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permanentswaps · 11 days

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SwapFindr (Finale)

It’s Thursday, and the deadline for swapping back is tomorrow at midnight. We have to make it back into our original bodies before then, or we’ll be stuck like this forever. Not that Andrew seems to care. He’s still dodging my messages and posting thirst traps on Instagram – what else is new.

Finally, as the workday winds down, my phone buzzes with a new message from Andrew. The relief of seeing his name, however, quickly fades as I read his text.

A: Hey man, Jack invited me to go to the cabin again this weekend. It’s for a big gathering of his friends, and I really want to go. I asked Jack if I could bring a friend, and he’s cool with it. So, uh, you’re invited too.

My frustration boils over. I type out my response with a mix of urgency and exasperation.

L: No, Andrew. We have to swap back tomorrow otherwise we’re stuck like this. Its not up for discussion.

A: Oh, I already thought of that. I called the company and they said its easy to get an extension until Tuesday. We can still swap back when we get back to the city on Sunday night, but this gives us an extra buffer.

L: And why would I want to do that?

His reply is quick, with a hint of smugness.

A: Well, this extension gives you a chance to observe me and Jack. You can see how their relationship dynamics play out, which might make it easier for you to transition if you decide to stay with me. It’s a win-win.

L: I don’t think it’s a good idea.

Before I can say anything else, my inbox dings with a new message. It’s from SwapFindr, and it looks official.

Subject: Extension Confirmation for Body Swap Agreement

I open the email, and it confirms what Andrew said.

L: Fine, but we have to swap back on Sunday night. No more delays.

---

The next day, I arrive at the cabin, my mind racing with mixed feelings about the extension. As soon as I step out of the car, I spot Andrew outside, waiting for me. My breath catches in my throat when I take in his outfit—a sleek, all-black ensemble that clings to his body in a way that makes it look even more striking. Where did he even get that from?

This is the first time I’ve seen my body in person since the swap, and I’m struck by how good it looks. Is this really how I appeared to other people? I can’t believe I was so self-conscious before. The sight of my own body, looking so damn hot, makes me feel a bit flustered. I mean, I knew I was in shape, but seeing it like this—damn, I’m actually feeling pretty confident.

I approach Andrew, trying to shake off the sudden surge of self-awareness.

L: Hey, Andrew. Is SwapFindr really okay with the extension? We could just swap back now if we wanted to.

Andrew turns to me with a relaxed smile, his confidence radiating.

A: You worry too much, man. It’ll be fine. We’ve got the extension, so we’re good until Tuesday. There’s no rush.

I’m still unsure, the lingering worry about the extension weighing on me. Andrew’s calm demeanor is meant to reassure, but it only adds to my anxiety.

L: But are you sure? What if something goes wrong?

Andrew chuckles, dismissing my concerns with a wave of his hand. He leads me inside the cabin, and I immediately feel out of place. The room is filled with Jack's friends, all of whom look like they spend their weekends at luxury gyms and have elaborate skincare routines. Meanwhile I’m in this chunky body wearing Andrew’s cheap Costco clothes.

Andrew moves confidently through the group, clearly at ease among them. He introduces me with a casual, almost nonchalant air.

A: Hey everyone, this is Andrew. He’s a friend from back home. Just thought I’d bring him along for the weekend.

Jack greets me with a warm, easy smile. He’s even more impressive in person than in the photos I’d seen. His physique is every bit as muscular and well-defined as advertised, and he exudes a charismatic charm that makes him even more attractive up close.

J: Nice to meet you, Andrew. Welcome to the cabin. Make yourself at home.

I find myself drawn in by Jack’s presence, his easy demeanor and striking looks making it hard to look away. I can see why Andrew was so taken with him—he is undeniably dreamy.

As I mingle awkwardly among the group, I catch snippets of their conversations, which only reinforces my sense of being out of place.

---

Later in the evening, the group decided to head out for some late-night skiing. Andrew and I, feeling more inclined to relax, choose to stay behind. The cabin begins to empty out, leaving a quieter, more intimate atmosphere.

I take the opportunity to confide in Andrew, who’s lounging on one of the plush sofas.

L: You know, Jack is seriously hot. When we swap back, you have to help me make sure I don’t lose him. I want to know what you did to pull him in.

Andrew chuckles, clearly pleased by the compliment.

A: Sure thing. I’ll help you out. You’re going to have to make a good impression when you get back to your own body, though.

I nod, but as the conversation shifts, my attention is drawn back to the sight of Andrew in my body. I can't help but admire the way he’s filled out the clothes—every inch of him looks good. I start to feel up his biceps, teasing him a bit.

L: I mean even if I don't, how could Jack resist this body?

I run my hands over Andrew’s abs, feeling the toned muscles beneath his shirt.

L: … resist these abs... Fuck, I’m hot.

Without really thinking about it, I lean in and kiss him. It’s a spontaneous, passionate moment. I hadn’t so much as jerked off since I’d been with Eve, so I guess I was overdue. All that pent-up desire and self-admiration from the past few weeks finally came to a head.

But Andrew pushes me back, his eyes wide with concern.

A: Dude, do you realize what you’re doing? What if Jack sees us?

I shrug, a bit defiant.

L: He won’t. And honestly, you owe me. The swap wasn’t nearly as good for me as it was for you. I deserve to have some fun in all of this. Plus this is my body I want to play with it.

Andrew looks at me, his expression a mix of concern and amusement.

A: Fine, I get it. But just keep it in check. We don’t want to stir up any trouble.

We head to the bedroom where I’d be staying.

He starts to undress slowly, his movements somewhat hesitant. I can see the unease in his eyes, but my impatience and desire push me forward. I’m keen to experience everything I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.

Once he’s lying on the bed, I position myself and begin to pleasure him. Andrew leans back, his eyes closing as a smirk plays on his lips. I can tell he’s trying to maintain a certain level of detachment, but the physical response and his visible enjoyment betray him.

I move up slowly, making sure to savor every touch and reaction. I gently trace one of Andrew’s nipples with my fingertips, the light touch eliciting a shiver from him. As I continue to explore, I slide two fingers, slick with saliva, into his hole.

He squirms beneath me, a mix of pleasure and surprise crossing his face. I can feel his body responding to my touch, every movement and reaction familiar and gratifying. I know just how to hit all the right spots to drive him wild, and it’s clear that he’s aware of that too.

His breathing becomes uneven, and he lets out a series of soft moans, his body arching in response to the stimulation.

I continued to move, thrusting steadily while my hands roamed to his nipples. I teased them gently, tracing circles around them as I taunted him.

L: Not even Jack knows how to turn you on like I do.

Andrew’s breathing quickened, and he squirmed beneath me, clearly overwhelmed by the dual stimulation. I kept up the rhythm, the combination of thrusting and gentle nipple play sending him closer and closer to the edge.

As I key my pace, I could feel him reaching the peak of his pleasure. His body tensed, and his moans became more urgent, until he finally climaxed. He sprayed a fountain of cum across his abs, his hole contracting and puckering around me. The sight and sensation were overwhelming, pushing me over the edge. I released my own warm load into him, the intense pleasure of our mutual climax leaving me breathless.

Afterward, I collapse beside him on the bed, my body still tingling from the aftershocks. I look over at Andrew, now covered in a glistening sheen of his own cum, with my cum seeping out of his ass. He looks like a modern Adonis, his body illuminated by the soft light, perfectly sculpted and undeniably appealing.

He turns his head towards me with a satisfied smirk.

A: See? I told you swapping could be fun.

I couldn’t help but agree.

---

We spent the remaining time skiing and socializing with Jack and the group. The constant activity kept both of us occupied, but I could sense Andrew’s underlying relief at not having to deal with any one-on-one time. It gave him just a bit more freedom to enjoy my body.

When we finally returned to the city, we headed straight to Andrew’s apartment, where I had been living for the past month. We both knew the time had come to initiate the swap back.

We sat down in front of the computer, both our faces tense with anticipation. We logged into our accounts and navigated to the swap option, ready to hit "agree" and complete the process.

I took a deep breath and clicked the button. We watched as the screen loaded, but then—nothing. The page remained frozen, and no confirmation appeared. I tried refreshing and reloading, but nothing happened.

L: What’s happening? Why isn’t it working?

Andrew’s face mirrored my anxiety, but he tried to remain calm.

A: I don’t know. This shouldn’t be happening. Maybe there’s a delay or an issue with the system.

Andrew explains our predicament to the woman who answers, and I can hear the strain in his voice. To ensure she hears everything clearly, he puts her on speakerphone.

Support: Alright, I see both accounts here—193785 and 293743. Let me just pull up your files. Ah, yes, here we go. It looks like you’ve elected to make the swap permanent. Is that correct?

My heart sinks at her words. I practically shout into the phone.

L: No, that is not correct! We are trying to swap back. There must be some mistake.

The support woman’s voice is calm but firm.

Support: I’m sorry for the confusion, but the system shows that a permanent extension was requested and confirmed. I’ll need to check the details.

Andrew’s face pales, and he looks at me with a mixture of panic and disbelief. I can barely contain my frustration as I listen to her go through the necessary steps to resolve the issue.

Support: It appears there was an error in the system update. I’m going to escalate this to a higher level of support to see if we can correct the error and revert the request.

We’re soon connected with a higher-level support representative, her voice authoritative and reassuring. Andrew takes the lead, explaining that we had requested and received an extension for the swap until Tuesday.

Support: Yes, you would have until Tuesday to finalize the swap. However, my records show that one of the ‘permanency actions’ as outlined in the terms and conditions has been triggered.

L: What are those conditions?

Support: They are specific conditions that, if met, result in the swap becoming permanent. Let me check the details. Did either of you initiate a swap with a third person?

L: No.

Support: Acquire an incurable STI?

L: No.

Support: Have sex with one another?

I hesitate for a moment before admitting the truth.

L: Fuck… um… yeah.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Andrew smirking, but his expression quickly shifts to surprise when I glance directly at him.

L: Did you set this up?

Andrew looks genuinely taken aback as he shakes his head.

A: No, I had no idea. And it was you who wanted to have sex in the first place!

The support representative continues calmly.

Support: Well, it appears that engaging in sexual activity with one another is one of the conditions that can trigger permanency. I’m afraid this means that the swap may have indeed become permanent.

The weight of her words settles heavily between us. Andrew’s face shows a mix of guilt and frustration as he tries to explain himself.

A: I swear, I didn’t know this would happen.

L: This is bullshit. We need to find a way to reverse this. There has to be something we can do.

The representative takes a deep breath, her tone sympathetic but firm.

Support: I understand your frustration, but once a permanency action is triggered, reversing it can be very complex and might not be possible through standard procedures. I will escalate this to our senior team and see if there are any exceptional measures we can take.

Andrew takes the phone back from me and speaks with a confident tone to the support rep.

A: “Actually, on second thought, that won’t be necessary. Thank you so much for your time. Have a nice day.”

He hangs up the phone and turns to me, his demeanor shifting back to the dominant personality he’d exhibited before.

A: Andrew, you need to get a grip.

L: That’s not my name—you're Andrew.

A: No, according to everyone, my name is Luke now. And you should call me Luke too if you know what’s best for you.

His dominant tone returns, and he flexes, showing off the physique that now belongs to him.

A: You know what? I think I was right a few weeks ago. This body deserves a stud like me leading it. And I think you know it too. Deep down, you knew that fucking would make it permanent and wanted me to have all this.

L: Admit it and maybe I’ll let you fuck my hole again sometime.

Dejectedly, I sight with a mix of anger and resignation.

L: Yes sir.

Andrew’s smirk broadens again – his demeanor shifting back to one of a happy go lucky kid.

A: That’s what I thought. Now, let’s enjoy our new lives.

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wanderingblindly · 26 days

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possibly kiss 47 landoscar????? (maybe pr nightmare lando????)

Hmmmmm accidentally ended up with PR nightmare Lando and Oscar? Hope that suits! Feel free to send more prompts, I’m getting through them!

Something to Talk About

“I think you should try an original question. Maybe a good one, if you’ve got it.” Lando smiles as he says it, ever the media darling, but does little to keep the acid off his tongue. The interviewer freezes for a moment, mouth agape.

“Oh, uh.” He says, fumbling in his jacket for a notepad.

“Lotta chat about professionalism for someone with one question prepared,” Lando laughs — cutting and snide — as he leans back on the couch. Oscar shifts beside him, the tip of his boot grazing Lando’s.

For a brief moment, as the audience of the post-race conference clutches their pearls, Lando and Oscar catch each other’s eyes.

Play nice, Oscar reminds him, brow raised just enough for Lando to see.

He’s right. Because, if McLaren’s PR team is to be believed, the issue is “handled”. He’s meant to bite his tongue and not give the media a sound bite, an out of context headline about Lando Norris: Fallen from Grace.

He crinkles his nose back, a silent: Yeah, sure.

They told him to bite his tongue, and he will. But if the media keeps wanting to ask about edited paparazzi photos from winter break rather than his win, he can’t be faulted with biting more. If he pulls away with a pound of flesh between his teeth, certainly that’s just a natural consequence of the situation.

Another interviewer finally pipes up, “Oscar, maybe you would like to shed some light on Lando’s —”

“Well-earned victory?” Oscar smiles into his microphone with a good-natured laugh, clearly hoping to alleviate the tension in the room; it doesn’t work. He earns some nervous giggles at best, further highlighting the sour mood. “I mean, it’s been a strong weekend for the team all around. Maybe he could have done better in turn nine, sorry mate, but —”

“Actually,” The interviewer cuts Oscar’s perfectly trained response off, and Lando nearly sees red. He grips his microphone so hard that it creaks. “I was going to ask, as Lando’s teammate, are you concerned about his winter break —”

This isn’t Oscar’s fucking problem to deal with.

He raises the microphone to his lips, ready to tear into him, when Oscar continues.

Completely deadpan, eyebrows flat: “Actually, I want to talk about turn nine.”

It’s Lando’s turn to press a toe against Oscar’s, hoping he gets it. Hoping he gets that this isn’t his battle to fight. But Oscar doesn’t reply, leaning forward in his seat, elbows rested on his knees and staring at the journalist with startlingly calm fire in his eyes.

“And if you don’t want to discuss the race at the post-race conference, then maybe you should leave.”

“Oscar,” The moderator says, warning in his voice. “If you’d like to address the question, you can. Otherwise, we’ll take the next —”

Lando watches the back and forth like a tennis match, uncertain how he ended up on the sidelines of his own PR crisis. He raises his microphone up again, hoping to get a word in, when Oscar beats him, again.

