#and there's bits that i just could not hear at all but whatever

[aroace-madness]

Comfortable

Captain Marvel was a wonderful guy, friendly, caring, loyal to a fault and always cheery

Everyone loved him or at least respected him

The Justice League especially

So it's not a surprise when the Captain hasn't answered their calls and messages for a few days, they decided to visit him in his home city, Fawcett

Fawcett is a nice city, weird as hell and concerning at times but it had its own beauty

So in all honestly no one was shocked when a big piece of metal came hurling at the league the very second they stepped a foot in the borders of the city

Clark didn't have a chance to take off the ground before a woman in a silver helmet caught it, beside the helmet from which they could see her long Brown hair, she wore a red shirt, a blue belt, and gloves boots and a yellow bottom of a bodysuit that showed off her legs

She putted the piece of metal down on the ground and landed in front of them

“Hello, I’m Bulletgirl” the woman- Bulletgirl extended her hand for a handshake and Diana, who was the closest to her, accepted it

“Nice to meet another sister in arms, I’m Wonder Woman and this” she gestured at her friends “is the Justice League”

“Oh the Justice League, we heard so much about you” Bulletgirl smiled brightly “it's so nice to finally meet you properly, I apologise for the welcome you got but we’ve been having a bit of a problem for the last few day”

“Which includes flying pieces of metal?” Barry cocked his eyebrow, not that she could see

Bulletgirl didn't say anything, just pointed behind her

There was a gigantic robot walking through the city, it seemed to try and swat away whatever was flying around it, probably Captain

“Yeesh” that was Hal

“Yeah, Dr Sivanna started wreaking havoc in that robot a few days ago and we're trying to get him out without damaging the city and hurting people” Bulletgirl rubbed the back of her neck “we’re herding him to a less populated area and evacuating people from there to lessen the risks of anything happening”

Before anyone from the league could say anything, red blurr hitted the ground in front of them

“Ugh” the blur turned out the be a man

“Hi sweetheart” Bulletgirl waved at the man who was apparently her love “i see your ‘i can handle it’ is doing well”

“Oh yeah kick the lying one” the man managed to sit up with a grunt, he was wearing the same helmet as Bulletgirl

“I have the honor to introducing my dunce of a husband Bulletman” the woman said as she helped her husband stand up, his costume was very similar to his wifes, the only difference really were pants and a lack of gloves

“Nice to meet you” he turned to Bulletgirl “Do you have to call me that?” Bulletman grimaced a which made his wife laugh and kiss his cheek

“Now don't be dramatic dear i've called you far worse”

“True” Bulletman shrugged and dusted his clothes off “so, you're the infamous Justice League we’ve been hearing so much about”

“That's us” Clark smiled

“You do look like a bunch of well meaning people, even that shadow guy over there” he pointed at Bruce “dressed in black, cowl, long cape, gloomy demeanor, you must be Batman”

Batman just grunted in acknowledgament

“How are things going back there?” Bulletgirl asked her husband

“Oh, Voltage and Mary are evacuating people from a neighbourhood that Captain, Mr Scarlet and Ibis are herding Sivanna to”

“That's good” She patted his shoulder and turned back to the Justice League “so what brings you to Fawcett anyways?”

“Oh” Barry perked up “we wanted to see how Cap is doing since he hasn't been answering his comms for the past few days but we see why”

“Yeah” there was a silence for a moment “sooooo, do you guys want to help us out with that?”

Everyone agreed

Clark flew over to where the machine was and created a makeshift corridor from ice

Hal started herding the robot with his projections alongside Captain Marvel who waved at him and a man in a red turban

Shayera, Bulletgirl and Bulletman were flying around the robots head to try and confuse Sivana and IT seemed to work

Sivanas machine was slowly stepped towards a big, circular housing estate while Barry was quickly evacuating the last of civilians from the dangered area

When he was finally in a right position, Diana wrapped her lasso around the robots legs, Bruce did the same with his grappling hook

Shayera, Hal and Bullegirl started pushing at the shoulders of the robot while Captain Marvel and Bulletman were pulling them

The robot lost its footing and started to lose its balance. Clark made a giant ice wall to cushion the fall

The machines upper body fell on the ice and shattered it to about a half of it's height before stopping (Barry made sure to catch and put away the pieces of ice, before any of them landed on any building)

Bulletgirl opened the hatch of the machines head and took Sivana out, holding him by the scruff of his kilt while he was kicking and screaming, flailing his arms around

“I’ll take him to the police, Mister Scarlet is already with them making sure that there aren't any any injured or god forbid casualties” Bulletgirl said as she flew away from Sivana in her hand

The rest of the two groups gathered on the ground by the robot

“That was awesome guys” Barry smiled as he joined the group

“It sure was” Bulletman nodded his hand and putted his hands on his hips, seconds before he got tackled and putted in a one arm headlock by Marvel

“You guys were great!” Captain smiled in his typical fashion as he held the Bulletman

The man didn't seem too bothered by his current situation

“Do you have to do that every time?” The man in a red turban asked, tilting his head a bit

“You know I do, Ibis” Marvel grinned at the man, Ibis apparently “you guys were great too” Captain directed his attention to them, completely shifting his attitude

Before any of the League members could say anything else they got interrupted by two blurs, red and blue, flying straight into the Captain

The man didn't budge and just caught the two into his other arm

The red blur was a girl, looked almost identical to Captain, Mary Marvel

The blue blur was a guy, Voltage

Captain didn't say anything, just dropped them as they kept laughing and cheering

“Alright Cap, I think it's time for you to let go of Bulletman” Mr Scarlet said, leaning a bit on Ibis

Marvel sticked his tongue out at Mr Scarlet and eased his arm, letting the other man slip out of his grasp

Bulletman took advantage of his freedom and slapped Captain in the arm. Captain was about to slap back when Bulletgirl landed next to them

“Alright, Sivana is taken care of” she dusted her hands off and looked at the mess

“Yeah this is going to be a bitch to clean up” Ibis sighed

“Yeah, how about you guys start and I’ll escort our guests” Bulletgirl smiled

“Yeah yeah, you do you” Voltage rolled his eyes as he was already starting the clean-up

Bulletgirl motioned to the league to follow her, and they did

“Did Captain Marvel seem, different to you guys?” Clark his friends in a shushed voice as they walked trough the streets of the city

“He did seem much more relaxed around the other guys” Barry rubbed his chin

“He also called them by their names, without all these “Misses” and “Misters” he always uses when addressing one of us” Shayera pointed out

“Hmm” Bruce hummed, thinking

They arrived at the city borders and stopped in front of Bulletgirl

“It was really nice meeting all of you and thank you for your help” she smiled at them brightly

“It was nice meeting you and your friends too” Clark smiled back

“Uhh” Hal interjected “I got a question, you see, Captain Marvel seemed much more relaxed around you guys, how did you get him to let loose?”

Bulletgirl stared at Hal for a few moments

“Is he overly polite with you, is always respectful and seems like he would rather die than be mean to any of you?”

The League was left dumbfounded for a few seconds

“Uhh yeah” Barry nodded “how did you know?”

“Because he was the exact same way with us when he started out as a hero of Fawcett” Bulletgirl explained

“There is no way that's true” Hal shook his head

“Oh but it is, it took him about five years to finally let loose, you gotta give him some time. How long has he worked with you?”

“About a year and a half now” Diana answered

“Oh yeah, it’s much too soon for him” Bulletgirl laughed

“Maybe he does need time to get comfortable” Diana rubbed the back of her neck “how long have you been working together”

“Oh we’ve been fighting together since 1960”

“1960!?” Barrys eyes bulged out, same as the rest of the League really

“What do you mean 1960?” Clark asked in shock, he wasn't even on earth in 1960, he doubted that he was even in plans during that time

“Not to sound rude or anything but how old are you?” Hal asked

“Oh i’m 35” she answered, as if she’s not frying the justice leagues brains

“Wait, wait, wait” Shayera shook her head “ if you've been working with Cap since 1960, then how are you still 35?”

“That's because of the Suspendium” Bulletgirl said as if it explained anything. She must have noticed their confusion since she started talking again “Dr Sivana used a chemical he created, Suspendium, to trap Captain Marvel, Mary Marvel and Voltage in a force Field that would keep them suspended animation, something went wrong and instead of just capturing the three, the entire city got surrounded by the time bubble, as we call it, with Sivana in it. Captain managed to pop the bubble two years ago”

“Two years ago was when there were first sighting of Captain Marvel” Bruce pointed out

“Yes, the second the bubble popped, Captain started flying around the world”

“Wait” Clark shook his head “how come we never heard of something like that ever happening?”

“Oh” Bulletgirl rubbed the back of her neck “apparently everything and everyone that was trapped in the time bubble was completely erased from the maps and history books and only came back when the bubble was popped”

“That doesn't make any sense” Bruce sighed as he rubbed his temples

“Nothing makes sense, bat boy” Bulletgirl shrugged “now, as much as it's nice standing here and talking I really should help with cleaning” She said as she took of from the ground and bid them adieu

“God this is so weird” Barry sighed

“You're telling me?” Clark slumped a bit

“I think it's best if we don't think about it too much” Diana patted her friends shoulders

As they came back to the Watchtower they all agreed not to think too much about the whole Suspendium situation, it would only lead to a headache

They do like Captains friends tho, they seem nice and are good heroes

@puppetwoman17 @shazam-secret-santa

I hope you like it :D

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞

★ synopsis: workaholic marine biologist discovers a new species that was only believed to exist within stories. while heavily focused on her new groundbreaking research, she tries to figure out her feelings for her shiny new toy.

★ character: rafayel

★ cw: first-person pov, merman rafayel, a bit of angst towards the end but nothing too crazy

★ word count: 3.7k

★ a/n: as a former marine bio major, i got to nerd out ab fish and raf (yay!!), set in main storyline era, but reader is obviously a biologist and not a hunter (raf is also not the sea god in this). tried to stick to lemurian lore, but kinda threw my own stuff in too. sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed, i lowkey tapped out, but overall i'm pretty proud of this!!

It was moments like these that made me love what I do.

I was in the pool room of the facility, a dome with towering window walls, and a large circular pool in the middle that connected to the sea outside. It was mainly used by me, and I was fortunate enough to be the only one with access, as I was the only field expert in the facility. I worked hands-on with marine life, collecting samples that I would send to the lab upstairs.

In the early mornings like these, I could finally just take a breath before starting my day and watch the sunrise all around me. Watch the way it would slowly illuminate the room, reflecting off the water that rippled with the morning wind. I could feel the weight lift off my shoulders because sunny, clear mornings like this made the stress of work worthwhile.

Not that I’d rather be anywhere else.

I checked the pool, seeing what creature may have found its way in. To my dismay, it was just another handful of mackerel that had probably gotten lost from its school. That’s all it’s been lately, a few strays from the euphotic zone. The bottom of the pool was an open hatch leveled with the sea, since the lowest level of the facility sat directly in the water. When motion was detected, the floor of the pool would close off, trapping whatever got caught inside. If I were lucky, maybe it would be a cute sea turtle or a shark, but those days were rare.

Disgruntled, I opened the hatch that had closed, setting the mackerel free. Inwardly I prepared for another boring afternoon, praying for another field work day when I could actually go out to sea.

-

Coming back from grabbing coffee from the breakroom and a few more test tubes from the lab upstairs, I made my way back to the pool room. From inside, I heard a loud groaning.

“OWWWW.”

Frantically I key carded my way into the room, the doors sliding open to reveal a strange man in the pool.

I stood frozen in place, not sure what free diver could have possibly found his way in, and… Why was he shirtless?

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me?” The man glared.

I learned from years of working in the sea to stay calm and assert dominance, so striding forward with as much grace as I could muster-

My jaw dropped.

The man had odd markings painted on his skin and face, in intricate beautiful designs. He was clad in golden jewelry, draped with a chiffon sash. Despite being fresh out of the water, his dusty purple hair was nearly dry, and I was sure he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. There was something otherworldly about him, not like anyone I had seen before.

That was when I noticed the tail.

It was amazing, and I screeched with joy. The iridescent blue scales matched the ones on his cheeks and neck, and it had to be as long as I was tall.

The man leaned against the bars on the pool, narrowing his eyes at me. “Your stupid machine hurt me.”

I stared at him laughing with excitement, “What are you?”

“Did you hear me? I said I was hurt.”

My eyes traveled over him, he didn’t appear to be hurt or even in much pain. He held out his hand, adorned with gold bangles and painted nails, “It pinched my finger.”

I shook my head, “Sorry, sometimes it malfunctions. It’s supposed to have a safety mechanism so fish can’t get caught in the doors.”

“Yes, well, you need to fix it.”

Whatever this man was, he had an attitude problem.

“I’m going back to my first question,” I circled the pool like a predator with its prey. The man-fish thing followed me with his eyes, and I stopped back in front of him. “What the hell are you?”

He rolled his eyes, “I think that’s quite obvious. I know humans aren’t that stupid.”

Stunned, I continued to stare at him. Of course I knew what a mermaid was, everyone always told stories of the ancient Lemurians, but that’s all it was. A story.

Yet, here in front of me, was a man with a fish tail.

Excitement continued to bubble up inside me and I started clapping my hands with glee, “Oh my gosh this is perfect. You’re perfect.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, “If I’m so perfect can we get rid of these prison walls? What are these even for anyways-” As he started to rattle on the bars.

“They’re so the fish can’t beach themselves when I’m not here,” Opening the gate so I could sink down to his level, I took off my shoes so I could sit on the ledge. Grabbing his face in my hands, I turned it side to side, observing closely the glitter of his scales underneath my fingers, “Your skin is so cold, yet you have hair…But you have scales… Are you a mammal, or…”

He smirked at me, taking my grabby hands away from his skin, “Y’know you could at least take me out to dinner first.”

I frowned, bothered with the interruption of my observations. Standing back up, I moved away to start grabbing collection and testing kits, “Can you hop up where I was please? Or will you need assistance? I have a sling-”

“I can do it.”

Watching as he pulled himself up and out of the water, biceps flexing as he lifted himself, I wondered how a fish could possibly get that ripped.

I sat down beside him, “You have no obvious gills…”

The man scoffed, and I put on my stethoscope. I placed it over where, if he had them, his lungs would be.

“Deep breath in,” Watching as he took an inhale through his nose, and listened as his lungs took in a breath of air.

“Lungs.” Confirming my thoughts.

Placing the drum over his heart, I realized his heartbeat was racing.

“I don’t understand-” He started, before I placed my finger over his lips.

“Shush, no talking.”

We sat there like that for a minute, before I pulled away, “120/60, is your heart rate usually that fast?”

Glaring at me, he crossed his arms, “No, I just don’t usually have random girls assaulting me.”

As I pulled out different test tubes, I rambled out questions to him that were mostly just thoughts in my head.

“Where did you come from? How do you speak English? Where do you live?”

“First of all,” He shunned away at the sight of a needle, “my name is Rafayel. Since you haven’t even bothered to ask.”

“Secondly, I came from the sea, duh. Didn’t even mean to get caught in this stupid thing…” The man winced as I pricked his finger, and I laughed, “Well you sure are compliant for being ‘assaulted’ by a stranger.”

“I have no choice! You have all these weapons for poking and prodding! Anyways, I speak every language, it comes from being Lemurian-”

I stopped, “You’re Lemurian?”

He rolled his eyes, “I thought the tail would’ve given that away.”

Silently I continued to work, thinking less about the fact that a real Lemurian was in front of me, and more about how this would affect the studies of the sea and marine life as a whole. More than 80% of the sea is unexplored, and the idea of Lemuria being part of it opens up a whole new doorway to the future of research. Not only that, but the fact that Rafayel was relatively eager to comply.

He watched me with his galaxy colored eyes, that seemed almost as wide with wonder as mine were. We seemed fascinated with each other, and maybe that’s why he was so calm about all of this. It’s not every day you’d let a stranger go full blown crazy scientist on you.

“Am I going to learn anything about you?” His question startled me, and it hadn’t even crossed my mind he knew nothing about me. My only focus had been on discovering who and what this creature was.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s my bad.” I introduced myself, and told him about my work as a marine biologist. He let me gripe about the lack of interesting catches in the pool as of late, and how my passion lies with whales.

“I don’t get to go out into the field often,” I explained, “but when I do it’s always the best. Being able to dive, and being out at sea for a few weeks studying the bigger or deeper animals we can’t get in the pool.”

“What about when you’re here?” Rafayel looked around the room as if it was an interesting enough place to work. To him, this probably seemed more fun than exploring the place he’s lived his whole life.

I sighed, “I’m never not here; but I mean, it’s fine I guess, it’s just you can only collect so many samples of the same few creatures before you get bored.” Smiling at him, I ran my fingers through his hair…

“That’s why you, my dear, are my new muse.”

-

To my surprise, Rafayel came back after that. I half expected him to just disappear, deeming me crazy and warning his fellow Lemurians about ‘that one weird marine biologist’. I’d kiss goodbye the breakthrough of research he could’ve given me, and go back to slaving over the same boring fish every day.

The next morning, he was in the pool bright and early, his head sitting in his crossed arms on the ledge.

He smiled when he saw me waltz in, “You’re here early.”

“I always am,” I shrugged, “do Leumrians not sleep?”

“Sometimes.”

We quickly slipped into a routine. He’d show up in the early mornings, and stay with me until I went home that night. Even if I ran out of samples to collect, waiting for lab results, he’d perch himself up on the ledge with me and watch me read old textbooks about old Lemurian history, or anatomy books about different kinds of marine mammals.

Rafayel would snatch the Lemurian books out of my hands, “You know, I can tell you everything you need to know.”

“Yes, well, you’re an unreliable narrator.” I’d grab the book back.

Though he had a tendency to exaggerate, I really did enjoy all the stories he would tell me; his tail in my lap as I’d compare it to previous studies I had done on scales, he’d go on about Lemurian people, boasting about the beauty of the city and explaining their culture. I’d sit and nod, humming responses as I carefully analyzed him.

I believed Rafayel kept coming back because he simply loved being doted over. Some part of him got off on the attention, seeing the way my face would light up when I put pieces of the puzzle together, grabbing his face in my hands with excitement.

