#he's got such a gorgeous coat of fur but no one will ever be able to tell cause he's constantly shaving his hair into that stupid Mohawk

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Round 2 Group D Match 6

expand for propaganda! (major wall of text warning)

Henry Rollins:

"Honestly, Johnny Mnemonic Henry with the glasses and the lab coat was pretty hot"

"A wonderful physical specimen. Plus he’s really funny and weird….best hot ones interview of all time."

"I want him to run me over with a bus"

Stephen Malkmus:

"i can't even stand stephen malkmus but there's a very special girl out there who needs this win"

"My perpetually stoned, nonsensical girlfriend...if we don't invent the time machine soon I might die. He's like 6 ft tall so unfortunately I'd be like one of those birds that ride on giraffes and eat bugs out of their fur. And then I'd die in a weed accident during the recording of Wowee Zowee? Before that though I'd spend 25 hrs a day in bed with him. Alright thanks"

"Stephen Malkmus chronically addicted to moaning and gasping in Pavement songs like he’s getting the best dicking down of his life in the back of the tour bus while everyone else is asleep"

"This is the indie-label match, right? Then it has to be Malkmus, he *made* the scene. And he's still releasing excellent music today. He's just the most influential rockstar of the 90s."

"my gay pavement fan uncle gets out of prison tonight and he knows you ratted him out in '06. the only way to make this right is to vote for stephen"

"Pretty please vote for him, my friend loves him and he really wants him to win"

""There were times he refused to speak to his bandmates, pulling a jacket over his head and referring to himself as "the little bitch"." I have also heard him refer to himself as a brat, a queen, a primadonna, a sociopath, and a narcissist. All of these descriptors have made me want to slam him against a wall and turn his neck fun new colors."

"I mean, Pavement is THEE indie band of the 90s. The lowkey snark, Koreaaaa, so much style that it's wasted. And Malkmus is an understated cool rockstar: the hair, the face, Silver Jews! He never ever sold out. He's the 90s."

"the most beautiful man ever he looks like a gorgeous fairytale prince. he has been hot since he emerged on the scene and continues to be so as their reunion tour comes to a close. stephen forever"

"we have to consider the autism swagger. find me a pavement write up that doesn’t spend three paragraphs waxing lyrical on his inability to make eye contact. find me a YouTube comment section that doesn’t have hoards of moms swooning over his flat affect. his refusal to wear anything more formal than a flannel for the first decade of his career? genuinely culturally influential. 30 glorious years of expressionless performances. sunglasses in the dark. so many straight men falling over themselves for him they made a joke about it in the Barbie movie. raw tbh sex appeal. and he’s got a great nose"

"he had a couple of unfortunate haircuts during this period but highkey i would break both of my arms to just be able to make out with him. please vote for SM my life is in danger if you don't"

[bones4thecats]

NRC teachers as parents to teen!mc

A/N: I made this more the NRC teachers as parents, but I did mention a few teen-related things inside of them, hope that's okay! Apologies for not getting this out any sooner, Anon! I do hope this is up to your standards though. Since I haven't really written these guys before, I hope this isn't too OOC! Enjoy!

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🪶 He never really did care for younger teens, despite how 'generous' and 'kind' he swayed himself to act and seem like, they just differed with him too much.

🪶 It takes a fairly long while before this crow is able to trust another being with any information, unless that being was something of usage to him, like you were.

🪶 At first, Crowley just wanted you to help him out with 'a few' things, but after each and every trial he handed you, you just got back up and took on even more responsibilities.

🪶 When he eventually trusts you, he adores it when you call him 'father' or anything relating to that.

🪶 If you could somehow use any kind of magic, he would teach you specific spells, if not, then he would just help you in certain subjects that he is quite knowledge in, like history of magic, practical magic, etc.

🪶 Crowley is a decent father figure, and a, equally decent real father, he can just get caught up in so much, so it's best to reel him in at certain points

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🐾 Crewel is... how do I say this without sounding fairly rude?

🐾 He's the kind of dad that would be super protective and would definitely attempt in separating you from those he deems as 'bad influences to his puppy'

🐾 He's a difficult person to work with at times, and he'd be the second to admit it (being Trein of course)

🐾 Divus would obviously get you the most elegant coats and clothes he can find, from boots to the most gorgeous looking fur coats you'll ever see in Twisted Wonderland!

🐾 Normally, Crewel wouldn't bring his dogs (I hc him with having two) to the college, as they don't get along with Trein's cat, Lucius, very well, but when they did come by one day and he saw you interact with the two pups, he just smiled and chuckled at the antics you three were getting into

🐾 He may not be the best dad when it comes to emotions, but he definitely is good when it comes to listening, and asking him to get you things that may seem embarrassing to other fathers (like pads if you're a female)

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🏆 This guy is the typical 'sports dad' that is seen in a lot, and I mean a lot of media

🏆 If you were to ever do any kind of sports, he would fully support you and would definitely be the kind of dad to have you skip your own practices, and have you do them with him

🏆 Vargas is a hot-blooded person by heart, so if you are his biological child, you would obviously inherit that from him, which would be a nightmare for the rest of his fellow staff members whenever you visited him

🏆 For some reason, I can see him doing the same as his Disney counterpart by eating a ton of eggs and such, and because he cares about physical fitness, he'd have you do it (as long as you weren't like allergic or something, he isn't that bad of a person)

🏆 If you were to be adopted by this coach, you'd be in-I'd say the 4th best hands on this list, which I'll get into more at the bottom!

🏆 He obviously cares about you, but his emotional range is fairly small, so bear with him whenever he seems upset when you make a mistake. It's his 'resting face'

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🐈��⬛ Trein is the best hands you can be in when it comes to being the 'child of' in any of these scenarios

🐈‍⬛ Because he already has experiences with anything child-related from raising his two daughters, this cat-lover would be able to handle any challenge you handed him

🐈‍⬛ (for the fems!) If you were to have anything related to periods and such, he'd be right by your side helping you all the way through your pain, and don't forget his two daughters!

🐈‍⬛ They'd by right by your side as well, helping you very amazingly, as they learned what to do from their father's example

🐈‍⬛ If he cannot be there to comfort you or anything like that, he'd normally allow Lucius to be there to watch over you, like a sports game? Lucius! Play? Lucius! Really anything

🐈‍⬛ Because of how close you are to this imposing teacher, Lucius would be right by your side a lot, which if you're the MC/Yuu, would get a few cat fights to be initiated from their shared possessiveness of you

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(I do know that Same technically isn't an NRC teacher, but I like adding him in, so :p)

🃏 Sam is the literal definition of the 'best dad on earth'

🃏 He is quite a fun guy at times, and if you are related through blood, you share the go-lucky and charismatic personality

🃏 This man would get you into his 'spiritual connections' faster than any kid falling back asleep after turning off their alarm clock

🃏 Yes, he's that good of a salesperson

🃏 You're the only one, and I mean the only one, who is safe from being called a 'little imp', instead though, he'd call you his 'little clover', even if you hated it, he wouldn't stop calling you it

🃏 Handling teenager things is quite hard for him, as he was kind off socially distanced because of his interests, but seeing you either in emotional pain or physical pain hurts him and makes him want to just wrap around you in a bear hug and never let go

🃏 He had be quite protective of you, especially when around the other spirits he knows. Like Eliza for example, during the wedding event, he made sure she didn't choose you, as you were A; to young for it (in his eyes lol) and B; he wanted you to marry on your own will

🃏 You're definitely close to the spirits he contacts, which scares the other students when a shadow randomly chases another down the hallway

❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅

My rankings for best to worst father ; NRC teachers

Mozus Trein

Sam

Divus Crewel

Ashton Vargas

Dire Crowley

❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅

[th3archivisst]

Hob had been very annoyed with the downfall of modern sweets. The chocolate no longer had as much taste, it was just sugar. And all the best candies had been out of production for years. He mostly missed Cadbury’s Aztec bar, but that had been gone since the 70s.

He had been planning on complaining about that to his stranger during their meetup in 1989, but well. That didn’t happen.

So, he’d just gone on with daily life, no longer going out to the store everyday to get his favorite sugar bombs. The only thing that was still good was the ice cream, and every once in a while a cake or cookie. He mostly just stuck with savory foods though.

And then, his dear stranger had returned. And not only had he returned, but he had told Hob his name.

Dream.

It was so fitting that Hob had laughed when he heard it first. And then, later that night, he had murmured it over and over again, cheeks hurting from the smile he hadn’t been able to get rid of since his friend came back.

He hadn’t had the chance to tell Dream everything he’d wanted to that day, but to his surprise and delight, Dream had showed up not a week later right outside his classroom door. He’d almost given the student who opened it a heart attack.

They had walked through the park together, talking amiably. Or, Hob had talked, and Dream had listened attentively, smiling from time to time and adding a thing or two here and there.

It was during this friendly conversation that Hob had remembered how awful modern day sweets were. They had just been passing a shop, and a pair of kids had walked out of it, one holding a chocolate bar and breaking a piece off for their friend.

Hob had looked at them for a second, then remembered.

“Oh yeah, and did you know just how bad all the sweet stuff has gotten?”

He’d gone on like this for around a minute before-

“I really miss Aztec though. That was some really good stuff. Too bad they discontinued it in the 70s, dammit.”

Dream had looked up at him then, brow furrowed and eyes twinkling. He’d left shortly afterwards, to Hob’s immense disappointment. Though he had promised to come back before next century.

For two weeks after that, everything was quiet. No sign of Dream, just regular old brilliant life. Although it would be a fair lot more brilliant with a certain gorgeous pale goth in it.

Now, Hob sat by the window in the New Inn, checking the assignments his students had handed back to him earlier that week. It was around 9pm, only just getting dark. (Thank god for summer, shortens the electricity bill)

Suddenly, a cat meowed just outside the window. Hob jumped a bit, then looked over.

It was beautiful black tom, with silky fur and eyes like the cosmos. Those eyes were very familiar…

With a grin and a sneaking suspicion, Hob got up and moved to the door to let the thing in. It meowed up at him and rubbed against his legs as it entered.

He went back to his spot and sat back down. The cat hopped up on the chair opposite him. For a while, Hob just continued checking the essays, not paying the cat any mind. If his suspicion was correct, that was the best way to prove it, he though.

And he thought correctly.

Twenty minutes in, a slight breeze flowed through the inn.

Another minute later, a quiet cough sounded across from Hob.

Hob grinned and liften his gaze to meet Dream’s.

“Dream! How lovely to see you.”

He teased his friend, amused at how his brow creased with slight annoyance. He knew Dream wouldn’t run off from some casual banter, so he could afford this little thing every now and then.

“What brings you here, my friend?”

Dream blinked silently. Then, he reached into a coat pocket and pulled something out.

“Close your eyes, Hob.”

Hob did.

“Give me your hand.”

And Hob did. He was confused, but interested and eager at the prospect of touching this ethereal creature.

He realized he had never done so before.

Dream’s skin was softer than any silk Hob had ever known, though it emanated no warmth.

Maybe Hob could rub some into it some day.

Hopefully that day would come soon.

A small, plastic package settled in his hand, and cold fingers closed his own around it.

When Hob opened his eyes, he was alone at the table again, holding a candy bar. He blinked a few times, perturbed.

Then, he looked down at the bar and his breath hitched.

It was an Aztec.

It was a damn Aztec.

A laugh escaped him, incredulous and delighted. He pocketed the sweet, determined to get Dream to try it with him later.

And also maybe kiss him senseless as thanks.

This post was inspired by @gabessquishytum’s post, which you can find here

[russellsppttemplates]

Two peas in a pod (Mick Schumacher)

Mick and Y/N take Aurora to the family's ranch in Texas for the first time and, despite a newfound love for horses, Angie will always be their daughter's favourite

Note: english is not my first language. I don't know if this is where the request was headed, so apologies if this does not meet the expectation

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not actively taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so but know that I don't know when I'll be able to tend to them!

The plane had arrived late at night, Mick carrying a sleeping Aurora inside the house while you and Corinna carried the rest of the bags inside, Angie following you quietly behind. Despite the late hour, Gina had stayed up to greet you, some snacks and drinks on the table as you sat down on the sofa, not sleepy but definitely tired from the long travel, "How did she do on the plane?", your sister in law asked as she cuddled your daughter, her fingers gently touching her soft cheek, "She didn't enjoy the noise at take off but other than that she was pretty good, spent most of the time sleeping or eating", Mick said after the drank some water, recoiling back to rest against the sofa, his arm stretching over your shoulder, "And you? Are you feeling good?", he whispered on your ear, tuning out the coos coming from his mother and sister, "yeah, just a bit tired from running around and worrying for Rora", you smiled, "but I can't wait to show her around the ranch, she'll be so excited about all the new things".

After changing and feeding Aurora, your little girl was back asleep in her cot while you put on your pyjamas on, crawling under the sheets and laying down next to Mick on the bed, "Goodnight, my love", you said, "I love you", earning a kiss on your forehead, "sleep tight, I love you too", before you both drifted off to sleep.

.

Waking up from Aurora's small cries, you stretched your limbs before you got to her, noticing Mick must have left a while ago since his side of the bed was made and cold, as well as the clothes he had laid out the night before gone from the chair, "Good morning, good morning, sunshine! Did you have a good sleep on the new bed?", you asked as you traced your finger under your daughter's lips, earning a smile from her, "It would appear so", you gestured with your hands so she could prop herself up on the bars and you could pick her up, "C'mon, let's go change and head downstairs because I can smell some delicious breakfast", you beamed as you grabbed outfits for you and Aurora, choosing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt for yourself and picking some leggings and a plaid long shirt material for the little girl, the outfit your husband and propusely got for this trip for her, the patterned fabric just about covering her bum and making her look cute as ever. "You really are the cutest baby, look! That's you!", you said as you pointed at one of the mirrors on the corridor before making your way down the stairs, Gina and Corinna sat at the table, "Good morning gorgeous girls", Corinna said as she opened her arms, Aurora stretching her own so she could be held by her grandmother, "Mick really is already out, hm?", you mentioned, noticing he wasn't in the kitchen, "seems he really can't take a day off", Gina said as you tucked into your food.

Grabbing a coat for Aurora, you ventured out into the stables, assuming you'd find your husband there when Angie came out of there, running to you and licking Aurora's feet, "there you are! I was wondering how long it would take for you to come look for your other half", you said as you petted her fur with the arm that wasn't holding your daughter close to you, knowing how inseparable Angie and Aurora have been since you brought your daughter home for the first time. Hearing the noise inside, you followed the sound to see your husband putting some hay for the horses, his fitted jeans and top showing off his flexed muscles, "Good morning papa!", you tempted as Aurora squealed, catching her father's attention with her sound, "Good morning, my loves! Have you come to see the horses, babygirl?", Mick asked as he dusted his hands on his jeans, his arms open to engulf you in a hug, "Good morning, schatz", he said as he kissed your lips before kissing Aurora's forehead, his hands grabbing her from you so she could rest on his hip, "these are horses, Rora, go on, you can pet them", he said, noticing her curious eyes but hesitant hands until they fell on the hairs, stroking as she giggled at the new sensation. You helped Mick in the tasks that were left before you headed outside, your hands holding the smaller horse's lead rope so Mick could ride with Aurora, the eighteen month old letting out little gasps and giggles when repeating a few words Mick said like "horse" and "fur", as he made sure she was safe whilst she was on top of the horse.

Arriving back home, Angie was the first to lay down on the floor by the dining table, the food Corinna had prepared for you smelling heavenly, "eat up, guys, I'm sure you're hungry from all you've done this morning!", she said as everyone served themselves. "I'm going to put her down for her nap", Mick said as he rocked Aurora in his arms, her face nuzzled on his neck while her hand latched on the fabric of the top he was wearing, excusing himself from the kitchen, Angie following behind while you and Corinna finished tidying and cleaning up.

When you entered the living room, the sight you were presented with was delicious. Your daughter was sleeping on your husband's chest, Angie cuddled up to his side while the three of them slept their busy morning's tiredness away, "Corinna, come see this", you whisper-yelled as she was passing the corridor, poking her head in to see them, "I know I may be biased but he's really good with her", she mused, "Oh, he's the best. The absolute best, Aurora couldn't be luckier", you smiled as you noticed your husband's arm get tighter around your daughter's torso, "she is the luckiest little girl out there because she has the both of you for her parents", your mother in law smiled as she made her way upstairs, leaving you to join the family cuddle. Mick must gave sensed your presence, stirring in his sleep as he opened his blue eyes, smiling soflty at you, "You had a busy morning, Mick, you should rest", you said as you brushed some hairs away from his forehead, "I'm good, that little nap helped", he said as his arm managed to hold you closer to him, "You know what? I think Angie is a bit jealous of the horses, they're the ones getting the most of Aurora's attention and she doesn't like it, as soon as I sat here she came straight out to plant herself here", he spoke his thoughts out loud, chuckling softly so as to not wake any of them up.

The sun setting was beautiful to behold, you and Mick laying on the blanket you had put down while Aurora and Angie walked around the field, completely free just going about their time, your daughter occasionally poiting things out to her auntie Gina who had joined them as everyone enjoyed the end of the day, "this is really nice, and the girls really like it here, Angie can run around freely, Aurora loves the horses, not more than she loves Angie though", you snickered as you watched your daughter grab on Angie's ear as she guided the dog to where she wanted to go, "Those two are like two peas in a pod", he agreed. As Gina called her niece to join her to pet the horses over the fence, Aurora looked at Angie and the little stick they had been playing with, saying something back to her along the lines that she would play with the dog, making you laugh at their connection. Later that night, Angie was sleeping by Aurora's cot's feet, the busy day catching up with both of them as they rested, "you really gave me the perfect little family, thank you", you said to your husband, your chest against his as you looked at them before pressing a kiss on his lips, "Mrs Y/N Schumacher, this is just the beggining of our family".

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[lostmyshadesanon]

Happy Birthday Felix 🎂🎁 🎉🎊

@teyvat-writer

🦊 - Anon here!!! It's finally the day. I hope.

I have no idea what time zone you live in so I'm posting this a bit early just in case!

If it's still the 28th when you see this. Don't open it!

