AM   YOU- “Jim, he’s texting me, I’m at Scarletts.”

You cringed at the thought of this, and went back inside to discuss things further with Scarlett. She must have caught a slight change in your demeanor. 

“Everything ok, Y/N?” 

“Yeah, everything is.” You smile, faking it for the time being. “So, do you have an answer for me?”

“Yes and no,” she responded, wringing her hands together. You had noticed that she does this a lot, when you were doing your research for this project. You studied her body language in various interviews and tv spots to know when she is distressed, upset, or nervous would be crucial to knowing if something was going on. “I’ve play my fair share of interesting characters. Black Widow was one of my most popular. But playing a Russian spy can attract some unwarranted attention by the more… unsavory crowd.” She looked off towards the wall of windows before the both of you. “Up until recently it’s been manageable. As a celebrity, you get your occasional hate mail, but hey, that’s what assistants and PR is for, to go through the mail and sort out the negative.” She continued to play with her hands, spinning rings on her fingers, and tracing the tattoo on her right wrist. You resumed your place across from her, so you could watch the behavioral shifts, but also wanting to feel closer to her. “As of late, I’ve been pulled out of interviews mid-sentence, shuffled around like some secret service pet. I can no longer fulfill my obligations, and I no longer feel safe.” She looks down, just staring at her now still hands. “I constantly feel like someone I don’t want around is watching. I’m paranoid.”

“Scarlett,” gaining the weary gaze of the blonde from her hands. “When you say you feel like you’re being watched, have you ever noticed anyone lurking around, or any vehicles that don’t belong?” You had a feeling you knew this answer already, but she needed to be the one to tell you. “I am fully aware of the group that has been threatening you. Best case is to be fully transparent with me.” She looked directly into your eyes, hers slightly misty, holding back tears. She carefully wiped her eyes, trying not to mess up her makeup. 

“I always see a car hanging around, but never anyone with it. Like it’s taunting me. Just far enough away to make it seem like it’s there for something or someone else, but always where I am.”

“What does the car look like?”

“It’s black. But beyond that, I couldn’t tell you. I’m honestly terrible with cars.” She laughs, wiping her eyes again. “I have a picture of it in my phone.” The memory suddenly strikes her, and she searches through her phone for the photo. “Here. This is the one always around.” She hands you her phone which you confiscate to examine the photo. Not surprisingly, the vehicle she photographed was identical to the one that followed you out from Idaho. 

“Hmm… are you okay if I send this to my phone?” You ask her permission to forward the photo to your personal cell. 

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“It’s a Chevy Malibu, for the record. But they probably change the plates on it regularly to avoid detection.” You hand the phone back to her. “Any time you see it, try and get a photo, as long as it's safe.”

She nodded in response, a slight smile on her face. “Okay. I should have known you would know what kind of car it was.” You look at her with a confused expression. “I saw you leave the morning of the first meeting. You seem to have a very particular taste in cars.” She nodded out to your truck. You raised your eyebrow, and smirked. Your phone dinged at the receipt of the photo from Scarlett, and you forwarded it to Jimmy, typing a quick message that she’s been noticing it hanging around.

“If you mean fast and loud, then yes, yes I do.” You leaned back in the chair, laughing and crossing your right leg over the left. “I collect cars, actually.” She clicked her tongue, obviously pondering her next statement. 

“I would like to get to know the person who will be taking care of my safety for the unforeseen future.” She turned towards you, a nervous smile on her face. “I would imagine that this issue won’t go away over night, and I’d like to keep you around. Your crew has already been here installing so much more than I had anticipated, and it shows how much you care.” You hesitated, not knowing how to approach. You were not used to being face to face with your clients, particularly one of this… caliber. Sensing your hesitation, she visibly panicked. “But I totally understand if you won’t due to your professionalism, I just thought…“ Your laugh caught her off guard. She hadn’t seen you smile, or laugh, at all up to this point. 

“Scarlett?” You quirk your scarred eyebrow, leaning in her direction. You were letting your guard down a little at a time with the blonde. 

“Yes?”

“You don’t need to panic. It’s ok. I think that putting a person behind the client title helps. I would love to get to know you more, at least more than I’ve read.” You smirk at the last part, knowing that she probably didn’t realized you had done some homework. 

“You’ve read, huh? What have you read about me?” She asks, suddenly intrigued by the admission. “I should have known you would be the studious type.”

“That’s classified,” you wink.

“How on earth could it be classified when I’m who it’s about??” She laughed, questioning the deflection. 

“No, but seriously. I’ve read literally everything about you already. I know how much you bought this place for, that you’re not technically divorced or separated, but that your ‘ex’ and you are no longer together, all the way to how much money you’ve made every year you’ve been working. That top secret clearance gets me access to everything, Ms. Johansson.” You emphasize the last name, just to get a little bit more of a rise out of her. “But what I read and who someone really is, those are two different things. It would be nice to learn the things from the source, not just some government file on everything you have, have done, have had on paper. ”

“You must be a real hit at parties, Y/L/N.” She chuckled.

“Eh, that would require going to them. I don’t generally do that any more. I’ve made more enemies than friends in my line of work.”

“I can’t imagine why, it’s such a straightforward job to work with the government,” she quipped, rolling her eyes., grabbing her water bottle and taking a swig.

“Oh it totally is, very black and white. No wiggle room at all.” You snark back. She almost spit her water out at the comment. 

“Is that a sense of humor I detect, Y/N?” She laughed again, leaning again in your direction.

“Yeah, it’s in there, don’t get used to it though.” She rolled her eyes, leaning backward again. “However, I did want to discuss one other thing with you, Scarlett.”

“Ok, shoot.”

“With the understanding that you have seen a car hanging around, I want to give you some information. Not to scare you, but to empower you. The more you know, the better. Understood?” She nodded, eyebrow raised as is to question what could be coming next. “There are likely two people in that car you keep seeing. One of them is former military, and he- from everything we have investigated so far, is extremely unpredictable. ” Scarlett takes a deep breath, putting her face in her hands. 

“Is this supposed to make me feel any better? Because it doesn’t, Y/N.”

“It may not right now. But you have to know what you’re up against.”