“Raf this is amazing news!” I’d laugh, squeezing his face with one hand, shaking lab results in the air with another.

“I don’t know what you’re on about…” He’d say through smushed cheeks, but his eyes would twinkle and defy his feigned annoyance.

Sometimes, if I ran out of things to do, he’d use his ‘magical Lemurian powers’ (his words, not mine) to lure in some different creatures, giving me extra stuff to send to the lab upstairs. One day I had been giving a bit too much attention to a stingray he had summoned, and Rafayel started sighing from the other side of the pool.

“What's wrong now?” I asked, not even looking up at him, focusing my attention on extracting the stringer from the stingray's tail.

He sighed loudly again.

This time, my eyes met his, and he flopped down onto his back, pouting dramatically. Once I had gathered everything I needed, and set the poor creature free, I walked over to where Rafayel was still laying on his back, displeased.

He looked up at me through his eyelashes, and quickly turned his head to the side, “If I’m your muse then why are you giving so much attention to these random fish!”

Crouching down by his head, I poked his cheek, “You’re the one who summons them for me.”

“Well if this is the case, then I’m not gonna help anymore!” Sticking out his lower lip, Rafayel side-eyed me.

“I’m ever so sorry for doing my job, I shall never give another fish attention again besides you.”

He smirked, satisfied with my response.

Rafayel was always like this, oddly infatuated with me and jealous. He seemed pleased I didn’t have much of a social life outside of work, as my only focus was him. Often, he had a habit of prying into my thoughts, asking a million questions about myself. Some were simple, like where I went to school and what kind of music I enjoyed. Others were questions I never even thought about.

“How do you see your future?”

I snapped my head up from my book to look at him, “I’m sorry?”

He stared right into my eyes, almost as if he was trying to read my mind, “What do you see yourself doing in the future?”

“I don’t know, working probably.” I tried to shrug off the question.

“Do you ever want a family?”

“I don’t think I’d have time.”

“Well, you seem to have plenty of time for me.”

-

After that, I noticed a lot more how his eyes would follow me. How he’d rest his hand on my waist as I’d bandage him up from blood collection. The prolonged eye contact, the longing smiles, how his cheeks and ears would turn pink when I’d call him my muse.

To quote Rafayel simply, “Humans aren’t that stupid.”

I knew. I mean, I’m a scientist, I had a fair amount of common sense. Even though I spent most of my time with fish doesn’t mean I don’t know when a man likes me.

It’s not like I wasn’t attracted to him either, it would be impossible not to be. Rafayel is beautiful, just like the world that surrounds him; he’s the sea, the absolute personification of my first love. He’s spunky and brave, sassy yet kind, and despite my immediate joy about him regarding the future of marine research, it’s gone so far beyond that. My care for him has ascended past study and data, into a place I was scared to approach.

What was I supposed to do? Keep him in my bathtub for the rest of my life? A swimming pool in my backyard? This was work, this was business, this is the future; nothing is going to get in the way of that. Not my stupid feelings, nor his.

In the evening, before I was getting ready to go home, I was taking one final look at Rafayels scales on his face and neck.

“They’re so beautiful…” I muttered under my breath, inches away from his face. His scales were what fascinated me the most, despite it being the least interesting fact I had discovered about this humanoid. Somehow, a mammal having scales like this was utterly enchanting. Tracing the way they were engraved into his skin, he opened one of his eyes to look at me.

“Do you want one?” Rafayel asked.

“I wouldn’t want just one, I’d need enough to make a necklace.” Softly smiling, I playfully picked at one of them.

“Have I told you the Lemurian tradition of giving up one of our scales?”

“Mm, briefly…”

He tilted his head forward, as if he were telling me top secret information, “When we give one of our scales to someone, it bonds us for life. An eternal love that traverses through anything, whole universes.” Both eyes open now, the look in them told me I already had been given thousands of his scales.

I pushed his head back with one of my fingers, “You’re already bonded to me for life, at least until I can figure you out.”

Rafayel leaned towards me again, and I grabbed his face,

“Hold still.”

He frowned.

-

“Rafayel~” Walking into the pool room I sang out to him like usual, only to find the pool empty.

After nearly a year of seeing him every single day, for the first time, he was nowhere to be seen.

My heart sank, was it because I had rejected him?

I sat by the pool, filled with mackerel, and just waited…

And waited…

And waited…

I watched the sun begin to set through the large windows, covering the room in an orange glow. Rafayel always had a habit of complaining about the way the sun would shine in his eyes, but would quickly quiet down as he saw me stare out at the sea longingly; there was so much love in his eyes I thought it might suffocate him if he didn’t let it out.

I guess he finally had enough.

Tears threatened to pour as the sky turned dark, the room only lit up with the light of the moon.

Frustrated, I cursed him under my breath. How dare he ruin this for me? How could he let his own feelings get in the way of the bright future I had made for marine research? I wanted to hit him upside the head for giving me all of this information and data, just to up and leave, leaving my study on a cliffhanger.

How could he leave me?

The next day, for the first time in years, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to get out of bed. Let alone go to work. I hated him for making me feel this way, for breaking down my walls so much that I was ready to give up the only thing I had going for me.

I went anyway.

Walking up to the doors of the pool room, I thought about just turning around and going home. I was going to waste my time with a school of fish that I had already collected hundreds of samples from, when I could just go back to my bed and rot, grieving the future of science and my broken heart.

Just as I was about to turn on my heel and leave, I heard soft singing from inside, a voice I recognized easily.

Practically breaking the doors open, I ran inside.

Sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, reading a textbook as if nothing was wrong, was the man I wanted to strangle with my bare hands.

He looked up at me, frowning, “You’re late.”

Once the adrenaline of seeing him wore off, I noticed where he was.

Outside of the pool, in a chair, with no help, with…

“Legs!” I screeched, exasperated.

“Yeah, okay, good to see you too I guess.” Rafayel scoffed, going back to the book. This time it was my turn to snatch it out of his hands.

“Rafayel, this changes everything! All of my studies!” I put my face in my hands, shaking my head.

“That's what you have to say about this? I don’t show up to try and play hard to get, and this is what I get?” He glared at me, “You didn’t even miss me!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you could grow legs!”

“I was trying to humor you!”

I threw my hands up in desperation, pacing back and forth. Rafayel started mumbling something in a language I didn’t understand, clearly mad.

“Is that all I am to you?” He spit out at me, like his words were acid, “Some science experiment?” I shot my head in his direction, narrowing my eyes, “You know as well as I do that’s not the case.”

“If that's not the case, then why are you doing this to me? Acting like you care and there’s something here, then putting your walls back up. Am I just being manipulated for your work?” Rafayel stood up, peering down at me, “Just some testing animal that you keep here in your tank?”

“Raf…No…Of course not.” I promised, seeing the look of hurt in his eyes made my heart squeeze in guilt. Tracing the painted marking on his cheek, I noticed the scales on his face and neck were nowhere to be seen.

His demeanor quickly switched at my touch, grabbing my hands in desperation, pulling them to his chest and clutching my fingers over his heart.

“I don’t care.” Rafayel stated.

“What?”

“I don’t care what you do. You can have me for life; study me, use me, publish me for the world to see, I don’t care. I just want you in return.”

He fell to his knees, holding his hands tightly on my waist. Looking up at me with a pleading look in his eyes, Rafayel started muttering what I could only make out to be a Lumerian prayer I had read in one of the textbooks, “Please.” He cried.

“Rafayel, just stand up.”

“Please.” He repeated.

I stared down at him, “Raf-”

“Please, no, just say you want me. Say you’ll have me. Open this door, I know you’re scared, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Rafayel.”

“Put your trust in me. I’ll give you all my scales, my blood, my life, please, be mine, I’m already yours; be mine.”

I fell to my knees with him, smashing my lips onto his. Tangling my hand in his hair, the other clutching onto his sash, I felt like I was trying to kiss the life out of him. I wanted to merge my soul with his, I wanted to be a part of him, climb into his skin, breathe his air into my lungs. He tasted like the salt of the sea, his lips warm compared to the cold of his skin.

My walls crumbled, and with his hands on my skin, I realized nothing mattered more than him. No more research, no more work, just him.

I loved him so much, I could cry.

‘How do you see your future?’ He had asked so long ago.

With you, Rafayel.

Just you.

(divider by cafekitsune)

[sirxlla]

On Your Period (Batboys)

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Dick: You and Dick were out and about at the mall while you both did a bit of splurging, got lunch, made some Build A Bears for eachother...Dick saw blood on your pants as you bent over to check out the little trinkets in this next shop. He said nothing, just took his sweater off and wrapped it around your waist. Naturally, you turnd around gave him a questioning look so his whispered in your ear.

"Honey, you might wanna check your pants." His hands gently massaged your hips, he knew when cycle was every month so he had extra pants, panties and pads/tampons in his Jeep.

"Oh, my god." The embarressment shone in your voice but his hands on you hips helped soothe the sinking feeling.

"It's okay, let me pay for this and you head to the restroom. We can shop still if you'd like after." He spoke so sweetly and so kindly, Dick pulled out his wallet and picked up the item you'd been debating on wanting for the last half hour.

"Go...I got this, Sweet Girl." His blue eyes peered into the depth of yours with soft reassurance before you went to go check your pants.

Jason: You huffed and grumbled as he fixed his bike, handing him a torque wrench. You grumbled again and his green eyes shot up after hearing the noise over and over.

"Angel, what's got you huffing and puffing like a damn steam train?" He asks cause he's tired of hearing you groaning.

"I'm hungry, Jay!" You whined as you watched him tighten.

"I love you but quit bitching and get some food." You were hangry, he could tell. Jason grabbed his phone and handed it to you.

"Order something...and get me something too." He got up and washed his hands as you ordered food.

"All you had to do was ask to use my card, Babygirl." He came back over to you and hoisted you over his shoulder to carry you to his room. Jason placed you on the bed and plugged in your heating pad.

"I can do it myself, Jay." You felt bad for him doing all this and paying for your food.

"Shut up and relax." He demanded as his hands found your lower abdomen as he massaged the sore area, between his hands and the warm pad he had you feeling a lot better.

Once the food got there, the both of you scarfed it down, with food in your belly you were much less grouchy and much more tired. Jason laid with you and the both of you took a nap, he could use it from this tireless patrols and you for obvious reasons.

Strong and firm hands kept rubbing at your sore and angry abdomen as the both of you slipped off to a relaxing nap.

Bruce: Bruce wasnt good with periods and such. He often found himself in his own little world normally, saving Gotham and playing Billionare wasnt easy but he saw how much you shifted in your seat during the Wayne Enterprises board meeting.

Being his assistant was usually nice but right now it was hell listening to men talk about stocks and figuratively compare wallets to try to gain favor of the man you love.

He wasnt interested mostly in their shit and before you knew it, Bruce quietly excused you and quietly told you to get whatever you needed from the little period bag he had in his office, take ibuprofen and maybe a nap. You were about to disagree when he cut you off...

"Now, Mr. L/N." He demanded, Bruce was always formal with you when others were around due to being only his "employee." Bruce had to stay in the meeting as a formality, you knew that.

You were gonna disagree to his order but he wasnt gonna budge, plus your back was aching, your cramps could put Doomsday out of commision so you went to his office. Finding yourself heating up the warming bad then took pain meds and took a nap.

Bruce returned an hour later and covered you up with a blanket, his hands slipped to your heels and slowly took them off, his fingers moved to your waist and unzipped your skirt slightly at the top to relieve some pressure before he got back to answering emails and such.

Tim: You had got up and didnt even notice the blood you'd left on his sheets due to the feeling of blood in your shorts, Your eyes shot open as you bolted to the bathroom with embarressment to wash out the shorts and to hope blood didn't drip down your thighs.

Tim's eyes slowly opened and he noticed the blood. It was normal, he knew that so he started cleaning it up immediately after you got out of bed. Blood was blood and he wasnt squeamish in the slight. He'd had your spit and throw up on him, blood was nothing.

Tim popped on a pot of coffee for himself, got you new panties, sleep pants and a shirt cause changing fully sometimes just felt better and fresher, Pajamas of course. Tim knew every womans wants to be comfy during her period.

Tim knocked on the bathroom door and asked to come in, you said yes. He barely cracked it open to hand you clothes which made your eyes well up a bit because he did it without even needing to be asked, you hadn't even gotten the chance to think about needing these. He did it on his own... He closed the door and returned to the room where he stripped the bed and cleaned the previous, they were spotless by the time he was done.

He then got the stache of candy he had for you out of the cabinets, then the little plushie that went in the microwave for your cramps. Tim was always secretly prepared and swift in the way he tool care of you and did it like a cake walk in the park.

Damian: "Dami, Can you pick me up pads/tampons?" You had ran out and the period underwear you did have were overly uncomfy, you had meant to new pairs last month but forgot.

"Okay." He texted as he normally did when you responded but it was almost a automated reponse he had.

"Okay? You don't even know what size and brand etc." You asked via text.

"Okay." He texted back, he was clearly busy but you really needed pads or something so you called him.

"Hello?" He was out of breath and clearly punching and kicking someone.

"I need pads or something, please get some on the way home." You pleaded with him.

"Okay, Y/N." He responded as his mind was currently on something else...Of course he didnt buy any before coming home. You went out to him to get him cause these underwear were pinching you.

"What?" He noticed the look in your eye like you were looking for something and he didnt know what so he spoke in a confused tone.

"Pads, tampons, anything?" You were clearly so desperate and uncomfortable.

"Oh, I- Beloved, I got wrapped up in things. I can go out and get you some." He remembered you saying something but it went in and out his ears. Damian actually sounded sorry but you werent in the mood for Damian's apologies.

You padded down to Tim's room to ask for some, for Tim being more into dudes most of the time he sure was prepared for if he ever had a girl over. Damian broufht you home chocolate and flowers the next day and from then on always made sure the bathroom stayed stocked after that also he made sure to recheck his texts on his way home for if you needed something.

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[lowkeyerror]

Help With The Curriculum Pt 4

Agatha x Rio x Reader

Word count: 4.2k

Notes: Smut, choking, fingering, cunnulingus, daddy!kink, mommy!kink, dacryphilia, dirty talk, edging, mentions of overstimulation, begging degradation, praise

Summary: Rio gets herself a chance with you and Agatha. The only caveat is that she has to follow instructions and even then, she might not get a reward.

An: The Ao3 curse hit me, but part 4 (potentially last part) is here, hope you like it.

Previous Part | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Y/n, wake up.”

You groan, snuggling further into Agatha’s warmth. She chuckles a bit, scratching the top of your head.

“Baby, you have to let me get up. I have to go home.”

That only causes you to hold her tighter, “No.”

She sighs, “I have class later, I have to go home to change.”

“Wear mine,” you mumble against her collarbone.

“You’d love seeing me in your clothes, wouldn’t you?”

You pull away from her and wipe your eyes, “What time is it?”

“6 am.”

You shake your head, “We’re college professors, 6am is high school teacher hours Agatha.”

“Well, I need time to go home and get ready. Someone didn’t want to let me go last night,” she gets up, causing you to sit up right in your bed.

“It was late, and besides your legs could’ve given out on the way over,” you tease her.

Agatha rolls her eyes, “Funny, I’ll see you on campus.”

“Wait,” you get out of bed clumsily, she laughs at your movements. “Let me walk you out.”

“Adorable.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you lead her to your front door.

“I have a gap around 2, if you want to do lunch?” She suggests and you nod.

“I’d like that,” you smile at her.

“Text me your order, I’ll pick it up,” she says and for a moment it feels like you’re both prolonging the goodbye.

You kiss her sweetly, not really wanting to stop, “You need to go before I take you back to my bedroom.”

You push her lightly out of the door. She starts walking to her car, but she turns back half way just to blow you a kiss. A small chuckle escapes you before you shoo her away with one last movement of your hand. You wait for her to drive off before going back inside your home.

Since you were awake so early you decided to make breakfast and get ready for work. By the time you were dressed and finished eating it was time for you to go.

Today was the day of the exam, so it was going to be relatively easy for you. You arrive to your classroom a bit early to make sure everything is set for the exam.

“Exam days always seem to drag on forever,” you lift your head at the sound of her voice.

“Professor Vidal, what do you want?” Your voice is dry when you speak to her.

“Think I made that quite obvious yesterday,” she stalks her way over to your desk.

“And why would I reward such a brat?”

She puts her hands behind her back and tilts her head. Her eyes get big and glossy, “But I’m a good girl.”

You could see why Agatha would easily cave in to the woman. She is hot; her body is damn near perfect and her beauty is undeniable.

“No you aren't, because here you are begging me like a needy slut. When we both know you should be talking to Agatha, instead,” you give her a pointed look.

“She doesn't want me anymore,” you hear a vulnerability that you aren't sure she meant to convey.

“Who said that?”

Rio frowns, “She did, literally yesterday. She told me to move on.”

You sigh taking a bit of pity on the woman, “Listen Rio, your problem is that you push too far. Agatha can't handle you being a brat all of the time. I don't think she wanted to end things with you, but if you're never going to listen to her, what's the point?”

“And you listen to her?”

You nod, “Of course, I listen to her, she listens to me.”

Rio focuses on the ground, “She listens to you. She never let me- I wanted to be in control sometimes.”

You cross your arms leaning back against the chair, “Sounds like a reward. I wonder if you could earn it, somehow?”

It's Rio’s turn to sigh, “I need to talk to her, don't I?”

You nod, “I think it’d benefit you.”

She groans, but make her way towards the exit, “You know, I'm not all bad Professor L/n.”

“I know, but you have some lessons to learn. Hopefully rewards to gain, Professor Vidal.”

When she leaves your eyes linger where she stood. It felt like she was the embodiment of temptation. You could imagine what she looked like bare, her look playful, and eager. You’re sure that her neediness clouded any sense of obedience in her body.

When the class piled in you gave them the exam instructions. While they were testing, you let your mind wander to what you could do with Rio. How you could help Agatha tame her.

You were thinking about it until it was time for lunch. Agatha said she would meet you in your classroom.

“What did you say to her?”

Agatha sits the food on your desk.

You shrug, “I told her she needed to talk to you, why?”

Agatha begins to take out the food, “She apologized for being such a brat all the time, said that what we had was important to her, and that she didn’t want to lose it.”