“If you don’t want to talk about racing, fine.” He spits, turning to look at Lando with eyes he’s only seen once before: in a certain driver room, after a certain crash-out double DNF, right before a certain confession.

Lando’s eyebrows shoot towards his hairline, a brief moment to ask are you fucking sure?, before Oscar grabs his jaw with one hand. Into the microphone, “Then talk about this.”

Oscar’s microphone clatters to the ground, the feedback nearly deafening for a moment, but Lando doesn’t hear it. All he hears is his gentle hah as Oscar slams their lips together, fingers gripping his jaw so tightly the joint pops.

It’s not entirely dissimilar to their first kiss: Oscar — enraged — letting his carefully suppressed emotions get the best of him. And Lando, having long since given up on the possibility, freezing before kissing back.

The camera flashing and yelling is new, however.

Lando’s mind tunes back in to that bit, which is probably more important than running his tongue against Oscar’s race-dehydrated lips.

They separate with twin smiles, and Lando makes a show of wiping his mouth on his forearm before holding his microphone up. “Right, any new questions?”

#bitchy boyfriends <333333 #pretend this makes sense #but also this concept is so fun!!!! thank u for the prompt!!!!!!#ask me :)#landoscar #landoscar fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 Drabble #liqfic

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 7 months

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Yandere Hare and Bunny Hybrids (3)

Part 2

Once you’ve returned and washed the smell of the ‘outside’ off of you

Better make way for theirs

Chryst is taking over immediately smothering you with his scent

Jared will eventually intercede only to do the same thing but the thing is he’ll let you move around

His bunny counterpart takes it quite personally when you don’t immediately drop everything to cuddle him

“Don’t you want to smell like me? To be held by me?”

“Chryssy, I need to go to the bathroom first.”

“Without me?”

Again Jared doesn’t need to hog you directly, especially when it comes to scenting

He’s already made sure he’s done it with the entire home

“Do you want to cuddle too Jared?”

“Nah it’s fine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“So you don’t want to cuddle? Not even a little bit?”

“....Fine. But only because you’re giving me those eyes.”

The good thing about your hybrids is that when you're around they wouldn’t want to be anywhere else

So you don’t have to worry about them kicking, curbstomping, pestering your neighbors

Or getting into concerning shenanigans

“So what’d you guys do today?”

“Nothin’ ” “Only waiting for you my bun!”

“Right. Well, miss Najimi called and said you were burying something in the yard.”

“That wench!” “It was Chryst burrowing again. I convinced him to close it up so that you wouldn’t fall in it.”

“Oh okay! She sounded so frazzled, I would have thought you were burying a body or something.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to apologize later...for spooking her.”

When you’re home you can trust that neither of them is especially eager to part with you

But if it’s going to be anyone it’d be Jared

Unless Chryst is trying out his latest plan

Otherwise, Chryst will be on your back…literally

“Chryst I didn’t say I’d mind doing piggyback rides but I’d prefer you keep your hands on my shoulders.”

“You don’t like where my hands are now?”

“Not really…can you at least stop squeezing my chest, please.”

“Haha no.”

Jared is so well-behaved you’ll trust him to organize dinner

“Jared this tastes great!”

“Thanks.”

“It’s real good, Jarry!”

“Whatever.”

“ I reckon it’s deserving of @##$@%!”

“Chryst!?”

“Dude, I’d never do that at the table that’s just indecent. Maybe on the couch later though.”

Life with your hybrids is as peaceful as you keep it

Keeping the peace is the least of your problems especially with so many....predators about

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tarrynightss · 8 months

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Under Captain Price’s desk

Synopsis: You give Price a blowjob underneath his desk, only for Soap to walk in. It would be better to stop before you get caught, but teasing Price is so much more fun

Warnings: Smut

Pairing: John Price x genderneutral reader

One of Price’s hands is wound tightly in your hair, the other one gripping onto the edge of his desk like his life depends on it. You are seated underneath it, on your knees, your mouth sliding along his cock deliciously. The sinful sight of it alone has a flush appearing behind his beard. You shouldn’t do this, not right here in his office during the day, but Price was far too eager for your touch to stop you. Your eyes stare up at his, tears pricking at the corners when you take him deep into your throat, your hands bracing you against his muscular thighs. With the way his hips sputter up against your face you can tell he’s close, his face scrunched up in pleasure. All you hear are his soft groans before a knock startles you both.

Price pulls you off of his cock with lightning speed, quickly pushing you further underneath his desk and scooting himself closer to it as well. Your back is pressed against the wood of his desk, his cock smearing your own spit and his precum along your cheek as there is little space for either of you to move to. Your face is essentially sandwhiched against his crotch, but not without reason, as within seconds you hear the door to his office opening.

“I did not tell you you could come in,” Price says gruffly, trying to appear as casual as possible.

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat as you realize you almost got caught on your knees in front of your captain. A shiver runs over your spine as you imagine what could’ve happened, the thought surprisingly not all that unpleasant…

A care-free laugh resounds through the room, and you quickly pinpoint it to be Soap’s. “Don’t be such a hard-ass cap, got those files you wanted.”

Price’s hand in your hair strokes you gently, clearly telling you to stay still as you hear footsteps approaching the desk. You really, really should, but another shiver of excitement runs through you as you turn your head slightly, smearing his cock over your lips. You can feel the muscles in his thighs flex under your fingers, the hand in your hair tightening in warning. A smile pulls at your lips as you move one hand to grip onto his cock, bringing the head directly against your mouth.

“Great,” Price coughs, covering up a surprised groan when your tongue flicks out to lick his tip. “Leave them here and I’ll look through them later.”

You hear the thick folder hit the wood above your head. “You sure cap? There’s a lot here to sift through. Seriously, when you start reading what this guy’s been up to…”

As Soap rattles on you stop listening, instead focusing on licking from the base of Price’s cock back up to the tip, circling your tongue around it teasingly. You can feel him twitch in your hand with every movement, his hips slightly bucking when you close your lips around the head. He tugs on your hair again, warning you, but you don’t relent.

“You alright? You’re looking a bit flushed, heard there’s a bug going around,” Soap says, blissfully unaware of what is actually happening.

Price curses under his breath as he runs a hand over his face. You would chuckle about how stressed you have him if your mouth wasn’t currently occupied otherwise, sliding his cock deeper and deeper into your throat.

“I’m fine, just real busy,” Price tells Soap. His hand tugs at your hair, but this time it isn’t to warn you to stop, oh no. You feel the difference, feel the edge of roughness as he does it. You’re definitely paying for this later. “Let’s meet up in two hours, yeah? Then we’ll go over the details.”

Soap lingers for a moment more before you hear his heavy boots retreating back to the door. “Understood, sir.”

You can feel Price’s muscles relax as soon as Soap closes the door behind himself, leaving the two of you alone again. He instantly scoots back his chair, pulling you off of him as you whine.

“Fuck, you want to get me in trouble, don’t you, love?” He says, his brows drawn together in a frown.

He’s a little frustrated, but there’s also clear desire in his gaze as he stares down at you. And he could never get mad at you, not really.

You give him a sheepish smile. “I can’t help that you didn’t lock your door.”

He grabs onto your arm, tugging you up on his lap till you’re practically face to face with him, uncaring about dirtying your pants or shirt as his cock presses up against your stomach. “Right, because I should’ve known you would crawl under my desk, suck my cock, and then not even stop when one of my men comes in.”

“A true lack of foresight on your part, captain.” You bite your lip to hold back a chuckle.

He grabs onto your chin with one hand, and a heavy second passes before a lazy grin pulls at his lips. “You are dirty little thing, you know that?”

“Affirmative.”

He groans in approval, pressing a soft yet hungry kiss to your lips before pulling away and slapping your ass.

“Now go lock the door, I’m not done with you yet.”

#john price x reader #smut #john price #John price x reader smut #john price x gender neutral reader #john price x female reader #cod #cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #cod price #captain price #price x reader

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metalomagnetic · 21 days

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Missing scene from 'It runs in the blood'

It takes place after Arcturus' death, but before Helix is born.

This was not supposed to ever be published, but people on discord convinced me, so forgive me if it's a bit rough! Just a fun little scene with the kids.

***

“Father?” Orion comes barreling into the office, and the rest trail after him.

“Knock, first,” Sirius reminds him.

“Yes, Draco. Knock.” Lucius fixes Draco with a stern look.

“Alright,” both boys agree, but judging by their tone, they don’t take it seriously.

“I tried to stop them,” Harry offers, but his grin suggests otherwise.

“Father,” Orion goes on. “When you die, I’ll get all the gold and the houses, right?”

Lucius chokes on his firewhiskey.

Sirius blinks. “Where is this coming from?”

“Daddy!” Marvolo looks so upset. “Orion says I’ll be poor! That I won’t get anything, because I’m just the spare.”

Lucius is trying hard not to laugh beside Sirius.

“What is going on?”

“I’m picking a husband,” Elara explains. “And I want to marry the rich one.”

“That’s me, not Marvolo,” Orion shouts. “Tell her, Father!”

Sirius opens his mouth, closes it again, then glares at Lucius, who starts laughing.

“That’s why Malfoys stop at one son,” he whispers.

“You didn’t even want to play with her,” Sirius reminds his sons. Just an hour earlier, they were all having tantrums that they don’t want to pay with the girls.

“Well, no, but if we are forced to play, then I’ll be the husband, obviously,” Orion says. “It’s the most important position in the game, so I’ll have it.”

“No, stupid, the bride is the most important,” Elara tells him, rolling her eyes. “It’s my big day, I’m the most important.”

"Why don’t you go ask Astrid, yeah? She’ll sort you out,” Sirius says, trying to shoo them away.

“She doesn't know about gold,” Orion dismisses the idea. “So, tell her I’m the richest one.”

“I’m the richest one,” Draco intervenes. “When Father dies, I’ll be richer than Orion.”

“That’s lovely, Draco,” Lucius says.

Draco shrugs. “And,” he adds, looking at Elara. “I’m also the oldest. And the tallest. You should marry me.”

“Just you wait, Draco! I’ll grow up taller!” Orion hisses, enraged.

“I’m already rich,” Harry points out. “I don’t have to wait for anyone to die. I already own my vault, right, Sirius?”

“That’s right,” Sirius agrees.

“Father, why does Harry already have a vault?” Draco whines. “That’s not fair!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Orion snaps. “I’ll be Head of house Black, that trumps everything.”

All the boys start fighting.

“I am the Head of House Black,” Sirius says, loudly. “I’m the tallest, the oldest, and the richest-”

“Actually,” Lucius says. “I’m the oldest and the richest.”

Elara glances between them. “Are you?”

“I am,” Lucius assures her, with a smile.

“Hmm.” She tilts her head, but then she shrugs. “You’re not a Black, though.”

Lucius rolls his eyes, mutters something about incest.

“So,” she adds, turning to Sirius. “You’re right, Uncle. You’re the best choice- I’ll marry you.”

“NO! ME!” Orion stomps his foot on the ground.

“I’m flattered,” Sirius says, “but I’m already married, sweetheart.”

Elara waves it away. “It’s only pretend wedding. For the day. I’m only doing it so my new husband can buy me a wedding gift. And I bet you can buy more stuff than Orion and the rest. It’s settled. I’ll marry you. Come, we’ll have the ceremony and then you can give me the gifts.”

“Wait, wait!” Lucius says. “You need to negotiate first. Make sure you get a good deal.”

“Oh,” Elara falls pensive. “But I don’t know how to do that- contracts. And Daddy is at work-”

“I’ll help you,” Lucius offers.

“Fine. Uncle Sirius, I want one Abraxan pony, three dresses, and a baby dragon. Oh and two dolls! One of those new ones we saw in Rome, that can talk!”

“How about ten dolls, and six dresses, but you drop the dragon and the pony?” Sirius suggests, lifting her into his arms.

“Alright,” she agrees.

“And that is why you should never get married without your father’s approval,” Lucius says. “Sirius is ripping you off.”

“Regina,” Orion yells, when they all reach the living room. “Regina, I’ll marry you. Father stole Elara.”

“I don’t want to get married,” Regina says. “It’s Elara’s wedding, not mine!”

“You’ll get dolls out of it,” Orion says, impatient. “Here.” He takes off his necklace and gives it to Regina. “I’m sure it’s expensive, at least it would buy you a doll.”

“Fine, then,” Regina agrees, tossing her red hair over her shoulder.

“Found a husband,” Elara announces from Sirius’ arms. “Don’t worry, Astrid, I’ll give him back after he gives me the gifts.”

“I thought the plan was to get one of the boys,” Evy says with a laugh.

“Someone,” Sirius glares at Narcissa, “taught her she has to pick the richest.”

“You picked badly, in that case,” Narcissa says, shamelessly. “Lucius is the richest, Elara.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“Sirius, language!”

“Apparently, I am worth nothing because I’m not a Black,” Lucius says, sitting beside his wife.

“Then you should have picked Draco,” Narcissa admonishes, when Sirius hands Elara over, so she can have her dress charmed. “He’s part Black and he will be very rich, indeed.”

“I’ll marry Draco next year,” Elara decides, trying to twist her hair around her finger.

Orion makes an infuriating sound.

“What?” Elara glares at him. “You picked Regina!”

“Alright,” Sirius says, loudly, when another fight is about to start. “Who is going to be my best man? Harry?”

“Yes, please!”

“Marvolo, you are mine,” Orion orders.

“No way! You told me you’ll disown me and I’ll have to live under a bridge when you’ll be Head of House.”

“You told him that?” Sirius smacks Orion over the head. “You are going to get it, boy!”

“Not now, Sirius,” Regina begs. “I want to get my dolls, so after the wedding, please.”

Eventually, after Elara gets her play wedding and she makes Sirius dance with her, and then all the boys, too, everyone calms down, though Orion is still snappy with Marvolo for a while. Harry intervenes between them often, trying to placate them both.

“You best be nice and quiet,” he tells the baby, a hand over Astrid's stomach. The baby kicks. “Please, be good. I can’t take another crazy one.”

When Regulus finally returns from the Ministry, all the children have calmed down, and Evy already took her little demons back to their home.

“I got married,” Elara says, running to Regulus. “My gifts are coming tomorrow.”

“Who did you marry?” Regulus asks, letting her climb on his lap.

“Uncle Sirius. He could buy me more dolls than the others.”

Regulus snorts. “You should have consulted me first. I’d have gotten something better than dolls.”

Elara giggles. “It’s fine, next year I’ll marry Draco. You can do the contract thing and get me more stuff, then.”