“Well, Y/N, it sounds like your homework didn’t uncover the ‘fan’ that has been showing up to all my appearances.” This caught you off guard. There was nothing in the file or anything you read about a recurring fan- typically the fans all over the Internet pick something like that apart.

“You’re correct. I haven’t heard of this, so please, discuss further. I need to know these things. You okay if I record what happened?” You grabbed your phone,  waving it in her direction.

“Yeah, if it helps keep this guy away from me.”

“Let’s get everything going, see what we can take care of for you.” You set the phone on the middle of the coffee table, signaling for her to start with your hands. 

(CHAPTER 11)

[fcble]

limbo for andrew!

LIMBO - A time my muse acted faithless and disloyal.

In which Andrew receives a tempting proposition. August 2024. 1.3k. A direct follow up to this piece! Would definitely recommend reading that first.

Jinguk's business card haunts Andrew. It occupies the majority of his waking thoughts, and even some of his sleeping ones. He reflects on the events of the meeting, trying to figure out exactly what he did to catch Jinguk's attention.

The only response he received from Jaeseop regarding Jinguk read, Sorry I didn't tell you about him! I didn't want to worry you (｡•́︿•̀｡).

Andrew is considerably more worried now than he was a few weeks ago. He fiddles with the card as he works in the living room, and a thumb-shaped imprint begins to emerge over the Danyoung Group's logo. No one asks him about it, despite Intak constantly reorganizing his figurine collection, and Kiyoung's daily coming and goings.

Wearing down the ink isn't enough, he decides. He has to try and do something about it. Kiyoung is out, like he tends to be, and Intak is asleep. Andrew is spending more time listening to the new Parannoul album than working, which makes it as good of a time as it's ever going to be.

He leans forward on the couch seat and dials Jinguk's number. The call connects almost immediately. He expects to hear a secretary or a personal assistant. He's greeted instead by Jinguk's velvet baritone. "Andrew. I expected your call earlier."

Andrew is thrown off immediately. Jinguk knows his phone number? He answers his own phone? He wanted Andrew to call him? He settles for a generic, non-committal response. "I was occupied."

"That's Taein-ssi for you." His assessment of Andrew's boss is accurate and matter of fact.

The sound of a pen clicking and the pages of a notebook flipping are audible over the line. "My lunch is clear today," Jinguk continues. "I'll see you at noon. My office is on the fifteenth floor."

There are no questions or requests in any of his statements. Jinguk speaks in the tone of a man used to getting his way, someone who won't take no for an answer.

"Of course," Andrew responds, trying to regain his balance. He doesn't bother to try and counter Jinguk's steamrolling of the conversation. It works for him. He didn't want to plan anything himself. He glances at the time on his computer. Fifteen minutes to eleven. He needs an outfit. Somehow, he thinks his current t-shirt and sweats combo is not going to cut it in front of Jinguk.

"I trust you'll be able to find your way to the Danyoung Group's headquarters."

That too is a statement, rather than a question.

"I don't see any issues with that."

"Very well." Jinguk's response is immediate, and the line clicks off.

Andrew doesn't have time to think about that conversation. He's too busy scrambling to find his way to the Danyoung Group's building.

An hour later, he finds Jinguk's office. Once he made it to the fifteenth floor of the skyscraper it became easy, because Jinguk's office seems to be the fifteenth floor. The elevator opens to a wide, open space with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. From what Andrew can see, the area includes a kitchen, a ping-pong table, a foosball table, at least three TVs, and what looks like a salad bar in another area separate from the kitchen. There are a few desks facing in the general direction of the elevators, but they're all empty.  In fact, most of the room is empty, with the exception of a lone figure sitting on a leather couch near the windows. Jinguk.

Andrew's footsteps echo in the otherwise empty space, and Jinguk looks up from his laptop. He gestures for Andrew to come closer—a bit impatiently, if Andrew were to judge.

"Andrew-ssi. It's good to see you again."

Andrew gingerly takes a seat across from him. "Likewise."

Jinguk checks the time on his watch, a surprisingly slender and unobtrusive silver piece that probably costs more money than Andrew will ever have in his life. "We have twenty-seven minutes. I assume you have questions. Ask whatever you'd like."

Andrew gets the impression that Jinguk cancelled something more important than him. And the impression that no one knows who he is, besides someone important enough to have an entire half hour of Jinguk's time. He starts with the most pressing question he has.

"Are you headhunting me?" he asks bluntly.

Jinguk doesn't laugh at that, but Andrew would like to think he almost does. He smiles a sort of half-smile instead, like Andrew's insolence is faintly amusing, not an idiotic annoyance. "I would encourage you to seek other opportunities. I am willing to provide some of them, should you be interested."

"I extended my contract," Andrew says. "I have three more years with Taein-nim."

His words might as well be paper, with the way Jinguk easily shreds through them. "There's no issue there. Should you choose to leave, I will assume responsibility for any monetary repercussions."

It's all sounding a little too good to Andrew. It is disconcerting to hear Jinguk reduce the years of his career down to a number, some figure he can simply pay off. But then again, that's all an idol is, isn't it? He knew that when he first signed his contract.

"Why me?"

Jinguk regards him carefully. "You're a smart young man. You know you'll never reach your full potential in Taein-ssi's company."

Andrew considers it. What keeps him at Zenith, other than his contract? And Fable. He can't leave Fable. Rationally, he knows the PR nightmare that would cause. In a more calculated manner, he also knows that whatever solo career he can scrape together from the ashes of that disaster would be a poor, shoddy, imitation of Fable's popularity. No amount of money will buy his way out of that, contrary to what Jinguk thinks. And as much as he hates to admit it, he knows, too, that Jinguk is right. His creative direction and his music have both helped Fable grow—flourish, even—but as an individual, he's treading water. He's spent the past couple of years stagnant.

He stalls for time, probing the limits of Jinguk's generosity, since he's far from forth-coming. "I'll be able to continue my work as an artist." A statement, not a request. He thinks he understands Jinguk's modus operandi, so he responds in the same way. His music is the one thing he can't give up on. He can't sideline himself to be a songwriter or producer either. He likes the spotlight and the attention too much for that.

Jinguk nods. "We are more than capable of providing all the support you'd need. If you're interested in an American career as well, that can be arranged."