“And what did you say?”

Agatha sighs, “I told her that I wanted to believe her.”

“But…”

“But she would have to prove that she could be good.”

You take a sip of your drink, “And how should she do that?”

Agatha’s eyes met yours, “I was hoping you had some ideas.”

You smirk, “I’ve been brain storming since she left my classroom. I was thinking, maybe we could put on a little show for her, but the rules prohibit her from touching. If she lasts, she can have a reward, but if she can’t… we can give her a very memorable punishment. Thinking either edging or overstimulation. Depends on her attitude.”

Agatha levels with you, “I doubt she can hold out. I mean I doubt that I could if I was watching us fuck.”

You lean back in your chair, “This test isn't about her obedience, it’s about her willpower. I want to see how quickly she cracks, if she’s remorseful, or if she’s going to be disrespectful. If she meant what she said to you, she will try her hardest. Tell her to meet us Saturday at your place. I assume she knows where you live.”

Agatha snickers, “Why do I hear some jealousy in that last part?”

“I told you, I’m not fond of sharing. Don’t worry though, I plan to work through that when Rio’s watching me make you all desperate. I know what she wants from you Aggie, and I’m going to show her how much you love when I give it to you,” your jaw twitches slightly.

“I’m looking forward to it,” she begins to eat her food.

The days seem to pass slowly as anticipation builds inside of you. You’re excited but you don’t necessarily know if that’s appropriate. In truth you wouldn’t describe yourself as a naturally dominant person but something about being with Agatha and something about the thought of being with Rio really made you want to take control.

With Agatha there was much more of a give and take nature to your encounters. Sometimes you would be in control and sometimes you’d crumble under her gaze. However, with Rio’s needy eyes on you, you didn't know if it would be appropriate to crumble.

This time would be somewhat of an example for any times that would occur in the future. It was like you were setting a precedent for how things would unfold and whatever kind of relationship you decided to pursue. There was a lot of confliction inside of you the moment he saw her you did want to put her in her place. You were serious when you said you weren’t sharing but now you didn't know if that was true.

Was it really sharing if you had decided you wanted both?

“I can feel you thinking from here,” Agatha’s hand cups your face.

You’re both in her bedroom waiting for Rio to arrive. You let out a relaxed sigh as her thumb starts to caress your face.

“It feels silly, but I think I’m nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before. I know I was talking a big game, and that was real. I want this, I just don't want to fuck this up,” you admit.

“You’re adorable,” she says.

You whine, “Agatha.”

“Baby it’s not just you in here, I'm here too. I doubt you’ll struggle to preform because you haven't before this. In the case that you do, I’ll be here to get us back on track. Trust me?”

You nod and lean in to peck her lips, “I trust you.”

The doorbell rings breaking the endearing moment. You want to rush to the door but a gentle tug from Agatha has you walking at a slower pace.

“Compose yourself,” she whispers to you before opening the door.

Rio stands on Agatha’s porch in a short sundress. The nerves on her face are present, but she tampers them with a smile.

“Looks a little different than last time I was here,” Rio says peering into the house.

“You know I get bored with décor quickly,” Agatha says stepping aside to let her in.

“And how different is the bedroom?” Rio says slyly.

You speak up, “You should see for yourself.”

Rio hums at your words, making her way towards the bedroom. Agatha and yourself follow her side by side. When you’re all in the room, you’re the one to close the door.

There’s a tension in the air, anticipation of what will happen.

“So…”

“Sit in that chair,” you command Rio, before she can further speak.

She complies, sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. You keep your eyes on her, “Good listening, today we’re going to see how long you can keep it up for. You’re going to sit here and watch while Agatha and I fuck. You aren't going to touch yourself at any point.”

Rio’s eyes darken, “And what do I get for sitting here?”

You tilt your head to the side, “Why would you get anything? This isn’t a reward, this is your case to Agatha that you can be a good girl, and follow simple instructions without being a brat.”

“I can be good.”

You grip her chin so she looks into your eyes, “I hope so because I think it would be fun to play with you.”

You kiss her cheek before turning your back to her and heading towards Agatha. You stand in front of her, eyes locked on each other. Your hands find the bottom of her shirt. You raise it slowly giving her a chance to stop you.

She doesn’t, when her shirts off your hands trail up her soft skin. You let out a shaky breath, trying to control your impulses. Your head dips down so that your tongue could swirl around one of her nipples. The other nipple was occupied in between your fingers.

Periodically you look up to take in the details of Agatha’s face. The light moans and delicate tensions on her face are not enough for you. You want more, you start to use your teeth and soon her breathy moans become more fleshed out.

Agatha couldn’t take any more of the teasing, she pulls your face up so that your lips meet. It’s hungry, and you swear her lips get softer every time you kiss them. You moan as she sucks on your bottom lip.

You hear a whimper in the corner of the room and you break from the kiss. Rio looks like she has a sweat building up on her forehead. You pull your shirt from over your head and see her eyes widen as she takes in your body.

You don’t miss the way her hands grip the chair. Agatha hugs you from behind, her hand traveling down your body with no hesitation in sight. You moan, keeping eye contact with Rio as Agatha’s hand disappears into your pants.

“You’re so wet for me baby,” she trails kisses up your neck.

“I need you,” you say bucking into her hand.

She guides you so that your back hits the wall. In a swift movement your pants are down and Agatha is on her knees. She spreads your legs and your breathing speeds up a bit.

You grab a handful of her hair and laugh lightly, “Isn’t this familiar?”

She chuckles the same, “Not until you start moaning professor.”

Her hands rest on your thigh as her tongue swipes through your folds. Your grip on her hair tightens, as her pace increases. She hums in satisfaction, not caring about how far her face is buried into your cunt.

“How you doing over there Vidal?” You manage to glance at her and she looks in utter discomfort. She doesn’t answer, “I asked you something.”

“S-soaked,” she grits out.

“Fuck, Aggie were you starving or something?” You feel your legs begin to shake a little from the intensity of her movements.

She pulls away, “You just taste so good.”

“Should we give her something?” You nod your head towards Rio.

Agatha nods, “Whatever your thinking, I’m in.”

Rio sighs believing that the challenge is over and that she’s won a reward. You smile sweetly at her, “Strip.”

Her clothes are gone in under a minute and she stands eagerly.

“Ok sit back down, you were a little uncomfortable in the clothes,” you speak dismissively before returning your attention to Agatha.

“You want to taste yourself?”

You nod, “And I need those fingers inside of me professor.”

“Suck,” Agatha pushes two fingers into your mouth.

You obey her and as soon as her fingers leave your mouth her lips are on yours again. As your kiss echoes in the room, she slides fingers into you.

You gasp in pleasures as she quickly begins to pump in and out of you. Her thumb finds your clit and you can barely keep up with the kiss. Your head falls onto her shoulder.

“You like when I burry my fingers in you, baby? The way my thumb presses down on your clit? Fuck, I can feel you clenching against me. You going to cum on my fingers that fast? God you’re needy today, or is it cause Rio’s watching? You want her to see how I make you cum.”

You lift your head from her shoulder just enough to look at Rio, “I want her t-to see what she can’t have.”

With her now naked you can see every little twitch her body makes. The look of anger on her face only makes you cum harder. Agatha fucks you through it, and as soon as she pulls her fingers out of you, you’re guiding her towards the bed.

You sit with your back against the headboard and Agatha sits in between your legs.

“Open for me baby,” she follows your instructions opening her legs.

One of your arms secure around her waist while the other rubs small circles around her clit. You give Rio a perfect view of Agatha’s dripping cunt.

“You ever have her like this Rio?”

Your fingers glide through Agatha’s folds in a teasing manner.

Rio shook her head, “N-no.”

You chuckle deeply as you plunge two fingers into her, “Oh Aggie, that's so mean of you. Never opened up for your little plaything?”

“Never earned it,” Agatha says breathlessly.

You can see Rio fix her mouth to say something, but she holds back.

“Speak up bunny, I want to know what's on your mind. You think you deserved something like this?”

Your fingers work faster, intoxicated by the sounds of Agatha’s hungry wet hole.

Rio begins to shake in her spot, “I wanted it so bad.”

“Wanted what?”

Her head drops, “To fuck Agatha. To have her whimpering because of me, to give her so much pleasure that she'd be drunk on it. Maybe, maybe I didn't earn it. Hell, I doubt that I deserved it, but I wanted it. She deserved to be worshiped and I thought that would've been enough.”

You can feel Agatha’s breathing quicken at the words, “If you can't handle instructions, you couldn't handle fucking me.”

Your thumb presses against her clit and she throws her head back. You begin sucking harshly on her neck as it becomes more accessible.

You lick a long stripe along her neck sparing a glance at Rio, “Beg for it Rio.”

She’s quick to fall to her knees unceremoniously. Her legs are shaking and you can see her arousal glistening down them. Her eyes are large and filled with tears.

Her voice is hoarse with need as she speaks, “Please, please. I-I can’t watch anymore, I need to- please. Tell me to do something, I’ll do it. I-I can be good. I can listen. I’ll do anything.”

You can feel Agatha clenching around your fingers as she watches Rio beg.

“More,” Agatha growls at Rio.

“Mommy please, I’m sorry. I should’ve listened. I shouldn’t have been so bratty. I was bad, but not anymore. Please, touch me. Let me touch you. Anything, please,” Rio cries fully now.

Agatha begins to rock her hips against your fingers, “Ask Y/n.”

“Daddy please, I’m sorry for being such a slut in your classroom. I need you, I’ll do better, I’ll be better. You don’t have to share, you can own me. Please, please, please.”

Agatha’s body jerks forward as she cums. Your arm around her waist is the only thing keeping her grounded. You slow your fingers, waiting for her to ride out her orgasm before removing them from her cunt. They find their way into her mouth and she sucks them delicately.

“Come here,” you murmur to Rio.

She stands, quickly walking over to you. You unhook your arm from around Agatha, using that hand to lightly grip Rio’s jaw. She nearly flinches in anticipation from your grasp.

You swipe at her tears with your thumb. Slowly you pull her face towards you while craning your neck up to her. You kiss her and it’s a fragile thing. You can feel her holding back. Trying to restrain herself, from taking more than you’re willing to give.

She whimpers into your mouth and her legs begin trembling even more than before. Your eyes widen and you break the kiss.

“Did you just cum?”

Rio’s face tints red with embarrassment, “I-I-"

Agatha intervenes lifting Rio before tossing her gently on the bed, “God, you’re so beautifully pathetic when you listen.”

“I want to taste her, she wants to taste you. I think we can all be winners here,” you look at the tanned woman in a predatory manner.

“Can you handle it baby? You couldn’t even manage a simple kiss, without making a mess of yourself,” Agatha questions her.

“Please, sit on my face mommy,” she pants out.

You decide to give Rio some relief, “Don’t hold back, but I’m telling you right now, I’m not stopping until Agatha cums again. So if you cum before her, we’re going to keep going, understand?”

She nods the best she can, “I understand.”

Agatha grabs Rio’s wrists, holding them above her. The older woman straddles Rio’s head, not loosening her tight hold on the submissive’s wrists.

“You know the signal if it’s too much,” Agatha speaks tenderly.

Again Rio nods the best she can.

That’s the only sign Agatha needs before fully sitting on the woman’s face.

Rio’s legs open for you with the sound of her sticky cunt echoing in your mind. She is absolutely drenched, you can see her clit twitching in anticipation. You can tell she’s sensitive, but you can’t help yourself.

Without hesitation you got straight to sucking her clit. Her back arches off of the bed, and you have to hold her legs in place. You can hear the low groan she let slip into Agatha, causing the other woman to grind down on Rio’s face.

Every calculated thought or worry that you previously had leaves your head as her taste seeps into your brain. All you want to do is make her cum. You eat her sloppily, not holding anything back. You can feel your jaw growing tired from how obsessively you’re eating her out.

You assume she’s doing the same to Agatha as the woman with the unoccupied mouth has not stopped making sounds since Rio’s face has been in her pussy.

When you finally detach your mouth from the woman, you stay close to her cunt. Letting your breath fan over her as you try to form any type of coherent thought.

“I understand why Agatha let you be a brat for so long. Your taste is so intoxicating baby, I just want to drown in it,” you say as you slide your middle finger into her.

You feel her cum instantly at the sensation and it makes your eyes roll back.

“You close professor?” You ask Agatha who only answers by nodding vigorously. “You’re going to give me one more then Rio.”

Feeling your own orgasm build, you began to feel needier. You want to feel Rio against you. So you change your position so that your cunt is aligned with hers. You hold one of her legs up and begin to grind against her.

The feeling of her hot sticky cunt rubbing against yours is bliss. You could feel her hips bucking into yours and it made you smile sadistically.

“Feels so good when you fuck yourself against me like that baby. Make us cum, like you begged for. Show us how desperate you are. Suck her clit, swirl your tongue around it, graze it with your teeth. Make her cum in your mouth, like the good girl you are. Don’t stop meeting my hips either, want you to show me you can multitask.”

Your words send Rio into a frenzy. She begins to speed up her movements, even though her body is fatigued. She works hard to send you both over the edge and she does.

Agatha cums first her hands abandoning Rio’s wrists to grab a fistful of her hair instead. She removes herself from atop of Rio only to meet the woman in a sloppy kiss. Rio doesn’t stop grinding against you even when fresh tears prick her eyes.

“Make daddy cum, baby,” Agatha kisses the top of Rio’s forehead moving stray hairs off of her face.

You fall apart at the same time Rio does, nearly collapsing against her. Agatha’s arms hold you up so you don’t flatten the woman beneath you. You can feel her squirt dripping down your abdomen, which sends a strong aftershock down your entire body.

“Fuck,” you say rubbing your hand against the mess she made on you.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, exhaustion hitting her like a truck.

You shake your head, “You’re perfect.”

Rio blushes and then cover her face with her hands.

Agatha laughs softly at her behavior, “Underneath all that bratty attitude, is one of the softest girls in the world.”

“You’re just a sweetheart trying uphold some bad boy image aren’t you,” you run your hand through Rio’s hair.

She leans into your touch, “I’m a badass.”

You indulge her for a moment, “For sure. I know plenty of badasses who beg mommy and daddy to fuck them.”

She shoots back at you, “Whatever you say miss ‘I don’t share’.”

Agatha intervenes, “As much as this bickering turns me on. I’d say it’s time to clean up, because I’m going to have to wash these sheets before sleeping tonight.”

“So now what?” You prompt.

“Aggie?” Rio’s voice holds a vulnerability to it, “Can I stay?”

Agatha looks at you, a small uncertainty passes through her.

“Let her stay, the brat is growing on me,” you say, smiling down at Rio.

“She tends to have that effect on people,” Agatha also gives her a small smile.

“We usually just eat and watch tv after the mind blowing sex, so don’t expect too much excitement Vidal,” you say, getting out of the bed.

Agatha follows suit and Rio just sits up.

“I’d offer to cook, but I don’t think I can stand right now,” she laughs.

“Do not worry professor, we’ll help get you all cleaned up,” you send her a cheeky wink, before scooping her up in your arms.

She yelps in surprise, but wraps her arms around your neck so she doesn’t fall.

“Well aren’t you charming?”

You smile, “So I’ve been told.”

True to your words, the three of you clean up. It’s a group effort as you shower, Rio seriously having trouble standing up right. Agatha lends you both some comfy clothes to lounge in and you find yourselves on her couch eating takeout and watching Glee (your request).

“So she sent that girl to a crack house?” Agatha questions.

“It’s inactive,” you and Rio say at the same time.

“You two might just be too similar,” Agatha chuckles.

You and Rio share a look.

“Good taste,” you say at the same time.

Agatha rolls her eyes, “A few hours together and she’s already corrupting you, Y/n.”

“I actually think you might be the biggest brat here Agatha. Lying about needing help with the curriculum just so I’d fuck you silly… pretty brat like behavior,” you retort.

Now it’s Agatha that is blushing and Rio who is cackling.

You smile innocently, taking in the moment. Though it’s unconventional, this is something that you hoped you wouldn’t lose. Moments like these that transcended the bedroom always put it into perspective for you. You wanted to build something with these women. Unbeknownst to you they both wanted that very same thing.

[yuckiemouth]

help a girly out here and teach me how to masturbate step by step pls

TMI/OPEN THOUGHTS

Let’s see… I haven’t masturbated in a while because I be busy and my sleep schedule is actually giving me justice, but when I use to stay up, I’ll tell you what I did step by step… man I feel like a teacher 😭

1. PRIVACY

this is obvious, but some idiots get caught, so yeah if you’re able to, LOCK your door, me in a strict house hold, I don’t even have locks, but I never got caught either. So if you don’t have locks on your door or unable to even close it (cuz some parents be doing that), go to the bathroom or better yet, wait til everyone sleep.

If you’re a moaner, pillow rider, vibrator user, dildo user, turn your TV UP!!! Even if you don’t moan, big mama makes SQUELCHING noises, I’m talkin she be wet, so you don’t want no one walking past and be like “WTH?”

2. GET AROUSED.

mindlessly masturbating is such a waste, so I say really set the mood. Turn off the lights or dim them, or better yet LED lights. Optional if you wanna wear sum sexy. To get aroused properly, watch something that you’re attracted to, whether its lesbians, straight sex, BBC, roleplay, etc. whatever that ain’t my business, but if you aren’t able to (say if your parents took your device or your internet is just trash.) USE YOUR IMAGINATION. While imagining whatever you fantasize, caress your inner thighs, knead or suck your own tits, suck your fingers, slowly rub your clit through your underwear, etc.

3. HOW TO MASTURBATE 101 🤓

I ain’t no fingering ass bitch cuz I don’t feel a fuck thing so… As WOMEN, we should know where the clit is (I hope cuz if not where tf have you been?) anyway…. Depending on your anatomy, your clit has a hood (heavy skin) because it’s so fucking sensitive bro. I found out people don’t be feeling nun when they rub big mama is because y’all ain’t pulling the hood up, the mf ain’t cold, take the hood off!! BUT I MUST WARN YOU. Don’t rub yourself too hard because it could be hurtful and could possibly lose feeling on your clitoris, so if you’re rough with your fingers or overly sensitive, keep the hood over it, but if you’re not, PULL IT UP.