Eventually, everyone but Regulus retires to bed, and Sirius enjoys the first minutes of silence in what had been a long day, even if he can hear the faint fight Orion is having with Marvolo upstairs.

“Your daughter is a menace,” he informs Regulus.“I pity the poor soul who’ll end up with her.”

Regulus frowns. “Orion can handle her.”

Sirius blinks at him. “What?”

“Well, they are getting married, aren’t they?" Regulus looks surprised that Sirius is surprised. “It’s what grandfather wanted. Everyone knows it. I thought it was settled.”

“Merlin’s cock!” Sirius stands. “You’re all fucking crazy. Stop it with the incest already! And grandfather changed his mind before he died!”

“You’re spending too much time with Lucius; you sound like him!”

“They’re not getting married, don’t be an idiot!”

“Why not?”

“Why not? For- Regulus, they’re kids!”

“Well, not now, obviously. Eventually. Where are you going?”

“Somewhere where I can find sane people!” Sirius snarls at him. “So, a muggle bar!”

#elara changes her mind about marriage after she sees Astrid giving birth #little terrors #Lucius can't stop bragging about his wealth #it runs in the blood #missing scene

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minhohours · 6 months

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birthday wish | bang chan

Pairing: BF!Chan x GN!Reader

Summary: It's your birthday, and your boyfriend decides to celebrate (in your bedroom, all day long)

Genre: fluff, smut

Content: pet names, praise kink, strip tease, soft dom!chan, piv penetration, fingering, oral, groping, protected sex, it's your day and he just wants to pleasure you ;), 18+ MDNI!

Note: @wolfboybangchan this one's for you! happy bday <3

It started as soon as you woke up. Your boyfriend brought you breakfast in bed, homemade pancakes topped with whip cream and fruit, perfectly crisp bacon, and coffee just the way you like it. He brought it on a silver platter, dressed in nothing but an apron and a smudge of flour on his cheek.

"Breakfast and a show, just for you darling," Chan says with a wink. "Let me just get one more thing, and then we can really celebrate."

He places the tray on your lap, kisses your forehead, and turns around to leave. He really wasn't wearing anything else under that apron, and you got a full view of his back muscles and his ass as he left the room.

The food was beautifully decorated, and delicious. He clearly put a lot of effort in to make it look and taste perfect. You knew he'd been planning this day for the last week, so you were excited to see what was next.

The door opens, and Chan peeks his head in and grins. He was wearing a birthday party hat.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!" he sings, walking in with a cupcake in one hand and a plastic crown in the other. The cupcake has a lit candle on it, and he keeps singing as he walks over to you. Finally, he places the crown on your head and gives you the cupcake. You laugh at his antics, and when he finishes the birthday song you blow out the candle.

"Thank you, Chan," you say.

"Don't thank me yet, we haven't even gotten to the best part yet."

"Oh? And what's coming next?"

"If everything goes well, it'll be you." He winks again, and you laugh. "Finish your breakfast."

You scarf it down as fast as you can.

He unties the back of his apron, and slowly removes it over his head, teasing at what's underneath.

He moves the apron down, revealing skin inch by inch at at agonizingly slow pace. First he reveals his collarbone, then his chest, then he lowers it to his abs, showing off each ab individually. When he finally reaches his pelvis, he quickly brings the apron back up.

"Come on!" you whine.

"Okay, okay!"

He drops the apron.

He's wearing blue boxers with the words 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY' on the waistband and a birthday present over his bulge. Of course he wasn't going to make it simple.

"Ha ha, very funny."

"What, you don't want to open my package?" he says, grinning.

You roll your eyes. You love your boyfriend to death, but he has a penchant for turning any situation into a gag.

"Take it off!"

"Alright! So impatient."

He thumbs the waistband and pulls down his boxers.

Hi [Y/N],

We hope you have been enjoying your free trial with 'birthday wish | bang chan'

Unfortunately, we’re coming to the end of this journey, but we’d love to keep it going!

In order to read the rest of this fic, you’ll need to select one of our paid plans. Otherwise, your trial will end and you won’t be able to access premium features any longer.

Here's what's included in the fic:

Another boxer under the first boxer

Chan goes "AWOOO"

You break the bed

Chan slips on the cupcake wrapper

You get that thang in ya

You squeak his tiddies and it makes a honking noise

Chan accidentally steps on the bottle of lube and it makes a mess on the plush carpet and he has to stop to go clean it up and it lowkey kills the vibe

You both fart at the same time

And so much more!

Choose your plan now:

If you’re not sure which one is right for you, you should try the Basic plan – it’s a great place to start.

Have any questions or need help? We’re only a message away – just hit reply and we’ll get right back to you.

- minhohours

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan #chan smut #chan x reader #chan x reader smut

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yeowangies · 18 days

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PAIRING: Jiraiya/AFAB!Reader. CONTENTS: Explicit sexual content, Cunnilingus. WORDCOUNT: 697.

Notes: Not proofread. I had him on my mind etc etc. I just know he gives good head.

The view you had from the bed was nice, arousing; you haven’t gotten tired of it, and you probably never will. Jiraiya had his head between your thighs, keeping them open with his hands on your flesh.

Sitting back on your elbows, dress pushed up your waist, you stared at him as he drug his tongue over the skin of your inner thighs, keeping his eyes fixed on you. A smirk adorned his face, obviously pleased with himself; he knew how much you enjoyed whenever he went down on you. He rarely even expected anything in return, no matter that you offered to relieve him sometimes, he was simply content with tasting you and making you come on his tongue.

“Missed you so much, princess,” Jiraiya purred against your skin, making you shiver. “Can’t tell you how much I thought about you and your sweet pussy since I last saw you.”

You blushed and smiled widely; you weren’t used to his dirty words yet but they never failed to turn you on, heat blooming quickly in your lower abdomen. He must have noticed how drenched your panties were as his grin got wider.

“And from what I can see, you missed me too.”

“We’ll see,” You replied playfully, reaching for him and running your fingers through his hair. “Show me you haven’t lost your talent.”

“Oh baby,” Jiraiya said, almost desperately, as you tugged off his headband, letting it fall behind him. “I’d die before ever letting you down.”

He licked his lips, dark eyes focused on you, and you bit your lip, trying not to show how happy you were. His enthusiasm just made you happy. You teased him before, but he would always make you reach your peak at an alarmingly short period of time; he was just that good, and you doubted he would ever lose that ability.

Dragging your panties down your legs and discarding them haphazardly, Jiraiya parted your thighs again, exposing your sex and pressing kisses closer and closer to your core. You sighed, threading your fingers through his white hair once more, tugging softly at it to let him know of your urgency, but otherwise letting him do as he pleased. Chuckling softly, he trailed his lips towards your entrance, planting open mouth kisses to the side, making you gasp when you felt his breath wash over your sensitive skin.

You moaned, long and loud, when Jiraiya slid his tongue over your slit, collecting the slick dripping from you. He groaned almost simultaneously, closing his eyes momentarily, as if he was savoring the most exquisite dessert ever made. He moved his tongue over your entrance again, prodding at your clit, making your legs jolt in his grasp.

“Jiraiya…” You moaned breathily, tugging at his hair a little harder this time.

He grinned cheekily against your pussy, smug about your reaction, as he continued dragging his tongue and lips over every bit of skin.

Your body reacted naturally to him; Jiraiya knew you just as well as the palm of his hand, moving his tongue with expertise, kissing the sensitive skin, mixing his spit with your arousal as it dripped down your thighs and onto the sheets.

Pressing his face closer, he buried his tongue inside you, nudging your clit with his nose, and you instantly mewled. If it wasn’t for his bruising grip on your thighs, you would have trapped his head already, making him live between your legs forever if you could.

His warm wet tongue explored every inch inside of you, skillfully pressing against your most sensitive spots, causing the muscles in your abdomen to tense. Jiraiya stared at you with lustful eyes, knowing fully well about the effect he had on you, how good he was with his mouth. You couldn’t even tease him about it, not when he nuzzled closer, rubbing the tip of his nose against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

Your mind went blank, vision turning blurry around the edges seconds later, arms giving out on you as you collapsed on the bed. Jiraiya chuckled darkly, taking you in as you reached your orgasm, tasting your release on his mouth.

#jiraiya smut #jiraiya fic #jiraiya x reader #jiraiya x you #jiraiya #naruto fics #my writing #drabbles #divider by saradika

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coloursparks · 1 year

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Not Like That

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC Summary: Things change over the summer holiday with Sebastian, and then things get messy. Might as well spend the first few weeks of your last year fighting about it. WC: 6.1k Notes: Oh god, the first fic I've written in like six years and I am sure it's shit. I am sorry if characterization is off. It takes me a minute?? I also have zero clue if I want this to be canon compliant or not so there's absolutely no mention of Anne or what happened! Also, no beta so please don't be too harsh. I just wanted to have fun writing a thing and hopefully someone else enjoys it!

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“How else am I supposed to look?” you asked Imelda. “Do you hear yourself talk?”

“Do you?” she shot back, giving you the same exasperated look you were giving her. “If you don’t say something about it soon, you’re going to lose your chance. I’m not sure I can hold them at bay much longer.”

“I don’t know what chance you think I should have,” you said, though you didn’t sound as confident about it. The fact of the matter was you knew exactly what Imelda was talking about, and she was right. You hated that she was right.

“Sallow’s come back a foot taller and just bigger and you aren’t the only one who’s noticed,” she pointed out. “Violet’s determined to slip him a love potion. I’ve been trying to tell her he’s already involved, but considering I can’t say who, it hasn’t worked all too well.”

“I hate her,” you muttered, feeling a prick of jealousy.

“You hate anyone who so much as bats an eyelash at him,” Imelda pointed out. “You can save yourself the trouble but just telling him that you fancy him and snog in the upstairs of the Three Broomsticks already.”

“Imelda!”

“Or snog him somewhere else. I happen to quite like the upstairs of the Three Broomsticks for that sort of thing, but to each their own,” she said simply, shrugging. She was unashamed, and part of you envied her for it.

“It’s not that simple,” you sighed, giving her a pleading look.

“And why not?”

“Because…because…” you stammered, trying to find a reason that would satisfy your friend. When none came to mind as she stared at you expectantly, you groaned and rested your head on your crossed arms on the table in front of you. “He’s going to have a right laugh at me, Imelda.”

“No, he will not,” she said, poking you in the shoulder. You looked up at her, already defeated and resigned to the fact that despite your years-long pining for Sebastian Sallow, nothing would ever come at it.

“What makes you so sure?” you asked.

“Because Sallow’s a lot of things, but he’s not that cruel. Besides, for all you know, he could be whining to Ominus about how much he fancies you but thinks he has no chance,” she pointed out. “Now, come on. We’ll be late, and Hecat swore to put me in detention if I was late again.” The two of you stood from the table in the library where you had been sitting, gathering up your belongings before heading to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

“Why are you so late all the time anyway?” you asked curiously as you held open the door into Central Hall for her.

“Flying,” she answered simply.

Of course. It was Imelda - you should have known.

___

“Mr. Sallow, why must you always duel in my classroom?”

Professor Hecat was only just leaving her office as you and Imelda entered and seemed too busy repairing the collateral damage from Sebastian’s duel with Leander Prewett to notice the two of you sneaking to nearby seats. The room was righting itself as Sebastian raised his hands up to the professor, taking a few steps away from the dueling platform he had been standing on.

“Because, Professor, there isn’t another place where dueling is sanctioned,” he pointed out, his voice conveying innocence he didn’t possess. You rolled your eyes because you knew full well that dueling being sanctioned didn’t stop him from doing it. Crossed Wands meetings and plenty of adventures proved otherwise, and the look Hecat was giving him also showed she knew otherwise.

“Let’s see if we can make it through the term without you destroying my classroom, Mr. Sallow.”

“I’m sorry, Professor,” he said, raising his wand and muttering a hasty spell to repair the nearby broken desk. It righted itself in one piece, still smoking slightly. “It won’t happen again.” He shot her a smile before heading to a nearby seat. “Imelda, what are you doing here? I didn’t realize Quidditch players needed N.E.W.T.S. Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he chuckled as he leaned forward to look at her.

“I take no chances,” Imelda replied cooly. “You never know what an opponent will do to get ahead, and knowing how to unjinx a broom can’t hurt.”

“If you say so,” he said, still smiling as he shook his head. “And my favorite Hufflepuff returns. I was starting to wonder if you even still went here,” he joked, elbowing you gently in the arm.

“No, still here,” you chuckled awkwardly, trying to rub the tingling feeling out of your arm where he had touched you. It was ridiculous, letting a simple touch get to you, but everything was ridiculous when he was involved.

Before either of you could say anything else, Professor Hecat was calling for the class to focus on her so she could teach. You tried your best to pay attention, but the fact you were next to Sebastian was nothing short of distracting. Words came out of the professor’s mouth and you tried to hold onto them, only for them to slip through your fingers because Sebastian was making that focused face he always made when he was trying to learn something, brow furrowed and the tip of his tongue poking out as he scribbled on parchment.

It was the first time you had really gotten to see him up close. Sebastian had certainly grown over the summer holiday – he was broader and if there were any doubts, the way his sleeves were pulled taut over his arms put them to rest. He was a head taller than last year, and you cursed him mentally for somehow having even more freckles. He had left sixth year looking more like a boy and returned for seventh year looking like a man, and you certainly hadn’t been the only one who noticed.

Part of the reason why Sebastian had joked about not knowing if you had come back to Hogwarts was that you hadn’t been able to get his attention before now. You had seen him on the Hogwarts Express, but he and Ominis had been having such an intense-seeming conversation that you hadn’t wanted to interrupt. You had tried to end up in the same carriage on the way up to the school, but before you could tell him that you had room in your carriage, Violet McDowell was pulling him into hers with Sebastian tugging Ominis in too.

Dejected and a little annoyed, you had ridden up to the school in huffy silence with Imelda and Poppy.

Outside of trying to wave at Sebastian from the Hufflepuff table after the sorting, you hadn’t bothered to get his attention. He was clearly enjoying the attention of the girls that somehow seemed to find every free space around him. You could have sworn that you saw Imelda notice the upset look on your face, but you decided to jab at your roast potatoes instead of looking at the Slytherin table any longer.

It was the bell to signal the end of class that shook you from your stupor. You had zoned out watching Sebastian, who blissfully hadn’t noticed the attention. Unfortunately for you, Imelda certainly had. She gave you a look that very clearly said that her thoughts from your earlier conversation hadn’t changed. Luckily, before she could say anything about it, Sebastian was ducking in the way.