The prospect of going home is the best one he's heard all day. It's tempting, to cut loose and throw his lot in with Jinguk, like he did seven years ago with Taein. He plunged right into the deep end, with nothing but his wits and desperation. He could do it again.

"Forgive me for asking," he says, "but how does this benefit you or your company?"

Jinguk's smile seems to imply that he approves of Andrew's line of questioning, like some sort of reward for being on the right track. He straightens up in his seat and says, "At a certain level of power and social influence, such direct bargains become unnecessary. Think of it as altruism, and the Danyoung Group as patrons of the arts."

Andrew writes kpop idol music. He's not sure how much culture he's contributing to.

"I'd like some time to think about it," he says finally. He's asked his questions and received some answers, but he's unable to tell if Jinguk was entirely truthful. For some reason, it seems like there's more to the story than he's telling Andrew.

Jinguk dips his head in a curt nod. "I'll give you a month. I expect to have an answer from you then."

There isn't much to say to that, so Andrew agrees. A month isn't long enough for him to make a decision of this scale, but it'll have to do. The part he's left with now is the hardest one: making the choice.

[astroismypassion]

https://www.tumblr.com/astroismypassion/728163964374106112/hello-can-i-ask-your-opinion-about-this-composite

Thank you very much for your answer! I only recently found out the time of his birth, so the composite has changed a little. If you don't mind, can u say what you think now 🖤

Hi!

I hope you are doing well.

I would say it's unique, it's cool that you have Sagittarius over the 1st house as well not just Capricorn. And that you have Pluto in the 1st at a Taurus degree, I feel it adds *spice*. You might go for the long run, it's a slow burn type of connection IF you allow it. If you rush things might go sour earlier than both of you have imagined. I think if the Sun person is a man, things might be happening for the first time for him. Like a lot of them. Maybe you are the first person they have a partnership with or the first person they move in with. I like that you have Capricorn over the 1st house, the relationship might be approved by parents. But I also feel like Sag influence over the 1st house could point you met in university or just that you have a lot of fun together. You could even travel together later. You might also be a bit competitive with one another, just a tad bit, like friendly competition, like wanting to do well in board games. But yeah, I also feel Sagittarius here, you might actually consider marriage with this person, but one of you could be a bit non-committal at some point or want to explore the field still. Yeah, confirmation, Libra over the 10th house, there could be delays, challenges in marriage, you might also post pone it or decide to get married later in life. Maybe you started off as friends? But there could have been issues in really getting partnership off the ground with that Libra over the 10th house. You are likely to be seen as couple goals or people envy your connection, bond. Make sure that people don't end up being too noisy and invested in your partnership. You boast about each other a lot. You smile a lot when together. Overall, I like it. But that Aquarius Moon at a Gemini degree can point to the fact that you lose feelings sometimes randomly for the person. Like you might also see them as a really good friend at times. You might also have a dramatic ending. Like you might not end the connection on good terms, if anything were to happen. You might become enemies. You might both see each other as very selfish at times. Wow, this was long. Sorry I got carried away.

@astroismypassion

[tarotmundomonde]

I'm the one that sent an 'ask' for can you help me with a reading?cuz I really need itSo firstly.im sorry if this topic makes you uncomfortable or something but I want to know When I was join your free reading before like few months ago when I was asked is he love me or something like that?then you answer my ask on dec.Your answer is definitely true,like almost 100% true like he doesn't care about me,he knows my feelings towards him,he know I'm stalking his social media,he hanging up me,he intends for me as an 'option'.idk why he did this to me😭I even confessed my feelings to him but he replied that he's just enjoyed being friends with me.I used to think that he's non committal type of person,fear of commitment .but no ,I'm wrong .I saw on his bio account that mention a girl,I mean he has gf😭like I'm so broken heart.im so wrong about him.It feels like I've been fooled

But I can't deny my heart that I just want him not someone else.my mind says that he's not good for me,not worth it for me, he's lil bit immature,redflag.but my heart wants him so badly😭I can't with this feelings

I still hope he can love me someday.im sorry maybe it's little bit rude but I used to got a reading from another readers before that he's made for me,that i already knew it that I have great intuition, he has genuine feelings for me but now he's focusing on his career and doesn't want to rush to in relationships with me.but in a reality he said just enjoy being friends with me when I was confessed my feelings and now he has gf..so I'm so confused with that fact.

Can you help me please 🥺 can you do deeper reading for me pls since you gave me the clearest reading.

i want tho know are we really meant to be together?.I really want know anything you'll get from this ,I really don't mind if you give me harsh reading .I'm so hopeless 😭

It's like my feedback but also I ask for a help (again) if you don't mind.my initials is i ♑, he's k ♋

Pls privately answer,don't publicly this ask

Thank you so much .have a nice day

I don't want to risk the ask getting eaten, so I'm not answering privately, but don't worry.

To be honest, I don't think a tarot reading would help you. You already have the answer, he knows what he wants. But what we could do instead is check your birth chart. We could see, if you are going through something at the moment, if you are going through some lessons in love at the moment. In that way we can see what could help with your current situation. If you want me to check, simply send your birth chart here. You can hide your birth data and name, if you want to.

[southern-belle-outcasts]

The sound of his footsteps was even off. How the hell was she even hearing Remy's steps, he so often snuck up on her unless he was making an point of making noise as to not startle her. His tiredness was underscored by the yawn and the face he made her and she shrugged in acceptance. Rogue couldn't really speak on how it affected him, she had nothing to compare it to having been minimally affected even as a child.

"Ah didn't say that wasn't how it worked, Ah suggested it for that reason," she protested, but it wasn't actually annoyance. Just a smidge of defensiveness, and maybe there was that little bit of apology that she had normally struggled with and was now all too familiar with lately. Because that was at least something she could do. I'm sorry. So. Many. Times. Too many times. So often it was becoming reflexive, although the emptiness wasn't from the repetition. That had a far more deeper source that she wasn't trying to delve into right now. That was why she had said the movie they both enjoyed, right? Simple cartoon familiarity to stuff feelings to quietly. What little feelings she had anymore...

