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littleslaywrites · 2 days ago

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don’t stand so close to me | professor!spencer reid x student!reader

nsfw, mdni

summary: you meet spencer at his office hours, despite the rumors that your classmates are spreading about your possible relationship

word count: 2.3k

cw: f!reader, smut, fingering, p in v sex, protected sex, semi-public, office sex

You weren’t sure how anyone could pay attention to Professor Reid’s class. Not when he was standing there, looking gorgeous behind the lectern. Every time you almost could focus, he’d make eye contact with you, stopping your train of thought in its tracks.

It was even worse when you went to office hours. He was the awkward type of charming, making you blush as he helped you with your work. You had to stop going a few weeks ago as you’d end up soaked and frustrated by the time you left.

Not only was your absence to keep you from wanting him too badly, but you were more than aware of the way your classmates spoke of you. Rumors passed were tossed around, speculating on your relationship to Professor Reid. You explained this away, reminding those who were bold enough to approach you that you were one of the few students who wasn’t auditing the class, so it was only logical that you’d spend more time in his office than those who weren’t being graded.

What you couldn’t explain away, though, was the way he looked at you. “I swear to god, he bit his lip when he looked at her,” one girl sitting behind you whispered to her friend. You tried not to blush, both embarrassed by the attention and hopeful that what they said was true.

As a result of your distraction and avoidance of office hours, you did less than ideally on your last exam, so you set out to go to his office on a Friday afternoon. You felt nervous on the way there, heart rate increased at the prospect of seeing your professor so closely.

His office was deep inside one of the halls, on a basement floor and down a long hallway. Approaching the wooden door, you slowly open it, even more nervous than before, now that you’ve realized you’re the only one around.

“Good afternoon,” you say awkwardly when you step inside the office. Professor Reid is behind a large wood desk, taking notes inside a book. The lamp in front of him is the only thing providing illumination, and you can’t help but think of how good he looks in the low light.

“Good afternoon,” he echoed, closing the book. “Sit down.”

You obey, taking a seat in the chair in front of him.

“I assume this is related to your last exam,” he says as he opens a drawer and pulls out a folder. You nod, too nervous to speak. The warm dimness is similar to the lighting that’d be found in an intimate restaurant. You try to banish the inappropriate thoughts, knowing how wrong it is to think about your professor in this way.

He produces your test, laying it in front of him. “You’ve stopped coming to office hours,” he says, looking over your answers.

The silence prompts you to respond, letting out a small “yes”.

He then begins to go over the test, answer by answer. You’re trying to focus, but his long fingers are running along the words on the page, pulling your attention away.

He reaches a question that’s particularly marked up with red writing, and turns the paper around. Leaning in, he begins to show you the mistakes on the short answer. He’s monologuing, saying something about behavioral positivism. Your gaze is downcast, too nervous to make eye contact, and instead opting to focus on the paper.

“Look at me,” he says suddenly. Your eyes shoot up, and you fight not to blush as his brown eyes study yours. “It seems like you’re distracted.”

You have no reply. He leans forward in your silence. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m not–”

“Yes, you are.” He motions for you to come closer, and you lean in. Your faces are close, close enough to feel each other’s breath. You can’t seem to pull your eyes away from him. “Is it me?”

You’re still speechless. Your mind is racing as you try to find a response. It doesn’t help when he reaches a hand up and pushes your hair behind your ear. He’s scandalously close now, lips just inches from yours.

“Am I what you’re thinking about?”

“Yes,” you murmur, shy from the admission.

Your confession is all he needs, and he closes the distance between you. His lips cover yours as his hands grab the sides of your face.

If there was anything left in your brain, it’s gone now. His kiss is soft and his touch is firm. You close your eyes and give in to the sensation of his tongue invading your mouth. It’s a gentle intrusion, like a soft breeze slipping through an open window on a hot day.

When you pull away to catch your breath, his teeth hold onto your bottom lip before releasing you.