Now using your MIDDLE and RING fingers, it’s different strokes people use. The most commonly used one is circulating around it and rubbing side to side. But I’ll tell a little secret.

The way I get off involves 3 techniques.

First, I start off slow, controlled, and even roll my hips with it. Now after some time, I’m aroused, using my arousal as lube y’all hear me out… then i stimulate more by going faster, but soft on the touch. Once I feel like I’m ready, I press harder and go all out, then GOT YA! I’m a edger! I stop when I’m about to cum and slap it a bit to keep her stimulated. Yeah, yeah I know, I get mad TOO when I feel my high go down, but repeating it like 4 times, best nut you’ll experience.

So I circulate, go side to side, and spank her cuz why not. When I’m real horny and feeling rushed, it takes me 10 minutes, but if I have time, 30+.

4. HOW TO CLEAN UP

Now…. Me, this is from experience, I be all over the place. So I go to the bathroom, flush away that water weight, wash my hands and if you’re a squirter (which im not), girl you should already have a towel under you cuz who feel like changing sheets tbh… and NEVER masturbate with underwear, take them off before you even start.

Now people hate talking about it, but YES, masturbating has a smell and you probably won’t smell it because you’re the one doing it, but if another person walk in, they will smell a musky scent SIMPLY because your vagina is an open ORGAN closed with thighs, and you know what creates that? Heat! And you know what heat creates on your body? Sweat. And what SHOULD sweat smell like (since y’all be dirty a lil). MUSK. So to eliminate that smell around the whole room, keep your lower half under covers, use a candle, spray air freshener, keep the air on, inscents or whatever those are called. WHATEVER JUST BLOCK OUT THE SMELL.

And that’s all I got tbh….

[1425fivefive]

the people yearn for virginity landoscar (from the kink prompt ask)

“This is your first time, yeah?”

Oscar sort of wants to laugh. Remind Lando that they fucked last night, that Lando shoved him over the desk in their hotel room and fucked Oscar until he was coming all over the lacquered wood, his cock trapped between his stomach and the smooth surface. They’d cleaned it up after, but Oscar reckons you could probably still see a stain if you looked closely.

But Lando’s looking up at him with a breathless expression and Oscar can tell how much this turns him on. The idea of being the first one to have Oscar like this. 

Oscar wonders how much of it’s some twisted little power play on Lando’s part, a shitty attempt to erase what Oscar told him about Mark. And, like, Oscar had fucked girls before Mark. He hadn’t even been a virgin, technically, but Lando had still been pissy about it for days. Only seemed to get over it when Oscar let Lando fuck him bare for the first time.

But Mark’s been around the paddock more lately and Oscar wonders if maybe Lando needs this. Needs to feel like Oscar’s choosing him. Like whatever was going on between Mark and Oscar didn’t just end because Mark finally felt bad about fucking his twenty-two-year-old mentee while he had a wife and kids at home.

Oscar spreads his legs a bit and says, “Yeah, uh, it’s my first time.”

Lando’s eyes go desperate and dark at that, and he turns his head to the side, sucking a mark into Oscar’s thigh.

Oscar can’t hold back a moan, hips hitching toward Lando, silently begging for his fingers. Would a virgin do that? Probably not, Oscar thinks, but it doesn’t matter when Lando’s grabbing the lube and squirting some onto his hand, bringing his fingers down to rub gentle circles over Oscar’s rim.

“Fuck, Osc,” Lando murmurs, eyes dragging up Oscar’s body to land on Oscar’s face. “Feel so fucking tight.”

Oscar whimpers at that. It’s not an act, not when Lando’s telling Oscar how tight he is in this low voice Lando only uses when Lando’s out of his mind with need.

“You like hearing that?” Lando asks. He dips the tip of one finger into Oscar, just the hint of a stretch. “Like hearing how good you’ll feel around my cock?”

Oscar whines, nods.

“Gonna open you up with my fingers, yeah?” Lando asks, pressing his finger a little deeper. “Get you all nice and wet and open for my cock.”

“Fuck, Lando,” Oscar moans. “God, that’s—” He trails off as Lando pushes his finger in, immediately crooking up, dragging over Oscar’s prostate.

Oscar’s back arches off the bed, fingers scrabbling at the sheets.

Lando grins. “That’s the spot, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Oscar pants, grinding back against Lando’s fingers. “Yeah, I—fuck.”

“Anyone ever touched you here?” Lando asks idly, like he’s not fingering Oscar open, driving Oscar out of his mind with need. “Reckon you had no idea how much you like being touched like this.”

Oscar whimpers and shakes his head, frantic. It almost feels like the truth.

Oscar’s always liked having his ass played with but it feels like no one’s ever touched him there before. Everything feels so incredibly heightened, like maybe his body’s convinced itself that this really is his first time. That his first time wasn’t at Mark’s shitty rented flat in Monaco.

This would’ve been better, Oscar thinks. With the way Lando always pays such close attention to him, to how his body’s reacting, to whether something feels good. Oscar can’t help but think that would’ve been nice. Nicer at least than whatever the fuck Mark did. Pressed Oscar down onto the bed and told him to relax in that gruff voice of his that doesn’t leave any room for argument.

“Gonna give you another,” Lando murmurs. He bends down to press a kiss to Oscar’s stomach and adds, “Okay?”

Oscar’s not sure why he feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. But he nods, whimpering at the feeling of Lando pushing another finger into him.

“Good, Osc,” Lando says softly, starting to fuck his fingers in and out of Oscar, still gentle, so fucking gentle.

When Lando presses a third finger to Oscar’s rim, Oscar must make some noise of discomfort because Lando retreats immediately, pressing a soft kiss to Oscar’s stomach. He ducks his head down and licks over the head of Oscar’s cock, grinning when Oscar lets out a shocked moan.

“Fuck, baby,” Lando breathes, staring up at Oscar with something that looks like awe. “Has anyone ever sucked your cock before?”

Oscar whimpers, shakes his head. It doesn’t feel like a lie.

“Fucking hell,” Lando says, letting out a delirious laugh. “I get to be the first to taste you?”

“Yeah,” Oscar whines, voice high and choked. “Wanted you to be my first.”

“Jesus, I—” Lando doesn’t finish his sentence, just leans down and suck Oscar cock into his mouth, moaning around Oscar’s cock.

Oscar keens, head thrashing to the side, hand flying down to Lando’s curls, desperate to ground himself. But Lando knows exactly how to suck Oscar’s cock, knows that wrapping a loose fist around the base and sliding it in sync with his mouth will have Oscar right on the edge in no time at all. Lando’s showy about it, flashing his eyes up to Oscar’s, grinning around Oscar’s cock, dragging his pink tongue up the length and suckling at the head. It makes Oscar feel insane, makes Oscar worry he might come before Lando even gets his cock in him.

Oscar’s so caught up in it that he almost doesn’t notice Lando pressing a third finger into him, only figures it out when his rim tries to tighten and can’t, stretched too wide around Lando’s thick fingers.

Lando seems to notice Oscar’s rim fluttering uselessly because he pulls off Oscar’s cock with a groan, staring down at where his fingers are disappearing into Oscar.

“God,” Lando moans, fucking his fingers into Oscar, watching Oscar’s rim stretch.

Oscar flushes under the attention, humiliated and turned on by the idea of Lando staring at him there.

“Don’t,” Oscar pleads, thighs trying to close, stopped by Lando’s body between them.

“Why?” Lando asks, still watching his fingers fuck into Oscar, fingers hitting Oscar’s prostate each time. “You’re so pretty down here.”

Oscar lets out a strangled noise, toes curling, fingers tightening on the sheets, body drawing tight tight tight. He doesn’t realize he’s going to come before it’s already happening, his orgasm spilling out of him like he’s letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He’s letting out these awful, shuddering moans, staring down at his cock with a shocked expression as he keeps spurting across his stomach.

Lando lets out a desperate noise but he works Oscar through it, keeps his fingers pressed against Oscar’s prostate, thrusting steadily as Oscar keeps coming.

As Oscar finally stops coming, he slumps against the bed, thighs splaying open, chest heaving.

“Jesus,” Lando breathes, fingers still buried inside Oscar.

Oscar can’t look at him, suddenly, horribly humiliated by how easily he came. He tosses his arms over his eyes, inhaling a shaky breath.

But he feels something wet dragging over his stomach and he has to lift his arms up, looking down to find Lando licking over his stomach, lapping up his come.

“Fuck, Lando,” Oscar breathes. “You don’t—m’sorry.”

Lando pulls off, frowning. “Why’re you sorry?”

“Just like—for coming so early,” Oscar says, flushing at having to say it out loud.

Lando snorts. “All good.” He presses another kiss to Oscar’s stomach, before propping his chin there, smirking up at Oscar. “Guess you really are a virgin.”

Oscar wants to be annoyed but all he can do is let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head.

“Plus, like, we’re young,” Lando says with a shrug. “Reckon you can go again. Still need to, like, officially deflower you and all.”

Oscar’s about to say something, but Lando’s shuffling back down to lick over Oscar’s softening cock, eyes crinkling when Oscar lets out a high, desperate whimper.

[acowardinmordor]

I think when Steve gets Vecna'd, Eddie adds together what he knows about the situation and comes to a logical conclusion. To him at least. He knows that Steve came here asking for heavy drugs and high quantities. He knows that Steve was sounding a hell of a lot like 'sleep' meant something worse.

He knows that Steve is X, and that means all of the horrible things that Eddie knows X thinks about himself, the guy in front of him thinks that too. He knows that Steve, ever since the letters stopped, has been upsetting the freshmen by being distant and cold.

The only assumption he can come up with is that Steve already took something, and it's hit. Or it's causing a reaction. Or its a bad trip.

He has no hesitation about touching him, immediately checks his breathing and his heart rate. It sorta, kinda seems like an overdose, a little bit could be an allergic reaction, but Steve is trembling like he's scared, and his body is stiff. Those explanations don't make perfect sense, so he watches for something that would mean it IS medical, and heads towards his better guess.

Bad Trip.

Steve is high, and is in a bad brain place, and that means he needs to be grounded. Music helps, right? When he was on that bad trip with Rick after his first senior year, Rick put on one of Eddie's tapes, and talked to him. Calm shit. Encouraging shit.

Eddie fully ignores the flickering lights - electrical gets weird in the trailer sometimes - and grabs the mixtape he made for X, and shoves it into his sorta fucky boombox. It's a mix of X's favorite songs, and the ones he mentioned in his own letters. He doesn't know if Steve ever listened to them, but that tape is the only thought he has.

Gets it playing, and grabs hold of Steve's arms. He knows that Steve stopped talking to him. Since Steve knew who he was, and Eddie didn't know who X was, it means Steve probably doesn't care if Eddie wants him to be okay.

Eddie talks about how everyone else feels.

He tells him about how protective Dustin is. How angry Lucas gets anytime anyone says a bad word about Steve. How Eddie has never seen Robin smile so much. How no one judges him for needing to repeat a year. Everyone knows about how hurt he got, and everyone gets it. No one thinks worse of him for it.

He knows his voice isn't exactly calm and soothing, but the longer this insane eye-flutter, non responsive thing goes, the more terrified Eddie is.

"Steve, please, please, it's okay. Just find your way back. try to breathe, try to feel your body, and you'll be okay. I know - I know I've been an asshole to you. I know, okay. But the boys, Robin, shit, fuck, Steve, I need to apologize for shit, so you gotta slow down your breathing. Whatever you're seeing, it isn't real. I promise it's not real, okay? Come back to the real world and I can get you feeling better, I promise. Steve? Steve?"

He doesn't notice at first that Steve is starting to float. He's too focused on his face, the way his eyes are still rolled back. He lets go before he can notice his own hands rising with him. Shits too real, this isn't just a bad trip, he needs help, he needs an ambulance, a cop, anyone that can actually help Steve.

He has the phone in hand, and is about to dial when he turns back, needing to keep looking at him while he begs someone to come fast. He sees Steve in the air.

One step closer, then another. He keeps trying, another whispered sentence or three. But the lights are going crazy, and the music is staticky, the dialtone is screaming, and suddenly Steve is flattened to the ceiling, arms pulling slowly to the sides.

Eddie runs.

Leaves the door swung open as he throws himself into his van. His hands are shaking and he's hyperventilating too hard to notice Max Mayfield sprinting across the road, up the stairs and into the trailer. He's pulling away, when Max screams as Steve falls.

He hears the scream, he hears and feels the heavy thump of a weight hitting the ground. He knows what that sound must mean.

Eddie runs.

Behind him with the tape still playing, Max holds onto a terrified Steve, who has trickles of blood on his cheeks, and bruises blooming on his arms.

Steve, alive, cursed, who immediately asks if Eddie is safe.

[rosedere]

Aquamarine (Floyd Leech x Fem reader)

CW:Forced Transformation (human), Drugging(magic), Attempted non con, Forced mating, Mer marking.

“So if I jump, your for sure going to catch me” You crossed your arms, looking once more down the rocky embankment that was littered around the small island the school resided on.

You were already on edge because of the whole rule about not being allowed to roam off campus; let alone being caught in your skimpy swimsuit. It would be social suicide if anyone caught you with this much skin out.

Or if you were caught with Floyd.

Since you were a girl...

He was the only one who knew you were a female anyway; everyone assumed you were like Epel, a feminine boy from another world. It wasn't like anything bad would happen if anyone knew in theory…

Everyone already would let their eyes linger a little too long on your school uniform ranging from a few of the housewardens and some of your closest friends enough to where it would make you feel uneasy; news spreading about you being a girl would only exacerbate their stares or worst.

it’s why you trusted Floyd as a Confidant and friend here in the otherworldly school.

”Come on (name) the potions about to kick in,” Floyd's nasally voice called from below in the deep, dark blue water below the cliffs edge.

”You didn't answer my question at all!” You huffed, crossing your arms around your chest. “Plus, I hate this bathing suit you brought me—why couldn't you have found an old shirt or something?” you shouted from the edge of the cliff.

Your head was spinning as you saw the distance from the cliff to the water and the rocky, jagged landforms poking out below. Squatting, you sat down with your legs dangling over the vertical ledge, still covering your chest from the merman, only mischievously looking up at your trembling legs.

”I won't answer them until you jump in~”

The sound of his nasally laugh was all you could positively hear from the ledge.

You only looked down at him with unamusement, he knew you hated swimming this was just torture.

”Fine, wait there—“ He sunk into the water, only leaving his face fins treading the waves passing over him.

It was true the potion he gave you was still on you; you didn’t swallow any of it. 

But you could take the glowing green liquid in the noculious shell bottle. 

Or jump in and not fall for his prank he was going to play on you.

Whatever it may be...

”Fine! I will—“ you chortled to yourself as you let your dangling feet hang on the other side of the cliff.

His eyes only stayed in their usual frumpy, lopsided position as he looked over the water rushing to collide with the tall cliff. You smugly looked down at him, pretending you were going to jump, only backing away, watching the mer get annoyed.

“You didn't drink it, did you (Name)”

“No, I took a whiff, and it smelled like you,” you teased.

You were expecting him to come back with a playful insult.

But he was dead serious as he looked up at you from under the waves.

“Well… I guess I'll just have to tell everyone about your secret”

You only laughed this off, his webbed face growing shriveled with annoyance at your playful attitude.

“I mean it (name)” 

His voice sounded a bit more aggressive, feral even.

“Get in”

Finally realizing he was actually angry, you looked down at the vial.

“Why do you want me to drink this Floyd?” You furrowed your brow, feeling the bottle's curves once more.

“It's so you can help me with something,” he vaugly added.

“Why can't you get Jade to help you?” You frowned. “You know I don't know how to swim.”

“Because you're a human, it'll be easier for you to do it,” he bobbed in the water.

You looked down at the vial. You already knew you weren't going to like how it smelled and looked radioactive: The fishy seaweed smell was overwhelming coming out of the small plugged glass. You glanced back down towards Floyd, seemingly waiting.

“Fine, but if this thing kills me, Im going to haunt your slimy ass forever,” you huffed.

"Nah, go ahead (name)”

“Drink it”

This time you bring the vial closer to your face, opening the small cork taking a whiff of the potion.

You retched a bit as you kept it away from your face.

“How much do I need to drink?”

“All of it~” Floyd happily replied below.

Grabbing the vial with your right hand, you breathed in.

Just get this over with so he leaves you alone for the day.

You pinched the tip of your nose before throwing the vial's contents in your mouth. Feeling the warm liquid slide down your throat, leaving the vial empty, you tossed it to the side of the rocky surface you were sitting on.

“Jump in shrimpy,” Floyd swam back and forth.

“Hurry before the potion mixes.”

Silently looking down at the waves, you swallowed your nerves. Getting up on your shaky legs, you decided to get a running start before jumping.

Lunging, you let yourself jump over the edge.

In only seconds, you felt yourself be enveloped by the cold water. Only once you hit the bottom of the sandy shoals with your feet did a large, long shadow appear over you in the murky water.

Pushing up from the silty sand as you'd been taught, you felt your feet glide through the water.

Until you felt a harsh grip grab the back of your neck with sharp talons.

Claws, the points reminding you of a raccoon as it digged into your flesh. You wanted to scream, but you only had a little air left. Fighting against the creature that was pulling at you, trying to keep you from surfacing, kicking into the meaty tail of the creature, frantically grabbing it's finned muscular arm's reaching around wrestling with you.

Suddenly, when you kicked one of the times trying to connect with the teal tail in front of you, however...

Your leg wasn't moving like normally, feeling as if your leg fell asleep. You worried you were about to lose circulation in then from how hard the creature was wrapping itself around you.

Looking down, your eyes almost bulged from your sockets as you saw what was in front of your body.

Long golden and red scales enfused with your skin, your feet now replaced with a long flared tail, golden shimmers and sparkles were all that was left on the bottom.

You temporarily forgot the fight, only looking down at your new legs. 

“Aww shrimpy, your tail is beautiful,” you heard Floyd's voice coming from your aggressor.

Finally twirling around, you saw who it was behind you. Floyd was in his true mer form, the bioluminescent spots glowing under the dark waves his face fins trilling in the water.

“What did you make me drink?” you gritted your teeth, “Change me back, now”

“Yeah, I'll change you back (Name)” Floyd swam around you, letting his long tail entertwine with your finer tip one.