Were he to have simply pulled her in, maybe Rogue wouldn't have struggled so much. But how did she answer? Did she lie? He would know it was a lie. Did he expect her to lie? Want her to lie? He was tired. He was clearly done with her attitude and the day, did she add more to it? But if she said yes, wasn't it at least partially true? She felt better than she had all day, at least from the bath and being home. The comfort of his closeness helped some too. But it also reminded her how off it felt. How he didn't trust her with Aramis, was frustrated with her putting herself down. She could forget things she didn't want to, but the smack of the steering wheel, or the guarded tension when she took the baby...no, that she remembered. But it was deserved so she wasn't even mad. How could she be?

Rather than immediately answer, she nuzzled into his neck. Maybe that was more to avoid him looking her in the face than anything, but it was comforting. Somewhat. "Ah guess." A non-committal answer. Which might as well have been a no. Would likely spur him to pry, if he even had the energy to. Or get pissy he wasn't being properly answered if not. The amendment was quiet, as though if she only barely said it maybe he would just ignore it.

"...no. Ah don't know how t'be good anymore. It's nothin' you've done Ah just feel..." She struggled for a word and couldn't find one. Was numb really the proper word for it? She felt enough pain it wasn't really numb, although there was plenty of emptiness amongst the guilt and shame, topped off with plenty of frustration that someone with inhuman capabilities couldn't get her shit together.

She gave up trying to find words and shrugged the free shoulder, fingers seeking his out of habit. She wanted to say it didn't matter, or it wasn't going to be solved right now so don't talk about it, but would that start another spat? So she just bit her lip and sighed through her nose, only barely looking at the screen through her periphery.

Remy felt a sting that seemed to smack him in the face behind his eyes hearing that he had done enough. How could that be remotely true? He almost wanted to scoff back in her face as he tried to contain the physical reaction he had to being emotionally damaged. He couldn’t even focus on the softness of her words or that she was wearing his clothes, sweet little things he would have killed for just hours ago, but were overlooked in the exhaustion of constantly trying his best. He could only dwell on the feeling of failure that accompanied every action, that somehow his best was never going to cut it.

He’d done enough? He could have laughed at that. If that were true, their family wouldn’t already be broken and crumbling in his hands. If it were true, he would be able to notice something positive and see his own efforts paying off in the small ways they were both trying. Remy could only see it from his own skewed, pained perspective and it felt like the ground was eroding beneath him. He could only nitpick at his own hand in making every problem bigger and blame himself for wanting too much. In his heart, he knew he had never deserved a family but he couldn’t stop yearning for one.

He raised the mug to his lips and took a slow sip, feeling tired down into the marrow of his bones. His steps thudded a little heavier on the floor as he walked around to his side of the bed., his shoulders still drawn down and inward. He sank down onto the mattress, grimacing with his back turned at Anna’s next question as he set the cup aside. Another sigh heaved from his chest, clearly another thing for Anna to read into, before he turned his face to the side to respond.

“Don’t worry none. I doubt it’s gon’ do much an’how,” he answered, yawning and pointing to his own face with his brows raised. He was exaggerating, but the point was made. “See, I’m still plenty tired. It’ll kick in later when I need it,” he murmured and relaxed into his pillow.

“ ‘sides, I have seen it d’at many times cuz I like it. D’at how comfort films work, non?” he added with a snort and pressed play to start the movie. He let his eyes glaze over a bit as the music started, sinking into the familiarity and letting his mind wander for a second so he could reset. He should ask her to get closer and snuggle up, but what if that was the wrong thing? What if that just started another tiff neither of them had the energy for? He tried to reason that he shouldn’t be deterred or discouraged. They were married. They had a baby. If she said no to snuggling this one time it wouldn’t undo years of their relationship. Realistically, Remy knew these were facts. But the fragility of his heart told him not to try out of fear. God, how his fears had started to grow in the past two weeks. They had grown and metastasize from his head to his heart and now encircled every whim and desire. He wrestled within himself silently as the credits came to a close and decided on throwing his arm gracelessly over the back of her shoulders.

“You good, chère?”

[sheridans-dynamos]

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Pairing: Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: A silly party game forces the truth to come out about you and Remus’ feelings for each other

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Sorry I haven’t posted in a while! Life’s been a lot lately, and I didn’t have much motivation to write. But I hope you guys enjoy this! It diverted a bit from the request it was based on, but the core is still what was asked lol, so hopefully whoever requested it still likes it!

"You're coming to the party tonight, right?" Lily asked you as you walked side by side in the corridor, on your way to charms class. 

"Oh, I don't know, Lils…" You hugged your books tighter to your chest. You weren't sure if going would be a good idea. You couldn't really trust yourself and how you might act when alcohol was involved, what you might reveal.

"Oh come on, Y/N! You can't bail out! And it's not even an actual party! It'll just be our little gang, we'll hang out in the boys' dorm room, have some drinks and play some games, it'll be fun!" Lily insisted, doing her best to convince you. It wasn't the size of the gathering that was worrying you. Or the fun you would or wouldn't have. No, what was concerning to you was the presence of one specific person.

"What're you lovely ladies talking about? I heard somethin' about a party." You felt an arm being slung over your shoulder, and you and Lily both stopped walking as a face appeared from behind, between the two of you. You turned your face slightly to look at the man who was making himself quite comfortable, leaning on the both of you.

"I was just trying to convince Y/N to come tonight," Lily answered Sirius, shaking her head at his antics. 

"Convince?" The grin on Sirius' face fell down as he turned his head back to you. Lily took the opportunity to disentangle herself from him, taking a step away. "What's she got to convince you about?! Of course you're coming! You can't leave your ol' pals hanging!" He ruffled your hair a little, causing you to groan as you shoved him away, eliciting a laugh from him. 

"I'm behind on my potions homework, I have to study tonight, don't have time for a party," you responded, giving a non-committal shrug. 

"That's bull," Sirius retorted. "There's no way you're behind on any assignments. After all, you're as annoyingly smart and bookish as Moony." He shot you a grin and you rolled your eyes. 

"Thanks." You heard aforementioned Moony grumble from behind you, and you turned to face him, not having noticed his presence until now. 

"What! I said smart." The teasing grin never left Sirius' face as he looked at his friend, and Remus made a humming sound in response as he walked over to you two.