Let the anticipation build!

This should be the last part for our poor hydro archon, but I'm sure the most anticipated. Let's hope we can do it justice.

Mindbroken?Hydro!Archon!Male!Reader x FoulLegacy!Childe

Wouldn't it be funny if I put a rickroll here?

Or just an error message, lol.

But anyway moving on.

*

You feebly twitched as you felt Childe fuck you with his entire fist in your gaping hole. Leisurely opening and closing his hand as he ground his knuckles into your swollen prostate, and commented idly on your puffy rim.

By this point you could barely even feel when another orgasm was ripped from your soiled body, and your cock jerked underneath you.

Childe had been at this for hours. He hadn't been inside you or orgasmed since the first round, but he seemed determined to be able to shove both of his fists in your aching hole regardless of how long it took.

When you had the capacity to think between orgasms you wondered why your guards had not coming looking for you after all this time, and hoped that if the Fatui had restrained them that they hadn't died, but just been incapacitated.

Though you were never able to think long before another orgasm was dragged out of you. Combined with the saccharine sweet voice mockingly praising you. Your head was almost completely empty and body numb to the pleasure you were being put through.

You could only gurgle faintly when Childe finally got his way and stretched you enough that both his balled up fists could fit into your gaping hole. He didn't remain there for long quickly pulling both his hands free, as be grinned in glee at your ruined hole.

"I think you're finally ready, my darling patron!" He crowed, lightly petting your back as if you were a prized pet who had completed a new trick.

Staring at him through dazed and bleary eyes you wondered. "Ready for what? What more could you do to ruin me?"

He must have the ability to read your mind, or long ago you had lost the stoic control you had over your facial expression. Childe bared his fangs in a mean smile. "Though I made sure the preparation was pleasurable you've barely reacted! That's quite unfair considering how many orgasms you've had compared to me.", The demon masquerading as a man pouted. "So to make sure you're still paying attention I've brought this!"

Childe brought out a potion bottle with some unknown blue liquid inside. With a loud pop he uncorked it, tilted your hips high enough up to send sparks of pain through your spine, and promptly shoved it inside you so it could empty unhindered into your defenseless body.

There was only a moment where you felt the strange liquid mix with the remnants of your favored's cum were you debated on the odd sensation reminded you of, before it felt like it ignited inside you, and you screamed.

It was like liquid fire had been poured into you. The disassociation you had been able to reach banished like morning fog, as your nerves lit up like a livewire. You start to moan like a bitch in heat drool leaking from your mouth as the fire spread across your body. Making you feel every pulse of your insides and cock, your hole desperately grasping at the bottle inside it, but it was too small!

What had Childe done to you?! That something the size of a wine bottle would feel too small??? As your body desperately begged for something bigger, something warmer, and the aching need to cum.

That shouldn't be possible. You shouldn't even be able to come at this point considering how many orgasms had been forced upon you?!?! You could only cry out in delight eyes rolling when Childe's hands skimmed over your cock, and tugged teasingly at the bottle in your ass.

"Ah, already begging for more, my dear patron?" Childe stated teasingly. "Dottore did say this was strong but I didn't think it'd be this strong."

Barely leaving you room to breath. Childe ripped the bottle from your grasping insides sending you screaming into orgasm. You were barely aware of your begging as you sobbed at the empty feeling inside you.

"Oh, darling don't worry you'll be full very soon. I have to make sure to claim you in a way that NO ONE will ever be able to satisfy you again. That way both you and the world know you're MINE." Childe whispered the words confidently into the small of your back before dragging sharp canines growing steadily into fangs down to the swell of your ass.

"Prepare yourself!" He cautioned before sneering over your begging form and rolling eyes, "If you still have the capacity too." Before he slid his fangs deep into the small of your back a glowing riptide mark spreading out like ink over your skin as electricity started to coat his own.

Spine arched from the conflicting flashes of pain and pleasure you felt more than saw the transformation happening behind you.

Cool hands grew massive claws as they clutched at your hips drawing hints of blood from where they pressed. The cracking of electricity and bone as you were hoisted off the ground jerkily from your current partner's growth in height and size. The fangs in your back sliding smoothly out and a smooth texture replaced it almost like being pressed up against marble. You could feel fur tickling your back as you twisted to see what kind of horrors awaited you.

He was massive, he was intimidating, he was gorgeous. The feral boy who had struggled to survive in the abyss had not only tamed it but made it part of his strength in this new form. Massive blood red horns sprouted from his mask, and a cape seemingly made of stars and space.

Dragging your eyes down you froze. Childe's cock had already been awe inspiring as a human, but in this form...

It was terrifying. It seemed to emerge from some kind of protective slit. The shape was as inhuman as his current form, and a size to match. He was easily double if not closer to triple your height and his cock fit his current form. Easily the size of one of your thighs if not bigger. You now understood the need for hours of stretching. It was ribbed increasing it's girth though it did not have a bulbous head which made you weary. That implied that whatever Childe had turned into was a creature built for egg laying. You couldn't see any kind of testes but knew he was fertile considering the steady drip of pre cum from the swollen tip. You could also see a slight pouch towards the base of his member which you knew meant he probably had a knot too.

You were horrified when your body shivered in pleasure at the sight and smell of the crime against nature before you. You desperately were trying to convince yourself that the utter wanton lust inside you was based on whatever mysterious liquid Childe had forced you to consume.

A rolling purr vibrated through you from the creature before you as you chocked on your own drool unable to take your eyes off the cock before you, but Childe didn't allow you to stare for much longer.

Raising your body up as if it weighed no more than a toy, and similarly treating you no better than a ragdoll, Childe positioned you over his monstrosity of a cock.

Desperately you were muttering no over and over again as you pawed uselessly at his shoulders trying to climb away as you were lowered closer and closer to the leaking member. You knew you'd never recover from this once you got a taste of what was about to penetrate you you'd never be the same, and only be able to thirst and be filled by this monstrous thing.

A deep chuckle pressed near your ear as Childe bent so that his face was near yours still lowering and positioning you for his cock. "You did say on your honor as an Archon you'd take me. So take me!"

Before sheathing himself inside you in one smooth motion. Your nerves screamed with you. You could feel ever rib as they caressed your swollen insides and invaded your body. You could do nothing but cry and take it, as he used your body like nothing more then a sex toy to masturbate himself with.

Grunts and growls joined your screams and begging as he furiously bounced you on his dick. Whispering praises and croons near your head while your eyes crossed and tongue hung uselessly from your mouth. Though his tip wasn't shaped like a human man's it did its job of digging into your prostate so that pleasure was dragged from your willing body, and your unwilling submission from your mind.

You're going to break! 💙

You're going to brEAK! 💙💙

You'RE GoING To BrEAK! 💙💙💙

You screamed until your voice broke, eyes becoming fully unfocused, as your body spasmed uselessly through orgasm grasping desperately at the welcome intruder making itself home inside you.

Gleeful claws dug deeper into your hips drawing blood when Childe felt you completely relax no longer even a token struggle being put up by his patron. No his love. Now he could just TAKE.

Claws delicately crawled up your torso to carefully grasp and pull at your swollen teats intent on tugging and bruising them until they were swollen enough to be mistaken for small tits and the idea of covering up would be laughable due to sensitivity.

He watches in delight as you could only moan, and get out enough syllables to beg while he drove you far past overstimulation. Your pupils not even attempting to track anything occuring around you.

Though all good things must come to an end and Childe could feel the tightening in his gut and stir in his knot that this round was drawing to a close.

You could only sob and thrash in utter pleasure as Childe continued to stimulate your chest. Nipples bruised and swollen a cherry red easily the size of the tip of a person's thumb, before feeling the man, monster, behind you still with a deep groan.

Your animal hind brain could only gasp in relief thinking this trial of endurance was finally over. But you should stop under estimating your favored he loves to exceed expectations.

You could only twitch weakly, pinned to his crotch, as you were suspended in the air, when you felt his knot start to inflate. Your cock dripped a steady flow of pre cum from Childe's tip being ground against your probably bruised and weeping prostate, as you both waited for his knot to fully inflate.

But the worst had still yet to come. Finally after what felt like minutes and a few micro orgasms you felt Childe move. A twitch in his stomach before a lurch in his cock. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before taking a ragged gasp.

Something solid was moving through the member nestled deep inside you. Stretching you out further to accommodate it. You could only sob as it worked further into you.

Childe dragged a clawed hand up to your cheek lightly caressing you. "You're doing so well pet. You'll make such a good incubator and brood mother. All for my lovely eggs." Childe sneered delighted at your faint moaned denials and twitches. He loved that even now you were attempting to fight him. Pleasure broken as you were.

Childe ground into you lightly tugging at your rim with his knot to hear you gasp and cry before leaning forward as if to hear you better. "What was that my love? I couldn't have heard you denying to be my broodmare after all you promised to take all of me. I'm only making sure you follow through. After all you'll look so pretty full of my eggs."

Childe's hand on your face dragged your chin down to look at your ever filling stomach. During your conversation he had been quick to fill you. You were so bloated at this point you could easily see the faint shape of the eggs inside you.

A ragged gasp left your lips as the next egg pressed sharply against your prostate finally sending you over the edge and into orgasm. You wailed as your eyes rolled grasping desperately at your ever increasing stomach. Unable to come down from orgasm as each egg made a pass over your prostate.

This seemed to delight your captor. Childe's voice deepened in mockery, "You try to keep your pride and make denials that you're not a whore who loves the idea of being fucked and filled constantly and yet you can't stop continuously orgasming on my cock like some desperate slit." Childe wickedly continued micro thrusting to fuck you with his knot as his eggs kept your orgasm from truly ending.

Over time Childe felt his eggs slow to a stop and his knot start to deflate. Carefully he lowered himself and you to the floor as he let his transformation peel away to show his human form keeping his still sizeable cock plugging you full.

Placing you delicately in his lap so you could continue to cockwarm him Childe hummed a jaunty tune. Waving a hand in front of your face his tune picked up in beat at the lack of reaction or recognition in his darlings eyes. He had finally broken you for now. He expected you'd pull yourself together eventually, but it should be long enough he can bundle you away, and sedate your now human form, for the long trip to Sneznaya.

After all his family had been inquiring when he would take a partner, but knew he'd had his eyes only on one. After all one day he'd been King of everything and he needed a capable partner at his side. Placing a kiss on your temple Childe continued humming as he watched his agents enter the room and prepare for their swift getaway.

He grinned your first mistake was truly saving his life and putting him in debt to you. After all he always keeps his promises and pays his debts.

*

I think that's it. That was hard to figure out how to end. 🤔

Hopefully you liked it Felix! After I did all that hype for this chapter.

Happy birthday again. 🎉🎉😆😆

From 🦊 Anon!

[cryptidvoidwritings]

*shoves into the void*

Altugger Week Day 5

(free day), 800 words, SFW

(In several days late because that’s what I get for being on vacation.)

The pigeon sat in the weak winter sun, entirely unaware that its existence was reaching the end. Alonzo crept slowly towards it.

Steady.

He crouched in the shadows and waited out his shaking legs. They hadn’t been able to eat so well in ages— most of the birds had nests and the mice and rats knew better than to come out of the warm sewers. For a while there had been a human but they’d disappeared. Alonzo’s legs stopped shaking. He stood slowly and readied himself.

Something huge and black blurred by.

Alonzo blinked dumbly where the pigeon had been; it cried a death shriek and was silent. Alonzo’s ears flattened. He whirled around, hissing his angriest, meanest hiss. The mass of black was a cat with a golden head and ridiculous ruff of gold and black stripes. Alonzo had seen him around the neighborhood, of course. A show cat if there ever had been one: He was absolutely gorgeous. Alonzo had often wondered what kind of rich and well fed house he lived in.

The tom had the audacity to open his mouth.

Alonzo hissed with even more feeling.

The tom jerked a little. His tufted ears flattened but hardly a second later they were pointed curiously at Alonzo. He closed his mouth and nudged the pigeon over, then took a few steps away and settled down on his stomach. Alonzo eyed him warily.

“S’yours,” the tom mumbled.

“What?”

“You didn’t look so steady. Thought I’d help.”

“Didn’t need it,” Alonzo snapped. His cheeks flushed.

The tom tilted his head. “Well, you’re welcome anyway. You should try the junkyard.”

Alonzo blinked. “What?”

“There’s a junkyard down the road. Ask for Munkustrap or Jellylorum. They probably won’t ask but you can say Tugger referred you.”

“Why would I?”

The tom studied Alonzo silently for a long minute. At last he shrugged and shook out his coat. “You might not need to, I suppose. It’s just an option. Not everything needs to be a struggle.”

“Like you’d know,” Alonzo snorted.

The tom’s— Tugger’s— tail thumped once. He stood slowly. It was only when he did that Alonzo realized exactly how large Tugger was; and it wasn’t all just fur. Tugger smiled a cryptic sort of half-turn of his lips.

“See you around,” he said.

“Don’t count on it.”

+

But it wasn’t long after that Victoria started shivering despite Alonzo’s best attempts at keeping her and Quaxo warm. The pigeon went down and came back up. When her cries got to be too much, Alonzo got Quaxo to his feet.

“Where are we going?” Quaxo asked.

“For help,” Alonzo said stiffly. “Follow me.”

He took Victoria by her scruff and headed down the road Tugger had once indicated. Alonzo couldn’t help but keep a wary, roving eye out— for danger, of course, not for Tugger. Alonzo hadn’t seen Tugger at all since the pigeon incident, even though he’d promised to be around.

So much for him.

Quaxo was just starting to complain about his paws hurting when they reached the fence of what was indeed a junkyard. (Alonzo was half surprised it hadn’t been some kind of trick.) As soon as they were in sight of the gate, several tomcats appeared as if from the shadows. Quaxo immediately tried to hide himself in Alonzo’s flank. Alonzo set Victoria down gently and stood over her. She mewled softly.

“I’m supposed to ask for Munkustrap or Jellylorum?” And then, because he couldn’t stand the silence, he blurted, “Tugger referred me?”

The tomcats did not seem surprised. A ginger tabby stepped forward.

“Welcome. They call me Skimbleshanks,” he said. “Are your kits in need of assistance?”

“My siblings. Quaxo and Victoria. She’s been shivering half a day. He’s just hungry and shy.”

Skimbleshanks nodded to the others. They melted into the junkyard and Alonzo immediately lost track of them. His ears flattened with uncertainty. Skimbleshanks smiled.

“They’ve gone to alert Jennyanydots. She’ll get your girl fixed up right off. He must like you.”

Alonzo blinked. His ears popped back up. “Wha— Who?”

“Tugger. He doesn’t often recommend new cats to us. Has only once before, actually.”

“O—oh.”

Skimbleshanks took a few steps forward and knelt in front of Quaxo, stretching his nose out and mrrping a greeting. Alonzo watched intently. Quaxo slowly stopped shaking against Alonzo’s side and raised his head to sniff. His little tail went up curiously and he crept forward to touch noses. Skimbleshanks smiled.

“There we go.” He licked the top of Quaxo’s head. Briefly he caught Alonzo’s gaze. “He’ll be pleased you’ve come.”

Alonzo flushed. His tail whipped. “Sure.”

Skimbleshank’s brown tail settled comfortingly over Alonzo’s back. His easy smile came once again. “Come, let’s get you settled. He’ll be by as soon as he’s done with his human’s show.”

[fictionalmenmistress]

Review: Cruella (2021)

OK... BUT CRUELLA WAS SO FREAKIN GOOD. I HATE TUMBLR PEOPLE FOR MAKING ME THINK IT WAS GOING TO BE BAD, BECAUSE IT WAS STUNNING. Visually AMAZING. And I was thrilled to the end. My art-loving eyes were orgasming from every scene. Yeah... its like the people on tumblr didn't even WATCH the movie to know the full plot... like?? She wasn't redeemed, she accepted her bad unapologetically?? The dogs didn't kill her mom and she didn't hate them for it?? It was clear whomst the villain was, and it gave us a lot of original themes.

I compared it to Maleficent. It was a new spin on an old baddie, that made her even better. It was a unique new telling of an old character, and they did it quite well. It was fun and they took every creative liberty, but it was SMASHING.

Tbh never really cared about cruella as a villain or character before this (and I grew up watching 101 Dalmatians... she was just that mean old lady everyone hates),

but DANG THIS MOVIE WAS MY SPIRIT ANIMAL.

Cruella CRUELLA CRUELLLLLAAAAA!!! She was stunning and captivating and UGH the soundtrack and pacing was BADASS!!! The fashion was revolutionary, every outfit was gorgeous. And I really loved this new spin on her, that she wasn't necessarily the "bad guy" villain and she wasn't necessarily a good person either. She was an image and a persona, a complex ball of chaos and passion smushed together. And she did get consumed with it, because she locked that part of herself away for so long. She was a morally grey baddie who loved her men, and they loved her too.

She dealt with confliction on who she was supposed to be... either what everyone expected? The "good girl"? Or her true self, bad and good and all, that no one seemed to approve of, that she neglected and hid away? That hit so hard at home for me, as someone who struggled with the same thing all my life. Who are we going to choose to be? Our unique true selves, or what the model ideal is... being "normal" and trying to blend? And I loved how at the end, although she chose her persona, she became a blend of the best and truest of herself in both personas. Estella was still in there, and we see that by how she came to still love and care for all her friends and apologise to them. And, she finally was Cruella, her true form that she felt free in. She was exactly who she always was inside, and she finally was able to breathe, and accept all of herself. That freedom, to accept yourself with your flaws and strengths, it was really powerful. And really conflicting too, since she decided she was "the bad one". It was a complex character theme told and expressed well. I really loved it all. And ARTIE!! Ugh he was so amazing. What a legend he was.

The whole rock'n'roll asthetic that was shooting through all of her bold and punky royalty looks, was a fashion designer's WET DREAM. This movie... is a wild masterpeice. It may not be the best movie ever, and it may not have a perfect oscar storyline, but it had me hooked from start to end, and I absolutely adored it. Its definitely my new favorite movie, and that's sucsess enough to me.