“Once you help me with this small task,” he smiled, Suddenly the water felt warm; initially,  you assumed it was because you were both next to each other as the current swept around your skin.

Floyd suddenly unhinged his mouth at you.

It looked to be a yawning motion, but as he did this, he would hit you with his tail before doing the motion.

Confused to all hell you only copied him, wacking him in the tail with your smaller one before you opened your mouth in a yawn.

The smile that crept onto his face was an eerie one, seeing the sharp, blunt-shaped teeth mouth.

“I'm glad to see it's mutual, Shrimpy.”

You were about to question him, the words on the tip of your tongue.

Until he violently lunged at you once more.

You could only gasp as you felt his teeth sink onto the side of your neck; the crunch of the new scales adorning your collarbone was all you heard. You thrashed, but it was pointless since his tail was still entertwined into your shimmery one.

Sinking down towards the sandy bottom as he kept biting harder, you thought he was trying to kill you. Only as he kept biting you started to feel woozy, almost like a drunk state. You felt like up was down and down was somewhere.

Your mind feeling like it was in a washing machine. Floating helplessly as Floyd began to intertwine himself further around you, squeezing the top of your hips.

The pain from his biting was subdued, though you couldn't even notice he was clawing violently around your mer form, only feeling sensitive around your tail area.

After a while of rubbing your tails together, you felt his clawed paws rub up and down your sides.

His face was annoyed as he kept repeating the motion.

“Aww, what a bummer, Shrimpy doesn't lay eggs yet,” he growled, “A shame, I thought our species would be compatible; I've seen different types of carp mate I thought it would work.” His tail was still wrapped around you, feeling it slither around the bottom of your sensitive tail. You were too dazed to reply, only blinking.

“At least I was able to mark you, Better to do it before we mate anyway so you can't run from me,” he tickled your navel with his lone claw.

“Besides where I'm taking you, there's too many mers that would love a mate with a desirable tail like yours.” 

He was rambling to himself—something about a sea witch he found that could make the transformation permanent.

Floyd wrapped up in his fantasy; your eyes glassy with sorrow as you were carried on his black as he rode the current, your tail fanning behind him, taking you into the depths of the deep ocean.

-

Note: This was requested by: Boo_Its_Poochie_Roo on AO3🩷

(also shh don’t mind me just finally catching the blog up with my AO3 bc I’ve been LAZY)

[athens-09xx]

Hi lovely! I was wondering if you could write a best friends to lovers seungmin x fem reader

Just cute fluff maybe a little angst?

“The space between us”

Bsf!Seungmin x fem! Reader

Summary: you accidentally blurted out to your beat friend that you were in-love with him, now he’s been ignoring you for the last two weeks, will it work out?

Warnings: none that i can think of! Just a little bit angsty.

A/N: its 3 am as i write this please ignore any mistakes

__________________________________________________

The streets were empty that evening, the chill of early autumn in the air. Y/n stood on the porch of her apartment, a cup of tea in hand, staring at the misty streetlights that flickered in the distance. Her thoughts were far away, trailing back to a conversation she hadn’t wanted to have. It had been coming for a while, she knew that. She’d just hoped it wouldn’t feel like this.

It had been two weeks since she’d seen Seungmin, her puppy like friend. and now, with the weight of silence between them, Y/n wasn’t sure what to do anymore. Their friendship had always been easy—

effortless, even. But something had changed after that night at the diner, after she’d blurted out the truth that had been gnawing at her for months.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

She could still hear those words echoing in her head, the way his expression had shifted, the way his gaze had hardened, but he hadn’t said anything. Not immediately. Just a quiet, lingering pause, followed by a quick "I need to go."

She couldn’t blame him for needing space. The truth had come out of nowhere, a bomb in the middle of a friendship that had felt like it was built on something solid, something unshakeable. But the truth, no matter how much it burned, was a weight Y/n had carried for too long. And now, she was left with the aftermath of it all—uncertainty, and the painful stretch of time in between when things had been normal, and when they hadn’t.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and for a second, she thought it was just her mind playing tricks. But no—there it was, a text from Seungmin, his contact photo lighting up her screen as she reads the message.

“Can we talk?”

The words were simple, but Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. (Or two) It had been so long since she’d heard from him, so long since he’d reached out. She’d been waiting for this moment with a sense of dread and anticipation, and now, the time had come.

She quickly typed back, trying to keep her response calm, collected.

“Of course. When?”

A pause. Then, a reply.

“Can I come by in 10 minutes?”

Y/n felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if she was ready, but she nodded to herself, as if convincing her mind that she could handle this. After all, they were best friends. They had always been able to figure things out. It was just that... this was different. He would react different would he?

She set her tea down on the porch railing and went inside to quickly straighten up her apartment. She didn’t know what to expect from this conversation. She only knew that whatever happened next would change everything. In either the best way possible or she would forever miss her puppy of a best friend.

________________________^^________________________

When the knock came, Y/n was already standing by the door. She opened it to find Seungmin standing there, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, his expression unreadable. His hair was a little longer than she remembered, his face a little more tired. But when his eyes met hers, Y/n couldn’t help the rush of warmth that flooded her chest.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me,” Seungmin said, his voice hesitant, but not quite as distant as it had been in the past two weeks.

Y/n swallowed. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me.”

He let out a small, almost bitter laugh. “Fair enough.”

She stepped aside to let him in, her heart pounding a little faster than it should. She led him to the couch, both of them sitting a little too far apart, the space between them stretching like a vast ocean neither one of them was ready to cross.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Y/n felt the tension in the air, thick and heavy, as if the words they needed to say were trapped between them.

“I’m sorry,” Seungmin finally said, breaking the silence. He turned his gaze to the floor, not looking at her. “I shouldn’t have run off like that. It wasnt right of me after you said th- that...”

Y/n shook her head, her breath shaky. “No, I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. I didn’t—"

“You don’t need to apologize, Pabo-“ Seungmin cut her off, his voice quieter. “I just... I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Y/n bit her lip, her gaze falling to her hands. “I shouldn’t have said anything at all.”

“No,” Seungmin said, his tone firm now, as if he were trying to convince both of them. “You should’ve. You should have said it sooner. I just... I didn’t know how to respond.”

The silence stretched again, both of them wrestling with words they didn’t quite know how to say. Finally, Y/n spoke, her voice small. “Do you feel the same way?”

Seungmin didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze toward her, his eyes dark with something unreadable.

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice low. “I think I do, but I’ve been avoiding it. Avoiding you. Because I don’t want to ruin everything we’ve built. I don’t want to mess it up.”

Y/n’s chest tightened at the admission. She had feared this. She had feared that even if he felt something, it wasn’t enough. And now, hearing him say it out loud was like a blow to her heart.

“I don’t want to mess it up either,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “But I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this way.”

Seungmin let out a long breath, his hand running through his hair. “I know. I’ve been pretending too, Y/nnie.. I’ve been pretending that we can just go back to how things were, but... I don’t think we can. Not after what you said.”

Y/n nodded slowly, her throat tight. “I don’t think we can either.”

Seungmin’s eyes softened, the hardness from before slowly melting away. His dark eyes shining slightly. He leaned forward slightly, his voice quieter now. “Do you think it’s too late for us?”

Y/n looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in weeks, something in her chest unknotted. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe it was just the beginning of something new, something terrifying and beautiful and uncertain all at once.

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice full of vulnerability. “But I want to try. I want to try to figure it out with you.”

Seungmin’s lips tugged upward in a small, hesitant smile. “Me too.”

He reached out then, slowly, as if giving her the space to pull away if she wanted to. But y/n didn’t pull away. She let him take her hand, her face heating softly as there fingers interlace in the space between them.

For the first time in what felt like forever, y/n felt the weight in her chest lift. There were no guarantees, no promises of what came next. They were standing on the edge of something uncertain, but they were standing together.

“I’m scared,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I am too,” Seungmin said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “But maybe it’s worth the risk.”

Y/n nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek before she could stop it. “Maybe it is.”

They didn’t need to say anything more. Their hands still entwined, they sat in the quiet, letting the tension settle, letting themselves breathe in the space between them, knowing that whatever came next—whatever happened to their friendship—would be something they would face together.

Authors notes: eek!!! This is the first ever little one shot I’ve ever written! I hope people enjoy it, i feel like i made Minnie out of character a bit for this one but i just felt right this way? Let know what you think! HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVE TO MY FELLOW AUSSIES ASWELL!!!!

[animeomegas]

MtL - Likely to worry if his alpha uses his given name instead of a pet name

(Incl. Iruka, Chouji, Shino, Neji, and Shikamaru.)

A/N: This is a Christmas gift for the wonderful @omeganronpa!!!! It's nothing crazy this year because of the ol' arm situation, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! I wish you a very relaxing and merry Christmas and want you to know that I am honoured to have lived yet another year with you as my friend <3333

And a very merry Christmas and happy Hanukkah to everyone!! 🎉

Warnings: Non-descriptive allusions to sex.

LEAST

Chouji

A normal, well adjusted king, we stan.

Pet names sometimes come into the relationship, but Chouji is equally okay with being called Chouji.

That's his name, why should he worry or feel weird? He doesn't have a guilty conscience like some others on this list 👀

In fact, he actually loves to hear his name from your lips. The soft voice, the love, the sing song tone. He revels in it.

There's something about you using his given name with him in private that makes him feel seen. You see him, all of him, the real him, and you love him.

And that's the most precious gift he could have.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: His name or babe usually. Occasionally, super sweet ones like sweetheart or sugarplum, said with complete earnest.

Neji

Neji also likes to go by his actual name a lot of the time, so it doesn't raise any red flags for him to hear it fall from your lips.

Much like Chouji, he finds it entirely logical for you to use his given name, and he never assumes you're mad at him.

I only put him a bit higher on the list because he can sometimes get finickity about what you call him in bed.

If you call him by his real name, but you don't use a super gentle, loving tone, he doesn't like it and he WILL get grumpy.

It makes him feel a bit unloved, like the sex is transactional and you're just saying what you think you have to say.

He wants you to call him darling, prince, my love, or any other classic pet name when you're ravishing him, and if you have to use his name, it better be whispered into his skin with hushed reverence befitting the worship of a god.

Otherwise he can sometimes get upset. And because he's Neji, he won't say why he's upset, he'll just pout about it until you notice.

This issue doesn't crop up that often, but it's been known to happen, hence his slightly higher ranking on the list.

My beautiful princess with a disorder, please talk to me.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: He adores the classic but slightly fancier pet names, such as darling, my love, prince(ss). And he's always willing to accept appearance based names, like beautiful, too.

Iruka

When it's just the two of you, or you're in the presence of close friends or family, you always call him Ruka.

Because he's your Ruka at home, just like he's Iruka sensei at the academy, or 'the shouty chunin' at the missions desk.

So it absolutely stands out if you suddenly call him Iruka and he will notice straight away.

But he's still on the terrifyingly small list of mostly well-adjusted shinobi, so he's not going to panic.

He kind of assumes that you're starting a conversation about something more serious when you use his full name. He zones in, fully focused, ready to problem solve whatever has happened.

This has the unfortunate consequence of snapping him out of intimate moments when you use his full name.

Iruka sat on the bed trying his best not to fidget with the comforter as he stared at the bathroom door. His mind was racing with possibilities and no amount of deep breathing or internal arguments about restraint were controlling them.

It had been an entirely normal day ten minutes ago. He'd taught his classes, covered for a few hours at the mission's desk for a sick colleague, and then stopped by a convenience store on the way home so that he didn't have to cook.

Not that you let him in the kitchen anyway.

But then you'd approached him, all coy smiles and well-placed touches, telling him that you had a surprise for him, but that you needed a few moments to get changed and that he should wait on the bed.

So now he was here, on the bed as directed, eagerly anticipating the opening of the ensuite door. Should he get undressed in preparation? No, no, that would probably be weird. But maybe he should take his hair down? Yes that sounded good; you loved his hair down and it would give him something to do while he waited.

He pulled it down and spent a few moments running his fingers through it and trying to arrange it as best he could, but then it was done and you still hadn't opened the door.

He just needed to be patient, you shouldn't be much longer.

Although that was easier said than done when his underwear was becoming uncomfortably wet.

There! He could hear shuffling approaching the bathroom door. He straightened himself out, ready.

"Iruka?" you called from behind the door.

He blinked as he registered his full name. Oh no. Don't tell him something had gone wrong. He was so looking forward to this! His mind conjured images of disaster. Maybe the outfit had ripped? Or you had accidentally hurt yourself? Or the sink had broken and was now spewing water everywhere.

"What's wrong?" he asked, getting up from the bed and approaching the door. "Are you okay?"

The door opened, and you stood on the other side, blinking at him in confusion. He tried not to focus too much on the new lingerie. There was a problem to solve first, he couldn't get distracted.

"Yes?" you answered, the question clear in your voice. "Why are you at the door? I told you to wait on the bed."

Before his mind could catch up, he asked, "Is the sink broken?"

There was a pause.

"Why on earth would the sink be broken?" You sounded entirely baffled.

"Well, I'm not sure, but-"

"Did you do something to the sink?"

"No!" he defended, crossing his arms over his chest. "I haven't touched the sink."

"Then why are you asking about it???"

"Because... because..." Iruka paused when he realised how stupid it would sound to explain that he'd assumed something was wrong because you called him by his full given name. He rubbed at his scar bashfully. "It doesn't matter, sorry, I was being... never mind, don't worry about it."

You blinked at him, and he coughed awkwardly.

"Okaaaaaay," you drawled, stepping back into the bathroom. "Should I close the door again and pretend this never happened?"

"Please."

"Right."

And when you opened the door this time, he was waiting on the bed, stunned speechless by your lingerie and ready to end his normal day in a particularly extraordinary way, bathroom sink forgotten.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: Ruka is his favourite by a wide margin. He doesn't mind babe or baby either, nor omega specific names.

Shino

If you're in public, he fully expects you to use his actual name.

In fact, it's for the best that you do, because pet names in public will make him embarrassed enough to try and hide in his coat.

But when you're at home, just you and him... he will immediately assume you're upset with him or signalling a need for space if you use his given name.

Because Shino basks in the loving pet names you lavish him with. He doesn't have to be Shino with you, or at least, he doesn't have to just be Shino with you. He can be your love, your honey bun, your sunshine.

Every time one of those names is whispered in his ear or spoken against his lips, Shino squirms in pure joy. There is nothing else that can brighten his day so quickly and effectively.

And you can absolutely get creative with pet names for Shino!

Excluding the most ridiculous ones, and some of the appearance based ones, Shino loves them all.

But calling him his name is :(((

He will anxiously and sadly wring his hands together every time 🥺

You let out a relieved breath through your nose as you finished the penultimate page of the paperwork you'd been forced to bring home.

One more. Just one more and you were free for the evening, then you could run it by the jounin commander tomorrow morning, and this whole situation could be behind you.

Work disasters were the absolute worst.

You took in one more big breath before letting it out slowly. One more. You could do one more.

But just as your pen was about the make contact on the paper, movement from the corner of your eye drew your attention out of the little paperwork bubble you'd cocooned yourself in. It was Shino. He was lurking in your periphery like a shadow, idly rearranging knick knacks on the shelf but glancing over in your direction every five seconds.

Now that you were aware of him, you were also aware of the anxiety swirling in his scent. You may have wanted to get this paperwork done and out of your life as soon as possible, but you could hardly ignore your mate's unusual behaviour now that you had been made aware of it.

"Shino?" His head snapped to you instantly. "Are you okay?"

He dropped the eye contact and went back to fiddling with a rock from the shelf. "I'm fine," he said simply, the lie extremely obvious.

"Shino..." To your surprise, he flinched. What?

"I'm... fine." The lie was somehow even more obvious this time. He was either consciously or subconsciously hoping to pull your attention onto him with a lie so blatant.

You stared at him intently, trying to figure out what was wrong. Why would he...?

Oh. Your face relaxed into understanding when you figured out what you'd done.

"What's wrong, lovebug?" You made an effort to push as much affection into your tone as you could. He looked at you again, some surprise colouring his gaze. You patted the seat next to you on the couch in invitation. He immediately accepted, coming over in quick steps and slotting himself against your side. You pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "Is this better, lovely?"

Shino hummed gently, resting his head in the juncture of your shoulder. You grumbled a comforting noise to reassure him.

"I think this paperwork kept me in work mode even after I'd got home," you explained. "I forgot that it was just us here."

Shino hummed again, acknowledging and forgiving you in one noise.

"All the more reason to get this paperwork over and done with so we can relax. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes. Is that alright, honey bun?"

He purred his approval, so you returned to the paperwork, but this time, you had one hand focused on holding your omega.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: Anything extremely cute and sweet will make him melt. Honey, sweetie, lovely, etc. Lovebug is one of his special favourites 🤭

Shikamaru

Two words: Guilty Conscience.

He's another one who goes by a shortened name by default, Shika, so calling him Shikamaru will immediately grab his attention.

And he will assume he's in trouble with you every single time.

Sometimes it's pretty funny to watch, but other times his stomach drops and his mind races to try and figure out what you could be mad about.

And during those dramatic times, because Shikamaru can't be normal for even five minutes, he oftentimes jumps to worse case scenarios where he's failing to make his obsession happy and you might leave him because of it.

You never know which response you're going to get when you call him Shikamaru. He's either going to claim his innocence in regards to an imaginary misstep, or Panic™️.

The only exception to the rule is during moments of heightened emotions and extreme vulnerability.

For example, if he's very sad, saying "oh, Shikamaru..." will push him over the edge into tears immediately.

And groaning out his full name at the moment of your orgasm is a one hit K.O. for him without fail.

If you want to avoid the Nara dramatics, better stick to Shika most of the time 😉

"Shikamaru?" He heard your voice clearly from his position on the tatami mats of his office where he was playing a solo game of shogi. Usually, hearing your voice after a long day was a balm that soothed the nerves he hadn't even realised had been frayed, but now, those same nerve ends were crackling with the beginnings of anxiety.

Oh no.

You had used his given name. That couldn't mean anything good.