"He's right, though. You should come tonight," Remus said as he looked at you. His hand went to scratch at the back of his head and his eyes went to the floor, seeming to hesitate before he added, "It won't be the same without you."

His little sheepish smile was contagious, and you couldn't help the smile of your own that appeared on your face. 

Merlin, you were already too far gone either way, so what harm could one little night of fun really do? 

"Alright, alright. I'll come," you caved, and he looked back up to you, his smile growing. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep yourself from melting on the spot. 

"Wow, do you see that, Lily? You and me, we bust our arses trying to convince her, and a few pretty words from Moony and she's in? We see who's your favorite, Y/N, I'm wounded." Sirius brought his hand to his chest in a dramatic gesture, causing Lily to laugh. 

"Oh, shove off, Pads," you retorted, feeling your cheeks heating up at his words. He wasn't wrong, maybe you should've at least pretended that Remus wanting you there didn't change everything instantly. But, too late for that now. "I'll see you idiots tonight. Now I have to get to class or I will be behind on homework," you stated as you left them behind, walking quickly towards the classroom, before you embarrassed yourself any further.

~

Laughter resonated around the room as James made a fool of himself showing off his dance moves whilst standing on his bed. 

"Oh, I know what we should do now!" Marlene exclaimed, in between fits of laughter. All eyes turned to her as she grinned mischievously, and you felt anticipation at what she was about to suggest. "Let's play a few rounds of seven minutes in heaven!" 

You groaned as you let yourself fall from your sitting position into laying down fully on the floor. "Oh come on, what are we, thirteen?" you questioned. Although you couldn't deny, you felt some excitement at the idea. Especially if you were to be paired with a certain someone.

"Ah c'mon, don't be such a prude, Y/N! I, for one, think it's a fantastic idea, Marls!" James said as he jumped down from the bed, coming to sit down beside you. 

"Oh really, James?" You raised yourself back into a sitting position, elbowing him lightly in the stomach as you continued, "Even if it so happens that Lily should land in a closet for seven minutes with let's say… Sirius?" Instantly, James' face turned red, and you couldn't keep the grin off your face as your blow landed right where you wanted it to.

"Right… maybe it isn't such a great idea after all…" He looked sheepish, all interest in the game now lost.

"Who's the prude now, Prongs," you laughed, receiving a glare in response which only made you laugh harder.

"Yeah, Prongs, thought you said this was a 'fantastic' idea." Remus joined in on the fun, a teasing smile on his face.

"Oh don't get me started, you. How should you like it if-"

"Alright, alright!" Remus cut James off, raising his hands in surrender. "That's quite enough." Remus' smile was completely gone now, replaced by a nearly panicked expression.

"Hmm. That's what I thought," James grumbled. Your eyes went back and forth from James to Remus in confusion, utterly puzzled by what had just occurred. 

You were about to ask about it when Sirius interrupted the now tense silence. "Alright then, shall we play, or shall we all brood?" You weren't so keen on letting that little exchange drop, but you didn't have time to say anything before Marlene jumped up to grab a pen, pieces of paper and a hat to put all your names in. 

"Alright so I'm pretty sure we all know how to play already, but still, a quick review of the rules. Everyone's name will be in this hat right here." She jiggled the hat in her hand for effect. "We'll draw two names out of it, and whoever it is, they'll be locked into the closet, and they'll have seven minutes to do whatever they please with or to each other. Is everyone ready?"

You all nodded, some more hesitantly than others. 

Marlene plunged her hand into the hat, shaking it once more before drawing a first name out. "And our first contestant will be… Y/N!" All eyes landed on you, some teasing grins sent your way, and Sirius let out a low whistle. You gulped, nervousness settling in. Out of all the eyes on you, you felt one gaze especially piercing.  You looked over to Remus, but as soon as your eyes connected, he quickly looked away. You shook yourself from where your mind instantly went, choosing instead to focus back on the situation at hand, not what might happen if you were infinitely lucky and the next name drawn were his. Even then, nothing would happen. That was only the stuff of your dreams, nothing more.

"And the person joining her… Oo, Sirius," Marlene exclaimed with a grin. You felt your stomach drop at the disappointment, but made sure to keep the expression off your face. Sirius looked to you, shooting you a wink. He rose from his position, coming towards you and extending a hand.

"Well, shall we go have some fun my lady?" 

You couldn't help your eyes from going to Remus, and you saw that his eyes were already fixed on you. You couldn't quite read the expression on his face, but the longing you felt at merely looking at him made you turn away, taking Sirius' hand and allowing him to bring you to your feet. 

"Yes, we shall," you answered, trying your best to appear calm and collected.

~

    You'd been sitting there for about 15 seconds, both leaning against the wall of the closet, looking at each other apprehensively. 

"Look, Sirius-"

"Y/N, I-"

     You both chuckled, the tension still heavy. 

"Go ahead," you said, but Sirius shook his head, gesturing to you.

"No, you first, please."

"Alright… Well, don't get me wrong, I do find you attractive. But… I just- don't feel comfortable doing anything with you. I'm sorry, it's not about you, it's just that I have fee- anyways, I'd rather we just chat, if that's alright with you." You winced at what you almost let slip, now was not the time for that.

"Oh, thank bloody Merlin," Sirius exclaimed, letting his head rest against the wall.

"Wow, alright then. I'll try not to be offended," you said, only half joking. 

Sirius' head shot back up as he realized what he'd said. "What? No, Y/N, c'mon, you know you're absolutely smashing. But, not only are you one of my closest friends… I could never do that to Moony, he would-" He fell quiet, looking away quickly as the weight of his words hit both of you.

"To Moony? What would Moony care if you and I hooked up?" you questioned, your eyes wide.

"What? Moony? Who said anything about Moony?" Sirius played dumb, causing you to glare at him.

"Pads. Don't fuck with me. Why did you say you couldn't do that to Moony?" 

He avoided your eyes, looking up at the ceiling before closing his eyes and letting a deep sigh escape him.

You allowed him a few seconds, but the shock and curiosity made your already poor patience non-existent. "Sirius!" you hissed, slapping his chest, which made him reopen his eyes. "Spit it out, will you? We're stuck in here for a few minutes still, and anyways, you're not getting out of here until you tell me." You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at him expectantly.