ALSO?? ESTELLA AND JASPER?? I SAW THOSE EYES YOU HAD FOR HER, MY SWEET DUDE... UGHHHH I LOVED THEIR DYNAMIC. I WAS SHIPPING THEM SO HARD, and as some of you who read my posts may already know, its rare that I actually ship characters unless they are already together, or get together in canon. I just... I love them. Even Emma Stone ships them together... like YES HONEY GET YOUR SUPPORTIVE BOY-TOY! And Horace and lil wink... so cute. 🥺🥺🥺

I really loved the spin they put on her story, and Horace and Jasper's too. Its unique and fresh and fun. And I really enjoyed it, even if the plot doesn't seamlessly align with 101 Dalmatians. That was a movie about dogs, thats rad. It has a crazy old woman who wants a fur coat, thats fine. BUT GIVE ME MY DARLING CRUELLA WHO'S GOT TWO COMPLETELY SEPARATE PERSONALITIES COEXISTING IN ONE, WHO'S A BADDIE AND WANTS TO RULE THE WORLD. GIVE ME THE ABSOLUTE FASHION QUEEN, THAT YOU INDEED WILL BOW BEFORE, SO SHE CAN STEP ON YOU. Give me her. I love this Cruella more than I ever cared for the original Cruella. So... why do we have to get mad at new spins being put on old classics, that do actually make them even better in the way they did it? At least it wasn't a Lion King, where it was literally a carbon-copy of the same film with nothing new (even camera angles) beside some bad song remakes and a new texture skin pack? This was amazing like Maleficent was. I adored it. And it inspired me, it motivated me to chase after my own dreams, and be unapologetically myself. To embrace my full self. And also, that its okay to want to rule your industry. And to go after that dream.😏

SPOILER ALERT FROM HERE:

I'm an analytical writer in my line of work, and I actually didn't see her being the Baroness's daughter plot twist coming?? Plot twists rarely suprise me. I actually was like WAIT. Honestly, my expectation was that the bald butler was her biological father, and the maid had conceived Estella with him, and thats why she went there to ask for financial help. But when they said she was HER daughter?? The Baroness??? I have to say, that was an excellent plot choice. It fits.

(Spoiler over.)

The story was a bit crazy and simple, but it was really fun. They pulled it off in a really entertaining way.

Cruella all the way. I reccomend you go see this for yourself, I actually really want to see it again. And in fact, I will.

>Navigate My Main Masterlist

[angeli-marco-writes]

Harrison Osterfield - A Happy Day (& A Puppy)

A/N & WC - I don't know Haz, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction. 3.2k

Warnings - Mentions of a dog rescue centre and poorly dogs, slight anxiety, copious amounts of fluff.

Summary - Today is the day you and Haz get a puppy. It's the next big step in your relationship, and despite your anxieties, you know it's a happy day.

YOUR HEART FILLS WITH GLEE at the prospect of the day. You and your boyfriend, Harrison, have been together for a long time now, by ‘young people’ standards, and have recently taken the giant step of moving in together. Only, after you lived in a flat with various different people for a long time, and after he spent so long in a house with three other blokes (where you also spent a substantial share of your time earlier in the relationship, much to your dismay,) it’s quiet with just the two of you. And not the good quiet, though sometimes it’s nice and peaceful. You’re just both so accustomed to the constant bustle of people. And the only comprisable solution you could come up with, save for moving back in with Haz’s old housemates? Get a dog.

Obviously you want to, you love dogs, but it’s also a bridge to your future.

“Are you ready to go sweetheart?” Haz shouts from the doorway, rustling with his coat, while you’re still in the bedroom.

“Do we have to?” you beg.

“Yeah we do. You want this dog, don’t you?”

“Of course I do... it’s the rest I’m anxious about.”

See, you’ve been conversing with a shelter home for some weeks now, ever since they got an influx of puppies. A big litter of little blighters, separated from their mother and left to die on the side of the road in a damp cardboard box. Thankfully, and by some kind of God-given miracle, they all survived, and many have already been adopted, but your little treasure? You were the only takers. Not that you’re complaining, obviously.

Haz appears in the doorway, his own pea coat fitted to his form perfectly, tailored and tan to suit his complexion. He holds yours out to you and edges closer to your shared bed, made and done up by him.

“I know, baby, but it’s gonna be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You loose a sigh. “Is there any way we can go in the back way?”

Your own puppy eyes convince him and he kisses you. “I’ll see what I can do. If not, just close your eyes and I’ll lead the way.”

Shelters upset you immensely. How anyone could hurt a dog or abandon it is beyond you, they’re the most precious things ever and need to be protected and adored at all costs. You knew you wanted a rescue dog from the get go, but you’d never be able to bring yourself to actually scour shelters to look for a dog. You just hope this one likes you, or else Haz is gonna have to do it all himself. You can’t face the pleading faces and the imploring eyes and the sadness around the whole place. If you could, you’d buy them all, give them a good, loving home, but you can’t, and that harsh reality leaves a pit in your stomach and a hole in your heart.

“Don’t cry darling.” he coos, kissing your tears away with tender brushes of his lips.

You hadn’t even realised you were crying. How emotional can you be? Today is supposed to be happy, but you’re breaking at the first hurdle. To make the pressures worse, you know that, if you don’t take this little bean, it’ll be put down.

“Come on, it’s a happy day,” he prompts once he realises you’re no longer crying. He stands, shrugs your coat onto you, and pulls you to standing, wrapping his arms around your torso as he sways. “We’re getting a puppy!”

His sheer excitement in his voice brings joy to you too, any doubt being left behind as you sway with hum, holding him close. You’re getting a puppy.

A little more pep is in your step once you stand up, ensuring your hands are adjoined the whole time. Concealing your nerves with excitement is a solid step, so you paint on a happier face than before and clutch him close as you tug him to the front door.

“We’re really doing it, we’re getting a puppy,” you say.

He nods, keying the door open, “That we are. Think we’re ready?”

You almost howl laughing. In many ways, yes. You’re mature people in a committed relationship, you’re both incredibly responsible in all the ways that matter, and know when you need to take the next step or hold back. Getting a puppy is a huge leap, though. But you’ve thought about it, planned for it, prayed for it to work, so there’s no reason you shouldn’t be ready, but it feels like a giant step. In the right direction. That’s all that matters; that, and the fact you’ll love this puppy endlessly.

“Y’know what? Yes. We’ve worked for this.”

“That we have, darling.”

Reaching the car, he places a kiss to the crown of your head. “Conserve your energy, honey. How about I drive?”

“Okay,” you answer, pecking Haz on the lips after he opens your door for you and hovers at your height until you answer him. “That means I can cuddle it on the way home.”

“It’s not an ‘it’, remember?” he chides, but the excitement is evident in his tone and the sparkle in his eyes, “we gave it a name.”

“Bixby, and he’s a boy, I know. How long is the drive?”

You fasten your seatbelt, smiling at him as he limbers into the drivers side. He’s attuned to your subtle mood shifts now, and realises that you’re slipping more from anxiety into anticipation, and he needs to work to keep you there, soothe you so that you don’t cry at the shelter. He’s a gem is Harrison, and you know he’ll be a brilliant dog-dad. It’s a huge part of why you’ve lasted so long together. The second you saw him with Monty, you knew he was a keeper.

After strapping his own seatbelt and manoeuvring the car into gear, he reaches over and curls his fingers around your thigh, pulling on that invisible connection between you, tugging you to look at him.

When you do, he spies that your current happiness isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but is in part a façade. Haz loves you, but you’re the damn most sensitive soul he’s ever come across, especially when it comes to animals. The main reason the two of you got your own place was because living with people you weren’t close to took a real toll on you, as it did him—no matter how reluctant he is to admit it, the forced intimacy of it all, so this puppy is a big step to comfort you both and help you settle down to this new walk of life.

Of course the delight is there, of course you’re happy, but your slight snags and worries are visible to him too. “Love you, baby,” he whispers, leaning over to lock your lips together, applying a certain pressure, sucking on your lower lip gently as his hold on your thigh increases.

Once he pulls away, he sees the true you, calm gracing all of your beautiful features so nicely, happiness in your eyes and a wry smile on your lips, no overt anticipation of any kind.

“You can choose the music, yeah?” is all he says, offering you the twitch of a smirk before he’s locking the key into the ignition and you’re off.

You nod, whether he sees it or not, and plug your phone into the radio, allowing yours and Haz’s playlist to stream through the speakers, the melodies wrapping you in their embrace the whole journey.

One thing Haz has learnt through his time with you is that his touch grounds you. No matter what it is, as long as he’s touching you, you’re okay, your breathing regulated, your nervous habits quieted. And though you’ve never outwardly confessed it, his comfort has helped you more times than you’d ever care to admit aloud. He knows this, but no one else needs to.

Once you park up, Harrison leans over to kiss you again, more gently this time. “I’m gonna ask if there’s a way we can get you around the back, okay? Don’t want you getting upset on such a happy day.”

“Thanks babe.”

You peck his lips, but tug away almost instantly, afraid if you don’t, you’ll be here a while. He smiles, and shuts the door behind him, tapping on your window and pulling a silly face as he passes your side of the car. You wait patiently, scribbling down a list off the top of your head of things to buy for the pup. Basket, bowls, toys, mat, brush, collar, lead… you’ve already got a lot of Monty’s old things, puppy baskets he outgrew, his old crate and such like, but you’re adamant that Bixby needs a basket in every room of your place… just in case.

“Hey dreamer,” Haz’s voice snaps you from your reverie, that cute nickname he uses when you drift off into your own little world easing a smile onto your face. “He’s waiting for us, you can come in now.”

You draw your lip between your teeth, and peek over your shoulder to the little puppy holder in the back one last time, filled with a blanket and a cuddly toy. Completely unnecessary, since you plan on holding him, but Haz thought it’d be a good idea nonetheless.

He holds your hand as you tread out of the car, and the whole way into the building, and you’re glad to find a member of staff waiting to greet you with a warm handshake by the back door, happily guiding you inside to the office, more than likely. And there he is, with his big floppy ears and his droopy eyes, sitting on the chair inquisitively, looking like the prince of the palace.

“Oh my God, he’s gorgeous!” you cry, and with little reluctance, you tug away from Haz, bounding over to the puppy.

You know how startled they can get, so you ensure to stop at a safe distance, tentatively holding out your hand for the pupper to let his black nose sniffle at you, before his long pink tongue laps out and licks your hand heartily, a doggy smile breaking across his face as he pants.

“He likes me. Haz, look, he likes me!”

He chuckles, “I can see that, sweetheart.”

You firstly pat at the chestnut-dappled white fur between his ears, stroking his silken fur, before moving down his body, scruffing a little at the rolls of fat there, completely natural for a basset hound-mix. His paws are huge, though, for such a tiny dog, especially considering his stumpy legs.

“Okay, should we settle down and talk about paperwork?” says the kind lady, a completely rhetorical question.

“Come on baby, if we want Bixby to come home with us, we need to fill these forms in, yeah?”

“Yeah babe.” you nod, and glance at the only remaining available chair. “Well, Bixby, it looks like I’ll just have to pick you up. How about that?” you coo.

His tiny tail wags enthusiastically, and he slobbers another kiss to your hand, so you cautiously scoop him up and settle him on your lap once you’ve sat down.

“First of all, we need to remind you that Bixby is the... runt of the litter, and has more significant health issues than other puppies of his breed, requiring more care, including a limp and slight hearing loss in one ear, and he is small for his breed.”

“We know,” you and Harrison answer simultaneously, his one hand occupied with stroking Bixby also.

He’s dealt with business thus far, bringing Bixby blankets from the house to get him used to your scent, meeting him and meeting with the managers, filling out your application forms, making visits to the shelter. It was actually quite a miracle that you were allowed to get a puppy from here, since you both work, but due to Harrison’s schedule as an actor with press and such, he works from and near home a lot, and whenever he’s working away, despite your own job requirements, you’re able to work from home to hold the fort down. So it worked out okay. And with the compromise, they said you met the necessary guidelines to qualify for adoption with one of you almost always at home.

“And he costs £250, but he’s already been vaccinated and microchipped.” she says. You both nod; you’ve already discussed donating a hearty amount to the shelter to keep it afloat, and because Bixby should be worth a damn lot more.

For the rest of the meeting, you zone out rather a lot, only paying attention when you have to sign papers or a cheque, the rest of the time tickling and fussing your new bundle of joy, already so relaxed within your lap. The time seems to whizz by, as before you know it, you’re clambering back into the car, a towel sat over your lap, and Bixby licking happily at your cheeks.

“You know, I showed him a picture of you,” Haz says, smiling wistfully, “the first time I came to visit him. I told him you were my wife and his mum—” he trails off, and darts his eyes to yours, realising what he just blurted out with a dry mouth and knitted brows. “Baby, I didn’t mean—”

“You want to marry me?” you ask, your voice barely more than a broken whisper.

“Of course I do, sweetheart. One day you’re gonna be my wife, and Bixby can be the ring bearer, and everything will work out the way it should, and you won’t be sad anymore.”

“What makes you think I’m sad, babe?”

He raises his thumb to your cheek, capturing a tear before it falls. Again. He’s been stuck doing this a lot.

“Point taken, but for once these are happy tears. I’m just overly sensitive with… everything, but I promise I’m not sad.” Never with Haz, you think. You look down at the puppy, now half asleep, contentedly wagging his tail at a leisurely pace atop your thighs. “This is a happy day, isn’t it?”

“So happy, y/n. I love you, you know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I love you too, so much.”

He smiles, and slowly pulls out of the parking spot, ensuring to drive extra carefully, avoiding even the smallest of potholes on your journey. You keep one eye firmly on Bixby the whole time, but let the other roam your gorgeous boyfriend; the breadth of his shoulders, the veins in his hands, the intricate details in his blue orbs…

“Stop staring,” he whispers, “I can’t focus when you’re looking so pretty.”

You feel yourself flush, and turn your attention back to Bixby wholly, listening to your music as you quietly say, “I’m sorry.”

He says nothing more, but holds your hand over the gear stick the rest of the way.

*

You get a lot of attention in the pet store, carrying around a half asleep puppy with floppy ears the size of your entire face, meaning that your supposedly swift visit is elongated, but you survive, and are packed into the car shortly with everything you needed and more. A few people wanted to take a picture of Bixby, actually, having never seen a puppy basset hound in real life. You let them, leisurely trailing after Harrison as he got everything on your list, only purchasing if it passed Bixby’s sniff test.

Arriving home for the first time as a three is what makes everything seem so real, your heart overflowing with joy as you get out of the car, and walk to your door, and unlock it…

The first patter of paws on your wooden floor lets you know that this is home now, for all of you, as a family. That much is intrinsic.

“We did it. We got a puppy,” you say to Harrison, placing your hand over his chest where his heart steadily beats at a slightly faster pace.

“And we’re going to love him with everything we have.” he responds, kissing you softly, meaningfully, letting only love fill your embrace.

The skitter of Bixby’s claws coming towards you soon brings you back, though, and you begin to introduce him around the house, never once letting go of Haz’s hand. You show him the living room, where a blanket is already laid out on a sofa cushion for him to join you, and then the kitchen where his food bowls and water are, as well as his exit to the garden, and then to your bedroom, where the fluffiest basket you’ve ever seen sits in the corner, covered with swathes of blankets and scattered with toys. Treats already cover the floor all over your home, puppy training pads laid out just in case, and a hook by the front door with a blue lead dangling off it, as well as a tiny coat. Only…

“I didn’t buy this.” you say, spinning to face Haz, Bixby gnawing at his socks, rolling around at your feet.

You point towards the sturdy hook, embellished, engraved with two words. ‘Bixby Osterfield.’

“No, I did. I thought it was a nice surprise for you.”

He answers you as though it’s the most blatant thing in the universe. And really, it is something relatively small, but so thoughtful at the same time, so you open your arms wide, and nuzzle into him.

“Thank you, Haz. For everything. For this, for today, for loving me, for buying me Chinese takeout tonight.”

A laugh rips from him, his face breaking out into a wide smile, raising one hand to clutch at his chest while the other still securely encircles your waist.

“You’re more than welcome, babe. I’ll always love you. But I'm knackered.”

“Oh my God, same,” you breathe, slumping a little into him as you tickle the dog with your toes. “Who knew playing with a puppy would be so tiring?”

A low chuckle resonates from him, but he just holds you tighter, bending down to pick Bixby up as you trail over to the sofa, Haz’s footsteps silent on the glossy parquet floor of your home.

*

It doesn’t take long for you to get settled down, contentment filling you both, alongside ample Chinese food servings, and a fair amount of exhaustion too. Bixby has been with you the whole time, and while Haz sat down first, tugging you into his lap, legs spread wide as he lounged against the cushions a moment later, he ensured to position himself accurately on the ‘L’ shape of your sofa, so you could both reach the tiny snoozing puppy who curled into your side without a second thought.

“I’m glad we got a puppy,” you whisper into the darkness.

Night has come, the day having slipped away, and the movie you had playing is close to rolling its credits. You didn’t close your curtains but instead decided to watch the sun set and the star sparkle in the onyx sky, a stark contrast of beautiful silver, the light mirroring that that Bixby has brought into your lives.

“I am too, babe,” he replies, his nose burying into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, gently kissing your exposed skin, “how about we just settle here tonight?”

“Hmm, good plan,” is all you can muster, already feeling the tug of sleep, one hand on Bixby’s soft silken fur, the other holding Haz’s hand.

This is it, you think to yourself as you drift off, this is your family. Haz and Bixby, both of them snuggling into you, keeping you tethered, bringing you sheer joy. A happy day. All because you got a puppy.

[nighttimewrighter]

The Mafias Right Hand Part 1

Postserum!Steve x Reader

Summery: Steve runs into a strange woman at the post office and is left to wonder what secrets she might hold. Will they meet again?

TW: Nothing i could think of at the moment

It was a cold Tuesday morning.

So cold in fact, that anyone who considered themselves at least not completely insane, had pulled their fur coat out of the closet before leaving their apartments. 

Just to be able to snuggle into it as deeply as possible while hurrying through the busy streets of New York, following their usual Tuesday morning routine.

That was exactly what Steve was doing right now. 