“Lock the door,” he says in a low voice. You follow his directions and turn back to see him dumping everything atop the desk into a drawer. Your legs are like jelly, and you think that you must be dreaming. “Come here,” he commands, and you meet him behind the desk.

You stand face to face, and he’s staring down at you. Even in the dimness, you can see something in his eyes– lust.

“Do you want this,” he almost whispers, “do you want me?”

His question reminds you of his introverted nature. You feel a bit more at ease as you realize he’s almost as nervous as you are.

“Yes,” you whisper back.

He reaches out to touch you, hand snaking around your waist as he pulls you into another kiss. He’s nipping at your mouth and suckling at the places on your lips where he’s bitten you. You only break apart when he pulls off your shirt. His large hands go to your bare skin, running along your torso, stopping briefly to squeeze at your breasts.

His tongue pokes out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip, and you need to kiss him again. You lean in, hands finding the back of his and gripping at his hair. He groans into your mouth, the vibrations going straight to your core.

You let go of his hair and begin to work on his tie. Pulling it away from his collar, you throw it somewhere in the room, and begin to unbutton his shirt. You’re desperate to feel his bare skin on yours. When you’ve gotten all the buttons undone, he shrugs off his shirt and backs up to pull his undershirt off.

You stare at each other for a moment, fighting shyness as you feel exposed in your black bra.

He makes the first move, grabbing your hips to guide you to the desk. He pushes you against it, mouth going to your neck to leave sloppy kisses.

While he’s focused on marking you up, you unbutton your jeans and kick them away, leaving you only in your underwear. To make it even, you reach for his pants, pulling the belt out of its loops. You make it as far as getting his zipper down before he pushes your hands away.

You’re trapped between the desk and his leaning form. His breath is hot against your face, nose pressing against each other as you catch your breath.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispers into your ear, lips brushing against you. “Why’d you stop coming to my office hours?”

“I–” your words catch in your throat as his long fingers brush you from outside your underwear.

“Was it because of what they say about us?” He pulls the crotch of your panties to the side and feels the dampness that’s been pooling since the moment you entered the room. “Why don’t we prove them right?”

All of his questions go unanswered, as your mind is consumed with the way he’s touching you. “Please,” you whine as he thumbs at your clit as lightly as he can.

“Good girl, so polite,” he says to himself as he slips a finger in you. You moan, his digit brushing against your velvety walls. In response, he adds another finger, thrusting slowly.

"Professor Reid…” you whimper as his fingers reach deep inside you.

“Spencer,” he says, looking down at you with dilated pupils. “Call me Spencer.”

You have no words to call him anything when he curls his fingers, and you cry out. You’re glad he’s pressed against you, as you’re sure your legs would be unable to support you without his help.

Before you can reach your climax, he pulls his hand away, briefly sucking his fingers to taste you.

“Spencer,” you whine, feeling empty.

He grabs your ass once before pulling your panties down. “Sit,” he says, guiding you to the side of the desk, and you lift yourself up to the desk. Your legs dangle awkwardly, and you worry that your wetness is pooling on the wood below you.

He reaches around to take off your bra, discarding it at your feet. He lightly kisses your chest, licking your nipple once before stepping back to take his own pants off.

You’re nothing short of desperate as you watch him undress. Even without his touch, you’re breathless, mindlessly grinding against the desk below you.

“Needy girl,” he says as he sees the way you’re watching him.

“Please, Spencer,” you say, hand moving to circle your clit when you see the bulge in his underwear. “I need you inside me.”

“Anything you want, baby.”

He pushes you down so you’re on your back. His hands explore your naked form, touch electric against your skin. Every brush of his fingers has you rubbing your legs together to relieve any pressure you can.

You whine as he teases you, and he can’t resist when you begin to mindlessly spread your legs from him. He grabs your hips and pulls you to the edge of the desk, and your legs wrap around his hips.

He leans down to place a quick kiss on your stomach before he rids himself of his underwear. His cock is now free, and you see the precum dripping out of his slit.

You’re barely resisting the urge to beg when he runs his tip along your pussy. He groans, head thrown back as he ruts against you. His hands press down on your hips to keep you from moving against him.