Shikamaru uncrossed his legs and stood from the floor as his mind raced. He could see the situation clearly in his head. You had come home from work, exhausted, and immediately been confronted by some kind of chore or errand that Shikamaru has said he would run on his day off and then fucking forgot about like he always did! Now you were going to be annoyed with him and his plans for a peaceful evening would go up in smoke because he couldn't even remember what he was supposed to be apologising for.

He heard your footsteps coming up the stairs. "Shikamaru? You in your office?"

Think, think, think! What did you ask him to do? There must have been something! Probably something you could have seen not long after walking through the door, likely in the living room or kitchen.

Shikamaru tugged on his ponytail in frustration as your footsteps reached the landing, just outside his door.

Did he have to wash the cushion covers in the living room? No, he did that last week and there was no need to do them again so soon. Did he promise to make dinner in time for your arrival home? No, no, he specifically remembered you saying that you were going to cook dinner together tonight. Then what could it possibly-

As the door swung open, the answer struck him like a bolt of lightning.

"There you are! Why are you just standing in the middle-"

"I didn't buy soy sauce!" Shikamaru blurted, his voice much louder than he had intended.

You jumped at his shout, blinking at him in surprise. Shikamaru felt the rush of heat that flooded his cheeks. He awkwardly cleared his throat and tried again.

"I forgot to buy soy sauce today." He managed to keep his voice somewhat level this time. "I'm sorry. Really, I didn't mean to forget, it's completely my fault."

Shikamaru tried to analyse your face to see how well his apology had landed, but all he saw was confusion. Right, that made sense. You were confused as to why he was apologising when he should be just going out to fix it.

"Sorry, I'll go and grab some now, it shouldn't take long." When he tried to move past you, you grabbed his arm and halted him.

"You forgot to buy- what? No, I only asked in a 'if you happen to go out today' kind of way, you don't have to go out now, it's not a big deal." You squeezed his arm. "Relax, it's fine."

"But, but we're going to cook dinner together tonight," Shikamaru protested.

"And we'll live without soy sauce for one night." You stared at his face, eyes narrowed like you were trying to solve a puzzle. "What's got into you today?"

Shikamaru's thoughts whirled for a moment, trying to figure out if that question was some kind of trap that would soon reveal the real reason you were upset with him. But soon the energy needed to keep up that level of questioning collapsed, and instinctively, he moved to directness.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked, hating the insipid imagery of needy omegas that jumped to mind at the question. This was so stupid, what was he doing?

Your brows furrowed and you gently cupped his face in your hands. Shikamaru shivered as you ran your thumbs against the space underneath his eyes.

"No," you said softly. "Did you think I was?"

His mouth feels dry all of a sudden and he can't form the words, so he just nods. You coo at him, a deep noise in your throat, and Shikamaru is embarrassed at how well it drains the stress from his muscles.

"I'm not angry, Shika. I'm so happy to be home with you, my love."

With your use of his shortened name, the last anxious fog clears and Shikamaru is left only with the stark and sudden realisation that he was being absolutely ridiculous.

You must have noticed the clarity returning to his eyes because you laughed. You laughed at him, all gleeful and knowing. The heat returned to his cheeks and he dropped his head onto your shoulder.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." He could hear the smile in your voice.

"These instincts are more trouble than they're worth."

"You're such a liar, Shika."

Yeah... yeah, he was.

Preferred pet names for you to use for him: Shika is the go-to, but as long as the pet name is simple and mostly serious (babe, omega etc.) he's fine with it. If you call him something ridiculous like pookie or nugget, he will assume you are making fun of him. And if you aren't making fun of him, he'll make fun of you for thinking it was a good idea.

MOST

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Days of Yore

Warnings: some dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: You show up uninvited but are welcomed nonetheless.

Character: Geralt of Rivia

Day Twenty-Five of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt -an unexpected guest at the holiday get together.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Wow,” you gape up at the immaculate array of lights strung across the facade. “This place is amazing. Who’s house is this?” 

“A friend of a friend’s, I don’t know,” Wendy shrugs. 

“A friend... Oh? Are you sure it’s okay we’re here?” You wonder with a furrow between your brows. You now feel a bit foolish for getting all done up when you might not even have been invited. 

“Open invite! Besides, no one will notice,” she assures you. 

“Right,” you mutter doubtfully. 

“Loosen up. What else do you got going on, huh?” She grabs your hand and pulls you through the open iron gates. They accentuate the medieval effect of the house. Now you don’t feel done up enough. 

“Not much, I guess,” you admit. If anything, you’ll get a bit of free food then ditch. It's not the first time you’ve unintentionally party-crashed with your wayward friend. 

“You know Sienna, it will be fine,” she tuts and comes up to the front doors.  

Again, you’re awed by the aesthetic of it all. You notice that the lights aren’t coloured, but only white, and the decor doesn’t bear the typical Santa or candy cane theme. In fact, it all has a historic tint. Traditional in a strange way. Dried oranges hung on long strings and holly twisted into bunches. For a moment, you’re remind of that dusty history degree hidden in the back of your closet. 

Wendy knocks with the heavy iron knocker. She waits and chatters as she wiggles her legs below her short skirt. She didn’t dress for the temperature. She searches the door frame and grumbles. 

“You think someone who could afford this place would have a doorcam or something,” she chuffs out a cloud of steam. 

The door opens and startles you both. You look over as Wendy as good as jumps inside. She seizes the woman who keeps a hand on the door. 

“Kami! You look... nice,” she holds her and gives her an eye up and down, “is this velvet?” She drags her hands down the green fabric. 

“Designer,” Kami pushes away her touch. “You brought a friend.” 

“Yeah, Sienna said so--” 

“Mm, sure, it’s just... whatever. No one will notice,” Kami rolls her eyes. “You have to come. Lucas has the funniest story! I was just dying.” 

Your shoulders fall and you clasp your hands together. You trail after, unwelcome and unacknowledged. Uninvited. You frown and silently configure how you can excuse yourself and leave. If you wait long enough, Wendy will forget about you. It might be easier to sneak out. 

You stop to hang your coat with all the rest and Kami makes a point of telling you to take your boots off. The floors are old wood, polished and well-kept. The entire house is immaculate. An antique on its own. 

You follow them into a high-ceilinged room adorned in strings of threaded popcorn and dried clusters of flowers. The air is fragrant as mulled cider steams in a heated bowl on a table, copper cups waiting to be filled, and dishes of appetizers in a line. The smell makes your stomach churn hungrily. 

“Who the hell owns this place?” Wendy asks the question nibbling on your ears. 

“Oh, he’s a funny guy,” Kami chuckles. “A bit... eccentric. Sienna’s been trying to loosen him up a bit, I mean... look at this house. That’s a good bag.” 

You try not to show your disapproval. You don’t have much luck with men but hearing the way some of your friends talk about them, you don’t know that you’re cut out for it all. It really doesn’t seem that anyone is out for a genuine connection, they just want a good set-up.

Can you really blame them? You’ve been handwashing your clothes since your building hiked up the machine prices. Turns out a couple quarters can really break the bank. 

Your guilt compounds as you realise that you’ve cosigned this entire extortionate affair. This party seems to have been a ploy by a hopeful prize winner. You know Sienna and she’s always sure to show you her Fenti and point out the label, though she can never remember the name of the man who bought it. 

“So what? He gave her full run to do all this? It's not really her... style. I expected more pink,” Wendy scoffs. 

“Nope, he’s a tight ass apparently. They were up for nights making the decorations and the food.” 

“What?” She squeals in surprises as your whispers from your mouth. That’s a lot of work. 

“Very old-fashioned,” Kami remarks. “But he’s not just rich you know, he’s fucking hot.” 

“Ah, jackpot,” Wendy giggles. 

You keep behind them, as good as hiding behind them. You bob and clutch your purse as Lucas excitedly hugs Wendy and Sienna drunkenly echoes him. You know a few of the partygoers standing with them but none of them even look in your direction. It seems Wendy’s already forgotten you. 

This is why you said no at first. This is how it always goes but she begged and begged, guilting you fro making her show up alone. What about you? Why is it okay to ditch you every time? 

You glance around. There are just as many strangers and none of them seem eager to mingle past their trio or pairing. You wish Wendy mentioned the dress code. You don’t think your H&M clearance rack attire is very suiting. 

As an elbow hits your arm, you back up. No apology. You’re a piece of decor to these people. You back up and turn. Well, no one else seems to want to indulge. What a weird party. 

You go to the table and take a cup. It’s times like these that you enjoy being invisible. College was tough, you longed to be noticed, to be like the other girls. Since then, you’ve grown comfortable with just being there. It’s much safer. 

You ladle the cider into a mug and the steam roils from the top. A slice of blood orange and a few cranberries float in the rich amber liquid. You blow over it and retreat. The warmth is a comfort. It makes you feel a little less out-of-place. 

As you turn, you nearly collide with another. You bring your other hand up to steady the cup and barely keep from sloshing the cider all over. You squeak and step back on your heel, your eyes skimming up the large figure in front of you.  

You haven’t seen eyes like those since... 

“Geralt?” You utter dumbly. 

He looks down at you. He looks different but not. He always had his own vibe. The white hair, the bright eyes, he wore his individuality without meaning too. Yet some things are his own doing. 

When you were in Early Modern History or Medieval Weaponry and Warfare together, he always dressed as if the clocks were set back to the Victorian era. Stiff jackets, high collared shirts, even a pocket watch. He was a bit of a dweeb then but too big for anyone to say so. And he was the only person who wanted to talk about history outside the lectures. 

Now he wears a tunic, silver trim on black, slightly less stuffy but just as dated. Half of his hair is twisted back behind his head, the tails of it spilling past his shoulders. 

He says your name and tilts his head, “I didn’t invite you.” 

It’s a statement that makes your heart sink. You peer down at your cup then around the room. “I’m sorry, my friend, she knows Sienna, she--” 

“It’s good to see you,” he interrupts. “It’s been a very long time.” 

You wince and dare to look at him again. “Yes, college was a while ago.” You slanted your lips and press your hands to the hot metal cup. “This is your house? It’s very nice.” 

“It is. I don’t often entertain, so mind the cobwebs,” he intones. He still has that way of speaking; so matter-of-fact. “It wasn’t my idea.” 

“Mm, right,” you nod. 

“Is the cider good? I found the recipe in an old journal from 1764.” 

“Of course you did,” you hold back a laugh. 

“Of course...” he begins to repeat curiously. 

“It’s all very you, is all,” you say. 

“I suppose,” he agrees. 

You smile shakily and swallow. You make yourself try the cider. It’s hot but not scalding. A very spiced. Not in a bad way, you just don’t expect that much. 

“Mm, it’s... heady.” 

“Mulled for days,” he explains. He shifts on his feet and smooths his tunic. “Can I show you something?” 

“Um, sure,” you accept. “It’s not the door, is it?” 

He lets out a small snort, “leave the cider.” 

You peer around and he takes the cup from you. He puts it down on a leather coaster on a tall wooden table and beckons you after him. You peek back as you sense a hush and notice that Sienna and the rest of them are watching. Great, they already don’t care much for you. 

Geralt stops and waits for you to catch up to him. The staircase is wide enough for both of you. Your ascent is quiet, almost torturously so. 

“You did not bring a boyfriend?” He asks. 

You nearly laugh at the abrupt question. You get to the top of the stairs and he gestures you left. 

“Well, I’d bring my cat. He’s the only guy sleeping in my bed,” you kid. 

He hums but doesn’t comment. 

“So, how’d you meet Sienna?” You ask. 

He shrugs and stops to open a door. He pushes it inward and reaches around the frame to turn on the lights. He waits for you to enter first. You do with a gasp at the interior. 

The walls are hung with various weaponry and you can tell at a glance that it’s genuine. It’s like walking into a museum. You traipse forward as you stare and barely notice the door click shut. 

“Wow, how—Geralt, how the heck—what do you do? I mean, how can you afford all this?” 

“I make replicas for TV and stage productions,” he explains. “This is my personal collection.” 

“It’s... wow,” you hug yourself, feeling even smaller than before. 

He’s quiet again. That’s just how he’s always been. He never said more than he needed to. It made studying very easy. 

“You asked about Sienna. She is persistent but we are older now. I don’t see her as viable,” he says. Again, just a fact, nothing emotional. 

“Oh, uh, well, I heard otherwise. Maybe you should tell her that,” you chuckle nervously as you admire the executioner’s sword with its blunt tip. 

“Perhaps,” he agrees as he slowly crosses the room to stand next to you. “I’m... pleased that you showed up. It is a coincidence, isn’t it?” 

“Sure, must be,” you agree. 

You keep your eyes on the groove in the blade as you feel his on you. You sidle along and turn your head away from him. The door is shut. He stays close. 

“Here,” he steps around you, startling you. 

You spin as he goes to a large wooden chest on a table. “The smaller things are in here. Thumb screws, some daggers...” he flips open the lid as you turn and follow, keeping your distance. He holds up a curved blade, possibly a jambiya. “Hm, come,” he waves you around as he reaches in again, “you’ll like this one.” 

You sway before you move, hands clasped to each other. You slowly pace around to him and he moves so quickly you nearly stagger. In a moment, there’s a weight around your wrists. You cry out and raise your manacled arms. 

“Geralt!” You exclaim. 

He laughs. You don’t hear that often. You look at him and tug on the chain. 

“Centuries old but they are strong still, yes?” 

You frown, “please, it’s not funny. I don’t like it.” 

“Aren’t they wonderful?” 

“No, Geralt, please, take them off.” 

“Hm, I’d have to find the key...” 

“Don’t play,” you warn. 

His laughter trickles off and his face returns to its stoic mask. He stares at you. Silence rises and roils around you as the chain clinks in the loops of the cuffs and you fidget. You wait for him to pull out the key and undo them. 

Instead, he hooks a thick finger around the links and tugs until your arms are above you. He holds you like that, trapped and prone. You shudder as you stare up at him, terrified at the glint in his pale eyes. 

“I’m not playing,” he intones. “I’ve been waiting to get you in those. Far too long.” 

[five-rivers]

Ghost in a Bottle

This is my truce gift for @linziefey! I've made a picture and a little ficlet to go with it, beneath the cut. Hope you enjoy.

Danny sat on the roof of the Ops Center, trying to ignore the sounds of his parents yelling at each other down in the house.  The evening was clear on this Christmas Eve, and he was hoping to see some stars, despite the light pollution.  The increased light pollution.  Curse the ten million different Christmas displays.  And Christmas, just in general.  

There was the sound of an ecto-gun going off in the house, and something breaking.  Danny rolled his eyes, then rubbed them.  Christmas couldn’t be over soon enough.  He didn’t know how Jazz dealt with all of this.  

He looked up again.  The sky was a dusky color, and, if he remembered correctly…  There.  The first star.  

“Star bright, star light, first star I see tonight,” mumbled Danny, hoping that a touch of whimsy would do something to break through his general holiday malaise.  “Wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.”

He sighed again.  What did he wish?  Not that the fighting would stop.  That was impossible.  He knew better.  But what else…?  Oh, yeah.  There was another problem that haunted him every time he laid down in bed or finished a meal.  

“I wish Dani was somewhere safe,” he said.  

.

Desiree hadn’t come to Amity Park looking to make trouble.  Not this time.  At least, she hadn’t come to make trouble right now.  She’d just wanted to boost her powers with some Christmas wishes - all of them granted in the spirit of the wish, of course!  She didn’t want to wind up on the wrong side of the Truce.  

But this?  This was a little too good to pass up.  

She knew better than to say it out loud, but, well, she mouthed the words.  

As you have wished it, so shall it be!

.

Dani Phantom was minding her own business.  And, okay, maybe her own business involved a lot of pickpocketing, maybe some breaking and entering, just a little bit of shoplifting…  Okay, it was mostly shoplifting, but it wasn’t like stores were people, and this chain was owned by Vladco, so, really, it was like child support or whatever.  

Danny didn’t know how child support was supposed to work, so Dani didn’t either.  Most of her memories were effectively his, after all.  

The point was, she wasn’t bothering anyone and just going through her normal day when a portal just opened up underneath her.  

She fell in, of course.  

.

Dani fell.  Before she fell very far, she transformed, but by that point she had already fallen through the portal, which promptly vanished, just in time for Dani to run into the curved wall of glass that had been behind it.  She stopped and looked around.  

The room she was in… wasn’t a room.  It was a round glass bottle.  One held by–

“Desiree!” shouted Dani, raising her hands in preparation to fight and ignoring how the bottom of her foot was already dripping ectoplasm.  The genie-like ghost was floating beyond the glass, her hair loose and a red shawl draped across her shoulders.  The room beyond was dark and filled with pale green smoke.  “I wish I was out of here and kicking your butt!”

“Hello, dear,” said Desiree, “I am afraid I cannot hear you.  The glass, you see, and you are so, so small.”  She tapped the stopper that closed off the bottle.  

Dani scowled.  Her shins were starting to melt.  

“Now, I am sure you are wondering what wish landed you here.”  She smiled and circled.  “Your cousin.  So incautious, wishing for you to be somewhere safe, not thinking at all about what that would mean.  But rest assured, you will be quite safe in this little bottle, just as I was in mine.”

She tilted the bottle back and forth.  “Although, if you had a wish…”

Yeah, Dani had some wishes.  Mostly ones that involved giving Desiree a black eye or making her back off.  

“But, oh, if you are anything at all like that cousin of yours, how could I trust you not to attack me the moment I took out this cork?”

Dani’s rings flickered into being briefly around her waist, but she banished them.  Even if she was melting, she wanted the protection from ghost powers her ghost form provided.  She didn’t trust Desiree at all.  

“But it is truce time,” said Desiree, tilting her head, her red eyes glinting.  “The time when ghosts refrain from fighting or harming one another.”

“This is what you count as refraining from harm?” demanded Dani, incensed.  Despite wishing to kick Desiree’s butt earlier, she knew what the truce was - barely - thanks to Danny’s memories.  So, she knew what had happened to Ghostwriter when he’d broken it.  She just hadn’t realized the truce was now.  She hadn’t been keeping track of the date.  Things like that were sort of a luxury for people like her.  

Desiree swirled the bottle again.  “So, perhaps I will take the risk and let you try to wish yourself out of your… predicament.  In the spirit of the truce, I will even keep to the spirit of your wish.  Consider it a Christmas wish.”