"Oh, Merlin, save me," he groaned. "Remus is in love with you, you idiot. And messing around with your best friend's girl, even if she's not actually his girl, is a dick move, even for me." 

"Remus is- what." You couldn't even begin to process what Sirius had just said. It made no sense. 

"Oh please, it's obvious to anyone with eyes that he's head over heels in love with you. You cannot possibly be so dense as to not know that." Sirius looked at your face, what he could see of it in the dark, and the true shock he saw there left him speechless.

As for you, you'd been speechless ever since he said it. That Remus was in love with you. 

"Dammit, he's gonna kill me. Y/N, say something, would you?" Sirius' hand landed on your arm, making you blink slowly. 

You shook your head, refusing to let yourself get excited by what had to be Sirius' cruelest prank to date. "No, no it's not possible." You shook your head once more, looking away from him. 

"Why ever not?" he asked incredulously.

"Honestly, Sirius." You turned back to face him, his face the portrait of indignation. "This is not a matter to joke about, it's just plain cruel. I know you had no way of knowing-"

"That you're madly in love with Moony?" he interrupted with a grin, causing your mouth to shut quickly, the shock once again evident on your face. 

"What?" Was the only thing you could think to say.

"Come on, Y/N, everyone knows you two are mad for each other, it's quite sickening, actually. The only people who don't seem to know it are you two morons. You love him, he loves you. Now do us all a favor and go do something about it." 

"No, no there's no way! I would know, you have to be mistaken. We've spent so much time together, just the two of us. If he truly had feelings for me, he would've done something about it by now! I simply cannot believe this, Sirius," you huffed. You wanted more than anything to believe him, but you didn't think you could handle the disappointment you'd feel when it proved to be false.

Sirius laughed. "Please, you know him. He'd never make a move, he thinks he doesn't deserve you, that he's not worthy, and because of that he can't see the way you look at him."

You frowned at him, even though he could barely see your face in the dark. "And how, exactly, do I look at him?" you questioned.

"Like the sun shines out of his ass, that's how," Sirius replied plainly, as you gaped at him. "And he looks at you like that, too. Really, you're the smartest two out of us lot, and somehow you're the most idiotic when it comes to something that's quite literally staring you right in the face. You both exhaust me," he exclaimed dramatically, letting himself slide down to the ground until he was laying down. 

"I- I wish I could believe it, Sirius, truly. It's everything I've hoped for for as long as I can remember. But I can't take that chance, I can't risk making a fool of myself if he doesn't feel the same. I can't risk losing our friendship."

"Oh, blimey. I can't take this anymore. Did you not see the way he glared at me when my name was taken out of the hat? If looks could kill, I wouldn't be here right now having this dreadful conversation. He's jealous out of his mind right now, probably counting down the minutes until we finally get out of here." 

You frowned at him. "You really think so?" 

"I know so, my dear. And in fact, I think I've got just the way to prove it to you." The grin that appeared on his face made your stomach turn, anticipating whatever mischief he was about to get up to. 

You moved back a bit as he quickly brought himself back into a sitting position, observing him carefully as you said, "And what would that be?" 

He didn't grant you a response, instead banging the back of his head quite hard against the wall, hard enough for it to be audible to the people on the other side of the door. "Oh, yes, yes Y/N, just like that!" Sirius exclaimed loudly, letting out a lewd moan as he banged his head once more. "Yes!"

You brought your hand over his mouth, silencing him, as you looked at him, your eyes wide with horror. "What on earth are you doing?" you hissed, feeling absolutely mortified at what your friends must all be thinking right now. 

His hand came up to the one you had covering his mouth, and you hesitated as he tried to pry it off, not trusting what would come out of his mouth next. 

"WhaIamdoinis-" You took your hand off when you realized he was actually trying to speak, not making a fool of himself, and you, yet again. "Thank you, as I was saying, what I am doing is proving to you once and for all that Moony is into you." He grinned once more, seemingly not the least bit embarrassed by his display. Not that that surprised you.

"How is this gonna prove anything?" you asked dubiously.

"Because, my dear Y/N, I can guarantee that Moony is just on the other side of this door right now, absolutely beside himself with jealousy. He's probably gonna kill me the second I step out and won't speak to me for a week, but you know what, it'll be completely worth it if it gets you to accept the facts before you." The smile that wouldn't leave his face made you want to smack him. But, you had to admit, you were curious to see if he would be right. He did seem awfully sure of himself, not that that was much different from any other day. 

You leaned against the wall, your arms crossed over your chest as you looked at him. "Hmm. We'll see, I suppose." You tried to keep your expression annoyed, but you couldn't help the small smile that was trying to break through at the idea that Remus might really return your affections. That seeing you, or more so hearing you, with another man would make him jealous.

"Yes, we will. Well, you will, I'm not sure I'll be alive long enough to see anything," he replied, poking your leg with his foot, causing the smile you were fighting to finally appear. 

You heard a knock on the door a few seconds later, followed by Lily's voice. "Are you decent?"

"Of course," you laughed. The door opened and you squinted at the sudden light, slowly getting back on your feet to exit the closet and join the rest of the group. Your eyes searched for the one person that mattered, the one person who's reaction held any meaning. But as your eyes scanned the room rapidly a few times, you realized he was nowhere to be found. 

Your face fell with disappointment as you walked towards your friends, Sirius following close behind.

"Well, that was quite the-" Sirius was interrupted by James smacking the back of his head, quite hard. 

"What the bloody hell's the matter with you, Pads? How could you do that to Moony?" James looked truly angry at his friend, which wasn't a common occurrence. They annoyed each other all the time, but for him to be genuinely mad, it took a lot. "And Y/N, I thought- we all thought- oh nevermind that. You," he said, pointing to Sirius once again, "are truly an asshole, d'you know that?" 

Sirius raised up his hands in surrender. "Hey, it's not what you think, alright? Just let me-" 

"Sure it isn't," James cut him off. "I can't believe you'd do this, Pads." 

"Whe- where is Remus?" you asked in a small voice, not trusting yourself to speak louder than that. 