“Imelda, Quidditch,” he said quickly, noticing he needed to head her off talking about something, even if he didn’t know what it was.

“What about it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she packed her belongings.

“Tryouts,” Sebastian said simply. “Want to know when they’re happening. Decided to finally try out.” When Imelda gave eyed him suspiciously, like she thought she was walking into a trap of some kind, he sighed and added, “I was told to do something more productive and sanctioned with my time.”

“You’re serious?” Imelda asked. “What position?”

“Beater. You need those, right?”

“We do,” she agreed. She glanced over at you, sighed, and then looked back to Sebastian. “I’m going down to the pitch before Potions if you want to practice before tryouts and I can give you tips to improve.”

You wanted to laugh. As much as Imelda probably wanted you and Sebastian alone together so you could confess the feelings you still wouldn’t admit to, her love of Quidditch won out. Secretly, you were thankful for it.

“Do you want to join us?” Sebastian asked hopefully, looking over at you. “Get a leg up on your Slytherin competition.”

“Hufflepuff still wouldn’t stand a chance,” Imelda pointed out, and you rolled your eyes.

“No, I’ve got Divination,” you told him, choosing to ignore Imelda’s teasing.

“You’re still taking that?”

You shrugged in response. “I like Professor Onai. Plus, someone has to keep Natty company,” you explained. “You two don’t get bloodied up too bad without me.”

“Don’t worry, if Sallow’s any good, his pretty face will stay pretty,” Imelda laughed, and you knew that she was trying to get a rise out of you. Sebastian, thankfully, seemed a bit preoccupied with the comment himself to notice the color rising in your cheeks. You excused yourself with the excuse of not wanting to be late to class before things could get any more awkward.

____

In the weeks after, you had seen more of Sebastian, and then suddenly a lot less. Unsurprisingly, he ended up making the Quidditch team. With the beginning of the Quidditch season coming up, Imelda had them practicing at all hours, meaning that her time to try and press the issue of your feelings for Sebastian was blissfully cut short.

Luckily, you could at least still spend time with other friends who either didn’t notice what Imelda had or at least had the grace not to press you about it. Without Sebastian around, you seemed to find Ominis on his own more, and the nice part about spending time with him was that he didn’t seem to give a damn about your romantic life nor did he want to divulge on his own the way Poppy and Adelaide had been as of late. You were happy for your friends, but the constant questions about your own because the two Hufflepuffs weren’t as well-versed in your emotions as Imelda was getting to be a little much.

“What do you think you’ll do once you graduate?”

Ominis had been talking about what his own plans were as the two of you walked toward Hogsmeade. The two of you were friends, sure, but more because you had a mutual friend than because you spent any significant time together before now. You were catching up on the more interesting things now that the two of you were spending time together without Sebastian.

“When we did career conversations with our Heads of House, I thought I wanted to work for the Ministry but something about it doesn’t feel right anymore,” you told him, stepping out of the way of a witch carrying a stack of books with a cauldron perched precariously on top. “Bit mad to expect a bunch of children to decide what to do with their lives just like that, you know?”

“You sound like Sebastian,” he pointed out, chuckling slightly. “Says he might not bother with curse-breaking at all now. Might want to play Quidditch professionally instead.”

“He hasn’t played in a single game,” you laughed. “The season doesn’t start for another week and he wants to be a professional now?”

“Apparently so.”

“I’m not sure I believe that.”

“Well,” Ominis started, “you can ask him all about it later. He’s meeting us here after practice–if Imelda’s left enough of the team.”

“I didn’t know he was coming,” you said casually, trying to ignore the excitement from the news and the slight feeling of dread. As much as you liked Imelda, you hoped she wouldn’t be joining because you weren’t ready for another round of heavy-handed comments about you and Sebastian.

“The second I said you and I were going to Hogsmeade, he said he was joining,” he explained, shrugging. “You haven’t seen much of him lately, have you?”

“Outside of classes? No,” you sighed. “He seems too busy for me these days.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh,” you said, biting your lip.

You didn’t want to get into it with Ominis. He didn’t need to know how much it bugged you to see Sebastian at meal times, talking to the rest of the team or those girls that somehow always seemed to hang around him. He didn’t need to know how disappointed you were every time you couldn’t even get Sebastian’s attention to say hello, and when you did, half the time he was rushing off somewhere. You felt thoroughly left behind and the fact you cared so much about him made it hurt all that much more. The less Ominis knew about all of that, the better.

“He’s just been busy with Quidditch,” you replied finally, in too airy of a voice to be entirely convincing.

Thankfully, he let the topic of your mutual friend slide as you got into the village. You had needed to restock for Potions, and Ominis seemed uncharacteristically cheery in Honeydukes

and you didn’t have the heart to suggest going elsewhere when he wanted to explore. Leaving close to an hour later with your coin purses lighter but pockets heavier, you managed to get into and out of Gladrag’s with only the new scarf you had intended to buy before heading to the Three Broomsticks.

“There you two are!” Sebastian was sitting at a table in the corner, waving at the two of you. Your heart skipped at the look of the smile on his face, and you couldn’t help but smile back and wave to show that you spotted him.

“Would you mind grabbing the Butterbeers?” Ominis asked, turning towards the sound of Sebastian’s voice.

“Consider it done,” you told him, giving him a pat on the arm before heading to the bar. “Sirona! Can I get two Butterbeers?” She waved to show that she heard you, even as she was dealing with something else behind the bar. You looked around to see if there was other students in the pub, and you spotted a few younger Hufflepuffs and, a few tables over, Garreth Weasley and Everett Clopton discussing something on a piece of parchment in front of them. That was…dangerous.

The only other table of interest was the one you were heading to, and as you looked over at it, you saw Sebastian looking at you, still smiling. You smiled back, feeling a little silly at how easy it was for him to make you feel the way he did.

“It’s about time you two showed up,” Sirona commented as she slid two full glasses in front of you. You whipped around, giving her a confused look.

“What do you mean?”

“Sebastian’s been watching that door like his life depended on it,” she said. “Waiting for you.”

“Well, Ominis doesn’t come to the village often,” you pointed out, taking your drinks. “He was probably just worried about him and won’t admit it. Boys, you know.”

“Perhaps,” Sirona said, but the look on her face showed that she didn’t believe what you were saying. You pushed what you owed for the drinks toward her, and picked up the Butterbeer. She left it there, and you headed over to your friends. You placed Ominis’ drink in front of him before settling in the free seat.

“If we don’t win, I’m quitting,” Sebastian was telling Ominis.

“Already?” you asked, giving Sebastian an amused look.

“You have no idea what Imelda is like Captain,” he responded, shaking his head. “She woke us up before dawn this morning.”

“I feel like you knew what you were signing up for,” you laughed. “It’s not like it’s a surprise that Imelda is…intense.”

“But add a little power over people,” he sighed, “and you’ll be playing Quidditch every moment you’re not in class or asleep.”

“Just the way she likes it,” you pointed out, taking a sip of your drink. “I thought you wanted to play professionally?”

“Yeah but…” he trailed off. “When did I tell you that?”

“I told her before,” Ominis piped in. “She talks to you even less than I do. We compare notes,” he added dryly. You laughed at the comment. It was perfectly true. Sebastian and you would talk maybe for a minute before class or after, but Ominis at least saw him in the Slytherin Common Room. The two of you talked about other things, but the conversation would always turn to Sebastian at one point or another.

Sebastian frowned, but before he could say anything else about it, Ominis was talking about something else. For a while, Sebastian was uncharacteristically quiet as you two chatted about nothing in particular and drank your Butterbeers. Slowly, he became more himself, and you had to admit, it was nice to have what felt like the “old days” back again. It felt like you were back in the Undercroft, and not fighting for Sebastian’s attention.

Once all three glasses were empty, you stood up and scooped them into your arms. “I’ll go get us more,” you declared, smiling brightly. You didn’t want things to end just yet, so another round of drinks made the most sense. You had barely been up at the bar for a minute when your seat was taken by Violet McDowell. She had pulled the chair closer to Sebastian and was leaning so near him she might as well be in his lap, and Ominis was looking almost as annoyed as you were. Sirona said nothing about the look on your face other than a glance over to your table and a head shake.

Unable to carry all three drinks, you instead charmed the filled glasses to float in front of you as you headed back to the table. You let the three of them fall with more force than you meant to, causing loud thuds and Butterbeer to slop out over the rims and onto the table. Ominis, who couldn’t know that he should move back the way Sebastian had, got the brunt of the spill.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, more to him than the other two. “Just got away from me.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back to the castle with me?” Violet was simpering, ignoring what had just happened. “You said you’d help me with my Charms work, Bas.” You almost snorted at the nickname but managed to cover it up with a cough.

“I’ll meet you back in the common room later,” Sebastian told her, “go ahead without me.” Violet pouted, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek and look away from her. She was certainly shameless.

“Fine! But you promised,” Violet huffed before getting up and heading out, ignoring the other two people at the table completely. Ominis was trying to clean up the spilled Butterbeer so he either didn’t notice or care about Violet’s departure.

“I’m going to wash up,” Ominis said, standing up and shaking his hands.

“I’m really sorry, Ominis,” you sighed, and he just shook his head.

“Accidents happen.” He disappeared upstairs, leaving you and Sebastian alone for the first time since before the summer holiday. You pulled your chair back to where it had been before Violet showed up and sat down.

Things were quiet between the two of you for a long moment. Both of you seemed more interested in your drinks than speaking, and neither one of you looked at the other. It was Sebastian who finally broke the silence.

“So…you’ve been spending a lot of time with Ominis lately,” he mentioned casually. You shrugged, looking over at him.

“I guess,” you agreed. “You and Imelda have been busy with Quidditch, so it’s just been the two of us.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “Is that the only reason?” he asked in the same casual voice, leaning forward as if he was expecting you to spill about some secret mission you and Ominis were planning. It was then that you realized that you hadn’t pulled the chair back all the way, and with your back facing the corner where the table was settled, Sebastian was boxing you in. If Sebastian had looked like he had grown before, close up, he looked to have doubled in size with him so closer now. He seemed almost impossibly broad now, and you felt nothing short of tiny in comparison. You looked up at him, confused, blushing slightly.

“Yes?” you said nervously. “Why would there be another reason?”

“Don’t know,” he responded, settling his arm on the table as he continued to lean towards you, resting his head against his hand. “I haven’t seen you much this year so I thought…” he started, but you cut him off.

“That’s not my fault, Sebastian,” you huffed. “You’re the one who doesn’t have any time for me anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Sebastian looked taken aback at your words.

“You’re joking, right?” you said, leaning in a little closer as you stared him down. “You’ve barely said two words for me outside of class. You don’t bother to even say hi at meals anymore.”

“I haven’t seen you,” he explained, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“Of course, you haven’t seen me.” You rolled your eyes, frustration that had been bubbling finally coming to the surface. “You’re at practice or going to class or busy showing off for Violet and those other girls that follow you around.”

“I’m not showing off for Violet,” he shot back. “Or any of those other girls. I’m not asking them to do that!”

“And you’re not telling them to leave you alone either,” you pointed out, temper creeping into your voice. “You sure seem to be loving the attention every time I see you. Why would you bother looking up to say hi to me when you have…”

“What are you two talking about?”

Ominis had reappeared at the table. Sebastian slid back, no longer crowding you into the corner, looking annoyed.

“Nothing,” he told the other boy. He drained his entire Butterbeer before standing up. “I should head back to the Castle. Quidditch doesn’t leave much time for homework. I should catch up.” He didn’t bother waiting for either of you to say anything before starting to leave.

“Tell Violet we say hi, Bas.” The words were out of your mouth before you thought about it, and there was a small part of you that looked satisfied as a guilty look appeared on his face, but then replaced by a look of defiance.

“I’ll see you back at the common room, Ominis,” he said and was gone a moment later. You rolled your eyes, sitting back in your chair.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” you sighed. You looked at your drink, not really wanting it anymore. “Can we go back to school? I…uh, I think we’re getting close to curfew.”

“Right,” Ominis agreed, nodding. “Floo powder is faster.”

“Works for me,” you sighed, letting him lead the way over to the fire.

_____

The first Quidditch match of the season had the entire castle beside itself. You couldn’t share in the enthusiasm-–even fellow Hufflepuffs were excited to see Ravenclaw vs Slytherin—because it meant having to see Sebastian out on the field. Even in classes over the last week, you determinedly avoided so much as looking at him. Imelda, blissfully, was too worked up about the game to notice.

In the end, you decided to go to support her.

It hadn’t been too bad. Most of the other Hufflepuffs you were sitting with were cheering for Ravenclaw, but you and Poppy were too excited for Imelda to join in. It certainly got you two some looks from people nearby, but the excitement of seeing her score twice in a row made it easy to ignore. Despite your annoyance with him, it was still something else to see Sebastian zip by, sending bludgers toward the Ravenclaw Chasers.

You weren’t any less glad when you two were waiting for Imelda to come out of the changing room that she was the last one out.

“Sallow went up with the rest of the team before,” she told you as you hugged her.

“I don’t care,” you huffed. “I was waiting for you.”

“Why don’t you care? Could have gotten to him before Violet McDowell did.”

“Why would you want to get Sebastian before Violet McDowell?” Poppy asked, looking between you and Imelda. You led the way back up towards the castle, your friends following behind.

“I don’t,” you responded, shaking your head.

“What happened?” Imelda asked. “He was strange when I mentioned you before too.”

“Nothing happened,” you said. “He’d rather spend time with Violet McDowell? Fine. I don’t care.”

“Why does it matter who Sebastian spends time with?” Poppy asked. Then, she stopped. “Oh, you fancy him, don’t you?”

“Not anymore I don’t,” you huffed. “Now can we just leave it be?” Poppy, who you two hadn’t stopped for, ran to catch up with you. Imelda just laughed.

“He might be big on reading, but Sallow is as thick as they come,” she chuckled. “Good riddance, I say. You’ll do much better.”

“I always thought you and Ominis were cute together,” Poppy offered.

“You know, he asked me if there was a reason the two of us were spending so much time alone together,” you half laughed, half scoffed.

“You’re joking,” Imelda laughed. “When did he come to you with that idea?”

“Met us in Hogsmeade last week. He and I got into an argument and I haven’t spoken to him since,” you explained.

“How did I miss this?” Imelda asked, and looked to Poppy. “Did you know about this?”