There was a catch here.  Desiree talked like Vlad, and with Vlad, there was always a catch.  There was no way that Desiree would just let her wish herself free. 

More of Dani’s foot melted off.  That could be the catch.  

Probably not, though.  

“And while you are thinking, think of your cousin getting you into this mess, and all those people who are safe and warm and full at home…”  She tapped the glass wall of the bottle.  “Just think.”

Okay, there was the catch.  Desiree expected her to make trouble for Danny.  Well.  She wouldn’t.  So, there.  

But… now she was thinking about the things Desiree had said.  She was thinking about Danny, and how he’d been thinking about her, and had wanted her to be safe, and she was thinking about all the people who were home for the holidays… with their families.  

Then, Desiree popped the cork off the bottle and smiled broadly.  “What do you wish for?”

Dani bit her lip and put her hands on the bottle wall.  She wished– She wanted– “I wish my family was together - like a real family - for the holidays.”

Desiree threw back her head and laughed.  “As you have wished it, so shall it be.”

.

Dani woke up in a bed.  It took her a few minutes to realize why this was strange.  Once she did, she sat straight up, completely awake.  

This–  This was Vlad’s house.  She recognized the moulding and the furniture style and color scheme.  But…. other than that…  She looked all around the room.  There were posters on the walls, and they weren’t Packers themed.  They were mostly for bands, ones that Dani liked, when she’d been able to hear them, but there was one for that skateboarder she’d heard of, Tony Hawk, a couple for spacecraft, and a huge, detailed world map.  The desk had a computer and a bunch of video games, and there were little things scattered around the room.  Toys and gadgets, art projects and models.  A bookshelf was full of books whose titles were things like Deep Sea Exploration and Hidden Wonders of Eastern Europe.  

Feeling dazed, Dani climbed out of bed.  How had she gotten here?  Had Vlad kidnapped her and set this up to try and, what, buy her forgiveness?  That didn’t sound like him, except for the part where he would get to avoid saying sorry.  

Except, the last thing she remembered was Desiree…  And that wish…

Well, if Vlad tried anything funny, she’d– Do something.  Probably.  She ran an ectoblast over her fingers to test how stable she was.  That seemed to be… okay.

Time to investigate.  

She eased the door open and peered out into the hallway.  It was empty.  She stepped out.  

“Dani?  Why are you still in your PJs?”

She jumped.  She didn’t know how she’d missed him before, but Danny was standing there, wearing a vest and dress pants and tying on a bow tie.  

“Um,” said Dani.

“I know it’s kind of stupid,” said Danny, rolling his eyes.  “But Dad likes it when we’re all ‘put together’ for Christmas pictures, and we can do that for him, I guess.”

“Oh, um, right,” said Dani.  

She was going to beat the heck out of Desiree.  Spirit of the wish her butt.  At what point had she wanted some kind of alternate universe where Danny called Vlad Dad.  

“Are you okay?” asked Danny.

“No– I mean yes,” said Dani, quickly.  How could she ask what she wanted to know.  “Is there, um.  I’ve forgotten, um.”

“The Fentons are coming at two,” said Danny, patiently answering at least one of them.  “Dan’s coming by at three, since he wanted to go to Johnny’s truce party, everyone else is coming at five, for dinner.”

“Uh,” said Dani.  

“Or did you want to know if you’re the last one up?  Yeah.  I’m pretty sure the rest of our sextuplets beat us down.  At least, I heard Dusty thumping around.  Are you sure haven’t caught a cold or something?”

“I’m fine,” said Dani.  “I’m just going to go.  Get changed.”

She retreated back into the room and shut the door.  Then she sat down.  Sextuplets.  Six.  That’d be everyone, all the clones, including the ‘perfect’ one, plus Danny.  Who knew who Dan was, though…  She shook her head.  It didn’t matter.  None of this mattered.  She should be out looking for Desiree to get her to fix this.  

But… Would it really be so bad if Dani waited to find her until after Christmas?  It wasn’t like Danny liked Christmas with his family all that much.  

She chewed her lower lip then opened her closet.  Hopefully, there would be something in there better than skirts.  

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (7/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: You and Sylus exchange stories.

Content Warnings: Mention of past suicide attempt.

Length: 2k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (8) (9)

Read on AO3

In the morning you went about making breakfast and found Sylus waiting there for you. You felt a bit ridiculous thinking back to last night and how Sylus had to carry you back to the room like you were a child. He seemed to do that a lot, carry you around. Always made you feel light as a feather too. No grunting or huffing, he just swept you up like you were an empty sack of flour.

“Morning,” he said.

“Good morning.” you came in and started cooking some breakfast. “Sorry to make you carry me back to the room last night. I really tried staying up till you got back.”

“And why was it you were so insistent on waiting till I got back?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you.”

“I gathered as much.”

You rolled your eyes. “I just wanted to apologize for going through your stuff and figure out where we stood. I know I crossed a boundary and poked my nose into something very personal to you.”

“If we’re making apologies then I have to apologize too.” he said. “I scared you yesterday. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t--”

“I could smell it. There’s no use denying it.”

You squared your shoulders and turned to look at him. “I wasn’t scared of you. I was more frightened about having been caught. Surprised really. Not scared.”

“If you say so.”

“If I was really scared of you wouldn’t I be stinking up the place right now?” you divided up the food onto two plates and set one in front of him. “Although, I will admit it unsettled me seeing you angry like that.”

“It shouldn’t be a surprise that dragons have tempers.”

“But I’ve yet to see it before yesterday. You’re usually very level headed actually.”

“I never had reason to lose my temper before. I regret that you had to see that.”

You waved it off. “I think maybe we should think of it as getting to know more about each other. You promised that we’d do that today. Get to know one another.”

“I did say that.” he pushed the meat around on his plate. “Alright, ask whatever you wish.”

And just like that, it was as if the previous day had never happened. You fell back into easy conversation. The best conversation you had ever had with him in fact. Over the next several days you kept having great conversations.

You learned a lot about him in that time, much more in depth than what you had learned already. A lot of your questions had to revolve around dragons and their culture. It was fascinating to hear everything he knew and it gave you a better understanding about who you were living with. Some of the things he explained to you included him taking you into the hoard room and explaining why he was attracted to certain treasures and not others.

Apparently while dragons all had a taste for treasure, their hoards were actually rather diverse. Most liked gold but there were some dragons that dealt only in gems. There are sea dragons who sometimes only collect pearls for their hoards. Sylus was one of the dragons that was attracted to gold but primarily he was attracted to gold coins in particular. He couldn’t explain why but the shape and plentifulness of it attracted him. Hoards could get cluttered with many large objects that get caught up in the mix and buried, by coins are small and can scatter. There is something in all the sameness he had said. That didn’t mean he didn’t like gems or the occasional other treasures but coins were his favorite.

He told you about dragon traditions, celebrations, species hierarchies, family dynamics, and special rites. You had never thought of dragons having traditions or parties before but it was nice to hear.

You liked especially when he told you about how hoarding worked in adolescent dragons, hatchlings is what he called them.

“Hoarding is a kind of instinct for dragons.” Sylus explained. “When you’re a child you don’t have the means to plunder castles and whatnot stealing treasure but you still want to collect something. So they’ll run around and collect little things like pinecones, feathers, bottles, that kind of thing.”

“Did you collect anything when you were a child?” you asked.

“Nuts.”

“Nuts?”

“Acorns. Walnuts. Chestnuts. Whatever I could get my hands on.”

You snorted. “Are you a dragon or a squirrel?”

“Har har, yes, I didn’t get enough of those comments when I was little.” his tail poked you in the side. “If you were a dragon as a kid what do you think you would have collected?”

“Me? Buttons.”

“Buttons?”

“Why not?”

“Certainly a new one. But it fits for you.”

In turn you told him about your own life. You told him about your childhood growing up with just your father in the village and how you had worked in his glass shop with him. You had pulled out the pendant your father had made for you before you left and showed it to him to see the kind of wonderful work he was capable of.

“It’s beautiful.” he held the charm up to the light. “What sort of flower is this?”

“It’s a moonflower, specifically a blood moonflower. They’re a rare breed of moonflower that grows in shades of red. Strangely enough they’re also the only ones that aren’t toxic.” you took the charm back, holding it close to your chest. “My favorite story growing up was actually about the myth of the blood moon flower.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know that one.”

“Want me to tell you?”

“Sure. Tell me a story.”

“There once was a little girl that lived in a small village. One day the village was attacked by foreign invaders and everything and everyone was lost, except for her. During the chaos of the attack she had ran as fast as her feet could carry her and went up into the mountains seeking protection.”

“Wait, this sounds familiar. A girl whose village is under attack so she flees to the mountains searching for help. Where have I heard this before?” Sylus tapped his chin.

You rolled your eyes. “May I continue?”

“Go ahead.”

“Anyway, the girl makes it to the mountain and starts to climb it. She climbs and climbs and climbs till her shoes have worn through and she has made it to the top. There she finds a huge empty nest with a patch of brilliant white moonflowers growing all around it. Inside the nest were dozens of huge feathers. The girl, being cold, decided to rest there and use the feathers as a blanket.

“The next morning she awoke to find the giant bird whose nest she was resting in had returned. She feared that this would be her end but the bird saw the blanket of feathers surrounding the girl and mistook her for a baby bird.

“For years the girl lived with the bird, eating the food the giant mama bird had brought and resting warmly under her feathered body during the long windy nights. All was well until one evening under the light of the full moon the mama bird had decided that it was time for the girl to leave the nest. The girl naturally did not know what to do since she was not an actual bird. She was liable to fall and die if she leapt from the nest.

“But the mama bird kept on pushing and pushing, edging the girl out of the nest. Without any other options the girl took the feathers of her blanket in hand and held them tight. The sharp ends of the quills dug into her palms and blood seeped from her hands. The blood that fell from her hands landed on the white moonflowers around the nest and when they did it created magic. The girl stared out at the starry sky and wished with all her might, and she jumped. The moment she leapt her wish came true and the girl was turned into a bird and she flew off into the world.”

You looked back at Sylus, “And that’s why blood moonflowers are red.”

“That is a fascinating story. I do not think such magic is actually possible but it makes a nice tale.”

“Whether it was actually possible or not wasn’t what I liked about it. I don’t know why but I found it comforting. It made me believe that even in a world where I’m backed into a corner there’s another way out, another way to do things. I don’t have to plummet, I might fly.”

“It’s a lovely message my little bird. I’m afraid the tales dragons tell do not have such heartfelt meanings.”

“What kind of stories do dragons tell?”

“You want to hear one?”

“Yes.” you scooted closer. “Please?”

“Fine. Fine.” Sylus sighed. “I have a story for you.”

You smiled at him expectantly. Sylus cleared his throat and stared off into the distance. “This story does not begin with a dragon. It actually starts with a human.” he said.

“A long time ago there was a human woman who had longed for a child. She went to every healer she could find but no matter what they tried, she remained barren. So, one day, she decided to seek out magic. Not just any magic, dragon magic. Said to be the most powerful of all.

“The woman had come into their land hoping to steal some of their magic for herself so she could have her child. The dragons asked her what she was doing in their land and when she told them she came to humbly ask for their assistance, they saw through her deceit. She had not just wanted a child, she wanted a strong one. She longed to give birth to a warrior that would bring fame and glory to her family’s name. That is why she truly came to the dragons.

“The dragons decided to punish the woman with exactly what she wanted. The elder of the dragon tribe plucked a scale from their body and gave it to the woman. They told her to eat the scale and that the magic within would make her fertile. And so the woman ate the scale and returned home. Soon after she became pregnant.

“Because she had eaten the scale though her pregnancy was no normal human birth. Instead of birthing a human child she had birthed a giant egg. She realized then that she had been cursed by the dragons and tried to destroy it, but the egg was too strong. Not with a hundred hammers could it be broken. So she abandoned the egg in the forest.

“The egg was found by some passing dragons and taken back to their land. When it hatched though, what emerged was neither human nor dragon, but some monstrosity stuck in a crossroads between the two.” Sylus’s face twisted, loathing you had not seen before etched into the crease of his brow.

You wanted to reach out to him but you were scared he’d stop if you tried to comfort him.

“The dragons could not abandon this thing because it was of their kin, but they did not embrace it either.” Sylus said, his hands balling into fists, “The hatchling grew, neither a part of either world. So they decided to cut off their horns and their tail and go to live with the humans.

“For a while life with the humans was good, until his horns and tail started to grow back. He was driven out again. From town to town he went, cutting off his horns and tail over and over. When scales started to grow along his arms he scraped them off too. What no one knew was that every time he cut off his horns and tail the appendages were sinking into the earth, causing the land to fallow. Soon word had spread of a silver haired boy that would bring famine to your land if allowed to remain. Village after village he was driven out.”

Sylus had gone quiet again. The rage had swelled but smoldered into ashes before it could erupt. When he spoke again, he sounded weak and tired. “One day,” he muttered, “He came to a great cliff. Feeling he had nowhere in this world, he jumped. He fell and he fell…then, a pain exploded from his back. A pair of large webbed wings caught the air and he soared across the sky. Why it happened then he could not say but he thought perhaps it meant something. Perhaps there was a land yet that would accept him.”

For a long time neither of you said anything. Sylus was stone faced but the way his tail twitched from side to side let you know how he was really feeling. “This is a story that dragons tell their children?” you asked, quietly.

“It is.”

“Is it true?”

“What do you think?”

You lapsed back into silence. You looked him up and down, your eyes lingering on his horns. You brushed a hand through his hair. “Did it hurt?”

“What?” he looked at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Your horns. Maybe that’s why they’re so sensitive.”

He looked back out into the distance. “Maybe.”

You could not imagine what his childhood was like if that was what he had lived through. It was the most he had ever confided in you. You wanted to say something. Encourage him. Assure him. Tell him in no uncertain terms that he was not a monstrosity. You wanted to let him know that it broke your heart to hear what he had tried to do. You could not imagine being in so much pain and being so alone for so many years.

Words would not come. So instead, you pulled yourself into his lap and hugged him tight. His arms closed around you, holding you close to him. His tail even had curled around you, pushing you as close to him as you could get.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that but it did not feel at all long enough. One hug could not put all his broken pieces together. But maybe the fact that you embraced him at all let him know that he was not alone in this world. Not anymore.

[irndad]

Christmas Wrapping- a.h.

a/n: i'm back and this is sad (no, really, it's a sad christmas fic. merry crisis!! also writing this made me think of @hotchfiles lol- lari i hope u like it <3 summary: 2 years ago, hotch broke up with a lovely but eccentric woman, and is thinking about this while attending a christmas party.

It’s Christmas, and it’s New York, and Aaron doesn’t want to be here. 

He always feels guilty when he misses Christmases with Jack, and it’s painful to admit that it’s happened more than once. He’d been understanding, but Jack is almost ten now, and the resentment in his voice is subtle, but sometimes Aaron could swear he could hear Haley’s voice in it. 

This dinner wasn’t optional- a director that was above him mentioned that if he wanted his career to advance, he couldn’t afford not to attend events like tonight. Which as far as thiny veiled threats go, is one of the lease concealed ones he’s received in a good bit. 

New York always makes him think of her. Even though their relationship ended two years prior, she sticks in his mind like a song, the melody never quite getting to be grating. She’d loved being called his girlfriend, and Aaron had loved the way she loved it. She was younger than him, by a little over a half-decade. But still, she’d worn it better than he had. He still remembers the sight of her, meeting him at his office (never inside, lest the team tease him endlessly), in her green shoes and multicolored scarf, hair in a clip that had been lazily thrown up, and a smile that dazzled him. 

“Are you ready, Mr. Hotchner?” he remembers her saying, on the other side of a memory lit in warm, glowy lights. 

“I don’t think I can endorse whatever you have planned for me.” He’d replied back in jest at the time. 

The walk from his hotel to the host of the party’s home is cold. He think it might be colder in Quantico, but his memory feels colder and seeps into his bones. 

He might’ve married her, Aaron muses to himself. It all feels so silly to think about. But she was hard not to think about when she was his to ponder over, and she sticks in the back of his mind even after he had made he decision not to. 

She’d been generous with him, the entirety of it all. Gentle with him when he mentioned that he wasn’t ready to tell the team, even if she’d known that he hadn’t waited eight months with Beth. More than that, she was beautiful. not just in her appearance, which was lovely in and of itself, but in how she carried herself. Warm, and kind- Jack would’ve loved her. 

He thinks of her laugh, how she’d picked off all of the salmon roe on their fancy 5 month anniversary dinner, and eaten the meal without it- how she booked Amtraks to visit family, because it gave her more time to read on the way, and no one would make her drive once she got there. How she traced hearts into his wrist when  she could tell he was anxious, read him like a book he never gave anyone permission to see. Loving her was a pleasure, an indulgment. An expensive wine sipped with leisure. 

A honk of a cab shakes him out of his memories, but it doesn’t stick. She’d loved Brooklyn, loud cabs and overpriced brownstones all the same. Sometimes, when doing monotonous paperwork, he’d fantasize about buying her one, a new home in her dream city, Jack and maybe a sister. 

The way it had fallen apart was one of the least proud moments of his life. Because she was different- not polished, or withdrawn in how she carried herself. It was what made her a pleasure to know- she smiled with her whole face, hugged people like she knew they might need it, wore her favorite colors because she wanted to see them whenever she passed a mirror. And he was a behavior analyst. 

“Could I meet your friends?” he’d frozen, when he’d heard it. Her voice was soft, like she was nervous. “I know you were wanting to wait, but you know- you’ve met my graduate school friends. They were thoroughly impressed.”

He didn’t feel impressive to them, and he suspects she might be being kind in this moment. 

“I just think you wouldn’t like them, honey.” He feels rotten lying to her, but the idea of it- of the team knowing that she is the person he loves- it feels like a magnifying glass under the sun. 

“I find that hard to believe, Aaron. And either way, I’m telling you, it would mean the world to me to know them.” 

He’d been backed into a corner, he’ll tell himself, later. This will be a lie, and it’ll be a lie he knows, even as he tells himself it. 

“I just think we shouldn’t do that until we’re sure about eachother.”