He had put his only coat over his scrawny figure, trying to keep himself at least from catching a cold, as he carried a rather large Box in both of his hands. 

Bucky had asked him last minute to visit the post office to send a package to his mother. 

Why he wasn't able to do it himself? Faire question. Steve wasn't so sure about that either. But he had accepted. Even though he only did so, without having seen the actual package.  Bucky had just revealed the huge Box Steven would have to carry through half of Brooklyn after the poor man had already agreed!

But being Steve, he had accepted his fate and hurried over some streets straight ahead to the seemingly unbusy post office. But right as he wanted to open the door he, out of a sudden, forcefully crashed into something or should I say, someone? With a loud bump, he fell to the ground letting go of the package in the process. 

" Are you alright?" 

Still a little bit shocked, he looked up, right into the most mesmerizing eyes he had ever seen!

"Ehm..." 

He still struggled to get a correct word out of his mouth, while the woman with the beautiful eyes had reached for the package and lifted it off of the floor before sticking out a hand for him to grasp.

"I am so sorry, Sir!"

The woman continued to explain.

"Eh...It-it´s alright ma´am....it..it really is." 

He managed to get out, while taking her hand, getting up rather ungracefully. He quickly brushed the dirt from his pants, before taking in the girl in front of him. He was truly stunned.

She definitely was a sight, and Steven was nearly a little bit glad that it was him instead of Bucky who had brought the package to the post office. Speaking of which, the girl still holds on to it before handing it over to him again.

 Steve quickly muttered a quiet "thanks" while taking it back into his own hands. A little embarrassed, he managed to look back up at her. She was a bit taller than him, with gorgeous gleaming hair, that was slightly dancing around her truly lovely face, while one of the kindest smiles beamed down at him. 

"My names (y/n) by the way." 

Her voice was unordinary gentle and warm considering the usual rather harsh tone the busy folks wandering the streets around that time of the day usually had. 

"I´m Steve." he grew slightly more confident now and even gave her a little grin of his own.

Suddenly a car horn blared a little bit down the street. (y / n)´s head whirled around and she seemed to know exactly which automobile had caused the noise. "It...it was ... nice meeting you, Steve!" Suddenly she seemed a little tense and her smile, which had been just so bright mere seconds ago, had faded a little. Nevertheless, she tried to smile at him again, before it disappeared completely as she, giving him a slight wave, rushed in the direction of the car. Hardly two seconds later the dark, very chic-looking car roared past him, Steven was alone again. Still a little bewildered, he got himself out of the daze and eventually entered the post office.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days later, Bucky had managed to get him to agree to tack along in one of Buckys infamous double dates. Steven wholeheartedly detested these. The only reason he always agreed to tag along, where Buckys sad puppy eyes. 

He knew his best bud was trying so hard to make him happy. Going as far as standing up his own dates when Steven wouldn't want to go. What most of the time just ended with steve agreeing to come anyways just so the poor girl wouldn't end up completely heartbroken. Just for steve to go down exactly this path himself. 

He wasn´t even sure why it still hurt him so much when his Date would stand him up, wasn´t even slightly interested, or even straight-up ignoring him. That was what he should be used to by now, or wasn´t it? He liked to always say that he was just not good with the ladies, while his best friend seemed to literally attract them like some sort of a magnet. 

Steve felt really happy for Bucky, but sometimes it just went too far. Even for the boy with the heart of gold, sometimes enough was enough. 

Just like today! While Bucky seemed to have the fun of his life with Delila? Delia? or whatever her name had been, Steve sat alone in his seat. Marie, who was supposed to be his Date today didn't even bother to show up. Letting out what had had to be the longest and deepest sigh of the century, he took another sip out of his coke before letting the glass hit the table rather harshly. 

After a couple more minutes Steven decided to leave, this Marie friend wouldn´t be showing up after she had already been nearly two hours late anyway, so whats the use? 

Sighing again, Steve got up and slung his coat back over his seemingly too small slagging shoulders before letting his gaze wander towards Bucky and his newest acquaintances. They still seemed very busy not even being able to keep their hands off of each other, so Steve didn't hesitate before opening the door and taking a step into the strangely relieving cold breeze. Taking a deep breath he slowly began to stray back home. 

But relatively fast, his movements came to a very abrupt halt, when two men stumbled out of a dark alleyway right in front of him. He immediately noticed their guns and decided instinctively to stay back. 

But just as fast as both of them had stumbled out of the alley they were quick to disappear again. Maybe he had just hallucinated? But yet again, there was an undeniable increase of crimes around the entirety of New York, especially Brooklyn, in the last few months. Everyone knew that something must be going on, underground that is. 

So even Steve, who was a reckless man, always getting himself in dangerous situations, was begining to be more careful.

Lightly shaking his Head, Steven put his Hands into his pockets and continued his slow stroll back home.

Why should he hurry anyway? 

At home, only the darkness and the cold draft of the barely insulated walls were waiting for him anyway. Nothing anyone would think of as very welcoming, now would they?

[miracle-sham]

Stitch Your Ragged Wings and Hope to Soar.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 1, Day 5: Fairytales} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] |

| The folk tales always speak of those destined for greatness. Heroes alongside their faithful dragons, fighting the ever turning tides against evil. But they're just that, folk tales. After all, what are the chances a border-town apprentice seamstress like Marinette, would ever be offered a different vocation by the recruitment guild. |

| Word Count: 3,428. |

| Warnings/Tags: Kingdom/Fantasy/No Miraculous/Dragon Riders Au, Minor Lila & Adrien salt, Canon Typical lies and manipulation from Lila, Explicit Language/Swearing, and Some Fluff. |

———

| A/N: First things first, the word 'Dragoon' will be used multiple times in this piece and it is spelled that way on purpose (see end notes for further explanation). Secondly, yep! It's a dragon riding/academy au. This is the first piece of the series, which I'm really excited for because I've spent ages worldbuilding for! And for anyone worried about salt mention, it is addressed in this piece but the tag is there because of canon-typical Lila manipulation and lies, plus no Miraculous means no reason for Adrien with his sheltered upbringing to realise she's lying. |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

It's been a few days of tense stagecoach travel. And to be fair to Marinette, even she hadn't expected to be declared in the middle of the town square as showing aptitude for a position within the Justice League's armée volante—specifically the dragoon squadrons—thanks to the recruitment guild no less.

Unfortunately, Adrien and Lila had also shown an aptitude. Which, seeing as they all come from the same border-town of Paris, meant they were all trapped inside the same cramped coach space for the excruciating four days journey to reach Gotham Town; the place where they are being sent to attend the dragoon academy, which is technically outside the bounds of the town proper. Seeing as the Gotham Dragoon Academy and Somerset Dragon Range are on the opposite shores of the Gotham river to the town itself.

There's only another half-day until they reach the Mooney bridge and then the Somerset

Dragon Ranges. And luckily, Adrien and Lila have taken to sitting on the same bench, the one facing forwards. Leaving the opposite bench all for Marinette.

Not that having a whole bench to myself for this time will help with whether I can continue to survive as a captive audience for Lila. Marinette thinks to herself, rather disgruntled about this whole situation she's unwillingly ended up in. She was perfectly happily remaining an apprentice seamstress, sewing commissions for Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, and the rest of her famous or otherwise clientele, not that fate seemed to care though. Of course, a part of her stipulation she fought the recruiters for, is that along with her studies she can continue her commissions for current and prior clientele alone. Which is to say, better than being completely unable to continue her main hobby and form of stress relief.

The recruiters had also said that baking and cooking would be no problem to practice, as apparently there'll be free reign to "student kitchens" alongside cooking classes so any use of either skill will be "undoubtedly encouraged". Dangerous words, Marinette muses to herself once more, because if I get claimed by a dragon the first thing I'm doing is baking all the dragon dietary-safe treats I can!

“Marinette! What do you think?” Lila asks, voice as cloying as ever.

Marinette startles and half-heartedly smiles awkwardly across at her, “ah, I'm really sorry Lila! I got distracted wondering what kind all of our dragons might end up being and how they might look!” Not, I'm going to love mine regardless of appearance unlike you.

Smiling faux-sweetly, Lila shakes her head. “Don't worry Marinette, I was only saying how we're just like those local fairytales of your town! Three close-knit friends who become powerful and famous dragoon guardians and save the world from the evil destruction of Hawkmoth and his army of shadow dragons! Out of the three of us, I would be our leader, obviously. Since I'm the only one here descended from a dragoon guardian! My grandmother even gave me a token that once belonged to my dragoon guardian ancestor!”

“Wow, you've said it before but I still can't believe how incredible you are Lila! It's going to be amazing training besides you at the academy!” Adrien gushes, gazing at Lila with adoration.

Lila preens at his words. “Thank you, Adrien! But Marinette, since you mentioned what our dragons will be, did you know my ancestor's dragon was said to be the most beautiful of all the dragons in the Justice League squadrons! My ancestor's dragon had orange scales that glimmered red and yellow like flames, and pearlescent white scales along the underbelly. Oh, and the horns were pearlescent white too! Obviously, the dragon I'll get is sure to be a descendant of that dragon and just as beautiful.”

“Wow, no wonder your ancestor's dragon was the most beautiful, they sound absolutely gorgeous! What kind of dragon do you think I'll get, Lila?” Adrien asks, eyes shining with awe and curiosity.

She puts on a show of holding her chin and humming. “Hmm, probably a golden dragon, with shiny scales as bright as the sun!”

“I hope you're right!” Adrien chuckles, “the fairy tales really would be coming true if we both get the dragons you think we will! One with scales of fire, another with scales of gold!”

“It really would.” Marinette echoes weakly, not really believing in her own words.

Lila laughs, “awww don't sound so worried Marinette, your dragon will probably be a plain and drab dragon with some sort of shade of brown, or maybe even grey. But at least it won't be attention-grabbing. So you won't need to worry about people staring and judging or dragons-forbid trying to hurt you for having a prettier dragon than any nobles!”

Marinette smiles, though it turns out far more grimace-like than intended, whoops. “Yeah… that'd be awful. Haha, I'd be really lucky to get a dragon like you described for me, Lila.”

“Oh, I'm so glad you understand, Marinette! Then again, all three of us are besties so of course you'd understand!” Lila titters, crossing her fingers, “we're just like this!”

Screaming internally, Marinette nods and keeps smiling. Dragons-almighty, I'm at the end of my thread here. Hopefully, I'll be able to leave Lila's "friendship" behind at the academy without fear of mine and my parent's reputations being ruined by Lila's mother.

Her attention is briefly taken by the rolling view outside the stagecoach, unable to help herself she mumbles to herself, “the landscape here is so pretty.”

“It is pretty I guess, but not as pretty as my home country!” Lila pipes up, jumping on the new conversation—like a shadow dragon on a sheep.

Marinette shuts her eyes for a second and breathes deeply, chanting internally. The academy will be my fresh start.

———

The academy is not in fact Marinette's fresh start.

It is well past evenfall by the time their stagecoach passes through the gates of the imposing academy. It rounds a large fountain in the centre of the courtyard with a statue of a person encircled by a large dragon. However, due to the darkness and the movements of the stagecoach, any attempts at recognising whom the statue was dedicated after are thoroughly hampered. They roll to a stop before the great stone staircase—where a figure with a smaller giant rat-like creature beside them, is waiting at the top—which clearly leads to the grand front doors of the academy.

Even with the darkness obscuring the view, it's obvious that the academy is a repurposed castle. High stone walls with crenellations and littered towers, a main keep with a multitude of buildings surrounding the inner courtyard. And the most eye-catching of all, the shadowy draconic gargoyles that seem to cling and lurk upon every building.

It's impressive to say the least, certainly the most well-fortified building Marinette has ever stepped foot in her life. Impressive enough that it has her practically clawing to pull out a sketching journal and start creating. However, she's not stupid enough to do that within Lila's presence. No, that'd undoubtedly lead to honey-coated lies and being forced to listen to her prattle on about her wondrous skills and connections to the most prestigious fashion guild in the country.

Marinette startles as the stagecoach door is opened by a footman. She doesn't fuss as Lila exits first, followed by Adrien. As she steps outside last, she nods and smiles at the footman. Whispering as audibly as she can without the other two hearing, she adds, “thank you, sir.”

The footman simply glances at her attire and nods back stiffly.

In the time it's taken to all leave the stagecoach, the figure from the stairs has walked over—a woman with long blonde hair dressed in a casual black leather riding coat, and a not-dog following behind loyally. “Good evening, you must be the potential students from the town of Paris?”

Marinette hesitates for a second before nodding along with Adrien and Lila.

Lila takes a step forwards, towards the woman. “Yes, we are! I'm Lila Rossi.”

The woman nods slowly, “and the other two must be Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, correct?”

“That's correct!” Adrien responds with a bright smile.

Marinette nods and makes an affirmative squeak instead.

“Great.” The woman says, clapping her hands. “I'm Dinah Lance and I'll be one of your instructors during your attendance here. And this,” She pauses to point to the weird giant not-rat with its yellow flecked greyish-brown fur, “is Drake, he's my Ichneumon. You'll learn all about Ichneumon and why they're used within the dragoon squadron during your time here, so don't worry if you've never heard or seen of them before.”

Drake makes a high pitched trill and takes a few steps forward, sniffing the air in front of the three of them. Before scampering in a circle around Dinah Lance.

She smiles fondly at Drake before continuing. “Unfortunately it's a little late to give you the tour of the grounds now, so we'll cover that tomorrow. Tonight we'll guide you to the dining hall for a late night's meal since it's been a long journey for you three or so I've heard, and you must be starving. Then we'll discuss the main details of your attendance, and afterwards, we will show you to the temporary rooms you will be staying in, to begin with. Any questions?”

Lila rocks on the heels of her boots before shaking her head, “no, we've got no questions!”

Adrien copies with a shake of his head too.

Marinette opens her mouth to protest, were you waiting out in the cold for us long? Will the tour teach us about the different places within the academy? Will it take long? What do you mean by the main details? Why are we staying in temporary rooms to begin with? When do our lessons start? Do we need to purchase any uniforms or schooling supplies? When will we meet our dragons? Questions bubbling in her mind like a kettle over the fire, but closes her mouth just as quickly, as she catches a glare from Lila out of the corner of her eye. With that, she also briefly and nervously shakes her head. “N–no, no questions here either, Mlle Lance.”

Internally, Marinette hopes that display is enough to tide over Lila's irritation for now.

Mlle Lance glances over the three of them, seeming to stare at Marinette a little longer than the other two. “Well then, since there are no questions, let us head to the dining hall. And don't worry about your belongings, the footman will bring them to your lodgings.”

“Oh, Mlle Lance, I'd–uh… I'd rather not hassle the staff here, I can manage bringing my belongings up on my own.” Marinette admits, wringing her hands slightly.

Mlle Lance shakes her head, “that's very polite of you but I'm afraid, as you'll be having dinner and we'll be discussing details, it'll be a little while before you head to your temporary rooms. So it'll be far easier on both you and the staff here, if you allow them to do their job.”

“Okay…” Marinette relents easily, trying to ignore Lila rolling her eyes at her.

“If there are no more further questions, then follow after me please, the academy can be rather labyrinthine for those unfamiliar with its halls.” Mlle Lance instructs, already turning around and walking back towards the great stone staircase, Drake on her heels.

———

The journey through the hallways and various anterooms of the academy takes far longer than Marinette could have anticipated. On more than one occasion, she ends up falling behind due to getting distracted by the sheer amount of luxury, art, and finery everywhere. Forcing her to frantically scurry after Mlle Lance, Lila, and Adrien—all three who seem completely at home and unperturbed or uninterested by the décor, unlike her.

By the time they reach the large and ornately carved wooden doors leading to the dining hall, Marinette is flushed bright red from the embarrassment of having fallen behind so many times.

The heavy doors creak loudly as they slowly swing open at Mlle Lance's push, revealing a large dining hall—far larger than any Marinette has seen—with seemingly hundreds of wooden tables and benches. Startlingly enough, there's a boy already seated at one of the nearer benches—eating away at a trencher of hunter's stew.

No Ichneumon in sight, Marinette notes, a fellow student perhaps?

“Good evening, Jason, I wasn't expecting anyone else to be in here at the moment.” Mlle Lance greeted, nodding her head to him.

Jason squints at Mlle Lance and hunches his shoulders defensively. “B said I could grab food from here whenever I wanted.”

Mlle Lance smiles, “and that's perfectly fine. These are new arrivals, so I was just hoping to let them have some dinner without the usual chaos before going over the main details they'll need to know about attending here.” She paused for a moment. “You don't have to stay and listen if you don't want to, since you've heard this spiel many times now. But equally, feel free to stay, I'm sure it'd be nice for you and the new arrivals to get to know each other before meeting the rest of the class tomorrow.”

Jason slowly eyes Lila, Adrien, and Marinette. He places an arm in front of his trencher. “Might as well stay then I guess.”

Mlle Lance nods at him again before guiding the three of them over to the back of the dining hall where the kitchen was connected to. A few cooks were tending to various meals and pots of hunter's stew, as well as prepping trenchers or cleaning wooden bowls, and wood or horn spoons.

Marinette is still half processing everything so receiving a trencher full of hunter's stew from the cooks barely registers in her mind. And next thing she knows, she is seated next to Lila on the end of the bench and table next to Jason, with Mlle Lance sitting opposite her, Lila, and Adrien. The other two have already started tucking into the food, so cautiously Marinette takes a few sips of the stew broth with a horn spoon.

Mlle Lance clasps her hands together and rests them on the table. “Let's start with what you three already know regarding the dragoon squadrons and this academy.”

Pausing in his eating, Adrien grins. “This is the longest standing dragoon academy, and we'll be taught everything from dragon history, to the language of the dragons, to what is known of Hawkmoth and his shadow dragon army!”

“And,” Lila pipes up, “we'll pick our dragons that we'll train alongside and eventually become fully-fledged Dragoon Guardians with.”

Jason snorts, “sorry to break it you two but this isn't some fucking fairytale.”

Before Lila or Adrien could respond, Mlle Lance cleared her throat. “Right well firstly, Dragoon Guardians is somewhat of an archaic term I'm afraid. But you're not too far off with what you know.”