"He was already having a hard enough time watching the clock tick by with you two in there, but then when Pads starting moaning like an idiot over whatever the fuck you were doing to him, he couldn't take it anymore, he got up and ran out of the room. Merlin knows where he went," James answered you. The anger hadn't gone from his face and from his voice. He seemed more angry at Sirius than you, but you'd never seen him look at you with such disappointment in his eyes.

You made your way to the door, you didn't know what you'd say to Remus once you found him, but you knew you had to go now, and make this situation right, one way or the other. Hurting Remus was the last thing you wanted. And even if it hadn't been your idea, he was still in pain because of you, and you couldn't have that. 

Before leaving, you turned to your friends. "It really isn't what you all think. Please, give Sirius a chance to explain," you told them, turning the doorknob and walking out into the corridor, intent on finding the man you loved and making things right.

~

You didn't have to go too far to find him, as he was seated on a chair in the common room, close by the now nearly extinguished fire. No one else was present, as it was quite late. 

His eyes were fixed on the fire, and he seemed to be worlds away, not noticing you at all as you approached him slowly.

"Rem?" you spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the night. That seemed to get him out of his own head, and he turned slowly to face you. 

"Y/N? What are you doing down here? Shouldn't you be-" He stopped himself, waving what he was about to say off with his hand before turning his gaze back to the fire. 

"Shouldn't I be what?" you asked, your voice hesitant.

"Nevermind," he huffed. You could hear it in his tone that he was angry. Maybe not at you, but he couldn't hide it, even though he tried.

"Remus, why are you down here, all by yourself?" You already knew the answer, or at least thought you knew, but you needed to hear it from him.

"You really don't know why?" He wouldn't look at you. If he had, he probably would've seen all he needed to on your face.

"I-" you started, but he didn't seem to hear you, lost in his own thoughts once more.

"Of course not, why would you?" he said bitterly. 

"Rem, I can see that you're angry-"

He shot up and out of his chair then, finally looking at you as he exclaimed, "Of course I'm bloody angry! How could he fucking do this to me?!" He was nearly shouting now, his face full of raw emotion. It broke your heart to know that he was in so much pain because of you. Over something that didn't even happen. You reached out with your hand, taking his in yours and interlacing your fingers. He looked down at your joined hands with shock in his eyes. 

He took a few steadying breaths before slowly taking his hand away from yours to let himself fall back into the chair.

"I couldn't stand it, Y/N. I couldn't stand it when you went in there with him… I was counting the minutes until it would be over. But then I heard him, we all heard him, and I had half a mind to break that door down and tear him into pieces. James had to hold me back. So I got out of there. I couldn't stand it, Y/N, I just couldn't stand it…" His voice got quieter as he spoke, anger being replaced by sadness, which made you feel even worse than before. His face was buried in his hands. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shouted. It's… it's not your fault, you're allowed to do whatever you please, with whomever-"

"Remus," you cut him off, having come to kneel in front of his chair, your hand resting on his knee to get his attention. "I have never, nor would I ever, do anything with Sirius. I don't feel anything of that sort for him. There's…" You took a breath, trying to force yourself to say the words. "There's only one person I want, and it's not Sirius." 

His hands left his face and he looked at you. You could see that tears had welled up in his eyes and it made it hard to fight your own. "But I heard you- we all heard you… Y/N, you don't have to lie to me to spare my feelings, I understand that I never had a chance, especially if there's someone else you do fancy-" His speech was abruptly interrupted when your lips came crashing down on his. 

He let out a small shocked gasped, but was quick to return the kiss. You let your hands travel up his chest, one stopping at his shoulder, with the other one going to tangle itself up in his hair as you brought him closer to you. 

His arm went around your waist, pulling you up onto his lap, with you straddling him.

The kiss seemed to last forever, and it was everything you'd imagined and more, despite the circumstances. 

You took a few seconds to catch your breath, your forehead resting against Remus'.

"I don't- I don't understand," he breathed. 

You pulled your head back slightly to be able to look at him properly, but made no move to disentangle yourself from him further than that. 

"What you heard, my darling, was Sirius acting like a bloody fool to make you jealous and to prove to me that my feelings for you weren't unrequited." 

"But I thought that…" 

"Yes, because he wanted you to think that. Because I didn't believe him when he told me you loved me, and that was the best idea that moron had to convince me. Although, I suppose it did work…" You couldn't help the small smile that formed on your face at the thought of what had just happened. Yes, Sirius was an idiot, but he was responsible for this situation you now found yourself in. 

Remus began to smile as well as he looked at you, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. "I never thought I'd get to do this outside of my dreams," he whispered under his breath, a look of awe on his face.

"What, do you dream about me, Remus?" you said in a teasing tone, but the thought made your smile wider.

"Only every night, my darling," he said softly, bringing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. 

You sighed contently against his mouth as the kiss broke. "Maybe we should head back upstairs, before someone comes."

"Is that really what you want?" he asked as he pulled you closer to him, settling you into a more comfortable position, cuddled up to him.

"It's the last thing I want, I wish we could just stay here forever, just you and me. But our friends might start to get worried if we don't turn up soon. James was really mad at Sirius, and everyone was concerned about you."

"Screw 'em, I couldn't care less right now." His hand was tracing little patterns onto your skin, and it made it hard for you to concentrate on anything, let alone argue in favor of joining your friends and leaving the comfort of his arms.

"You don't mean that," you protested, despite finding that you quite agreed with him in that moment.

"Oh, I absolutely do. All I care about is-"

"Ha! I told you this would work, Y/N! I knew it'd get your head out of your arses!" 

You both startled at the loud voice coming from the stairs, turning your heads to find Sirius there, grinning from ear to ear. 

"Once again, my genius plan worked out and everyone is happy thanks to me." The cockiness in his voice made you groan in annoyance. He always had to be so dramatic.

"Pads," Remus gritted out.

"Hmm?" Sirius hummed questioningly, the proud smile never leaving his face.

"If you don't get the hell out of my sight right this second, you're a dead man. Actually no, you're a dead man, regardless. But if you stay here, I'll pick my favorite out of all the ways I've imagined I could kill you, and I'm going to enact it." He spoke with dead calm. You really didn't want to be Sirius right now. 