“Stop teasing.” Your words are nearly sobs, barely escaping as you pant.

“Sorry, baby,” he groans. “You just feel too good.”

He pulls a drawer open, rummaging through before retrieving a condom. He rolls it onto his length, stroking himself once before moving to touch you again.

Squeezing at the flesh on your hips, he pushes inside, making it about a third of the way before he has to stop.

He puts a hand down on the desk and leans above you. He breathes rhythmically to keep himself from finishing inside you before he can even get all the way in. Your plush walls overwhelm him, wrapping him up in a warm embrace.

When he’s sure he can last, he pushes all the way inside. He lets out a whimper, and you think it's the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. Your hips are grinding against him as much as they can while he’s holding you down.

Slowly, he pulls away and pushes back inside, feeling the way you squeeze him. He’s let go of any remaining dignity, whining and whimpering as he thrusts.

You can feel every twitch of his cock, back arching as his length strokes your insides. You feel complete, like his cock was made just to fill you up.

His hands run along your legs, pulling them higher to reach you at a deeper angle. He’s hitting you in just the right spot, now. His breath quivers as his thrusts become more manic.

Your pussy flutters around him as his skin slaps against yours. He swears he can feel your heartbeat around his cock.

You’d feel self-conscious of your sounds if you didn’t know how empty the building is. Spencer’s eyes are closed as he groans along with you, noises combing until you don’t know whose moans are who’s. The sound of his skin against your ass fills the room, a sinful symphony that’d make your activities obvious to anyone that happened to walk by.

“Spencer, I’m…” your words turn into a sigh as his tip hits your sweet spot.

“I know,” he says, “me, too.”

His thrusts become disorganized as he tries to hold on until you cum. He’s determined to make you finish first.

Your legs wrap tightly against his waist as you feel your orgasm begin to overtake you. A rush of warmth comes over your whole body as your pleasure peaks. You let out an obnoxious moan, back arching as your skin flushes.

Spencer lets go when he feels the telling tightening around his cock. He shudders as he fills the condom, head thrown back as he shamelessly whimpers.

The two of you stay like that for a minute, trying to force your breathing to return to normal. He regretfully pulls out of you, burying the condom in the trash under some discarded papers.

Moving back to where you're laying, he lightly runs hands along your legs, bringing you back to reality. Suddenly, you realize that you’re sitting in a pool of your own fluids, and you feel a little embarrassed.

“I’m sorry I made a mess of your desk,” you say, fighting shyness again.

“You can ruin my desk any day.” He grabs your hand and pulls you up so you’re sitting with him standing between your legs.

He runs his fingers through your hair, and you lean your head against his chest.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, concern lacing his words.

“Good. Really good.”

He hums, a hand stroking your back.

“So you’ve heard the rumors,” you say, remembering his earlier remarks.

“Maybe.”

“I guess we gave them something to talk about.”

He chuckles. “Will you start coming to office hours again?”

“You’ve convinced me." You meet his eyes, and a plants a soft kiss on your forehead "You’re very persuasive.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #mgg #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds

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myfictionaldreams · 12 hours ago

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so glad you’re back! happy new year!! please could you write poly!marauders where reader is feeling clingy and needy in the evening? like she’s just melting into the boys, wearing their clothes and they love every second if it.

Not Today, Please. // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

Summary: Why is it fair that every month, you have to experience agony for multiple days at a time? The boys hate seeing you suffer with your period and take it upon yourself to try and make you as comfortable as possible.

Requested by: I've mixed together a request from this lovely anon & @f1ct1onallove. Thank you both for your requests!

Tags: 18+ readers only, minimal smut, fluff, domestic bliss, menstruation, magical orgasm, comfort, kissing/cuddling, overall just cuteness

Words: 2.9k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

It was an off day. It was normal. Everyone experienced them from time to time.

Today. You felt like complete and utter shit.

There wasn’t a major catastrophe that had happened for your day to be going this negatively, a surprising thought considering that you’re attending Hogwarts, which seemed to be renowned for its trouble occasionally. To be truthful, you were experiencing a mundane situation.