Rolling his eyes, Jason pretends to be suddenly interested in his trencher of stew.

Though, Marinette does catch him briefly glancing up at her with a curious but also disbelieving look in his eyes. She can't help but instinctively curl her shoulders in and make herself as small as possible.

“And Marinette, what do you know about the academy?” Mlle Lance adds.

Marinette hesitates, trembling slightly and licks her lips. “Uh, well I know roughly the same as Lila and Adrien, so nothing that hasn't been said already…”

She catches Jason squinting at her, and she curls up even more.

Mlle Lance nods thoughtfully, “to start with, Adrien, you are correct in that this is the longest standing dragoon academy. You're also correct that we teach our students dragon history—including the history of the dragoons—as well as teaching the language of the dragon. We also do teach regarding Hawkmoth and his shadow dragon army. However, that will be taught across multiple different subjects as it isn't quite as simple as it may currently seem to you.”

Adrien beams at having been mostly correct. “My father hoped I would be chosen to attend a dragoon academy so he made sure I was taught a general overview.”

“And that's more than most know to begin with, so well done.” Mlle Lance praises, before continuing. “However, Lila, here students do not pick their dragons. The process of meeting the dragon who will be raised and trained beside you, is not what most people think of when they first hear about dragoon human and dragon pairs meeting.”

Lila's lips twitch downwards in dissatisfaction and narrows her eyes slightly at Mlle Lance.

Before anything else can be said, Mlle Lance furrows her brows, “one moment students, a matter has just arisen that I need to quickly take care of.”

With that, she rises from the bench and strides out of the dining hall, shutting the door behind her as she exits.

As soon as the door shuts, Jason, with a concerned look on his face, gets up as well and walks the few steps over to Marinette's bench. Quietly, he asks, “Hey, you okay?”

Marinette swallows a breath of air thickly, and still visibly trembling, laughs nervously. “W-well I'm a little over-overwhelmed, I suppose… What with every—”

Only to slam her mouth shut as Lila wraps her arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close to her side.

“She's fine thank you,” Lila coos, “just not used to all the displays of wealth in the castle, here, isn't that right, Marinette.”

Marinette pales, eyes widening with panic and frantically nods her head. “Y-yep!”

Jason raises an eyebrow at Lila, unable to keep the slight sneer off his face as he turns ever so slightly to stare at her, “and you are?”

Lila perks up at his attention, flipping her hair back over her shoulder with one hand. “Didn't you hear Mlle Lance there, I'm Lila.” She smiles cloyingly at him and flutters her eyelashes. “I'm the daughter of a very important diplomat and one of my ancestors was an incredibly powerful Dragoon Guardian.”

Jason snorts, and rolls his eyes once more. “Right. Whatever.” He turns his attention back to Marinette and gives her a sharp nod. “What shit has the rich brat got hanging over your head?”

It clearly takes all of Lila's self-control to not immediately switch from her faux sweetness to fury. Her smile turns wooden and her gaze sharpens at Jason. “Excuse me?”

“You're excused,” Jason responds smugly.

“W-what do you mean?” Marinette asks, struggling to process the conversation after the slight cannonball that Jason just casually asked her.

He tilts his head at her, not unlike a bird. “She looks, sounds, and acts exactly like the kinda rich bastards that hold shit above kids who aren't rich, and you're clearly fucking petrified of her. So is she blackmailing you or something?”

Marinette mouths yes at him whilst shaking her head.

Jason raises an eyebrow at her for a second before shrugging with one shoulder, “alright.” He turns on his heel and heads back to his table and bench where his trencher of stew is waiting.

Lila gapes at him.

Adrien rises from his seat and stares at Jason, flabbergasted. “Aren't you going to apologise to Lila, now? You were wrong.”

Lifting his chin, Jason gives Adrien an unimpressed look then flips the bird at him. A few seconds pass before he shrugs and makes a non-committal noise of disinterest, then he starts spooning stew into his mouth.

Lila huffs and scowls at Jason. She turns to glare at Marinette, faux concern practically dripping from her words despite the evident fury on her face. “You should avoid him from now on, wouldn't want the teachers to think you're a delinquent and get kicked out before you even get to meet your dragon.”

Marinette nods slowly and keeps her attention very carefully on her food.

Her patience is rewarded as a few dozen seconds later, Lila loses interest in her and starts eating her trencher of stew whilst starting a new conversation with just Adrien.

Taking her chances, Marinette sneaks a glance up at Jason with a small smile on her lips.

To her surprise, he also happens to be looking over at her. He flashes her a cheeky grin, winks, before going back to eating.

Maybe, she muses to herself as her grin turns giddy, I was wrong about the academy not being my fresh start. Because this definitely feels like a fresh start now, it almost feels like I'm in a fairytale.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| The dragon riders are called Dragoons in reference to the mounted cavalry called Dragoons who used guns/firearms known as Dragons hence the name. And so I decided it only makes sense for these dragon riders to also be called Dragoons. Armée volante means flying army and was what the historical dragoons were sometimes known as, because of how mobile they were. |

| Ichneumon, also known as Echinemon in Medieval Zoology are enemies of dragons (and snakes and crocodiles in some accounts) and defeated them by covering themselves in armour made from mud before attacking. They are also one the only creatures (the other being weasels) that are immune to the Cockatrices' petrifying sight. |

| Fun fact: Trenchers are flat round (often stale) bread "plates" used during the medieval era. They are cut in half and sometimes the fluffy bread innards are scooped out (like pumpkins) so that the loaf's crust forms a bowl instead. Usually the bowls are used to hold stews or soups, though they were also used for non-liquid based food (which is why they later evolved into our modern day plates and cheese boards). |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

[cherripeach]

Chapter 10

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it. Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Chapter 1:5 i’m jared 19 and i never learned how to read

Warnings: Curse words, implied sex jokes

Words: 3.4k

Relationships: developing but future twstxreader

You three made it to homeroom right before the final bell rang, meaning none of you were late which was boring in your opinion. Being fashionably late especially on the first day just shows character. 

The classroom was full of caldrons like from Harry Potter but also full of lab coats like a science lab. There were also just shelves with glass covering them full of plants that you have never seen before and ones you hoped to never touch because you are 100.69% sure they can kill you. Then, there were just shelves of bottles of potions like in the movies which you also did not want to touch not for fear of death but because they could turn you into a frog or something which sounded kinda cool now that you thought about it. Still, you were not going to do it.

Your teacher, however: a hottie. He obviously knows about style and fashion if his dual colored hair and his fur coat are anything to go by. He also had a perfectly shaped face with sharp eyes that you just couldn’t look away from. The whip in his hand told you enough about his life outside of school, and the collar at the end of it also told you enough. This man was def not someone to disrespect, and ngl he could yell at you. That’s for another time; you just hoped you could stare at the man for the entire class. 

Once you and your three friends put the lab coats and goggles on and went to your seats (you assumed because Ace and Deuce dragged you there), the gorgeous man started to lecture, “I see you’re the fresh new faces who will be joining my class today.” He walked around the classroom and gazed at everyone’s figure. “Hm~ What an unusual hair color. Not bad at all, I say. Be careful not to take too long to finish, understood?” He made it to your group of seats near the back and stopped, “My name is Divus Crewel.” His gaze was caught on you for a couple of seconds until he returned to walking around the classroom, “You shall refer to me as Master Crewel, if you please.” He had the most miniscule smirk when he turned back to meet your eyes. 

You turned to Ace with your wide eyes and muttered, “Please tell me he gets you hot and bothered too.” 

Ace just glared and spat back at you, “Only you are dealing with those feelings.” 

Master Crewel clapped his hands twice, “Come, settle down. It’s time for class to begin. First off, a few disclaimers.” 

The entire class ceased the side conversations, and you even placed the weight of your chin on your hands with your elbows on the desk so you could balance your newfound crush for him.

The magnificent man just lightly placed the edge of the whip on his desk, “I shall have your tiny brains remember hundreds of names of medicinal herbs and poisonous plants. And mushrooms are a whole different topic. I’ll have you remember them so that you don’t accidentally poison yourself if you eat some when you go for a walk. Dogs love to eat anything they see, after all.I don’t want to see anyone getting a failing mark during the exam, so I shall be as strict as I can.”

You don’t even remember what he was saying, but you just nodded the entire time. This was a class you knew you were going to stay awake in. Your eyes were still stuck on his figure, and you knew just from looking at him that you may not have a failing grade because you bet you were going to ask for help. 

Your three idiots were seemingly having a conversation next to you while your brain was stuck in your fantasies of after school tutoring. 

Your mind was stuck in your fantasy until the end of class when someone had to use his textbook to smack the back of your head, “Ouch!” You spun around only to find Grim and Ace behind you with a textbook in Ace’s hand. 

 Grim snickered out behind you, “You deserved that, Prefect. Even I, the Great Grim, was paying more attention in this boring class.” By the end of the sentence he sighed all of it out. 

“Come on. Let’s not be late.” Deuce grabbed his stuff and motioned to your group to leave. 

You lightly and neatly put up your lab coat and goggles because male Cruella De Vil was still situated at the front of the class, and you had to look good in front of him. 

“Have a great day!” You gushed out while frantically waving at the man to give him a proper farewell. 

Ace slapped your hand down once you exited the room, “Can you please stop? It’s getting real disgusting.” 

You blew a raspberry at him while the four of you were on your way to your next class, “Oh, shut up and let me be a simp.”

“A what? You know what I’m ignoring you.” Ace shook his head and sighed at your comments. 

The conversation stopped after that when you began to make your way up stairs to get to your next class. You had to go up two flights of stairs which ended with you leaning along a wall, red-faces, and out of breath by the middle of it. 

“Hurry up, supervisor,” Deuce advised. 

You hissed, “Shut up.”

The three of you arrived at your next class which Decue said was “something-something history.” And you were actually kind of excited because you have no clue what has happened in this world, and it is gonna be so different with magic and everything.  

You three took seats near the middle of class, so all of you could still concentrate but still talk some. This class room was structured much more like a lecture hall than the past one with a chalk board at the front behind a teacher desk and desks being on different platforms going up, and so your group had to go up a couple of stairs to get to where you claimed were your seats. 

The class all took their seats and shut their mouths once an older man without a uniform came into the classroom carrying a cat. 

The cat had your full attention for this class because you now have the human desire to pet and love the cat as one should. 

Once the professor sat down with the cat on his lap, he introduced himself, “I am Trein, the professor in charge of Magical History. And this is my familiar, Lucius. I shall have you learn the history behind the magic that you are using now.”

Lucis, the cute little black cat who had a hint of white on his front right under his head, confirmed Professor Trein’s previous statements with a “Meow.”

It took a couple of seconds for you to process the Professor’s words, but once you did you turned to Deuce who was located to the left of you and blurted out, “Wait, is Lucius a real cat? What's a familiar? Can I not pet him? OMG, what if he can understand what I’m saying. That cannot be it-”

Professor Trein cut you off midway with another Lecture (Deuce was just gazing at you with disappointment in his eyes), “I do not only grade by your reports, but also by how you behave in my classroom. I will not tolerate sleeping in class. Now then, please turn to page 5 of your textbooks. This is related to the magic stone that was discovered inside the Dwarf Mines.”

You were taken aback by everything, but you also realized that you did not have a text book. You didn’t even have a book bag or pens, so you turned to Deuce to only flutter your lashes and pout at him until he shared his textbook with you and gave you lose leaf and a pen. 

Lucis decided to bring his voice into the conversation, “Meow.”

“The discovery of this jewel led to magical energy being able to spread worldwide. It could also be considered as the 1st year magic was made possible.” Professor Trein continued his lecture, and you were actually actively taking notes because this was like some wack anime and you had to know the full plot line.

“Meow.”

Ace yawned into his hand when you gazed at him. 

And Deuce was taking notes but his eyes were also beginning to close, “Oh…! The Dwarf Mines, huh… Oh…! Magical energy, huh…” You had to kick him to keep him awake.

Grim rested his head on the desk, “Ugh… I want a more explosive and flashier magic class!”

You could only sigh at the three idiots not paying attention while your pen kept on writing. 

By the end of the class and the lecture was over, all three of the spots next to you were occupied with asleep idiots. You put your stuff into your pockets and got up to nug Grim on his shoulder for him to wake up. His head slowly lifted up with his eyes still closed, so you decided to just carry him to the next class. He was in your arms by the time you got everything together and moved onto the other two idiots asleep. 

You kicked Deuce in the calf who jumped up immediately and rushed to get everything together, and then moved onto Ace to pull his hair. Ace stayed still until you found a certain spot of hair closest to his neck and pinched it and tugged on it. That had him reaching for your hand to stop your actions and had him awake and ready to move. 

“Get up, class already ended.” You let go of his hair to move to the walkway of the classroom. 

Ace shook his head to wake himself further up, “Okay.. but why did you have to pinch me so hard?”

“Were you gonna wake up by yourself?”

“No.”

“I think you see my thought process, then.” You shrugged your shoulders while the two remaining boys got their things together. After that all three of you were off to your next class, causing you to walk down stairs and through hallways until the three of you made it to a field outside.

The boys made you drop off your stuff, which wasn’t much anyway, and Grim in order to go and change into a P.E. uniform. Apparently, in the locker room, there were some extra uniforms for you to change into. 

The locker room stunk of mold and fungus from somewhere in the corners of the room, but Deuce led you to a bin of uniforms. He just pulled the first one from the pile and gave it to you. It was a bright green shirt with a dragon or lizard on it. Then, he gave you a black jacket with yellow stripes on the sleeves and a pair of pants with a faded royal purple stripes on parts of the pants. Seems were also ripped out of certain parts of the uniform with most of the colors being lightly faded. Looking at the uniform as a whole, it was definitely going to be too large on you. 

You thanked Deuce while he was walking away to the right side of the locker room, and then, you got moving. You observed the locker room to see if there were any bathrooms and to your luck, toward the back there was another door which led into the bathroom. You entered the next room to find no line and no one in the last stall. On your way to the stall, you passed up a bulky male with silver-white animal ears on his head in a yellow uniform who was washing his hands. You set foot in the final stall to only find the toilet flooded and writings all over the wall, causing you to let out a sigh and shut and lock the door just happy you did not have to use the restroom. 

Once dressed, you took your cloak and other clothes and walked out of the stall to wash your hands. Looking in the mirror was not on your to-do list, so you kept your eyes stuck on the faucet and your hands because the headache from the rat’s nest on your head and the slight pain from parts of your face gave you all the information you needed. You left the restrooms and found a deserted area where many lockers were empty. You threw your clothes in one of the middle lockers, closed it, and took account of the number of the locker. 

You left the locker room to see that you were one of the final people to get dressed and get out of the locker room. Grim, Ace, and Deuce were seated on the ground near the back of the group, and you made your way to them with many different eyes on you. 

The hulking man blew his whistle to get everyone in the class and started a speech, “I’m Vargas and I’m in charge of watching over your physical education.Excellent magic starts with excellent bodies! Behold…! These muscles that I train every day! A magician with no stamina is unspeakable! First, do 20 laps around the field! And then, 100 sit-ups!” He blew the whistle again and threw his pointer finger out the motion for you all to start your laps.

The three of you jumped up from your spot on the ground and slowly walked over to the track. 

Ace grimaced at the teacher, “Eh… I don’t hate exercise, but I can’t handle teachers like him.”

“I have confidence in my physical abilities,” Deuce had his hands on his hips and was twisting his torso around to stretch it. 

Grim shook his head, “What's so fun about running around? I’m not a hamster, yanno?”

You just sighed and joined the group of students starting to run. Ace, Deuce, Grim, and you slowly joined the middle of the group in a jog around the field. 

You were left pondering for a second about everything and anything and your mind went straight to how you could get out of the stuffy cloak because even if you did look like an adventurer you could not stand to wear it in the heat all the time. So you started up a conversation:

“Yo, Deuce,” You bumped arms with him, making Deuce’s eyes slowly drifted to your figure, “Do you know where I could get a school uniform? Is there like a store or something nearby?” 

Deuce contemplated your question for a couple of seconds until he snapped his fingers, “There is a shop on campus that has everything. We could stop there after school today.” 

“Well, that’s one thing covered,” Your feet were still in a constant jog, but they started to cramp in some areas, “I hope they have a clearance section.” 

The rest of PE was much more strenuous than you expected. This teacher thought that all of you were Olympic Athletes with all the work he is making you do, but looking at some of the students here (the green shirt-green haired fellow who is racing down the track whenever possible and the furry male who you saw in the bathroom earlier). Everyone was doing better than you. Even Grim. 

However, the exercises were soon over and you were all allowed to go back to the locker rooms and change. You were for now stuck lying on the ground wheezing from the physical activities you just completed in the past hour. Ace and Deuce went back to get changed and Grim is asleep on the grass behind you. 

“You okay?” A male’s voice could be heard from somewhere above you, but you were too drained to even move your eyes to see who it was. 

You groaned, “Don’t mind me. I’m just slowly decaying.” 

The male was speechless for a second and did not respond until your eyes fluttered open the slightest bit, “Do you want water? Or the nurse?” 

“No, oh gracious savior, but I’d rather you leave me here to be eaten by the birds.” You shut your eyes, listening to Grim groan besides you.

“Um...okay. Please get better,” The male’s footsteps could be heard walking away. 

You stayed there for about another hour in your head just trying to breathe in and out and maybe even fall asleep until a kick was landed on your side. 

“Get up, you lazy ass.” Ace was blessing you with his presence and his torment.

You hurled your body forward and up to grip Ace’s foot which was making its way to your side again, “Don’t you have a sense of common courtesy to not kick someone when they are dying?” 

“You aren’t dying, but you are wasting our break time.” Ace groaned and pulled his foot out of your grip, “So go get dressed.”

Rolling your eyes, you gathered yourself and stood up to make your way back to the changing rooms. You left Grim to be with Ace, so you hoped those two would not cause problems. The rest was a lack of oxygen and lack of water blur until you found your three idiots out in the hallway and began your track to your next class. You decided to take your time a little because you had a ten minute break before the next class. 

Deuce was looking around the hallways for the next class, “Let’s see, the next class is..”