But the man only laughed it off, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, don't bite my head off, Moony. James already did that for you. And plus, my plan worked, didn't it? If it weren't for me, you two would still be dancing around your feelings for each other when we graduate, and I couldn't have that. If I'd known all it took to get you two together was causing a little scene, putting some… images in your head, I would've done it ages ago."

"Okay, that's it," Remus grumbled under his breath as he twisted himself around to get off the couch. You grabbed his wrist to keep him from going, getting him to turn back to face you.

"Remus, don't. I know he's a pain in the ass, but… he's not entirely wrong, it was his actions that brought us together tonight," you tried to pull him back towards you, and he let himself get pulled closer to plant a kiss on your mouth.

"I love you," you whispered against his lips.

"Get a room, you two!" Sirius said, making you groan again, and starting to reconsider trying to keep Remus from kicking his ass.

"I love you, too, my darling. And maybe one day I'll thank him, but tonight I'm gonna end him." He smiled mischievously as he kissed you quickly once more before pulling away from you, and this time you let him go.

"If I were you, Sirius, I'd start running," you said to him, laughing, and you saw actual concern in his eyes when he realized you hadn't stopped Remus from coming after him. He turned on his heel, making his way back up the stairs quickly. 

Remus wasn't too far behind, but he paused a second to look at you and say, "I won't be long."

"Take your time. I'll be waiting for you." He smiled at you before resuming his chase. 

You settled yourself into the couch, feeling happier than you ever had before. "I'd have waited forever for you if I had to, my darling," you whispered to yourself.

[oleander-nin]

Apologizes if this request is a bit vague. But maybe 2018 TMNT. You can pick whatever character you think best suits the scenario. Just head canons about y/n having an over active nose. (Examples include: nose twitching and/or scrunching) If it's too vague of a request I understand not doing it.

A/N: THANK YOU! I've wanted someone to request something for so long! And I literally love this, It's so cute! I really liked it, so I did all four. Sorry they're all so short and it took so long, I haven't had the best week. I hope it's satisfactory though.(Thank you for adding the examples, my first assumption was reader sneezed a lot.) Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Words: 927

Summary: Rottmnt boys have an S/O with a very twitchy nose.

Mikey: 

The first time he noticed it was when you were baking together.

You were measuring out the dry ingredients while Mikey was mixing in the eggs.

He couldn’t help but stare, your concentrated face was adorable and you seemed so determined to get the measurements exactly right.

And then your nose twitched.

Face scrunched up, moving back and forth between the bowl and the bag of flour beside you, pushing the extra flour back into the bag with the dull edge of a butter knife.

He had never seen you so focused, admiring you from his spot on the middle island.

You must’ve sensed his staring because you look up at him a few moments later.

Nose twitching as the flour dust rises around you, eyes trained on Mikey as you try to figure out why he’s staring so intently. He never told you, deciding to keep it to himself.

After that day, he continued to notice whenever your nose twitched, his eyes seemed to fixate on it every time.

He finds it adorable, figuring out what triggers different twitches and using them to his advantage. Does your face scrunch up in concentration when you play video games? Well now you both just have to have daily matches.

Likes to draw you with your scrunched up face, noting that it happens when you're happy or focused. He just finds it cute.

Donnie:

Was one of the first things he noticed about you. 

He was watching you play poker with Raph, both of you starting trying your best to keep your faces straight. When you spoke, trying to slyly convince Raph you had the upper hand, your nose twitched.

Donnie wrote it off at first, assuming there was dust in the air and he needed to check the air filters he had set up, but it happened just about every time you lied. 

He was pleasantly surprised to find this tell of yours, content with knowing you wouldn’t be able to lie to him.

As you grew closer, he was able to differentiate between different nose twitches, memorizing how your face scrunched up in disgust at certain textures, how your nose flared when Leo was starting to get on your nerves.

It made dealing with your emotions a lot easier when he could see them. He loved this little quirk of yours, hoping you never found out why he just studies your face so often.

He likes to keep you close and just listen to you talk, watching your facial expressions and little nose twitches while you tell him about your day.

If you ever ask about his staring, he just gives some non-committal answer. Not only does he want to keep up his bad-boy image, but he also doesn’t want you to figure out how to train your expressions. Then his upper hand would be taken away.

Raph:

Didn’t notice for a long time, but once he did, he assumed you just had allergies or something. He’d carry around tissues just in case a twitch turned into a sneeze, not wanting you to be left with a runny nose. He’d offer you allergy medicine and try to get rid of any unwanted dust, never wanting you to be uncomfortable down in the lair.

Once he realized it was just a normal you thing, he relaxed a little, no longer hounding Donnie about the air filters and such.

Finds it cute now that he isn’t constantly worried you're allergic to everything.

If you ever mention his chasm, he mentions your nose scrunches. Is happy to have something you can both mutually tease each other about.

Defends you if Leo makes fun of it though. Will not tolerate Leo’s BS when it comes to you, especially if you're sensitive or insecure about it.

Just stares with a soft smile whenever you go on a rant and your nose starts acting up, he thinks it just adds to your charm.

Will just make silly faces at you randomly, trying to copy your nose scrunches. Loves when you make silly faces back at him.

All in all, he just thinks it’s a cute little thing you do.

Leo:

Holy cow, prepare to be teased.

Also notices it right away, but unlike Donnie, he instantly points it out.

Finds it cute and goofy, immensely enjoying the way your nose twitches as you go about your day.

Will tease you about it, but will not make fun of you. Like, if your nose starts twitching as you talk, he will add sound effects to it, but he won’t outright make fun of it.

If you’re insecure about it, he will tone down the teasing and compliment you more often, feeling bad he might’ve had a hand in your insecurity.

If you are both into heavy teasing, borderline bullying, he will absolutely compare it to Raph’s chasm and rag you about it every time you are having a teasing fight. It’s okay though, you just make fun of his bald head and lack of fingers. Sure wish you could play an instrument, huh Leo. 

Will fight anyone else who makes fun of you though. That’s his thing.

Starts copying it subconsciously, his snout starting to scrunch up a little more as he talks. His brothers tease him for it. They are less kind about it. It’s not his fault he just wants to be more like you.

Like Mikey, he tries to find what triggers certain twitches and purposefully puts you in a position where your face scrunches.

Loves your little twitchy nose.

02.24.23