“No! I didn’t even know she fancied Sebastian,” she said, “no one tells me anything, apparently! All these times we’ve talked about who I fancy and…”

“I don’t fancy Sebastian,” you sighed. “At least, not anymore.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “You two would be cute together too!”

“I don’t want to ever talk to him again,” you said shortly as the door to the castle swung open. “I also don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

“That’s right!” Imelda said brightly, “Outside of Quidditch, Sallow is nothing.” When you shot her a look, she shrugged. “He’s a good Beater, you have to admit. But outside of the pitch, won’t talk to him.”

“Am I still allowed to talk to him?” asked Poppy.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t you be?” you replied.

“Well, you aren’t and Imelda isn’t…” she trailed off, looking between the two of you.

“I’m just doing it because it’ll annoy him,” Imelda pointed out. “Sounds like fun, right?” You rolled your eyes, putting your hands up.

“Do whatever the two of you wish, but I am not getting involved. I’m going to the library,” you announced. “I have work to do that I ignored to come watch the game.”

“No fun!” Imelda called.

“What? It’s not like I can join the party anyway.”

“I’d sneak you in,” she offered. “What about you, Poppy?”

“No, I really should go check on…” she trailed off, pointing in the direction of the Beasts classroom.

“No fun, either of you.”

You laughed, waved your goodbyes and made your way upstairs. You were barely a few steps towards the library when a voice made you jump.

“You fancied Sebastian?”

You spun around to see Ominis nearby. Of course, he’d be in the castle. He probably wouldn’t have even gone down to the game, but leave it to him to be right there at exactly the wrong time.

“I…” you started, sighing heavily.

“That was why the two of you argued at The Three Broomsticks?” he guessed.

“No!” you exclaimed. “Not really, no. I mean…”

“You were annoyed about Violet McDowell and Sebastian leaving to go with her,” Ominous stated.

“How were you not?” you shot back, panicking slightly. He was right, of course, but something about Ominis knowing felt dangerous. You could trust Imelda not to say anything to Sebastian no matter how much she threatened to, but you couldn’t say the same of Ominis.

“Why didn’t you just tell him how you felt instead of arguing?”

“It’s not that easy, Ominis,” you sighed. “I really don’t want to talk about this. Not with you, no offense. But not anyone else either. Can you just…please don’t say anything about it.”

Ominis shrugged, and you knew that was the closest to a commitment that you’d get. “Does that mean you spend time with me to see him?” he asked quietly.

“No,” you replied quickly. “Merlin’s beard, Ominis. I’m not desperate for his attention like Violet is. We’ve been friends for years.”

“You’ve been friends with Sebastian, and I’ve been friends with Sebastian,” Ominis countered. “I didn’t think we were friends without him until recently.”

“Well, we are,” you stated. “At least I thought we were.”

“So did I,” he said.

“Then there, we’re friends, Ominis. Regardless of whether or not Sebastian is around,” you told him.

“Isn’t this the type of thing friends talk about?”

“I don’t know! Not always. It’s not like you go around telling me who you fancy,” you pointed out. He chuckled.

“I suppose not,” he agreed, nodding.

“Now, can we please never speak about this again?” you pleaded. “I get enough from Imelda and Poppy just found out and now I know I’m never going to hear the end of it. I just want one friend who doesn’t care about my love life.”

“I promise, we won’t speak of your love life.”

“Thank you, Ominis. I really appreciate it,” you told him, breathing a sigh of relief.

When the two of you parted ways a little while later, you certainly felt better about the fact that Ominis knew. You still couldn’t say for certain if he’d tell Sebastian or not. Their friendship was much longer than yours, but you at least hoped he’d take your desire to leave it alone into consideration.

The rest of the night was dedicated to you trying to forget about the last few hours and actually trying to get your homework done. The number of people in the common room was keeping you more on task for once. If you looked busy enough, everyone would leave you alone, and you didn’t have to speak to anyone. A few people stopped to say hi, but the fact you weren’t willing to more than glance up to greet them kept you in a mostly solitary corner.

Just when the common room was starting to clear out, and you were just about finished with your Charms work, when Poppy came through the entrance. You looked up when she called your name, holding your quill over the parchment.

“There you are!” Poppy sighed, pointing towards the door. “Sebastian’s waiting out there for you.”

“Sebastian is waiting for me,” you repeated, letting the ink drip onto your essay.

“He is,” she confirmed. “He tried to follow me in. I had to promise to come get you.”

“I really don’t want to talk to him right now, Poppy,” you half-whined. You had already had enough uncomfortable conversations about your feelings for one day, and something told you Sebastian wasn’t there to rehash the Quidditch match. Just when you had just about convinced yourself that Ominis was going to keep your conversation between you, Sebastian was attempting to break into the Hufflepuff Common Room.

“He really wants to talk to you,” she said, shifting on her feet.

“Fine,” you sighed, knowing that Poppy wasn’t going to tell him to go away. “He made you promise to get me to come out, didn’t he?” Poppy nodded, and you rolled your eyes, dropping his quill down. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“I’m sorry,” Poppy said quietly, and you offered her a tired smile.

“It’s not your fault,” you assured her. “I’m annoyed with him, not you. Can you take my stuff upstairs? Just leave it on my bed. Please?”

“Sure,” she said, looking relieved that you weren’t upset with her.

“Thanks, you’re the best,” you told her. You took a deep breath before heading for the door. You tried to mentally prepare for what was about to happen. Part of you wondered why Sebastian wanted to talk to you. Maybe make it perfectly clear that the only person he had feelings for was Violet or something.

When you stepped out into the hallway, it was to the sight of Sebastian pacing back and forth. He paused when you closed the door behind you. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, running his hand through his hair before sighing heavily.

“Sebastian, what–” you started, crossing your arms.

“I don’t fancy Violet McDowell,” he blurted out.

“What?”

“I don’t fancy her. That’s what you thought, isn’t it?”

“I can’t believe that Ominis told you,” you sighed, rubbing your face. The squirming you felt in the pit of your stomach was back.

“You talked to Ominis about this?” Sebastian asked, giving you a surprised look.

“Didn’t you?” you responded, staring back at him.

“No,” he said slowly. “He wasn’t in the common room when we got back from the match. I thought he was with you until he came back.”

“Then Imelda told you I fancy you,” you guessed. There was no other way he could have found out.

“Imelda knew…what am I talking about, of course, you talk to Imelda about this kind of thing,” Sebastian chuckled, running his hand through his hair again. “No, Imelda didn’t tell me either.”

“Then who told you?” you asked, the squirming getting worse. Sebastian looked at you, a satisfied look and a crooked smile on his face.

“You did,” he replied. “Just now.”

“What?”

“You just said you fancied me,” Sebastian said, amusement written all over his face. “I wanted to be the one to say it first, but you couldn’t let me.”

“I…what?” you muttered, voice quiet. The words were hitting your ears, but they weren’t making sense to your brain. You stared at him for a long moment, mouth still slightly open as he still had the same look on his face as he watched you process what he had a few moments before.

“You don’t fancy Violet,” you said slowly.

“I don’t,” Sebastian confirmed, chuckling. “I fancy you and you fancy me.”

“You do?”

“Course I do,” he replied, faltering for a moment before pulling you into a hug. The last time the two of you had hugged was to say goodbye at the end of last year, and you hadn’t been much shorter than he was. Now, though, he could easily tuck you under his chin. You managed to uncross your arms and wrap them around him, and he pulled you in closer. As small as he had made you feel at The Three Broomsticks, you were even smaller actually in his arms and you had to admit, it felt kind of nice.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian told you. “About the whole…” he trailed off, sighing. “Fight? That was a fight, I think.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you chuckled, squeezing him before leaning back to look at him properly. “It was about something that didn’t actually happen.” You smiled up at him to show it was all water under the bridge and he smiled back, wider than ever. It wasn’t totally clear which of you made the first move, but then you were kissing and the feeling in your stomach was replaced with the butterflies that you’d felt for the last two years.

When the two of you broke apart, neither of you seemed particularly interested in letting go of each other. The thing that forced the two of you apart was the approaching footsteps of another Hufflepuff trying to get into the common room. Deciding you two needed somewhere more private, you took his hand and led him down the hallway.

“Where are we going?” Sebastian asked, squeezing your hand. However, he made no effort to let go of it, and instead just laced your fingers together.

“Undercroft,” you informed.

“Great idea,” he said. “Maybe we can talk about the match later.”

“If we have time,” you told him, rolling your eyes. “I think we’ll be a little busy. We have a month or two to catch up on, don’t you think?” He laughed, tugging you closer, and pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you walked.

“Definitely,” he agreed. The two of you were all smiles as you walked down the halls, and you were just glad the two of you were on the same page again. It was even better that the page you were on was one where you were the two of you were planning on spending significantly more alone time together from now on.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #f: hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x f!mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy

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marigold-hills · 3 months

Note

Oh I am so jumping in here.

Can you give us a dreamy summer wolfstar first kiss/get together, but put it in YOUR nostalgic summer. Like whatever that means for you. Where are they? What are they eating/drinking? What is the air like? The lighting? The smells and sounds?

I humbly bow before your altar take my compliments on your prose and pacing and metaphors as my offering 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Hey! Loved this ask. It completely run away from me. Hope you enjoy it! (Also you said altar and offering and well. Those words clearly stayed with me.)

It’s wine and bread, a fancy cheese selection from Tesco’s. A little plastic pot of olives. No blanket, because they’re not tourists and don’t mind a bit of sand as seasoning.

The storm is coming in.

They can see it, across the vastness of water, darkening the horizon and stretching through the sky like spilled ink.

Recreating exactly how it was the first time, years ago:

Remus had said there’s a storm tonight. We should go and watch it.

On the beach? Sirius had asked, a bit bewildered. The wind was already picking up, and the logistics of sitting out in the open during a downpour didn’t enamour him.

Remus, undeterred, prepared a backpack. I know a place, he said, we’ll be hidden from the rain. Trust me?

And Sirius did: with his life, with his time. Followed him off the main promenade and across the dunes until they reached a hidden spot of sand: a bay, of sorts, with a railway bridge backed into the cliff side. The arches of its support beams only faced open towards the water, secluded otherwise by brick and clay.

“Used to come here with da, when I was a kid,” Remus told him: “there are fossils in the clay if you know where to look. Come out after heavy rain best, maybe we’ll find something tomorrow.”

They set up under one of the arches. Remus built a stone circle at the mouth of it, stacked it with sticks and driftwood he’d collected on their way. Set a crumpled wad of receipts from his pocket on fire and used it as kindling.

“Impressing me with your caveman skills here, Moony.” Sirius had known, of course, that wild streak within Remus, seen it shine through sometimes when he let his guard down, but this was something new. Large hands stoking the flame as it slowly engulfed the given wood, eyes alight with its reflection. Sirius felt a pull at his navel like a fishhook: handle me like this, the pull said.

He’d made a mistake, maybe, following Moony back to his parents’ house for the summer after their graduation. A miscalculation of how much he could stand watching him, in the summer heat, with sea breeze curling his hair.

Red wine, a couple paper cups. Sirius didn’t like it then yet: not like he pretended to, and it was a cheap bottle from the middle shelf. The aftertaste was sharp, it stayed on his tongue and the insides of his cheeks - dry, clinging.

Cheeses Remus had cut into cubes. Pungent Stilton with dark blue veins, Brie, white skin coating the creamy interior, fruity Wensleydale filled with cranberries.

They sat side by side by the fire as the storm hit. The rain a heavy curtain in front of them, the wind making their fire dance erratically. Sirius had never seen it like this, surprised by the intensity of the smell of salt in the air. Despite the cover, a thin mist of spray hit his face when the wind blew just right.

Remus had made him a canapé of sorts, spread a chutney on a finger-torn piece of sourdough and topped it with the Stilton. He ate it in one bite. Asked for another, just like it, the taste round and warming, somehow.

“It’s the chutney,” Remus said. “There’s chilli in it. Try an olive.”

A new thing, this, being presented with food like offerings. Remus watched each bite Sirius took with an intent, as if they were eating something rare and costly. Like this, with the storm above them and the fire in Moony’s eyes, Sirius felt each mouth full was something precious, something to be cherished. A worship, and he wasn’t sure if he was the god being praised or the offering on the altar.

They’d almost finished the bottle when Remus asked want to swim? With such wonderful abandon that Sirius didn’t even hesitate. Yes, he said, and they took off their trousers and shirts and walked hand in hand into the water.

The first crack of thunder rang out when they were knee deep. Remus laughed, free and loud like a curlew, head thrown back into the falling rain. The sky turned white with the lightning and Sirius thought it’s you, that needs to be worshipped.

Moments like this, though, something Sirius didn’t know: it’s too easy, for thoughts to be said aloud.

Remus turned to him like a trap closing. “Is that right?”

“You look like a god of the sea.”

(Another break of thunder, a wave sweeping into them, rough with the storm but soft like a touch.)

Remus took his hand, pulled him further into the water. There were raindrops caught in his eyelashes, and Sirius realised I’m close enough to touch them. He did, shaky fingers, as lighting lit them up. The water made Remus’ curls heavy and darker, sat on his skin in a fine sheen. “I want to lay you out onto the sand,” Sirius thought-said, “trace the path of every raindrop.”

“You’ll be at it for hours.”

“As long as you’ll let me.”

The first time they kissed, Remus tasted like salt.

NOTES:

I feel compelled to point out: everyone. Please don’t drink and swim! Don’t swim in the storm! Especially not in the sea.

I don’t know how I didn’t realise before you’re the person who wrote The Homecoming of Sirius Black??? I LOVED it. Honestly the fact that you enjoy my writing feels like such a massive compliment.

#remus lupin #wolfstar #sirius black #marauders #dead gay wizards #fanfic #remus x sirius #marauders era #microfiction #wolfstar microfic

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lvlyhao · 10 months

Text

『when he's on tour / MARK LEE』

A/N: thoughts on how mark would be as bf when he's away on tour :(

gifs used in this are not mine and they will be removed if requested!!

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮𝓼: fluff (♡), comedy (☼)

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: i swear a bit maybe???

disclaimer: the characters in the story below do not reflect real people or present real facts. this is purely fictional, and you may not copy, change, translate or repost my work in any way. all rights reserved © lvlyhao 2023.