Ace was pouting next to you, “For a magic school, it doesn’t really feel that much different from a normal school, huh… It’s a lot more… ordinary than I thought… Guess I don’t have to worry much even without magic.” His body shifted to turn to your side, “Dontcha think so, too, Grim? Hm…” 

You gazed at where Grim last was which was to the left of you and let your eyes focus and blink for a couple of seconds, “Are you fucking kiddin me?”

A gasp was heard from Deuce in front of you, “Look outside the window! That fluffball running in the Courtyard…” He pointed out Grim’s exact spot in the middle of the large area. 

Once you began your sprint to him, you could hear him cackling about how he did not deserve to listen to boring lectures all day. 

You stopped your run when you realized that you would never be able to make it farther due to PE kicking your butt, “If I have to go to school, then, so does he.”

Deuce and Ace were arriving right behind you.

Deuce crossed his arms, “Running away on the first day…” He shook his head, “That guy just doesn’t learn, huh.” 

“Being negligent on the first day, are we? So, d’ya want us to help you catch Grim?” A smirk bloomed on Ace’s face. 

You scrunched your nose, “If I have to be here, then so does he.”  threaded your hands together and squeezed your eyes shut and bowed, “Please, please help me.”

“I want some chocolate croissants from the canteen!” 

Deuce blurted in agreement, “Then, I shall have some caf�� latte from the cafeteria.”

You rose from your bow, “Perfect, perfect. Thank yooou!!” not even thinking about how you were going to afford that. 

Ace and Deuce pulled their magic pens out of their pockets and joined each other in front of you to start their hunt for Grim. 

Ace smirked at Deuce, “And that’s a deal! Alright, shall we go help out our helpless prefect, Deuce-kun?”

Deuce narrowed his eyes and rolled back his sleeves of his jacket, “Sure thing, Ace-kun. I’m most looking forward to lunchtime.”

“I’ll be in the classroom once you catch him.” You waved the two off while they began their hunt for the cat. 

By the time you made it to your next class, the three showed up with sweat dripping from their faces, their clothes in disarray, and the teacher right behind them. 

This would surely be a great year.

[holycafe]

Preview for Just Friends ch23

Hey @legendarilymessedup you said you were after something to cheer you up, so I hope this helps <3 and I hope your night gets better.

And for anyone who hasn’t read the first 22 chapters and wants to give it a go, you can find the fic here on AO3. It’s a fake-dating slowburn fic where Barry doesn’t realise he’s actually in a fake relationship. Lots of shenanigans.

.

Len felt like he was dreaming.

He had Barry in his arms; finally, after hours of worrying, Barry was safe. That alone would have been enough to make him smile. Even if Barry had shot Len down, broke off their real-fake-relationship, and crushed Len’s heart, he still would have been happy to get Barry back home to his team, safe and sound.

But none of that happened.

Instead…

Instead, Barry loved him.

Those three words swam around and around in Len’s head, playing on repeat and blocking out everything else.

Barry was kissing him, and Barry loved him.

“–Err… Snart?–” Iris’ voice said through the comms in his ear, and Len groaned in annoyance as he broke the kiss. “–Hate to break up the party, but I can’t keep Eddie hanging around outside forever–” Barry looked confused – and extremely cute, even covered in mud as he was and sporting a serious split lip and bruised jaw – by Len suddenly pulling away. So, Leonard shook his head, pressing a reassuring kiss to Barry’s cheek and gesturing towards the earpiece. Cisco’s comms unit was about as covert as they came, so Len knew Barry couldn’t see it. But he understood anyway, nodding and taking a step back out of Len’s arms.

For a moment, Len began to panic that the kid was going to freak out again. Kissing Len in front of the Rogues was one thing, but doing it while Team Flash was listening in was an altogether different matter. It didn’t make a difference to Len, of course… but it surely would to the Scarlet Speedster.

Len tensed, preparing himself as he expected Barry to pull away and leave again…

But Barry just stooped down to the floor and picked Len’s cane up. When he stood back up again to pass it over, he was smiling; his green eyes shining happily beneath the mud, and blood, and bruises covering his delicate skin.

Len kissed him once more, grinning while Barry laughed against his lips.

“Get a room, would you?” Scudder muttered, having roused again after the fight. Rosa had been awake for a while, sullenly silent. However, Len was only paying them the bare minimum of attention, trusting Lisa and Mick to keep their enemies under control. Which was exactly what Lisa did, kicking Sam sharply in the shin until he grunted and shut up.

“–Seriously, Snart!–” Iris said, impatient. “–Eddie doesn’t know about the two of you, and I don’t think Barry would want him to find out by him just accidentally walking in on you guys mid-make out–”

Len groaned again and pulled away from Barry once more.

“Fine,” he drawled, his fingers brushing against Barry’s as he finally accepted the offered cane. “Send Eddie in.” Barry straightened up a little bit at the drop of the detective’s name, looking a little nervous. He cast a look over his shoulder and then seemed to altogether freeze.

Len attempted to follow Barry’s line of sight, trying to figure out what was wrong before it could bite them in the ass… but there appeared to be nothing there. The area of the room that Barry was running his eyes over was completely empty.

But then, that was apparently the problem.

“Where’s Shawna?” Barry asked, sounding worried enough that it made the hairs on the back of Len’s neck rise.

Mick shrugged before grunting out an answer. “She and Mardon poofed out of here while you ‘n’ Snart were playing tonsil hockey.” He paused for only a moment before grumpily adding: “Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

“Oh, crap,” Barry muttered quietly under his breath. Len wanted to ask what was wrong, wanted to raise his hand to cup Barry’s face and force him to make eye contact again, wanted to hold him and assure him that – whatever it was – they could get through it. Together.

But then Eddie Thawne entered the room, cautiously with his gun drawn but not aimed. Len waited and watched as the detective gave Barry a smile and a pat on the shoulder – his hand coming away covered in mud from Barry’s clothes, making Len look down at himself, realising that he too was coated in the stuff now. He supposed he could come up with something to explain that away though if he needed to.

Eddie moved to arrest Barry’s kidnappers, keeping a cautious birth from Mick who was still non-too-happy to be working with a pig… not that Len blamed him. And while the detective’s back was turned, Len quickly holstered his cold gun and used his now-spare hand to lead Barry out of the room.

Or maybe ‘to be led by Barry out of the room’ would be a more accurate description. Because, although Len gave the first subtle nudge towards the door, it was Barry who ended up offering Len a shoulder to – literally – lean on as they walked. Because now that the adrenaline of the fight was wearing down, his injured thigh was beginning to burn with a white-hot fury again from overuse. Len gritted his teeth as he limped away from the scene, putting far too much weight on his cane, and possibly squeezing just a little too harshly on Barry’s shoulder. And, Christ, Len wished that he could focus on that. He wished that he could lose himself in the moment and revel in the closeness of Barry’s body and the intimacy that they were finally sharing after all these months of being so completely oblivious to their feelings for one another.

But the look in Barry’s eye and the worried set to his bruised and bloodied lips reminded Len that nothing was ever that simple. Not for him.

Once they were outside in the fresh air, Barry took a deep breath and sighed up at the grey clouds above while Len took the comms piece out of his ear, wanting some privacy.

“What’s going on?” he asked, and Barry’s shoulders drooped as he turned to face Leonard.

“Shawna nearly got shot,” Barry explained, and Len nodded. He’d seen Sam fire the gun at her, but he’d also seen her get out of the way as the bullet drove straight into the wall behind them. He didn’t understand what was wrong here, but Barry’s anxiety only seemed to have grown. “I had to use my powers to save her.”

Ah.

‘Oh, crap’ was right.

“I’ll talk to her,” Barry quickly reassured him, and Len nodded. He was going to offer his company, but he could already see the answer to that question in Barry’s eyes. This was something that he felt like he needed to do alone, and Len could understand that. He knew that he wasn’t the most welcoming of people; he was often cold, and people could find it difficult to talk freely while he was around. Barry would have a much easier time talking to Shawna and Mark if Len wasn’t there.

Len could understand that, but he didn’t have to like it.

“Wear something Cisco can track,” he said. After all, Len had only just got Barry back, he didn’t want to lose him again. Not now. Not ever.

Barry smiled and nodded and looked like he was about to go in for another kiss. But then the door behind them opened again. Barry just about managed to stop himself before it was too late as Eddie Thawne walked out, leading the now-handcuffed Rosa Dillon and Sam Scudder towards his police cruiser. Len tensed his jaw in annoyance, wishing that they could just stop getting interrupted already.

“You’re pouting,” Barry laughed, and Len mustered up a glare. But they both knew there was no real ice behind it.

Barry’s grin softened around the edges as they stared into each other’s eyes. He still looked as though he wanted to lean in for a kiss. But, instead, he reached out and casually adjusted the hood on Len’s parka, his fingertips brushing softly against the skin on Len’s bare neck.

“I have so much I need to tell you,” he said, his voice so soft-spoken and yet so raw. Len yearned to reach out and touch him, to hold his hand, to kiss his cheek. But he couldn’t. They were already pushing their luck here with the gentle way that Barry was fixing his coat, and Len knew that anything more would surely give away their game to Detective Thawne.

This wasn’t exactly the first time that Len had needed to resist the urge to touch Barry. Yet, somehow, the weight of their physical separation felt heavier now that he knew Barry loved him back. Now that he knew the desire to hold and be held was mutual.

Len stared across into Barry’s beautiful green eyes, marvelling at how gorgeous he was. Even coated in mud – which Len would really need to get the story behind later – and bruises and his slowly-healing split lip… he was beautiful. Len wondered how he’d ever got so lucky as for Barry Allen to fall in love with him. And it was lucky. No matter how much heartbreak Len had felt this past few days, it was all worth it to just be able to look into Barry’s eyes and have him look back as though Len was his whole world.

Barry bit nervously against his bottom lip and then winced as the movement reminded him of the cut that he was still sporting there. Len raised his hand instantly to Barry’s face wanting to soothe his discomfort away. But he had to stop himself before he could cup Barry’s jaw and run his thumb along Barry’s lip. His hand uselessly hovered there for a moment, inches away from Barry’s face, before Len balled it back into a soft fist and dropped to his side once more.

“Oh, fuck it,” Barry breathed out, Len’s only warning before he stepped forward that last few inches and collided their mouths together again. Barry was holding on tighter to the fur of Len’s parka now, using it to pull Len forward even though there was no more ‘forward’ for Len to go.

Len wrapped his arm around Barry’s waist and buried his fingers into the back of his shirt, not even caring that the thick layer of mud there was still very much damp. Len couldn’t care less that he was getting covered in mud, not so long as Barry was the one behind it. Barry’s tongue skirted against Len’s, pushing and taking and driving him insane. Len chased the kiss, holding on for as long as he possibly could.

But eventually, they both had to come back up for air. And when that moment came, Len closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together, and did everything he possibly could to pretend that they were alone.

Another moment passed before Barry pulled away from Len’s touch and turned to face the music. Len followed Barry’s gaze, and their movement was enough to catch Detective Thawne’s attention. He had been leaning against the hood of his police cruiser, appearing as though he was doing his best not to pry on Barry’s moment with Len while he attempted to get a meaningful conversation out of Mick. Len didn’t have to imagine how that endeavour was going.

But now that Barry and Len had pulled apart again, Thawne stood up straight and gave Barry a reassuring smile.

Barry was definitely relieved to see Eddie wasn’t looking overtly angry or uncomfortable about their latest act of PDA. And Barry’s happiness made Len happy in return. Barry looked back up to Len and smiled nervously.

“Could I borrow your bike?” he asked. “I really don’t think I should wait much longer before I track down Shawna, but I can’t exactly go running off right now.”

“You can, actually,” Len corrected. “Mick and Lisa already know you’re the Flash.” Expectedly, Barry frowned at that, so Len shrugged. “Ask Cisco about it.” Because Len couldn’t have answered any questions about it if he’d wanted to. He was still very muggy on those particular details.

“Oh, okay,” Barry nodded, taking the revelation in stride. “I… uh… I’ll see you tonight?” he asked, sounding hopeful in a way that made Len’s stomach do little happy flips.

“I hope so.”

Barry nodded again, looking as though he was going to step away. But at the last second, he leant back in and pressed a sweet kiss on Len’s cheek. Then Barry backed up, heading towards the where the bikes were parked. The second that he was out of sight of the police cruiser and the criminals handcuffed inside, he slipped into superspeed and ran away.

[merakiaes]

How The Tables Turn - Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: Sorry if this is plain and boring. Hope it was what you wanted and that you like it <3

Wordcount: 3061

Summary: Growing up, Tommy never saw you as anything other than a sister and a friend. Until one night, when everything changes. 

Buddy, chum, comrade, mate, brother, kid. Only a few of the many, painfully deriding and mocking nicknames you got to hear from Tommy every single day, as you had been for the past fifteen years.

You had met when you were twelve and he was fourteen. You were new to Small Heath and didn’t have a very easy time making friends as you were… well, let’s just say that you were the one getting into trouble and dragging him along, also earning yourself the nickname ‘Missy Mischief’.

The last one, you didn’t mind much. It was all fun and games. But the other ones weren’t as fun, especially not when you were hopelessly in love with him.

You followed him and his brothers around every day after meeting them for the first time. Eventually, you were all so close they considered you as their sister. Tommy, too, much to your dismay.

Hell, even John and Arthur would switch it up with a “little bird”, “darling”, “princess”, “love” or “sweetheart” every once in a while. That’s more than you could say about Tommy, and still, it was only his lips you wanted to hear those names coming from.

You were fifteen and seventeen when you first shared your first romantic moment, getting a bit too drunk at the Garrison and ending up making out in the alley behind the pub. 

But the next morning, it was all forgotten in his case, and the next day he ran off and lost his virginity to someone else.

After that, you pretty much gave up the idea of ever ending up in a romantic relationship with Thomas Shelby. You stopped saving yourself for him and started seeing other men.

He didn’t even bat an eye, so you guessed it was just never meant to be and moved on.

You were now twenty-nine, and he was thirty-one. You didn’t have a job. Not a real one, anyways.

For the most part, you just helped out in the betting shop. And when you weren’t doing that, you were watching John’s kids or teaching Finn to read and count as his brothers had pulled him out of school with the increase of danger coming with the business. 

Tonight, a formal party was being held following a major race, and since you were with the Shelbys, you were expected to attend.

Every other time an event like this one had taken place, you hadn’t gotten much time to think much about your appearance with the way you were running around with the brothers. 

Hanging around them all of the time had resulted in you taking on a rather masculine sense of fashion, or a masculine outlook on it, at least.

In other words, you didn’t care much for expensive jewelry and fancy dresses, usually just ending up dressed in some cheap, old dress to save time.

But today Ada and Polly managed to steal you away and take you to the dressmaker with them, saying it was about time you started dressing in a way that flattered your already gorgeous body. Ada’s words, not yours.

In all honesty, you had never really given much thought to how you looked. You knew you were attractive, that’s all it was to it, basically. 

Why should you waste time worrying about your hair or your clothes when you weren’t interested in romance? Seeing as that was the major reason for women caring about their looks in the first place.

You grumbled under your breath as the dressmaker tightened the fabric around your waist, finding the tight feeling uncomfortable in comparison to the loose, basic dresses you usually wore.

But Ada’s mood wasn’t nearly as pessimistic as yours, the younger girl basically bouncing on the spot and clapping her hands as she gave you a once-over.

“Oh, how exciting!” She squealed, her eyes sparking with happiness at finally getting to give you the makeover she had dreamed about giving you for so many years. “Tommy won’t be able to take his eyes off of you!”

Your eyes narrowed when hearing those words leave her lips. You turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow. “Why would I care about what he thinks, exactly?”

Polly chuckled, and through the mirror you could see her shaking her head where she stood behind you, already dressed in an elegant black dress. “Oh, darling.” She smiled, looking at you with a secretive look.

But Ada wasn’t about holding back, declaring loudly with a bright smile on her lips. ”You’re in love with him, of course!”

Your body froze slightly at the mention of Tommy and love in the same sentence, feelings you hadn’t dwelled upon for years pricking the surface.

You quickly pushed them back down with a scoff and a nervous laugh. “What? No.” You cleared your throat. “I mean, it’s no secret I used to be. But that was a long time ago.”

Polly raised an eyebrow at you through the mirror, crossing her arms over her chest in an almost challenging way.

“Mhm.” She hummed, sharing a glance with Ada that made you narrow your eyes in suspicion again. But they said nothing else, Ada changing the subject while the dressmaker finished your dress.

An hour and a half later you were being helped out of the car by Finn, your hair wavy and pinned back to perfection and your blue, velvet, strapless dress covered by a long white fur coat to protect your bare arms from the chilly evening air.

You offered the youngest of the Shelby siblings a gentle smile as he helped you down the final step. “Thank you, Finn.”

He smiled back, and you squeezed his hand slightly before letting go, pulling your coat tighter around your form to shield yourself from the gust of air pulling through.

Together with Finn, Ada and Polly, you walked up the thin gravel path leading to the big, fancy mansion the party was being held in.

Tommy, John and Arthur had gone ahead together, having to arrive in time to greet other important people, while you got to take your time.

Upon entering the house, the sound of soft jazz music, chatting voices and laughter instantly reached your ears, and two varlets were ready by the front door to relieve Ada, Polly and yourselves of your coats.

The man taking your coat was younger than you by several years by the looks of it, but older than Finn, probably somewhere between twenty and twenty-three.

You noticed the way his eyes seemed to linger on your chest slightly when taking your coat. You raised an eyebrow at him, the corner of your lips tugging upwards slightly, and he instantly cleared his throat, adverted his gaze and hurried off to the coatroom.

“Well, you already seem to be attracting attention to yourself.” Polly mused, coming up beside you, pulling her white silk gloves up to her elbows.

You could only chuckle ad shake your head. “I feel like I’m wearing lingerie.”

Ada came up beside you, linking her arm with yours. “It’s called fashion, (Y/N). I would teach you all about it if you just stopped running around shooting people with my brothers for once.”

“There, there, Ada.” Polly chuckled, the apples of her cheeks round and full as she smiled with amusement.