The silence that had followed felt chasms wide. She’d been silent in front of him before- when he’d come to her apartment too tired to speak but still needing to be held, and she’d lit a candle and massaged his hands, easing the carpal tunnel from writing paperwork. Or when she held his hand waiting for Jack’s results, when he’d gotten a fever they hadn’t been able to shake. This silence was different. Long and dissapointed, and Aaron felt like he couldn’t breathe under the shame of it. He watched her wipe a single tear from her eye, and grab her novel that had been sitting on his coffee table for the last six months. 

“I can’t make you sure about me, Aaron. I don’t really want to try.” 

It had ended like that. Reminiscing on the whole affair had made the walk feel short, although he could feel a tear welling in his eyes. His body knew her absence, and still does. Even now, walking to this party he doesn’t want to go to, he imagines what it would be like to have the shape of her pressed into the side of it. 

Aaron thinks to himself, before buzzing into the building, that he wasn’t ashamed of her. He’d wondered since the end of the first relationship he’d felt held in, if he left it because he was ashamed. But he wasn’t. He was unwilling to submit to the plain, unmediated joy of her touch. 

He was almost done ruminating on this, until he knocked on the door, and there she was. 

Aaron- he almost wonders if he’s hallucinating, because there she is. And she’s fucking gorgeous. She always is, but she’s so lovely tonight. Maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t seen her in so long, or maybe it’s just that she is that lovely, but the warm light of the party and Christmas Wrapping playing in the background- she looks like vision plucked from a movie. 

She’d kissed him at midnight to this song, once. 

Now, she’s beaming at him, opening her door to welcome him as a stranger into a party. 

“Aaron! Is that you?” it’s a physiological response, the jump in his chest, when she says his name. “My god, it’s so good to see your face!” 

She hugs him, and she still wears the same perfume. Her arms are warm and her face is in his chest, and even though it’s less intimate than all the ways she’s held him before, it feels kind. 

“It’s so good to see you too- what are you doing here?”

It’s a blunt question, but she doesn’t seem to mind, as she ushers him into home. It’s a family apartment, old-school and clearly well-loved.

“My husband liasons with the FBI, actually! His boss said they needed a get-together space, and so we offered up our apartment. It’s cute, right?” she’d walked him right up to a man, wrapped her arms around his middle, before turning back to Hotch. “Peter, honey, this is my old friend, Aaron Hotchner! He works for the BAU.”

Husband. She has a husband. She is a beautiful woman, who he has had the honor to love, to run through the rain while laughing with, who is known and seen and loved by someone else. Hotch takes a look at her, really drinks in the sight. She’s got on a green sweater, new- he can tell by the shape of it. Earrings that seem like they’re gifts, and her hair’s pinned up lazily despite the occasion. 

She looks happy. 

“Oh hey! I’ve heard so much about you- I’m glad you were able to come!”

Peter has a wedding band on hsi left wrist, and Aaron can’t help but analyze him. He’s wearing an ill-fitting dress shirt and slacks, and Hotch thinks he might not have had too much choice in hosting. Owning real-estate is uncommon in New york, and your boss knowing you have a place to use might have been enough to strong arm him into using it. it’s a relative’s clothes, and it’s casual in a way that would suggest ease and friendless. An arm rests on the small of his wife’s waist. 

The whole rest of the night is a blur. Jealousy doesn’t feel like the right word for it- it feels uncanny, to see her so open and warm with a man who so unashamadly loves her. There’s engagement photos on the walls, and Aaron studies them like he’ll be tested. Maybe he’s testing himself. They’re not real photos, just a photobooth they’d gone too, her ring in the foreground of all of them. Peter is a wiry, thin, dark-haired brown-eyed man who is younger than Aaron, and a year older than her. 

He hears someone say they met in high school, and Hotch dimly wonders if he ever had a shot with her. He thinks this, while looking at a photo of the two of them at prom together (but not together). It’s self-comfort, he knows. Because she’d asked him, to take her seriously. 

She’s drinking grape juice, instead of champagne. Aaron thinks he knows why, from the way she runs a gentle hand over her stomach when she thinks no one’s looking, and how Peter’s eyes are always trained on her midsection.

He wishes he didn’t know how to be this observant. 

When the night ends, and Aaron comes back to Quantico, and people asks him how the party went, Aaron tells them it went well, and says that he saw an old friend who he’d missed a great deal out there. 

He figured it’s probably better to admit to loving her in some way, at some point. Even if it’s far, far too late. 

[rebelspykatie]

The Gift That Keeps on Giving - Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Steve’s had enough of the teasing and drags Eddie into the dressing room by his wrist for some privacy, locking Robin and Hopper outside. Laughter reaches his ears but he doesn’t care. Hopper raps his knuckles on the door again and yells ten minutes. It sounds like they shuffle away from the door until all Steve can hear is the low thrum of the baseline again and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

As soon as the door closes, he crowds Eddie against it. Even though he hasn’t been on stage yet, Eddie’s glistening with a sheen of sweat that Steve wants to lick off his neck. He angles their bodies together, one hand on the door beside Eddie’s head, the other lightly resting on his hip. 

“Is this okay?” 

“There’s probably some mistletoe lying around here somewhere if you need an excuse.” 

That’s all the permission Steve needs. The distance closes between them and he’s not sure who moves first, but something hot coils in his gut when their lips meet. The culmination of all his feelings over the past few weeks flooding out into all the places they touch. Somehow, it feels different with Eddie already. That first touch feels like a lifetime of longing coming to fruition, despite only knowing each other a few weeks. Such a short amount of time to fall for someone, but he has. 

Electricity zaps from where his fingertips graze that pale skin of Eddie’s abdomen all the way down to his toes. It feels a bit like floating. One swipe of Eddie’s mouth against his and he could take flight. But it’s also anchoring him in place. Eddie is frenetic against him, but it’s like the world around them has stopped, giving them space to work this out before continuing to let the minutes tick by. 

Hands slip around Steve’s body, one fisting into the back of his sweater and the other gliding smoothly over the nape of his neck, toying with the ends of his hair. Steve melts into him, getting impossibly closer and still not close enough. It’s delicious and everything Steve dreamed of, but they don’t have enough time to get into anything more than a few heated kisses. That insistent warning from Hopper still ringing in Steve’s ears. Ten minutes. 

When he pulls away, Eddie’s lips chase him with a soft whine. 

“No, wait- come back,” he paws at Steve’s sweater trying to drag him back in. 

Steve puts his hand over Eddie’s face and pushes back. “You have a show to do.” 

“Who cares about a show?” His smirk turns downright lascivious. “I could get a show right here.”

“There will be plenty of time after the show for more of…whatever this is, right?” He’s hesitant, despite all signs pointing to Eddie being in all the way on this, too. 

“I’ll make time for whatever you want.” 

“I’m being serious, Eddie. You’re a rockstar, and I’m just some guy.”

Eddie jostles him a bit, grabbing onto his shoulders and shaking gently. “You’re way more than just some guy to me, Steve. It’s like I’ve had my own personalized present delivered to me in a dorky Christmas sweater by Santa Claus himself.”

“Hey! My sweater isn’t-”

“It is, and it’s adorable.” He accentuates this point with a kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose. “And we have all the time in the world to figure it all out. We don’t have to have all the answers right now, five minutes before I go on stage. But this is the last show of the year, kind of a hometown thing. So, I’m all yours after tonight.” 

“You live in Indy?”

“When we’re not recording or touring, yeah. I told you about my uncle.” Steve nods, remembering that late night conversation about the uncle that adopted him. “He’s my home. Lives about an hour outside of Indy. It’s a good place to hide.” 

“So you’ll be close?” Steve lets himself lean into Eddie again, whose arms wrap around him and hold him tightly against his chest. 

“For as long as you’ll let me be.” 

“Merry Christmas to me, then.” And he kisses Eddie again. Soft and sweet. Perhaps it’s Steve’s turn to get the gift he deserves.

END

Now on AO3

Thanks for reading my loves, merry christmas!

[ghostgirl-22]

feminization art this… feminization art that… feminization with patrick. i need him in pink lingerie IMMEDIATELY i need to see his full balls being hardly contained by the cutesy lacy pink panties!!!! i NEED ITITITIT and how would art react.

Hi anon! So I wrote this then saw you said pink. Sorry he’s in white lace. I hope that’s okay <3 also if you’re curious I added the reference here.

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Feminization kink

—-

Art grew up with only sisters, spent summers with his Grandma who also happens to be his favorite person. Oddly enough outside of Patrick, he’s always more naturally gravitated towards women. He felt pretty comfortable when chatting with women and they generally felt comfortable around him. Though it often meant that he saw too much or heard too much, and occasionally girls he met would think he was the “gay” friend and they’d undress in front of him or walk around in just a bra and underwear.

Sometimes even after he’d clarify many times that he was very much into women, some of his friends would do it anyway. It could get a bit confusing if he’s honest.

Patrick would tease him with that reductive take, “men and women can’t be friends.” And Art would disagree and then two weeks later one of his “friends” would tell him she was crushing on him. And as sensitive as Art could be, he’s still a red blooded male and he’d end up proving Patrick right.

He’s sitting in the dorm with one of his close friends Kelsey and a few other girls. One who happens to be Patrick’s ex girlfriend Ashley who Art doesnt know that well outside of the fact that she’s not that great of a tennis player. For whatever reason they’re talking about the silliest thing you’ve ever done for a boy. Ashley brings up the time she made her boyfriend try on lingerie at Victoria’s Secret.

Kelsey’s giggling. “You can’t mean Patrick Zweig.”

“Oh I definitely mean Patrick Zweig. And when I tell you it was so hot. Like his cock barely fit in those lacy white panties and he was just so…hard…” she giggles. “I think he liked it. Like a lot. We ended up fucking in the changing room.”

“Oh my god!” Kelsey says and she glances at Art, mouthing sorry. As she often did when girl talk got to be a little too much. Art forces himself to smile hoping he looks nonchalant but his palms are suddenly sweaty and his heart rate has picked up for some reason.

“I couldn’t help myself.” Ashley continues. “I had to fucking buy it all. It was so embarrassing. I just pulled off the tags and brought them to the register so they could ring everything up but it was so obvious to the sales lady what we did.” She says, grinning. “He didn’t care of course. I spent like two hundred bucks gave the whole set to him for his birthday and then he fucking cheated on me with Cali.”

A few minutes later Kelsey points out that Patrick is his roommate and best friend and Ashley giggles awkwardly and starts fidgeting with her curls. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that about your roommate.”

Art mumbles that it’s no big deal and that he knows Patrick can be an asshole so he doesn’t take offense.

But hours later he can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like his mind is stuck. He can’t move on from that story. Patrick tells him just about everything but he’s never told him that. Art is certain he would have remembered lacy white panties.

He’s not sure what’s happening to him but when he gets back to his room he’s relieved to see it’s empty. It’s twelve in the afternoon and he’s touching himself. His head all wrapped up in that story. He tells himself it’s not about Patrick. And so what if his slightly addled brain is imagining Patrick’s tall, lanky form in barely there lace panties. His too big cock just overwhelming the fabric, jet black pubic hair everywhere. Imagines him fucking into Ashley’s pussy while she calls him a good girl. It’s not about Patrick, it’s the lingerie. Art moans as he spills all over his mattress. He collapses on the bed and sighs, “Such a good girl.”

He hears laughter and he freezes immediately, heat flooding his skin. Patrick must’ve snuck in sometime before he finished. Art hadn’t heard the door but to be fair he wasn’t gonna hear much of anything once he’d reached that state. He sits up in bed, most likely red as a tomato as he pulls his shorts up over his thighs.

”Who’s the good girl?” Patrick snorts, dropping his book bag by the door and settling across from Art on his own bed. “And I’ll take a wild guess, you were hanging out in Kelsey’s room. I told you man. Boys and girls can’t be friends.”

“It’s not— it’s nothing, um— how was tutoring?”

”Oh come on, don’t do that. Tell me.” Patrick says grinning.

Art can barely look at him. His imagination had just been so vivid. He’s so fucking grateful Patrick can’t read minds but of course it’s not gonna stop him from trying.

“Wow look at you, she must be really hot. Come on, sunshine… spill.” Patrick demands. When Art doesn’t offer anything Patrick starts guessing names. Following him around the room while he cleans up after his… activities. Art lets him talk himself silly until he gets distracted by something else. He is determined to never, ever, mention it to Patrick ever. But his brain doesn’t let go of the image. In fact, night after night the fantasy just expands.

Patrick on his knees. Lacy white bra on now and he’s playing with his nipples. And now instead of Ashley it’s Art with him at Victorias Secret. And he’s rubbing Patrick through the panties with his socked foot and calling him good girl. “Good girl. Pretty girl. You were so nice all day. I’m gonna fuck you in the dressing room. Don’t take the panties off.”

Art wakes up all sticky nearly every night and has to sneak out of bed to change his boxers. No excuse now for how or why he’s taken Ashley’s place. No excuse for why he’s horny all the time, touching himself every minute he has alone. Touching himself till he’s dizzy. He’s driving himself crazy. It’s not Patrick, it’s probably his brain being weird because they spend so much time together. He’s not gay. He definitely likes women. He just really, really needs to see what this lingerie looks like. Maybe that will calm him down.

He waits for Patrick to leave for practice, making an excuse about his shoulder even though he’s been fine for over a month since he pulled that muscle. And when he’s sure Patrick’s gone he goes digging through his things. He’s so disorganized compared to Art, he doesn’t have an assigned drawer for anything so it takes some time. He doesn’t even find it in the drawer actually. He ends up looking in his closet and there’s a little pink bag tucked in the top in the corner. He’d almost given up. Art pulls it down and something lacy and white falls out.

Art kinda regrets his decision. It’s this little baby doll lace slip and tight little see through panties. Art is even more obsessed now. The image in his head screaming loud and clear. Patrick’s big thighs in this. He can’t help himself. He crawls on the bed and starts touching himself. “Such a pretty girl. Such a good girl. Want me to play with you. Make you feel so good.” He’s whining. His head all wrapped up in fantasy. Imagining the soft sound of Patrick’s voice, (Mm yeah, yes. You can do whatever you want, sunshine).

He hears the door this time. It’s entirely too late to hide the evidence but he’s still trying. Patrick’s got his tennis bag and he’s all flushed from practice. “Um…” he says stopping in his tracks as he reaches the bed and notices the lingerie.

Art doesn’t think he can possibly be anymore embarrassed and then Patrick starts grinning. “Oh fuck. Did Ashley tell you?”

Art nods because his voice isn’t really working.

“Fuck,” Patrick looks over Art and Art secures the blanket over himself trying to hide it. “You can try it on if you want, I washed em,” Patrick says, lightly.

Art bites his lip and then clears his throat. “I was thinking maybe you… you could?” In his fantasies he always sounds more assertive.

Patrick looks at him amused. “Oh Donaldson, am I the good girl?”

Art feels himself flushing so much he ponders going into the bathroom and hiding in there until they finish their senior year and he can disappear to Stanford and never see or hear from Patrick again.

“Fuck… okay…” Patrick says, chuckling all soft as he gazes at Art. “I can be your good girl.” He picks up the lingerie.

Art almost starts touching himself again, right then and there for the way Patrick says it.

“You want to watch me put it on? Or you want me to just come out ready for you?” Patrick asks, like this is just the most normal thing in the world.

Art clears his throat again. “R-ready?”

Patrick grins. “Okay stay there. Don’t touch.”

It’s a good thing he said that because it’s all Art wants to fucking do. He ponders lying on his side and just humping the mattress as a workaround. He hears the shower run but Patrick doesn’t take too long. Doesn’t take long at all. Whatever Art imagined, whatever his brain managed to conjure up the real thing is just… infinitely better.

“Fuck, I forgot how horny this shit made me,” Patrick sighs. He’s so tall, his legs long, unshaven. Knees, knobby and pink from being out in the cool air and then the hot shower. The top is lacy, thin straps, a smattering of freckles on the backs of his arms. The sheer fabric opens in the front over his flat abdomen. He’s got a four pack at the moment. A few freckles dot his stomach and theres a dark treasure trail leading down.

Patrick’s dick is… It’s absurd the way Patrick’s not being held in by the panties at all. Big heavy balls slipping from the bottom, cock shaft and head pressing out of the waistband, precum leaking out of him already. Art can’t help himself… he’s rubbing himself right away.

Hes not sure what he’s doing when he starts licking Patrick through the lace of the panties. “Just wanna taste your pussy.” He whispers, his voice foreign to his ears.

“Fuck, yeah taste it sweetie. It’s all yours.” Patrick breathes.

Art’s licking stripe after stripe along the sheer fabric and then he can’t wait any longer. He’s easing it out and taking as much as he can into his mouth.

“Mm fuck…” Patrick breathes sharply. “You like the taste, don’t you? Fucking delicious pussy.”

“Mmhm,” Art says, he’s helpless. Smelling him, licking him, tasting him. He’s losing his mind. His cock is throbbing mercilessly between his legs as he keeps going and going. Patricks just standing there so solid in front of him. So fucking full. So much. Too much. He’s taking it as Patrick slowly starts to thrust his hips. Deliciously desperate moans escaping his lips.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Patrick gasps. “I’ll be the best fucking girl for you.”

”Mm,” Art groans.

“I’ll ride you if you want. Squirt all over you. Get you wet… So wet.”

Art’s got his hand working between his thighs, he’s gonna fucking cum.

“Fuck baby… I’m gonna fill your mouth with so much, and you can fucking kiss me when I’m done and tell me I’m your good…nnngh—-”

Art can feel the heated liquid in his mouth everywhere all at once. Feels it, coating his tongue and the roof of his mouth, sliding down his throat with his spit.

He doesn’t want to but he pulls it out, wet and obscene like he’s just been sucking on a lollipop. All of the excess dripping from his mouth onto the floor while he finishes jerking himself off.

He collapses onto his back on the bed, chest heaving and breathless when he’s done. “Fuck,” he gasps.

Patrick chuckles softly and crawls on top of him. “Good?” He asks.

Art pulls at the sheer fabric and Patrick comes closer so Art can kiss him. “You were right.” Art says softly against his lips.

“Mm was I?”

“Mmhm,” Art says, grinning. “Men and women can’t be friends, sweetheart.”

Patrick smiles back, “Fucking insane.”