--------

mark is usually pretty clingy with you already, but he turns it up to the max before a tour

being away from you like that is one of the parts about his job he hates the most, and yeah, he knew what he was signing up for since the beginning

but he can’t help but be heartbroken about it every. single. time

the other members know him well enough to give like a 2 weeks notice for him to get his shit together and spend as much time with you as humanly possible??

cus otherwise, he’ll get caught up in rehearsals, schedules and whatever else and then the day before they leave be like

“oh shit”

and if that’s the case we all know mark is gonna be miserable during the whole thing right lmao

yeah mom taeyong isn’t letting that happen

(again)

mark normally sees the time before a tour as an opportunity to check off a LOT of things from your couples bucket list

like, do you have any tv shows you’ve been meaning to watch together? you’re binging it today

you wanted to visit that coffee shop right? get your coat, you’re going rn

you wanted to buy matching bracelets yeah? he’s already got them

and it’s just a very fun, loving time for the both of you

it keeps you busy enough not to spiral about what it’s gonna be like not seeing each other for months

of course, it doesn’t work 100% of the time

especially at night, when mark’s about to fall asleep, the loneliness of not having you around starts to seep in

and it’s like he says goodbye to you in his head before it happens irl

which is 1. sad as heck??? and 2. kinda suffering through it twice, cus he always thinks he’s gonna be more “well prepared” for it this time, and that’s never true

by now it’s probably pretty obvious touring is a very dramatic experience for him right lmao

johnny’s always like “bro it’s just a couple months you’re gonna be f i n e” but for mark it’s,,, not that simple

he’d rather say bye when it’s just the two of you, maybe at your place or somewhere nice

it feels a lot calmer when it’s like that, cus then it’s tight hugs, some kisses and mark saying he promises he’ll text you every day and call you as much as he can

and yeah maybe one of you lets a tear or two fall down but it’s fine

now

if you go with them to the airport

it’s gonna be so much more chaotic like holy crap, trust me, not going is the better option

if for some unknown reason you’re like “no i’ll go with you to catch the plane and we’ll say bye there”

there’s gonna be a lot more crying involved

cus it’s one thing hugging you bye when his flight’s in 6 hours or so, but it’s a whole other thing when everyone’s already boarding and some other member is trying very hard to be gentle but he has to go NOW

it’s all so rushed he can barely even tell you he loves you :(

mainly bc he wanted to keep hugging you until he absolutely had to let you go

oh well

mark is 10000% the type to ask you to put together a playlist for him to listen to during the trip

he can be a bit of an airhead at times but he does his best to keep you updated on how he’s doing, where he is right now, things of the sort

so he tries to text you the moment the plane lands, when they get to the hotel, when he’s eaten

and it’s not even just texts

it’s a cute candid selfie AND a text

now

mark is definitely not the best photographer in nct

but he will try so hard to take good pictures for you

cus all he wants is for you to feel like you’re there with him, seeing all those cool places

having said that, most pictures do turn out to be crappy

but he’s willing to ask for help from another member so it’s all good lmao

(i’m looking at johnny, jaemin or tyong tbh)

sends you a picture of every single dog or cat he sees

absolutely every single one

keeps a clock in your timezone in his phone so he knows the best times to text/call

speaking of calling

i’m sorry to tell you you’re not getting a one on one facetime session with him

it’s just not happening

like it may last 5 minutes tops, but that’s the time it takes for someone to hear your voice/barge into his room and immediately ask to talk to you

haechan, johnny, yukhei and baek do that a lot

but normally the other members follow lmao

it’s 50% to annoy him but 50% bc they genuinely wanna see you

it doesn’t bother you too much cus you know

they’re cute or whatever

he’s not really the type to get small trinkets from every place he goes to bc that’s just ??so much??

instead, he’ll probably get you one really nice gift

like this huge plushie he had to carry around himself on their way back home bc no one had enough space in their bags for it

or a new perfume he thinks you’ll like

i love him your honour

one last thing bc this is already way too long

mark is the KING of backstage pictures and TMI's about the other members

like at this point you have enough blackmail material to torture them for 6 months minimum

and tbh it’s mainly haechan when he’s with dream/127 and jongin with superm lol

but he keeps it varied

you end up with even some derpy jaehyun pics, best case scenario

he’s already making plans on how you are gonna celebrate him being back home

…and it most likely includes building a pillow fort and watching marvel movies but i didn’t tell you that

#nct 127 #nct dream #mark lee #nct mark #nct scenarios #nct reactions #nct angst #nct fluff #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #mark lee fluff #nct fanfic

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mangoisms · 11 months

Text

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter twelve: back to you | read chapter eleven

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 5k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: the final part <3 my end notes if you'd like <3

ten months later

“Hey, you two. Where’s your aunt?”

“Having an existential crisis on the trampoline,” you hear Irey respond matter-of-factly.

“She’s no fun anymore,” Jai adds.

“Well, Bart just got here so—woah!”

Even you can feel the sharp gust of wind the twins create as they zoom off to see their cousin. Bart Allen runs at a million miles per hour—metaphorically and literally, so he and the twins get on like a house on fire.

Good thing everyone turned out for you and Steph’s pre-graduation party, otherwise Wally, Jay, and Max would have their hands full trying to make sure the three of them didn’t bring the house down.

And when you say everyone came, you really mean everyone.

That’s sort of the problem.

Barry Allen and Iris West-Allen were pleasant as always when they arrived—fifteen minutes late, the tardiness Barry is prone to considerably mitigated by his wife’s urging—and gave you big hugs in congratulations when they saw you.

“Well, early congratulations,” Barry amends, smiling.

“I just wish we could be there, too,” Iris says, letting you go.

You wave her off. Barry had a mission with the JL on the day of and Iris’s book tour was just starting, so there was no extra time to spare.

“No, it’s okay. Wally and Linda are already going, so that’s enough.”

“We’ll be there in spirit,” Barry says, grinning as Iris rolls her eyes. “Literally.”

Referring to the speed force and the way it tethers both speedsters and lightning rods. So, yeah, technically.

You chuckle. “Exactly. So, don’t worry.”

“We still wanted to give you our gift in person, though,” Iris says, passing you an envelope.

“You guys really didn’t have to but thank you.”

“‘Course we did,” Barry says. “You’re Wally’s… what is it? Close friend slash little sister slash niece? Us, well, we don’t mind seeing you as a niece.”

“Complicated labels aside,” Iris puts in, “you’re part of this family, too.”

And boy if that wasn’t going to choke you up.

You believe it now, almost a year since Wally revealed his identity; since then, you consider Keystone City and Central City as much of a home as Gotham. It was only inevitable that you met the others and you were lucky enough that they welcomed you with welcome arms.

But the ones part of this family are one and many. Not just the Garricks, not just the Wests, not just the Allens, not just Max Mercury, but—

“Ms. Chambers?”

Jesse Chambers grins at you. “Hey now, none of that. Here, Jesse works just fine. Pleasure to meet you. Everyone has had nothing but excellent things to say about you.”

Okay. Sure.

That bit is just a little obscured by your horrible confusion on how on earth she even knew everyone.

You have an inkling as to the answer but frankly, it feels impossible to believe. Not because you don’t think she is not capable of it but the fact that the whole billionaire-as-a-superhero/vigilante thing isn’t so uncommon as initially thought.

The confusion must be written all over your face. She laughs. Jay is at your side in the next instant, smiling at her in greeting.

“Sorry not to have told you sooner,” he tells you apologetically, though the smile pulling at his lips tells you he isn’t that sorry. “But we wanted to leave the decision up to her. And—”

“If you can keep these guys’ secret,” Jesse says, jerking a thumb to the kitchen, where Wally, Linda, Barry, and Iris are, “you can keep mine, too. Besides, you did great work during your internship. QE has had our eyes on you for a while.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to—”

“We want to,” she says. “We wouldn’t lose anything at all offering you a place with PR. But if you want to go somewhere else, that’s okay. I’d be happy to be a reference if so.”

Somehow, you managed to stammer out a thank you and get out of that situation without making a complete fool of yourself. Wally later told you Jesse taps into the speed force using an equation, which… sure, why not.

Jesse used to not like him, apparently, but recent events have allowed her to warm up to him; plus, the birth of her own son, Johnny Tyler, helped, too, that way Wade could have a friend to grow up with.

While all the others prepare dinner and attempt to keep Bart, Jai, and Irey’s shenanigans contained, you manage to snag a bit of time to yourself, not quite believing you’d just been offered a job by Jesse Chambers herself.

It’s all just… a little bit insane.

Then the twins came out and you indulged them on the trampoline in the backyard of the West house for a bit. Then you thought too hard about everything and sunk right back into your disbelief again.

Which leads to now.

“Speedsters, I swear,” Tim mutters.

You hear the soft sound of footsteps on the grass but make no move to leave from your place — star-fished on the trampoline, eyes closed. Early May in Keystone City is considerably warmer and tepid than Gotham City. You should shed your hoodie but you don’t want to. Mostly because it isn’t yours, exactly.

It’s Tim’s. The one you wore the night you got stabbed last year. Not the same one; that one was ruined beyond repair and anyway, you weren’t too happy to wear that exact one, either, since you nearly bled out in it. But it’s close enough. The same shade of brilliant azure. Big on Tim and baggy on you.

Of course, why should you want a hoodie when your boyfriend is right here?

The faint noise of the flaps of the netting be brushed aside. Then the trampoline itself moves, dipping with his weight as he comes over to you. You slide a bit, elbow bumping into his knee.

“So,” he starts, closer than before, one hand brushing your cheek as he tucks a few pieces of your hair behind your ear. “What’s this about an existential crisis? In the middle of the day?”

“It’s four in the afternoon.”

“Schematics.”

You grunt but don’t respond.

A soft chuckle. “Is this about Jesse Chambers’ offer? It’s too bad, you know.”

“What’s too bad.”

“Well, Wayne Enterprises was looking forward to offering you a position, too. And so were the Titans. And I can’t speak for this one personally but I’m fairly certain the Justice League was planning on sending an offer, too. You’re in high demand.”

You groan. “Isn’t that too much? I’m—I haven’t even graduated. There are so many other people with so much more experience—”

“Well, how are you supposed to get experience, too?” he asks, laughing softly. “Besides, you’re graduating with honors.”

“Oh, yeah, well, I’m sure it helps to have a boyfriend with an in at WE, who also just so happens to be a member of the Titans, on top of multiple people who are close to me that are also part of the Justice League.”

“And Jesse Chambers? Hers is the most reliable in that sense, then, isn’t it? Because she doesn’t personally know you—”

“But she knows Wally.”

“But their relationship isn’t that great. Sure, she’s good with Jay and Max but… You also have the advantage of having worked there briefly. They wouldn’t call you back if they didn’t like what they saw.”

Which is true. Jesse Chambers is a businesswoman. She wouldn’t do this as some pity play.

Then again, neither would the others.

You finally open your eyes, squinting immediately as the sun beams down at you.

Tim shifts, moving until his head can shield you from it, bringing him into your focus.

He’s smiling warmly at you, affection clear in his gaze; the sunlight does wonders for him, for his dark hair and blue eyes.

“This can’t be happening.”

“It is,” he says. “You’re graduating next week Friday. You and Steph. And no matter where you go and what you do, you’re gonna kick ass, you know that, right?”

You groan. “You’re supposed to say things like that.”

“Maybe,” he concedes. “But when I tell you I had nothing to do with the offer from WE, you have to believe me. You know I haven’t worked with them in a long while. That was all them.”

“Bruce?”

“Maybe Bruce.”

But then that’s ‘cause he feels… guilty about cornering you last year. Which serves him right. Your relationship with Tim’s adoptive father is a bit rocky, truth be told. Just because of the things Tim has told you. The things Steph has told you. And last year is certainly a factor. But all the others, you get along with them.

You don’t see Dick too often because he lives in New York but he’s kind. Jason’s cool when you see him. Cass and Duke are great. You hang out with them regularly on your own. Damian is a bit frigid but that’s just because of your choice in company and not anything personal, exactly, but you do get the advantage of also having Steph on your side, since they have a better relationship than he and Tim do. Alfred is pleasant as always, too; sometimes he sends grocery deliveries to you to make sure you’re sustaining on actual food and not just ramen.

Barbara Gordon is also very nice and volunteered to help you put together your resume and cover letters and applications; Jean-Paul Valley is kind, too. They’re both old family friends, you would learn. You have lunch with Helena Bertinelli once a month; you two bond over a mutual dislike for Batman and a mutual fondness for Tim—begrudging on her part sometimes but she undeniably sees him as a little brother and he sees her a big sister. And truthfully, your relationship with her is a bit similar.

You’ve made quite a few relationships with these vigilantes. Connections. So, you shouldn’t be surprised that all of this is happening. But one part of you, the prideful part, doesn’t like it. The other part, the rational one, says it was unavoidable. You were going to apply to QE and WE, anyway. Maybe toss out a few applications to the League and the Titans, too, just for the heck of it. Not expecting anything to come of it. Out of any of it.

But of course something would. You know too many of these people for nothing to happen.

“But then again,” Tim says a moment later. “Bruce is just attached to the company by name.”

“That is not a ‘just’ thing, Tim, that is a very big thing. They’d do whatever he wanted.”

“Not anything. Not if you didn’t have the grades, background, or potential to back it up.”

Also, technically, true.

“But like I said. Jesse’s is the most earnest in that regard.”

“Do you want me to leave Gotham, is that it.”

He laughs. The sound warms you.

“I don’t,” he chuckles. “I really don’t. I’d love for you to go with WE. But I also know that the news of us dating throws a wrench in that.”

Right. Ever since the gossip columns caught you two kissing on a date a couple months ago, they wouldn’t shut up about it. Only after digging their grubby little fingers into every inch of your past, of course, and using that to fuel the flames. Talking about your relationship with him as if you planned it, just trying to get a leg-up in the application process at WE.

But the thing is, objectively speaking, there isn’t anything wrong with that. You aren’t with Tim strictly for that purpose but you knew it would factor in. It’s undeniable, the way all these other offers are undeniable in who and why they came. You can’t help who you’re connected to.

But yeah. It would suck to prove all the tabloids right by accepting a job with WE right after graduation—like all of them said you would.

Of course, they would talk regardless. Even if you went with QE or the Titans or the Justice League. Wayne Enterprises is a known partner with Quickstart Enterprises, as well as a heavy funder for the League and the Titans. So…

You groan, wiggling closer to him by planting your head on his thigh and staring forlornly up at him. “What should I do?”

He smiles. “Whatever you want to, honey.”

“Yeah, that’s not really helpful, Timmy.”

He rolls his eyes fondly, bending down to scoop you into his arms. You let out a squeak as he pulls you into his lap, then you settle comfortably in the circle of his arms, dropping your head on his shoulder.

From here, you can spy the old bullet graze on the side of his neck, silvery and a little textured. Without a second thought, you lean forward to kiss it.