The conversation was abandoned as Polly linked her arm with yours on the other side, the three of you starting to walk towards the ballroom where everyone else was already gathered and mingling.

Heads turned to look at you left and right as you walked, both men and women ogling at the beauty of the Shelby women. You may not have been one through blood or marriage, but you sure were one through association and that was just as honorable in your eyes.

Tommy was standing around in the ballroom with Arthur and John, talking to some high-sitting politician that he, to be frank, didn’t give a flying fuck about, when you entered.

Arthur was the first one to notice you, and he instantly slapped John on the chest, causing him to look in the same direction, as well. It wasn’t an unusual sigh to see Polly and Ada getting dressed up for events, but they had never seen you in a dress like that.

Noticing their sudden change of behavior, Tommy gave them a bored look, taking in the way their eyes were wide open and their lips pulled into proud smirks, and couldn’t help but wonder what they were looking at.

He turned his head around, followed their line of sight, and when he caught sight of you, he felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest.

Never in his life had he seen you as more than his forever-loyal little sister. He had never looked at you and felt any kind of romantic and sexual attraction for you. Never.

But with only one look at you now, reality came crashing down on him and he realized, he had been lying to himself his entire life, living in denial.

He could barely recognize you without your hair out of your usual messy-bun, dirty cargo pants and equally as dirty combat boots.

Your hair now was styled in perfectly symmetric waves, pinned back by sparkling diamond clasps, with long, dangling diamond earrings hanging from your ears to match. He realized then, that he hadn’t even known you had your ears pierced.

Your bright eyes were framed by your long lashes, even longer now with the makeup Ada had forced onto you, and the dress. God, the dress. It revealed dips and curves he hadn’t even known you had.

The blue satin hugged your body perfectly and had a slit up to the middle of your right thigh, revealing the edge of your black stay-ups.

For the first time in probably ever, he saw you for the woman you were and not the boyish girl you had never been. And he was absolutely stunned, breathless, at loss for words.

“Bloody hell.” Arthur was the first to break the silence, and John followed closely with a low whistle, twirling the toothpick around between his lips and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Who could’ve thought little bird could clean up that nice, eh, Tommy?”

John shoved his elbow out to nudge his older brother but was met only with air as Tommy was already excusing himself from the man they had been talking to and pushing his way through the crowd in your direction.

You had managed to snatch yourself a flute of champagne from a waiter passing by and was standing around sipping on the golden liquid, chatting quietly with Ada and Polly in waiting for the boys to seek you out when they got the time.

You were looking around, chuckling at a joke Ada had told about one of the men standing by nearby, when the girl in question suddenly nudged your side.

“Incoming.” She said, nodding forward.

Turning to follow her line of sight, you spotted Tommy coming your way, looking as handsome as ever with freshly groomed hair and a suit that looked to be more expensive than your entire attire all together.

Polly and Ada each placed a hand on your shoulders in goodbye before slipping off, leaving you to it.

You expected him to hug you, slap your back and greet you with a “Nice of you to join us, kid” like he usually did, but instead, he gingerly picked up your free hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles without ever breaking eye contact.

“My lady.” He greeted in a low voice, coming back up to his full height, but not letting go of your hand.

Your heart was left hammering in your chest at the unexpected act of affection, your ears burning hot. But you kept your composure, simply lifting an eyebrow.

“My lady?” You questioned, lifting the flute of champagne to your lips to take a small sip before continuing. “That’s new.”

He matched your expression, his eyebrows shooting up in a teasing manner. “Would you rather I call you mate?”

You rolled your eyes at his mocking retort, pulling your hand out of his and looking past him to scan the crowd. “No.” You declined. “No, I would not.”

You took another sip of your drink, eyes roaming the room and taking in the different faces. Tommy was quiet for a moment, but you could feel his gaze burning into his face.

The intensity of his stare was starting to make your skin crawl. Not because you were uncomfortable, but rather because the feelings you had been trying to push back for the man standing before you for so many years were flooding back so quickly.

He barely had to do anything, and it made you ashamed that you were still so whipped for him, after all this time of being neglected and seen merely as one of his siblings.  

“Do you dance?”

Having gotten so lost in your thoughts, you jumped at the sound of his voice when he suddenly spoke again.

It was funny. You were an honorary member of one of the fastest growing organized crime gangs in all of England, had been under gun-point countless of times without as much of batting an eye at the barrel shoved into your face, and still you managed to get scared just by being spoken to.

The ridiculousness of the entirety of it almost made you laugh out loud, but you kept it in, only letting out a quiet snort and letting your eyes turn back to Tommy’s.

“You would think after fifteen years of friendship that you would know how bad of a dancer I am.” You mused, looking into his baby blues through your lashes.

His confident smile almost seemed to falter for the shortest of moments, but he quickly recovered, taking a step closer to you and lowering his voice. “I’m just going to have to take you out tomorrow night and teach you, then, aren’t I?”

The question fell from his lips more as a statement than anything, and had your eyes growing wide with disbelief. “Thomas, are you asking me out on a date?” You asked, not even bothering to hide the shock in your voice.

He looked at you, eyes just as collected as always. “I believe I am.” He answered, his voice calm and even. “But then again, it depends…”

“Oh? On what?” You inquired, the shock now wearing off and being replaced with a mixture of complete joy and a little bit of… power? Yeah, power. You felt powerful having caught his interest and having him so captivated.

He hummed, the corners of his lips tugging upwards slightly. “Whether or not you’re accepting.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, a constant smile playing at your lips.

You thought you had forgotten all about the romantic feelings you once harbored for him. But as is appeared, they had never gone away, only been denied because of the constant rejection. 

“I believe I am.” You hummed back finally, never breaking eye contact.

You watched the small tug of his lips turned into a full smile and a moment of silence fell over the two of you, the only sounds being heard being the music and distant chatter.

But then he took yet another step closer to you, grabbing a hold of your upper arms, his warm hands starting to rub ginger circles on your bare skin. “You look beautiful, (Y/N).” He said suddenly.

The mere feeling of his touch was enough to make your skin erupt in goosebumps, but at the sound of the tone in his voice, you swore you could feel yourself getting weak at the knees.

“Thank you, Thomas.” You answered and let out a shaky breath when he suddenly bent down closer to your face.

He gave you an unreadable stare, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips. You had to try your hardest to control your breathing as he slowly leaned in even closer, going to close the distance between the two of you.

His lips brushed against yours, sending a spark through your entire body. His eyes started closing, and yours too, getting lost in the moment; the moment you had been waiting for for so long.

But you quickly caught yourself at that, bringing your glass up between the two of you just as he was about to press his lips to yours, staring innocently at him over the rim while then proceeding to throw the rest of the champagne back into your throat.

His face was warped up into one of shock, the calm twinkle in his eyes now something else entirely, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the feeling of power in your bones as you felt him wrapping around your finger.

All while holding his gaze, you pushed the glass into his hand and raised your own to his cheek, stroking it for a moment before giving it a pat.

“If I could wait for you for fifteen years...” You started, eyes crinkled at the corners with mischief as you leaned in closer to him, stopping yourself right before your lips made contact and scanning his face before continuing in a mocking whisper. “You can wait one day.”

You stayed right where you were for a moment, taking in the mixed emotions flashing through his eyes with a weird sense of pride, before taking a step back, giving him a curt smile and another short pat on the cheek. “Enjoy your evening, buddy.”

And with that, you left him staring after you and to be tormented by his brothers, approaching an equally as smug-looking Polly and Ada standing at the other side of the room witnessing the entire scene.

You knew he wasn’t that kind of man, but a part of you still wanted to make sure he wanted you for you and not just your dress, and therefor knew you couldn’t give in so easily.

But much to your luck, he never stopped chasing after you for the rest of his days, just like you had done up until that point. 

Oh, how the tables had turned.  

[aelia-likes-monsters]

The Bodyguard

Characters: Female Reader, Male Minotaur, Multiple other Monsters Content: NSFW/Grapefruit, Gloryhole, Voyeur/Exhibitionism, Light Domination, Bodyguard Trope, Multiple Partners, Kink Club, Oral Sex (Fetallio), Facials/Semen, Handjob, Fingering,  PIV Sex, Some Violence (non-graphic), Angst Wordcount: ~4000 Notes: A very late Kinktober story for @monster-bait​ which starts immediately with the porn then hits you with some feels. This story is super explicit, so please triple check the tags at the top before reading.

Patrons got to see this one several days early. If you want early access to many of my stories, check out my Patreon. 

The booth is small, and in another venue it might have been dingy. Here at the Velvet Room though, it’s shockingly clean despite being set up as a gloryhole. There’s a chair in one corner, a gel kneepad if you want it, and a refreshment cart near the switch that lets you toggle the lights outside indicating whether you’re servicing folks or not. Three of the walls have holes drilled in them at a few key heights, to allow anyone short or tall be serviced comfortably. You’d expect nothing less of the most exclusive kink club in town.

You take a few steadying breaths, and look over at your minotaur bodyguard in the corner. He’s large, filling the space with his bulk, his dark fur and hair fading into his black tee and jeans. In this small space, it’s already warm so he’s taken off his coat. You can see his shoulder holsters, reminding you that he has a specific job to do; he’s not here for fun. Not like you.

You offer him a wobbly smile.

“You okay?” Xavier asks. His voice is a rich rumble. He shifts in his seat, leaning forward, making the light glint off the gold bands on his horns, and the gold ring in his nose.

“Nervous,” you tell him. That word doesn’t quite do it justice, but it’s as close as you can get.

“We can just go home if you don’t want to do this anymore,” His voice is calm and even, and you want to curl up in his lap and nuzzle against him. But he’s your bodyguard, not your boyfriend, so you can’t do that. It crosses the line to unprofessional behavior, and while both of you toe the line, neither of you violate it.

“No,” You say, shaking your head. “I’m just… what if I do poorly?”

“You won’t.” The amusement fills his voice, and you can hear him fighting down laughter. Your feelings would be hurt if not what he says next. “You’re amazing at everything you put your mind to.”

His words do something to you, and you feel the heat low in your belly. You think he’s got a bit of a voyeuristic streak, though nothing he’s ever said has confirmed it. There’s just something about the weight of his gaze, the way his dark eyes watch you. You’ve noticed it before, noticed the way he looked at you wasn’t strictly professional, so you put on a show for him as you remove the tiny black dress you’ve worn to get to the club. It’s barely decent, only just hiding lingerie that you’d spent far too much on. He appreciates the show; the way he looks at it, the way he looks at you as you undress is intense.

You break eye contact to turn on the light indicating that you’re in the room and ready to service people. You’re calmer now that you’ve been reminded that you’re here because you want to be, and you can leave at any time. But you’re nervous in a different way. Xavier is watching. Xavier is watching. You fight the urge to look at him again, and instead turn to survey the available holes.

It doesn’t take long at all for an erect penis to slide through a hole in the wall. This one is human or fae, you think by the size and coloration. You reach for it tentatively, stroking it at first with your fingers, and are pleased to see it jump in response to your touch.

You glance over at Xavier and make eye contact as you tuck your hands behind your back and lick the length of the cock sticking through the wall. You tease it with your tongue, tasting it a bit before wrapping your lips around it and taking it into your mouth. You bob your head and find your rhythm, easing into a comfortable groove that pushes your partner toward their climax. It doesn’t take the person on the other side long at all; your only warning that they’re about to come is the subtle twitch of their cock and a groan from the other side of the wall. You prepare yourself for the flood of semen that inevitably fills your mouth.

They withdraw from the hole. You spit into a trashcan.

Xavier chuckles, and passes you a bottle of water. You rinse your mouth and glance around the room, but nobody else has arrived yet. So far this is entertaining, but you were hoping for a bit more. Xavier’s still just watching you, and you can see from the bulge in his pants that he’s enjoying the show.

You wonder if he’d let you touch him. If you’d be allowed to service him. It’s something you’ve thought about before, many times if you’re honest with yourself. He’s big and gorgeous, and he’s always there. You’ve admired the breadth of his shoulders, the tightness of his ass, the way he fills out a suit when he’s on formal detail, and the way he looks in casual clothes when he’s supposed to blend in with the crowd around you. You think about your fantasies, and wonder how reality would align. You’ve never been able to find out; that professional boundary has always been in the way.

Another penis slides through a different hole. This one juts upward, its green color and height tell you it’s probably a goblin. It’s uncut, darker near the tip than the base. You run your hands along it, pumping it a few times, feeling the way the foreskin moves before you take as much as you can into your mouth. Your lips stretch obscenely around it and you can’t take all of it, but you do your best. The tip hits the back of your throat, teasing your gag reflex, so you ease off some, using your hands to satisfy instead.

Two quick raps on the wall of the gloryhole are all that warn you this time of imminent ejaculation. You try to catch it in your mouth, but there’s a lot, and it ends up making a mess on your face, and spilling onto your chest. Xavier hands you a damp towel without a word, and you clean up quickly, before the next person can discover the “now servicing” light.

“Ugh,” you say with a scowl. “I paid too much for this bra to have it get crusty with strangers’ jizz.”

“Take it off then.” Xavier says. He’s far too casual with the suggestion, and it gives him away. You’re both about to cross a line, and you’re both very aware of it. Though you knew by bringing him here you were pushing that line, there wasn’t any other bodyguard you’d have been willing to bring. You hope that Xavier is as certain about this as you are, because you don’t think you can move back from this, once the line is crossed.

You remove your bra, unfastening it and flinging it aside in one smooth gesture. Xavier glances at it, and then back at you. He seems to drink in the sight of you, particularly your now bare breasts. Your nipples are already pebbled with excitement, but the way he looks at you makes them feel tighter, somehow. You bring your fingers up and caress your breasts, giving Xavier a show. He doesn’t seem to be breathing, just clenching the arms of the chair and staring at you hungrily.

Emboldened by his gaze, you slide one of your hands down along your belly and into your panties. You’re already soaking wet with need, from the weight of Xavier’s gaze, and from the cocks you’ve already serviced tonight. You part your folds and brush your finger against your clit. Even that light touch has you gasping.  

“Does that feel good?” He asks, his voice a deeper rumble than usual. You watch him watch you, see the way his gaze focuses intently on where your hand moves inside your panties.

“Yes,” you say, circling your clit slowly, drawing this out.

You see movement from the corner of your eye. Another penis has arrived. This one is different, bulbous and red. You go to touch it, but Xavier interrupts.

“Only use your mouth. Keep touching yourself,” He says. He’s got that tone of command in his voice that you reflexively listen to. It’s saved your life before, but now he’s using it for a very different purpose. “No cumming.”

An undignified whine escapes your lips. It’s completely unbecoming of a woman of your status, but here in this room you don’t care about any of that. You obey him to the best of your ability, using one hand on the wall to steady yourself, keeping the other in your panties, teasing slowly.

You rub your cheek against the cock, feeling the ridges against your skin, and the way it seems to be self-lubricated. You wonder what kind of creature this belongs to, but you’re not experienced enough to know. A careful lick ensures that it doesn’t taste awful before you begin working at it with your mouth. Kissing along the sides of the shaft, rubbing against it a bit before taking it between your lips.

You hear a groan from the other side of the wall, and you feel it press a little bit further forward. It hits the back of your throat, but you’re aroused enough at this point that you’re able to ignore your gag reflex and swallow it down. Your fingers work faster on your clit, and you’re struggling to focus on both the motion of your fingers and the penis thrusting at you. The speed of their thrusts increase as they get closer to their climax, and they become more uncoordinated. There’s two quick knocks against the wall just before they shoot their load into your throat.

Determinedly you swallow this time.

You hear a whispered “thank you” from the other side of the wall.

Xavier hands you the water bottle again. Watches as you rinse your mouth out.

“You’re so gorgeous right now.” He says. “I want to bend you over and fuck you.”

“Yessssss.” The words come out as more of a hiss than anything else as you hit your climax at the mere suggestion of him filling you. Your head falls back and you moan. Sensation washes over you, and you feel yourself clench. It’s not an earth shattering orgasm, but it’s a good start to the evening.

Xavier’s got his pants undone, his erect cock out, one of his hands working it slowly. It’s big, enough that you know it’d hit every nerve just right. If you crossed the room right now and just climbed on his lap, you could hold his horns and ride his gorgeous cock. You want it more than you’ve wanted anything before.

You slide your panties down your hips, and off, standing nude in front of Xavier for the first time, just as another penis slides through a hole.

“I could fuck this one…” you say.

He growls.

“No.” He says, his gorgeous face twisted into a scowl. He doesn’t like the idea of you fucking anyone else, though he’s still tied up enough in his role as your bodyguard that he won’t touch you yet.

“Okay.” You say, ignoring the waiting penis for a moment longer in favor of soothing Xavier. You close the gap between the two of you, running your hands over his furrowed brow. “If you don’t want to watch that, then I won’t do it.”

You lean in and rub your cheek against his, feeling the softness of his fur against your skin. He doesn’t move, doesn’t raise a hand to touch you. Not yet. But he relaxes. You feel the long exhale of tension leave his body, a gust of air over your back.

“How do you want me to serve this one?” You ask, your voice a sultry whisper in his ear.

“Just your hands.” He says, just before you feel one of his hands come up and cup your breast. Internally you sing in triumph. Large fingers tease your nipple, mimicking the way you’d touched yourself earlier. You arch into his touch, whimper softly into his ear so he can hear what he’s doing to you.

“Whatever you want,” you say, and you hope he picks up the full meaning of your words.

Slowly you pull away from him, kissing him gently before you cross back over to where there’s now two cocks waiting in side-by-side holes. One is the dark black of a shadow-being, the other looks as though it might belong to a demon. You glance at Xavier, lube up your hands, and grab both at once. You pump them carefully, to the same rhythm.

It takes just enough concentration that you don’t realize Xavier is coming up behind you until you feel him press against your back. He’s big and warm, and hard. He seems more focused on you than himself though, as his hands rove over your body. He leans down so he can nibble on your neck, scraping blunt teeth against tender flesh as one hand teases your nipple and the other slides between your soaked folds.