You’d started your period the day before. It was a typical event for those with a uterus. However, it was your second day of ‘hell’, which was usually your worst.

Agonising pain stemming from your abdomen, creeping to the muscles down your thighs, followed up nausea and exhaustion, irritability, and hunger that never seemed to fade, no matter the amount of food scoffed. Not to mention the absolute chaos from the blood that was lost that left you feeling in a constant state of dirty and ill.

Yet, despite all of this, life was expected to continue. Unfortunately, this included attending lessons, sitting in uncomfortable desks and chairs, and walking from one end of the immense castle to the next with minimal time to stop for breaks and lunch.

Sometimes, you cursed the fact that you were born with a uterus, and then the second you ceased bleeding, you were back to normal, but those few days were the pure definition of Hell.

One small detail to note was that, of course, you attend the hospital wing and have Madam Pomfrey create a concoction to aid with all of your symptoms. However, after attempting this multiple times, the only potion strong enough to work made you feel zoned out, disorientated and useless for the rest of the day. It was great before bed, but it did not mix well with tasks on a day-to-day basis.

This all leads to your current predicament of standing in a hidden corridor in the castle. Only a single lamp illuminated the cobweb-ridden walls. Not that you were paying attention to this, as your eyes were firmly shit. All you were concentrating on was controlling your breathing as another wave of pain flared in your abdomen.

Swaying on the spot, your fingers pressed firmly into the area that hurt, hoping to massage the ache away, but the way that your nose began to tingle with the threat of the tears building behind your closed eyes, nothing seemed to be helping.

One more lesson, that was all you had left for the day. Charms with Professor Flitwick and being the model student, it would be noted if you decided to skip. Instead, you chose to take these last few minutes before class to try and cope with the pain before sitting for the next hour in the same seat.

Another cramp ached through your lower body, causing your knees to tremble as you tried to do anything but fall to the floor.

A shuffle from the far end of the corridor had your pulse racing and nose sniffing as you tried to control your emotions, forcing the fake mask into place before anyone saw it.

Leaning away from the wall you were facing, you turned and immediately bumped face-first into a firm chest. The calming cedarwood scent notified you whose arms surrounded your back, a hand cradling your head soothingly as small circles were drawn on your lower back.

“I need to get better at this hide-and-seek game”, you try and joke as you tightly grip the back of his sweater, breathing him in entirely as the top of his head rests on yours.

Remus’ chest vibrates as he laughs under his breath, holding you tighter. “Maybe we should pick a better game, considering I have a little help in my back pocket”. Frowning, your fingers slip lower until they’re cupping his arse, half groping, half feeling for what he was referring to until you feel the parchment paper.

“That’s cheating using the Marauders Map to find me”, you muse whilst tilting your face up to look up at him. Remus always towered over you; even when you decided to dress up in heels, he continued to be the tallest in the room. Remus’ kind green eyes softened as he looked down at you, the hand cupping the back of your head and sliding to hold the side of your face.

“I’m worried about you”, he admits, cutting right to the chase. “I know you’re in pain, and I hate that you feel like you have to hide it”. You couldn’t help but sigh, knowing there was nothing that you could hide from either of your boyfriends.

“It’s not that I’m trying to hide anything; I just needed a minute to compose myself before class. Speaking of which, we are going to be late- Ah”, the gasp of pain is slipping out before you’re able to clamp your mouth shut. Resting your head against his chest, he holds you close whilst you wait for the pain to ease.

“Sorry, it’s easing slightly now. We can carry on,” you explain, pulling away from him to take his hand with the intention of continuing to class.

However, you’re pulled back as your boyfriend stands still, looking at you with a positive twink in his eyes that had you both weary and intrigued. “Firstly, never apologise for being in pain. Secondly, the class has been cancelled; that’s another reason why I’ve come to find you.”

“Class is never cancelled, what’s happened?”

Remus finally begins to move, only stepping toe to toe with you. “Something about Flitwick being unwell. I’m not sure, but we have other plans now”.