He shivers slightly, arms tightening around you.

You bite down a smile. “Cold?”

“Shut up,” he mutters, fingers digging into your side, making you giggle and try to squirm away from him.

He doesn’t keep up the torment, exhaling a soft laugh, too, as you lay your head back on his shoulder.

A cool breeze sweeps through the backyard. In the suburbs of Keystone City, it is quiet out here. Peaceful. Though you can still hear the others inside. Wally saying something. Steph laughing at it.

You’ve carved out a nice place for yourself here. The West’s and Garrick’s here in Keystone and the Allen’s over in Central.

You close your eyes, basking in Tim’s embrace and his proximity. You haven’t seen him much this month, with you and Steph in the throes of finals. But he promised to come, that he’d ask Bart to take him and his friend happily agreed.

You were surprised to learn of their relationship. That they had known each other. But they had met when they were younger, along with the rest of the original members of Young Justice. Put together because they were superhero kids. The relationship stuck. What a coincidence, that Bart Allen was part of the family you had quickly grown close to. But not unwelcome.

It is a small world, you would think.

Or maybe, when you feel indulgent, meant to be. You and Wally. You and Steph, you and Tim. All of this. Interconnected in ways you could only dream of. You don’t have to sacrifice much to have them together.

Tim squeezes your hip, one hand slipped underneath the hoodie. “What are you thinking about?”

That maybe this decision isn’t as hard as you thought it would be. That it’s not a matter of deliberation, is it?

You know you don’t want to prove all the tabloids right by going with WE immediately. Not to mention, for the longest time, it was a dream to work with them. You want more time, more experience, before you move there.

And you don’t think you are ready to jump head-first into working for the Justice League or the Titans. You need experience for that, too.

So…

“I’m pretty sure I could convince Wally to take me to Gotham to visit. When I start at Quickstart.”

“Not necessary,” he says and you raise an eyebrow, watching him pull back, his gaze warm, not at all surprised by your words. “I could just come and visit you. Unlimited access to the jet and all.”

“Racking up carbon emissions just for me?”

“You know the jet is clean energy,” he says, pouting a bit.

Yes, you do. He talked your ear off about it when they made the switch. But you just like seeing him get pouty about it.

You cup his cheeks, smiling, particularly taken with the way his whole face softens as he looks at you. The knowledge that he’s this soft for you is always so insane to you. Not at all good for your heart.

“I know. It’s still a bit of an expense, though, isn’t it?”

“It’s worth it.”

“Cornball.”

“I’m being serious,” he presses, hands tightening around your waist. “Whatever I have to do, it’s worth it for you.”

You know that. Tim is a devoted boyfriend. He doesn’t do things in halves. When he’s loyal to someone, when he dedicates himself, he does it wholly. You could ask him of anything and he would do whatever it took to get it for you, to do it for you. If you asked him to move with you, you know he would do it.

You also know the thought must’ve crossed his own mind. But he still won’t say anything, not unless he knows you want it, too, and… you do. You think that can wait, though, for a little while longer. Let you get settled in and then you two can discuss that possibility—if he wants to, of course, because while Wally and Linda do like him now, the former would not like having a Bat running underfoot in the city, in either of the cities.

You just aren’t used to that kind of devotion. Even after this long.

You slide your arms around his neck, threading your fingers in his hair. He leans into the touch. “I know.”

“I’ll take Steph when I can, too,” he adds and you smile again.

“I love you.”

He leans forward, forehead brushing yours. Your eyes flutter shut.

He nudges your nose with his, then finally closes the distance between you two.

Cotton-candy sweet warmth unspools in your chest he kisses you, soft and gentle. But it quickly edges into dangerous territory when you nip at his bottom lip and he yanks you closer and closer until there is no space between your bodies. It would be better if you weren’t wearing this hoodie but you make do with what you have, still able to feel most of his chest pressed to yours, hard and sturdy, heat licking up your spine.

Your fingers twine in his hair and he lets out a shuddery breath, the kiss turning open-mouthed in the next second and you can taste the gum he was chewing on earlier.

It’s a shade too hungry for your current location but you can’t help it, he’s just so… beguiling. You’re overwhelmingly attracted to your boyfriend and you think you always will be.

But of course, you still should know better, even with all that.

A sharp gust of wind hits you two in the next second and you both separate immediately, knowing exactly what—or who—it is. But instead of Wally or any other speedster here, a high-pitched giggle makes it to your ears and you both turn, eyebrows raising as you find one and a half year old Wade West now inside the trampoline, net fluttering behind him.

You and Tim turn to look at the back door, which is now open, Wally and Linda standing there; the former looks pleased, while the latter just raises her eyebrows.

“I thought,” he starts, mischief written on his face, “that instead of leaving space for Jesus, you could leave some space for Wade. So. Do that. And please stop desecrating the place my children play.”

“And come inside,” Linda adds. “Food’s almost ready.”

You slide off Tim’s lap, reaching for Wade before he tries to stand and walk over to you, not trusting his balance on the trampoline. Tiny hands grapple with the hoodie strings, tugging.

“Got it. Thanks.”

They both smile pleasantly and turn back inside.

You bite your lip, which already feels swollen from your kissing, and look at Tim. His face is flushed with red, lips swollen, too. A tempting sight.

He catches the look on your face. “Don’t.”

“It’s my graduation party.”

“It’s yours and Steph’s. Later.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Well, you love me, so what does that say about you?”

“That you’ve seduced me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, I’ve seduced you, okay, sure—” he looks at Wade, shaking his head “—can you believe this?”

All Wade can do is giggle in response. All you can do is smile at him, so painfully in love.

He smiles back, rising up on his knees and leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

“I love you, too, you know.”

Yeah, you do know.

four years later

“Goddamit, where is it?”

Fish, a miniature Italian Greyhound you rescued from the shelter, offers no answer or help for your plight. Instead, she just sits near you, happy to follow you around as you search, watching you with big eyes. Big, empty eyes. Absolutely nothing goes on in her little head and you and Tim love her very much for it but damn if you wouldn’t appreciate a little help in finding the security badge that seems to have mysteriously disappeared.

It’s perfect timing, too. That badge is your lifeline. That’s what your supervisor, Meena, said anyway, a couple days ago when you went in for it and had a chance to speak with her before starting work. You can’t get into the tower without it. You can’t do anything without it and guest badges do not have the same amount of clearance that you have.

You stop in the living room, taking a breath, frustration starting to make you hot, which would be the icing on the cake, if you managed to sweat through your clothes before you even started work.

Sighing, you look at her. “Do you know where it is?”

A sound behind you.

“You should know better than that, honey,” comes the sleepy voice of your boyfriend, and you turn. “Fish is lucky to have a single coherent thought once a week and she wasted that one yesterday when she managed to give Damian the high five he asked for.”

You chuckle despite yourself, remembering the pleased gleam that had come into Damian’s hazel green eyes when Fish successfully completed the trick. Only after six months of painstaking work, of course, but it hardly deters him. Titus passed away not too long ago and he’s fixated on Fish because of it. Even if he says her name is ‘completely idiotic.’

Brushing away those thoughts, you focus on Tim, still sleepy-eyed and rumpled. Then you see it—in his hand is your security badge, your picture smiling up at you, with your name beneath it.

“Oh my god, where—”

“You gave it to me, remember?” he asks, laughing softly as you pad over to him. “And said to keep it with my gear, that way it wouldn’t get lost between then and now.”

True. All true. After all, that gear—that is, his suit and tech—doesn’t get brought out other than for the occasional mission with the Titans, so, say, every six months or so. Other than that, it remains hidden in a panel behind your side in the walk-in closet, accessible only by him and you through fingerprint and retinal scans.

Easiest way not to get lost, especially since you’ve been particularly harried in the lead-up to the official start of your job at Wayne Enterprises as their spokesperson.

“Sorry,” you sigh. “Is that why you’re up? Because I told you, you don’t need to wake up for this, you can stay in bed…”

He raises an eyebrow. “And let you freak out for the next hour and a half before you have to leave?”

“Um. Yes?”

A soft smile. He reaches for you, hands settling on your arms, rubbing small circles there.

“Well, you’re wrong. It’s your first day at WE.”

“I know, but you didn’t have to get up now at least…”

The original idea when you decided to wake up at five-fifteen is that one, it would give you ample time to get ready—both yourself and your belongings—and two, it would let you try to relax.

Key word being try.

It’s now six, you’re supposed to leave in an hour and fifteen minutes to beat the morning rush traffic, and your nerves are none the better for it.

Your sleep was fitful, too, in anticipation of today, so you’re starting to feel sleepiness creep in at the edges; the fact that the sun has not yet risen and won’t rise for a while—cursed winter months and their late sunrises—does not help.

He eyes you. “I think I do.”

You groan, dropping your forehead on his shoulder. “I can’t do this.”

He squeezes your arms. “Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t. They’re going to eat me alive.”

If not for being the new girl, then certainly because your boyfriend was, actually, once major shareholder of the company when he was seventeen and no, it doesn’t matter that he was just a figurehead and Lucius was actually pulling the strings—it still happened and Tim worked closely with the company for several years after. And then, of course, it will also be because your boyfriend is the adoptive son of the man who owns the actual company.

Even if you waited before joining, even if you actually applied for the position! Yes, applied! Contrary to what a few tabloids are saying right now, you did not go up to Tim (or Bruce, depending on which gossip column you’re reading) and demand the job. You went through the same channels as absolutely anyone else would.

Tim ducks his head to press a kiss to your neck. You can’t help your shiver and you know he feels it by the way he smiles against your skin. “No, they won’t. That’s my job. They can’t take that away from me.”

“Now is so not the time—”

He laughs, pulling away; you do the same to look at him.

“You’re going to be fine, gorgeous. You had Linda and Iris regularly pressing you these last few weeks and you did very well with them. Not to mention your last two jobs…”

You purse your lips.

“Two years with Quickstart Enterprises,” he lists. “Two more with the Justice League. Still bitter you picked them over the Titans, by the way.”

“They were more hardcore. Sorry.”

“Well, see? You and the rest of the team had to salvage the League’s image after each alien invasion or otherwise massive destruction committed during a mission and you guys did it. I mean, the publicity campaign you came up with was brilliant, you know that, right? Support was the highest it’s ever been while you were there.”

Right… In an effort to better the League’s image with the public after a particularly nasty fight that left multiple city blocks destroyed and more questions about the relevancy of the team, you decided the more prominent League members needed to create more solid images for themselves, that way each time the public or news saw them, it wasn’t always about the latest incident that brought their presence in. To do this, they needed to pick something to sponsor or support and start showing for it. Superman took an interest in accessibility to education, Wonder Woman focused on preserving wildlife and ecosystems, along with world landmarks, and Batman—with immense detail and planning to abide by his stiff rule not to be seen before the masses—focused on rehabilitation programs.

It brought in a lot of good coverage as more Leaguers agreed to do it and it did help. Helped a lot. Not to say those in the League were not helping, of course, either suited up in their own cities or with their public personas, but that was the issue. The League was capable of much more destruction collectively than individually and the public didn’t know that Batman was funding hundreds of programs to help impoverished communities in Gotham, mostly because he did that as Bruce Wayne and that connection would never be made known.

But that was the job. And you did it. Excellently. You would’ve stayed on for a little while longer but then you got kidnapped towards the end and that just wasn’t fun.

(Fortunately, however, there was a clause in your signing contract that states that in the event of a kidnapping, the League is obligated to rescue you.

Fair is fair, you think, for helping maintain their image and ensure that the UN doesn’t pull the plug and that the public doesn’t completely despise them.)

And of course, if you managed to survive working with the League and being kidnapped because of that work, then you should be entirely prepared to take on Wayne Enterprises. It should be chump change, if anything, but again, you go in with preconceived notions about yourself and your reputation. Not so great.

But would you back out?

No way.

“I believe in you,” he murmurs, his gaze warm and reassuring. “All of us do. You know Steph does.”

A pause, everything falling silent, save for the snores coming from the guest bedroom, where Steph is asleep.

“I’m not missing your first day at WE,” she had said the night before. “So, you better wake me up before you leave.”

He grins a bit teasingly at a particularly loud snore. “Like a train, right?”

“Like you’re any better.”

“I am not that loud.”

“What is it with me and attracting people who snore?”

Honestly.

“Speaking of, you know Wally and Linda believe in you. You can do this. It’s just ‘cause it’s the first day. Get through it and everything will be better.”

Which is true. You know that. Have been repeating that in your head as today approached and your nerves grew in intensity.

But everything is easier in theory than in practice.

“I know,” you whisper, closing your eyes. “I know.”

You can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks next. “That’s why I’m here. Why we’re all here.”

“To knock some sense into me?”

“To do that gently,” he chuckles.

“I don’t know. I might need the force.”

“Well, I can call Damian if you want.”

“I don’t need that much force… on a scale, maybe something like Linda.”

“It’s good thing she and Wally are going to be here soon for breakfast, then.”

For the same reason Steph spent the night and Tim dragged himself out of bed—for your first day of work.

For you.

You pull him into a hug, overwhelmed at the thought and not at all caring about wrinkling your clothes. You can fix that. But this… this needs to be made known.

“I love you.”

He squeezes you—gently, trying to mitigate any wrinkles, and the thought makes your heart swell with unbridled love—and kisses your temple.

“I love you. We all do.”

And isn’t that something?

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marvel-ous-m · 4 months

Text

Time Will Tell

WC: 3260 | Rating: Teen and Up | Tags: Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, The Unrelenting Anxiety of Gift-Giving | AO3 Link

Summary: It's Eddie's 21st Birthday, and Steve's not sure what gift he should get him, what would show the man how much he loves him, how glad he is that they've been able to share the last six months together. That indecisiveness is made worse by the fact he's known since he was six: people are never honest about whether or not they actually appreciate the gift they've been given- and Steve can't stand the idea of Eddie not liking the gift but pretending for Steve's sake. Steve ends up choosing a gift that he knows Eddie won't like in an effort to save everyone pain. That decision sparks a much-needed conversation, and helps Steve understand that his parent's relationship really isn't the blueprint.

Fic Below the Cut!

“-An emerald, I mean, really, could that man at least try to act like he knows me?”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together in confusion at his mother’s exclamation, and he tilted his head. His eyes remained trained on his feet, wrapped in small leather loafers that hung off the side of his parent’s bed. “But Mama, I thought you said you loved it earlier? That it was pretty?”