“I hope this is what you meant when you said whatever I want.” His lips close to your ear when he speaks, his voice rough and deep with need. He nuzzles against the spot just below your earlobe.

“Yessss.” You breathe.

His finger plunges into you, filling you as his thumb finds your clit. Your hands slow on the cocks in front of you.  It’s perfect, and you want more. You want to feel him stretch you, want to feel his hands gripping your hips as he fucks you hard. You’re so focused on the way he’s touching you and the fantasies of more, that your hands nearly stop moving. Xavier withdraws his finger. You lean into him and look up into his face, so familiar, and yet so new in this situation, silently begging him to continue what he was doing.

“Focus,” Xavier says, that stern hint of command in his voice. “If you stop, I stop.”

A whine is your only response, but you pick up your speed again, trying to split your attention between the feelings the minotaur behind you is evoking and the handjobs you’re giving. He chuckles, and you feel the vibrations of his chest against your back, just as much as you hear it. You love this, and you want more, but he’s also so wicked with this, expecting you to multitask.

Another finger slides into you, stretching your channel. You arch against him, chasing the feeling. He pumps his fingers quickly, drawing you toward your climax. You get distracted from the handjobs, and he slows once more. You whine, and are rewarded with a quick slap on the ass. You love it, and you know he must feel you tighten around his fingers.

“Keep going,” he tells you. “You’ve got a job to do, and you only get your reward if you do it well.”

You press back against him, wiggling your ass. He bites your ear and growls at you: a warning. You grin, but focus harder on the handjobs. The sooner they’re done, the better. A rapid tap against the wall warns you that your guests are nearing completion, and then one after the other they ejaculate onto you. The mess coats your hands, which you quickly press against the wall to steady yourself.

“Come for me,” Xavier growls into your ear.

You struggle to stay upright, writhing and mewling as a second orgasm overtakes you. One big arm wraps around you, and he holds you tight, playing your body expertly, drawing your climax out until you hit the point of overstimulation.

“Ah” You gasp, squirming away from his hand. “Too much.”

“Sorry.” He says, withdrawing his fingers and instead focusing on gentle kisses elsewhere for a moment.  “Stay right there” Xavier murmurs into your ear. You nod, and hold your position as he rises and moves away. He turns off the ‘now servicing’ light, and grabs some wet-wipes to clean your hands.

You’re still on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes. His erection bobs at face-level, giving you a tempting view of his cock. It’s large, but not overwhelmingly so, uncut, and thick. You hold his eyes as you lean forward and lick it. He doesn’t stop you, so, emboldened you begin to take more of him into your mouth. He reaches for you, tangling one of his hands in your hair, not pressuring you, just holding you as you work to take his entire length into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re so good at this baby.”

You want to smile, pleased by the way he seems to be melting under your ministrations, but your mouth is otherwise occupied. Instead you show your pleasure by redoubling your efforts, using your tongue and lips to tease as you increase suction, pulling him further into your mouth. You relax your throat and try to swallow him all. He groans, and you feel his fingers clench in your hair.

He pulls your mouth off his cock, spins you around and presses you against the wall, entering you from behind. From this angle he feels huge, and you know if you weren’t so wet from everything you’d been doing tonight, it might have hurt a bit, but he slides home easily. You love the way he’s manhandling you, love the way he’s rutting into you, growling in your ear about how you’re his, and he’s going to fuck you until you can’t walk. You’re relishing the feel of his huge body covering yours, the way he feels thrusting into you, and you’re so close to your climax.

Then there’s a bang just outside the door. You both know that sound.

In an instant, everything is chaos.

Xavier pushes you to the ground, covering you with his jacket. His gun is in his hand and he’s standing over you. The door is kicked open, and you’re hiding your face and ears as you hear the rapid staccato of gunshots in this enclosed space.

Quiet descends.

And then you’re in his arms, your purse and clothes shoved into your grip, but your body still only covered by his jacket. He moves fast, his eyes scanning the hallways for danger, his ears constantly pivoting. You’re quiet and still, clinging to him. He’ll keep you safe. He always does.

You’re bundled into the back of a car that’s waiting around back, one with tinted windows, bulletproof glass. The driver doesn’t ask where to go, and Xavier doesn’t have to tell him. It’s doubtless one of your family’s safehouses.

Xavier is distant, his dark eyes focused on something outside the window, and you feel like despite everything that you shared tonight, he’s further than ever from you. You crawl into his lap, tuck your head under his chin. He holds you, but it’s an automatic gesture, and you can almost feel the emotional distance as a physical pain.

You want to cry. You don’t.

You arrive at the safehouse. The one you probably wouldn’t need if your father’s “business” was actually on the up-and-up. But he’s got his fingers in a lot of pies, and ties to some sort of organized crime. Xavier gets out of the car first, checks for danger, then hustles you into the building. It’s a high-rise condo with a doorman on your father’s staff. The man nods to Xavier, indicating that everything is fine. He’s too professional to so much as look at the fact that you’re wearing nothing but your bodyguard’s coat. The two of you ride the private elevator up to the suite. The security system is still active, the locks still engaged, and you take it all as a good sign as you punch in the pin to deactivate the alarm and wait just in the foyer as Xavier checks the perimeter.

He nods, signifying it’s clear.

“I need a shower.” You say. Despite your best efforts, you hear the upset in your voice.

“Wait,” Xavier says. He catches your arm, looks at you, and you see everything he’s about to say in his face. You don’t want to hear it, but you let him speak. “This is a bad idea. I got distracted, and I nearly got you killed. We can’t do this. We can’t happen.”

“But you didn’t.” You want to shake him. You’re frustrated with Xavier, but deep down you knew pushing him was a bad idea. “It’s fine, Xavier. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to, and it’s clear that you don’t want this.”

“That’s not…” He runs a big hand over his face, dragging it up and back and through the shaggy hair on top of his head. “I do want you. So much. I probably should have gotten switched off your detail long ago, but I don’t trust anyone else to watch you like I do. And that’s why we shouldn’t… because I almost didn’t react in time.”

“It’s okay.” You lie, feeling your heart breaking as you say those words. You reach up and caress his cheek. “I’m okay, and you did save me, and I’m sorry I pushed you tonight.”

“That’s not…” Xavier growls in frustration, quickly turning away from you. He’s pacing the room, and you recognize that right now he is deeply torn.

“I think we both need a minute.” You finally say, speaking to his back. “I am going to go shower, and then I am going to bed. You can think about what you want. If you want more, join me in my bed. If you don’t, we’ll pretend none of this ever happened, and tomorrow we go back to being perfectly professional.”

He doesn’t move. You try not to let that panic you. You know he values his job, and takes pride in what he does. It’s why he’s your personal guard, and not just one of your father’s random security goons. It’s also what you like about him, and you know he wouldn’t be the Xavier you love (oh gods you do love him don’t you?) if he were willing to compromise himself for a bit of pussy. He needs time and space to come to a decision, and you need to give him that.

You grab some sweats out of the dresser--the clothes kept in safehouses are convenient and flexible, not fashionable or personalized--and climb in the shower. In there, you let the tears you’ve been holding back fall. Tonight was fun, then terrifying, and then heartbreaking. You’re worried Xavier will choose to go on maintaining his professional distance, and then you’ll have to decide if life with him holding you at arm’s length is better or worse than life without him at all.

The bed is big, plush, and cold. You feel small and alone. Anxious thoughts about all the things that you should have done differently with Xavier chase themselves around your head. Sleep eludes you for long enough that you’re tempted to leave the bedroom and find Xavier, throw yourself at him and try to change his mind.

You don’t.

You know that you can’t do that. It’s the wrong choice for a myriad of reasons.

The tears are falling in earnest once more when you hear the quiet creak of the door opening. The figure that stands there, haloed in the light from the hallway is as familiar to you as your own. He hesitates for another minute, then closes the door behind himself as he crosses the distance between the door and your bed.

“Xavier?”

“I can’t go back to watching you from across the room.” He says as he climbs under the blankets and pulls you into his arms. “I don’t know exactly what this means for my career, but I can’t do that anymore.”

“I don’t want you to.” You say, sliding your hands under his shirt so you can touch him directly. You run your hands over the area where soft fur transitions to warm human skin. He shudders and pulls you tighter against him.

“We can talk it out tomorrow,” he says, and you feel his voice rumbling in his chest as he holds you close. “Get some sleep, babe.”

You smile at the pet name, at the idea that everything is future-yous problem, and at the fact that he is here, in your bed, holding you close. You’ll talk tomorrow.

You fall asleep in his arms, feeling like everything is right with the world.

You can find all my writing on my Masterlist. Love what I do? Tip me with a Ko-Fi, and/or back me on Patreon. I also truly appreciate reblogs, likes, and comments. They keep me going. ♥

[hddnone]

Title: Feral  Square: B3 - Fetish : Causing Bruises for @mcukinkbingo Teratober2020 Day 3 : Feral Pairing: Bucky x Tony Rating : Explicit Tags: Werewolves (lupine serum), self-experimentation, sex as wolves, frottage Summary: “He was a - a wolf,” Jarvis said, his voice pitched with nerves. It was the most undone Bucky had ever heard the butler.

“Did Howard do that?” He spat the words out as he held back the bile that rose in his throat. He had to vault a set of stairs, and the gasps of the agents almost masked Jarvis' shaky sigh.

“It looked like self-experimentation.”

Bucky's genius was dumb as hell. Tony knew the odds of survival with the lupine serum and he'd gone and messed with it anyway.

Word Count: 1.7K

Here on AO3 or below the cut

“It’s Anthony.”

Bucky’s stomach dropped.

“Details,” he snapped into the phone as he sprinted for his motorcycle. He bowled over SHIELD agents left and right when they didn’t get out of his way fast enough.

“He was a - a wolf,” Jarvis answered, his voice pitched with nerves. It was the most undone Bucky had ever heard the butler.

“Did Howard do that?” He spat the words out as he held back the bile that rose in his throat. He had to vault a set of stairs, and the gasps of the agents almost masked Jarvis’ shaky sigh. 

“It looked like self-experimentation.”

Bucky cursed. “Be there in twenty.”

Twenty minutes was an impossible drive from the SHIELD base to the Stark’s country estate, but Bucky paid no heed to the traffic lights, rules, or other cars. He sped around whoever and whatever he needed to, leaving flashing sirens behind. He didn’t have to worry - Tony had been tinkering with his bike again, and he easily outpaced his chasers.

Bucky picked up more speed as the traffic thinned, careening around corners as his road twisted deeper into the woods.

At least Tony was smart enough to experiment someplace other than downtown New York City, but then Tony was brilliant.

But he was also fucking dumb as hell, and Bucky was going to kill him.

He pulled up to the front of the Stark’s house - more of a mansion, towering into the sky - and leapt off, letting his bike skid on until it crashed into a tree. He was halfway up the entrance steps when Edwin Jarvis came hurrying out, face flushed.

“He’s out on the grounds. I let him out because he - well, it seemed best.”

“Thanks,” Bucky grunted, knowing it wasn’t polite enough but all he had time for. He turned and leapt off the stairs.

He transformed in mid-air, shifting into a wolf and landing on all fours onto the driveway. His clothes were torn to shreds, scattering in the breeze. He dug his paws into the gravel and sprinted for the trees.

“He headed to the backwoods!” Jarvis shouted after him, pointing.

Bucky circled, and he tipped his head back and howled. It wasn’t his best song - he was angry, but it was still a greeting.

One Tony might not yet know how to interpret, and while Bucky perked his ears he heard no response.

Tony, Tony, Tony. The first transformation was the worst, only shortly followed by the second because then you knew what pain would come. It racked the body, bones snapping and reforming, muscles restringing. Tony should never have been alone for the first shift.

Not like Bucky had been, in Hydra’s clutches. Not like Steve had been, in that bunker under the city. Tony should’ve had pack around him, but then of course Tony knew they’d have stopped him. It was a miracle Steve and Bucky had survived the lupine serum, and Tony was aware of the odds.

Dumb as hell. His brilliant genius was dumb as hell.

Bucky howled again with no response, but he picked up a scent trail. It had to be Tony - similar to his human scent, but richer and tangier. It slithered up Bucky’s nose and down his throat, and he sprinted along the trail so that it got fresher and wilder and even more delicious.

His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he thought about bathing in that scent. It had been hard enough keeping his hands off Tony when Tony had been a human. He didn’t know how he was going to do it with Tony as a wolf.

And Steve wasn’t here to keep him in check. Steve was overseas, attending a week-long conference with MI6, and Bucky had been moping and missing their pack of two.

Now they’d be a pack of three.

Something slammed into his right side, and he snarled and found his feet as he whirled on his attacker.

Tony.

Tony as a wolf, with rich, chestnut brown fur that gleamed under the sunlight. He was on the small side still, with perfectly proportioned legs and hindquarters that made Bucky’s ears perk forward.

He was gorgeous, and he was snarling a challenge at Bucky with wild eyes.

Bucky’s blood went hot, and he paced to the side. Tony matched him step for step, circling and circling as they waited for the other to make a move.

Tony struck first, leaping for Bucky’s throat.

Bucky dodged the bite and twisted on Tony, but Tony was quick and agile. He danced back, growling, and Bucky followed.

Tony was pack, but he was feral. Bucky needed to calm him down so he could shift back to human, regain some of his senses. He’d have too much input with sights, sounds, and smells dialed up to overwhelming proportions.

He needed Bucky to show him how to handle and process it. To train him, to teach him how to be pack.

But Tony was making him work for it. Tony was leaping and attacking and dodging as Bucky tried to make him heel. He ran off, leading Bucky on a merry chase before whirling and standing off again.

Bucky’s heart pounded, panting, as he cornered Tony another time. The thrill of the chase was pulling at him, the desire to catch, to bite, to take. Staring at Tony’s wagging tail only pushed him closer to the edge.

Tony was brilliant and fast, but Bucky waited him out and wore him down.

Tony danced too close and with surprising speed for how big he was, Bucky reached out and snapped his jaws around Tony’s neck.

Tony whined, tugging, but Bucky squeezed. Tony whimpered but he didn’t release the hold, climbing on top of Tony to secure it. Tony stilled underneath him and he growled his approval.

Tony relaxed, then gave a surge of energy to wiggle out, but Bucky yipped and held him fast.

Tony was his. Fur coated his mouth, scent clung to his nostrils. He pushed until Tony was forced to the ground, pinned under Bucky’s weight.

Tony whined, something high and sweet and begging, and Bucky rewarded him by rutting along his back.

Tony’s paws scrabbled at the dirt, but he panted and stayed. He rucked up against Bucky, hips lifting, and Bucky rewarded him with another thrust.

His cock was poking out of his sheath, filling and lengthening as it pressed into Tony’s fur. 

Bucky needed to know what Tony would smell like covered in him, how delicious a mix of their scents would be.Tony yipped and whined and shimmied against Bucky, his tail wagging.

Bucky let go of Tony’s fur to howl his claim to the sky as he rutted against Tony. He growled and fucked Tony’s fur, showcasing what a good mate he would be. How hard, how fast he could fuck, how good he’d make it for Tony.

Tony stretched out on his front paws, arching back as much as he could under Bucky, showing how good he’d take it. 

Bucky came, snarling, spilling onto Tony. His cock filled as if to knot, but there was nothing to hold. It undercut the orgasm, but next time they’d be prepared. Next time they’d -

Oh fuck.

Bucky shifted back to a human, crouched over Tony. He tumbled to the side, not even able to enjoy the way Tony smelled like him.

Steve was going to kill him, right after Steve was done killing Tony. Tony wasn’t only Howard’s son, a ‘friend’ from the war, but also Steve’s godson. Bucky didn’t give a flying fuck what Howard thought, but Steve could be overprotective. Bucky was dead. 

Tony panted, tongue hanging out of his mouth, looking dazed.

“Tony, are you - shit, are you okay?” Bucky reached out, but pulled his hand back.

Tony crawled over and plopped his head in Bucky’s lap. He licked Bucky’s thigh, and Bucky carefully threaded fingers through his fur. For that Bucky was awarded Tony’s cold nose pushing into his hip, but then Tony’s tongue warmed up the skin.

Then Tony turned and started licking up the spend that coated Bucky’s cock.

“Okay, that’s -” fantastic, Bucky didn’t finish. His cock twitched under Tony’s attention, and he dug his fingers deeper into Tony’s silky strands.

“You need to -” Bucky gasped, tugging Tony’s head away, “- turn back into a human. Can you? Just think of -”

Tony’s jaw receded, then the fur. His spine twisted, popping, and there was the crack of bones. It took more than a few tries to do it fast and smooth, the pain the blip of a moment instead of the screaming transformation of several seconds. But then Tony was human again, naked and gasping in his lap.

Bucky gathered him in his arms and cradled him. “You stupid idiot,” he said, voice too fond. “You shouldn’t have done this to yourself.”

“Curious. Had to see what all the fuss was about. Kill the cat, so to speak,” Tony mumbled into Bucky’s chest.

“You fucking stupid idiot.” Bucky sighed. “You’re not supposed to be the cat. How you didn’t die -”

“’M brilliant.” Tony nuzzled into Bucky’s skin. “And now I’m pack. Right?” Tony pulled back, alarmed. “I’m pack now?”

“You always were.” Bucky kissed him, hard and desperate. “You right fucker, you were. And you are.”

Bucky clutched Tony, laying claim to Tony’s skin with his hands. His mouth watered with the urge to bite, to leave bruises on Tony’s flesh that told the tale of where he’d been. Mine.

“Tell me we’re doing that again.” Tony kissed a line on Bucky's jaw. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

Bucky possessed Tony’s mouth, using his tongue to own every inch. He couldn’t wait to show Tony how capable a long, agile wolf tongue was. What strength and speed and ferocity came with the lupine serum, with chases and fights and fucks. 

“Should have time for a few rounds before Steve comes back.”

Tony groaned, hiding his face in Bucky’s neck. “He’s going to kill me.”

Bucky patted Tony’s back, running a hand down Tony’s spine until he hit his dried come right above Tony’s ass. He licked his lips.

“He’s going to kill us both,” Bucky admitted, and let his hand continue down until he palmed Tony’s firm, full cheeks. “So we better enjoy it while we can.”