His mother gave a great, put-upon sigh and turned to face where Steve was seated on the bed. “You’ll understand when you’re older, baby.” Her arms stretched awkwardly around her neck while she spoke, her hands struggling with the clasp of the necklace Steve’s father had presented to her that morning, a gift for her birthday.

Steve huffed in annoyance and crossed his arms. “But wanna und’stand now.”

“You’re a big boy now, Steven. You’re six, enunciate your words, and don’t whine.” Her reprimand came stern, and was juxtaposed by the soft “Aha!” moments later, when the clasp of the necklace finally closed. She turned back towards the vanity and rested her precisely manicured hands over the pendant, a gleaming emerald wrapped in gold, then smiled sadly at herself in the mirror.

“Gifts are rarely about what you actually want, Steven. More often than not, they’re about the monetary value, or meeting a need, or subtly showing the recipient that you have the upper hand. They’re… strategic. I needed a new piece of jewelry for the party tonight, your father delivered- even though the gem he gave me clashes with my eyes, and my skin tone is more complemented by platinum than gold. He gave me this necklace because it makes him look good. It would’ve been nice if he put thought into it- but, well, it would be rude not to be grateful.”

“But… Mama, couldn’t Daddy do both? Get you something you need, and make it something you like?”

His mother’s smile wavered and her eyes softened from where they were now gazing at Steve through his reflection in the vanity mirror. “He could, yes, but it’s like you said- I told him I loved it. As far as your father is concerned, he’s done exactly that- gotten me something I like and need. I’m not going to tell him otherwise. Does that make sense?”

No. In Steve’s six-year-old brain, it really, really didn’t. “I guess so.”

His mother nodded at him from the mirror, then began to put on her earrings. “Good. Now, do you remember what to say when one of your father’s coworkers asks you what you want to be when you grow up?”

This was something that Steve could understand, a response his mother had been teaching him for the last few weeks. Steve beamed. “I want to be an attorney like my Daddy!”

“Good job, baby. Now, go and brush your teeth- we’ll be leaving in a few minutes. It’s your first time joining us at dinner, I want to make sure you’re absolutely perfect.”

“Okay Mama!” Steve scooted off the edge of the bed and toddled towards his parent’s bedroom door, being careful to walk with flat feet so he wouldn’t crease the leather of his loafers, just how his Mama taught him.

“Oh, and Stevie? Don’t tell your father how I feel about the necklace, okay? That’s a just for us conversation.”

Steve nodded, familiar with the concept of keeping certain conversations he had with his mother or father a secret from the other. “Alright, Mama.”

Eddie didn’t like his gift, and Steve knew that. Had prepared for that exact outcome, in fact.

He wasn’t sure what would be good enough to get Eddie for his birthday. They’d been dating for almost six months already, had been flirting around each other for even longer, and Steve was at a loss.

What do you get for the person who you fought hell with? For the person who beat the odds and lived despite everything, for the person you’ve seen at their lowest- the person who saw you at your lowest? What item could possibly express how much Steve adores Eddie, could say how happy he is that Eddie even made it to his 21st birthday after everything that happened? What could serve as a physical testament to the truth of all of their ‘I love you’s and all of the ‘I’m so glad you’re here’s?

Steve got Eddie a watch.

It was the backup gift of the backup gift of the backup gift. A decision made entirely out of cowardice, his mother’s words ringing in his ear.

He had wanted to get Eddie a new battle vest initially- then decided against it, because he was worried it would serve as too much of a reminder of what had happened last Spring.

He’d thought about a guitar case next, an idea that sprung up when he was walking by the music shop downtown. He literally face-palmed moments later, gaining a strange look from a passerby, when he realized that Eddie’s guitar had been left in the Upside Down, that he still didn’t have a new electric guitar, and he already had a case for his acoustic.

Naturally, a new guitar came to mind as a gift idea next, but he nixed that immediately too. The whole reason Eddie hadn’t bought a new guitar yet was because he was very particular about the instrument- and Steve had no idea about all of the different things to consider in guitar buying, so he’d probably just fuck it up. He considered some other stuff, too- new materials to play D&D, concert tickets- but his mind just kept screaming at him, telling him that he didn’t know Eddie well enough to give him any of those gifts.

Really, all he could think about was how badly he would fuck up giving Eddie any meaningful gift- how he’d probably never know if Eddie didn’t like it, because people always pretended that they liked a gift even if they didn’t, so it was basically impossible to tell whether something was actually appreciated.

At the end of the day, it was just easier to abide by the words his mother told him at six and get something that would look nice. Steve wouldn’t be putting his emotions on the line by getting a risky gift, something that Eddie would either love more than anything or absolutely despise.

It was a gift that didn’t match Eddie’s personality at all, and Steve knew that. Eddie was always running late to things, but that’s just how he was. It was endearing, a trait that was lovable, not something to be fixed by having a watch on his wrist.

Steve had, in fact, only realized the negative connotation of the gift after he’d decided to buy it, but it was too late to decide on something else, so he tried to ignore the way his stomach hurt throughout the process of purchasing the thing, and hoped for the best.

Eddie didn’t care about showings of wealth either, so it was pretty pointless for Steve to get him such a nice watch. It wasn’t, like, a Rolex, but he had to save up a bit to buy it. It was made up of dark gray metal with a black leather band, a decision that was made out of Steve trying his best to at least make the gift something that wouldn’t clash with Eddie’s usual attire.

He put a bow on the box it came in and added it to the pile of gifts at Eddie’s birthday party. He tried to stop himself from looking at Eddie when he was going through the process of opening presents, ignored the way his hackles rose when Eddie opened up the watch and gave a tight smile, then a forced-out “Thanks” to Steve, and moved on to opening the next gift wordlessly.

Every other gift elicited a dramatic response from Eddie- a drawing from Will, new dice and minifigures from the kids, a mixtape from Robin, some sci-fi books from Nancy, homemade brownies (yes, *those* brownies) from Jon and Argyle-

And Steve got Eddie a watch.

The rest of the guests to Eddie’s birthday party slowly filtered out of the trailer after all the presents were opened, that having been the close of the party’s festivities. Steve stuck around, cleaning up the trash and dirty dishes strewn around the surrounding area.

Steve and Eddie danced around each other wordlessly- Steve cleaning up while Eddie moved the various gifts from the living room to his bedroom. When all of the leftover paper plates, napkins, and cups were thrown away, and Steve couldn’t find any other dishes to wash in the kitchen, he returned to the living room.

Eddie was seated on the couch by that point, and the watch- in its box, the lid propped open to display the thing- was resting on the coffee table in front of him. “Are you mad at me, Steve? Because, if you are, we could’ve just- I don’t know, talked, instead of you embarrassing me in front of all of our friends on my birthday.”

Steve felt the familiar burn of tears and ducked his head so that Eddie wouldn’t see how his words had affected him.

Eddie wasn’t following the script.

The script which said, no matter what, just pretend to like the present so you don’t appear ungrateful. The script that Steve had been raised on, the script that taught him how to play his part. The script that had motivated him to get the gift in the first place.

“I didn’t mean to be late to Party movie night last week, or to our date three weeks ago, it’s just hard for me to realize what time it is when I’m stuck in my head about something. I didn’t realize that it was bothering you so much- you could’ve told me, y’know? I just feel like shit now, and I’m not even angry- not at you, I’m mad at myself and I’m upset that you didn’t just tell me, and-”

“-I’m sorry.” Steve’s apology came whispered, barely audible due to his head still hanging, staring down at his feet.

His feet, which were wrapped in white, scuffed tennis shoes.

A far cry from the loafers he’d worn at six.

Steve wrapped his arms around himself and focused on taking measured breaths.

He was so clearly detached from the life of his parents, from the unhealthy ideology that stemmed from having too much money and being in a practical relationship rather than one that was built on love.

His relationship with Eddie couldn’t be more different, yet he’d slipped back into that familiar, thinly-veiled selfishness the second he felt anxiety over getting Eddie the wrong thing. Eddie had always been honest with him, so how could Steve ever think that he’d pull the same passive-aggressive misrepresentation of love that his mother so often portrayed to his father?

“Steve?”

It seemed Eddie had crossed the room while Steve had been distracted by his own thoughts, seeing as the man was now cupping Steve’s jaw with his hand, a concerned look in his eyes. “Where’d you go, sweetheart?”

“S-sorry. I’m sorry, I just- I don’t think I’m good at it.” Steve’s words came quicker than his thoughts, and his breath hitched as he spoke due to his steady crying.

“Good at what, Stevie?”

“Gifts.”

Eddie hummed under his breath, his thumb gently swiping against Steve’s cheekbone in an effort to wipe away his tears. “Care to expand on that, baby? Because the Stevie I know just gave Robin a weekend trip to Chicago for her birthday a month ago, and it made her cry so hard she almost threw up.”

“It’s different.”

“What’s different?”

“We-we’re together, and- shit, Eds, I had a ton of ideas of things I thought you’d like, but I just kept thinking I’d get it wrong, but you wouldn’t- look, you love me too, right?”

Eddie huffed out a soft breath of confusion, and his other hand moved to rest on the small of Steve’s back, pulling him into a hug. “Of course I love you, I tell you everyday”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve’s voice was near pleading, wobbling with renewed emotion while fresh tears slipped down his cheeks. “So even if I got you the wrong thing, I’d never know that, and then I’d just keep fucking up, and next thing you know, we’d resent each other and disguise that hatred in things that are supposed to be displays of love, like gifts, and we’d end up like my parents, and I can’t do that to you, you never deserve to feel that way-”

“Hold on- sorry to cut you off, sweetheart, but I feel like I got a little lost there. C’mon, let’s sit.” Eddie wrapped his hand around Steve’s and tugged him towards the couch, then gently shoved Steve onto a cushion and curled up next to him, keeping their hands linked. “Okay, I have three questions. One, why do you think you’d get me the ‘wrong thing’; two, why wouldn’t you know if I didn’t like something; and three, if I love you so much- which you know I do, why do you think we’d end up like your parents?”

Steve sniffed, scrubbing his eyes with the palm of his free hand to try and wipe the tears away. “It’s- okay, so, I wanted to get you a new vest, right? But that would just be a reminder of what happened back in the Upside Down, and then I wanted to get you a guitar case, but that wouldn’t work for obvious reasons- then I thought of a new guitar, but I’d definitely fuck that up because I don’t know the first thing about guitars. I thought about some other stuff, like for D&D or whatever, but I didn’t think that would be enough- and I just kept psyching myself out, right? Because my whole childhood, my dad got my mom these gifts, but they weren’t things she actually wanted, and all I could think about is how I could accidentally do that for you.

“My mom, she always told him how happy she was, then would turn around and tell me or her friends how much she hated the thing and- I couldn’t stomach the idea of that happening, of not knowing that I upset you, so I just- I defaulted to something that would look nice, right? A strategic gift, rather than something special. I honestly didn’t even think about you being late to things until after I decided to buy it, and then I hated that I’d made that decision, because I don’t think you being late to stuff is something that needs to change, I actually kinda love it about you because it means that you were so wrapped up in something else, something you love.

“Anyways- I just went through with it, bought the thing because I didn’t know what else to do, because knowing that you wouldn’t like it honestly made it easier than getting my hopes up about you liking something and then always questioning whether you actually liked it because people never really say what they think, but then you just came out and said what you thought about the frankly shit gift I got you, and I can’t believe it took that to make me realize how fuckin’ stupid I was being by just falling back into the toxic shit my parents taught me growing up. I’m so sorry, Eds. You didn’t deserve that. We’re obviously not going to end up like my parents, stuck together and hating each other- but sometimes, when I navigate us, I can’t help but go back to them, because they were my blueprint. Does that make sense?”

Eddie’s hold on his hand hadn’t waned throughout Steve’s rambling explanation, and only grew tighter, more supportive, at the close of Steve’s question. “Yeah, sweetheart, that makes sense. I hate that you found yourself going down that line of thinking, but I understand that that’s where you’d go if your parents created that atmosphere for you.”

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, Steve’s attention having turned towards the rings on Eddie’s hand that was tangled with his own, while Eddie used his other hand to gently card through Steve’s hair. Steve’s tears had slowed throughout his expounding and had become the occasional sniffle, joined by a shuddering breath.

Eddie eventually broke their silence, his voice soft and his tone careful. “For what it’s worth, I can tell you put a lot of thought into it. Even if it’s not really something I was hoping for, you chose a gift that would go with my outfits, chose my favorite colors. I can tell how much it mattered to you to get something I’d like, even if you defaulted to making it something that you knew wouldn’t mean, y’know, the world to me.”

Steve huffed, shifting so that he could burrow his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck. “You don’t have to try and make it not shitty, Eds, I know it sucks. I knew that going in.”

“I’m being honest, I still appreciate the good intentions behind it.”

“I’m sorry that it made you feel so shitty- sorry that now you have to deal with all this on top of it, on your fucking birthday-”

“Stevie, baby, it’s okay. Being with you- that alone means the world to me. You could’ve gotten me nothing and I would’ve been grateful to be with you, because in my opinion, you are the greatest gift I’ve ever received. As for working through childhood shit on my birthday, that’s not, like, a chore for me. I’m happy to be here, to talk about these things with you, because I love you, and that’s part of our love. Okay?”

Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple, and Steve melted underneath him, letting out a soft sigh. “Yeah, okay.”

Steve shifted closer and kissed the dip of Eddie’s shoulder, then wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist to pull the man closer. “I still wanna do something to apologize, something to celebrate you rather than make us fight.”

“You didn’t make us fight, baby. I was just confused. We talked, we figured stuff out, we’re holding each other, everything is good. You don’t have to make it up to me, because there’s nothing to make up.”

Steve hummed against Eddie’s neck, his hand moving up to brush through his curls. “I don’t have to, but I still want to. Maybe not tonight, because I kinda think we should just cuddle and eat leftover cake and watch a movie, but tomorrow I wanna take you out, just drive for a few hours, we can find a place to grab some food together. After that, maybe we can come back here, hold each other a while. We can do that thing you like so much with your belt and my hands…” Steve trailed off, his tone lilting into something flirtatious.

Eddie gave a giddy chuckle in response, flicking Steve’s bicep playfully. “Yeah, alright loverboy. As long as you’re feeling up for it, and not doing it because you feel like you have to do it- I think that I would love that.”

“Then consider it done.” Steve sat back slightly to press a kiss to Eddie’s lips, then returned to his spot against Eddie’s shoulder.

“Sounds like an outstanding gift. I’ll be counting down the seconds ‘til then, sweetheart.”

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #em writes #steddie fic #steddie established relationship #steddie hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

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