You aren’t sure whether to be buzzing with relief that you are expected to go to your last class of the day or be concerned with the plans Remus and the others have. The Gryffindor parties that your boyfriends and friends put on were infamous throughout the castle for how wild they were, but today, all you wanted to do was rot in bed with some chocolate and preferably your boyfriends wrapped around you.

Remus sensed your trepidation and lifted his free hand to tip your chin towards him, “Don’t look so worried. I promise you’ll like it. Come on”.

Reluctantly, you follow with one arm wrapped around your abdomen as Remus holds firmly onto your hands, and your thumb absentmindedly rubs over the thin silver scars on the back of his hands. It didn’t take long before you realised the area of the destination was the Room of Requirement. The longer you walked, the more you found yourself leaning into him, savouring his warm and firm grip on your hand until you were aware of how needy you appeared. Still, Remus didn’t seem to mind and occasionally leaned down to kiss the top of your head affectionally.

As the two of you approached the room of requirement, you paused and said, “Wait, I’m not sure I want to go to a party tonight, Remus. Could we please go back to the common room? Or could I just go and wait for you guys in bed?”

Remus gives you a reassuring smile, pulling the two of you along the corridor before stopping by a door as it materialises in the wall. “I promise you’ll love this”.

Still filled with uncertainty and expecting loud music and shouting from a crowd, you’re pleasantly surprised when you’re welcomed into the most comfortable-looking room you’ve ever seen. Jazz played at a quiet volume from somewhere in the corner, and a raging fire thoroughly warmed the room covered in pillows, blankets, armchairs, and stools.

Your jaw hung open as you admired every inch of the room, your eyes lingering on the ceiling as you admired, “Is the ceiling made of glass?” As you stared at the sky, your eyes widened, a beautiful orange and red hue like a sunset.

“Not quite”, James began as he appeared from under a pile of purple fluffy blankets, his cheeks blushed with rose and lips plump as Sirius sat up too, looking just as dishevelled. “It’s the same spell used in the Great Hall; it just reflects the sky outside”.

“It’s beautiful”, you muse, stepping further into the room and releasing Remus’ hand as he shuts the door behind you. “Who did this? That’s pretty advanced magic - Ah!” You squeal in surprise as you’re taken off your feet and spun around on the spot.

“Merlin, be careful with her prongs!” You hear Sirius chastise as he, too, approaches, but you don’t mind James’ antics as you cling to the excitable man, breathing him in.

“I’ve noticed something; I find it funny that even though Sirius’ animagus is the dog, and yet James is the one who acts like an excitable Puppy”, Remus points out whilst slinging an arm around Sirius’ shoulder.

“Hey-!” James begins as he carefully places you back on the floor and turns to his boyfriend to reprimand him. However, he is cut off as Sirius steps forward, gripping his cheeks together until James’ lips purse out so he can kiss them quickly.

“Aw, my little puppy”, Sirius jests before repeating the kissing action with you with a more tender, gentle touch, and you lean into it desperately. “Welcome to your wonderful evening of fun, Darling”.

“Thank you! This is amazing, boys!” you exclaim whilst looking around the room and trying to decide where to rest first, but then a thought came to you: where would you go to the bathroom? As soon as you are finished thinking that thought, a door appears in the corner of the room. Stepping away from your boyfriends, you explain, “I’m just going to use the bathroom. Do you have any spare comfortable clothes I could change into?”

James grins as he reaches for some folded-up clothes you’d missed, and a sense of belonging and comfort fills your heart as you see it includes his shirt. Cleaning up, you’re now in leggings and James’ old quidditch shirt, feeling refreshed yet cosy.

Returning to the room, you momentarily forget about your current circumstances. You admire your three boyfriends as they lounge in front of the fire, casually talking with one another but sharing grins as you walk back towards them. Except reality comes crashing back as another wave of cramps ruins your uterus.

Massaging your abdomen as you double over, you can hear Sirius swear loudly before clambering over the cushions to get to you but stops a foot away, his hands hovering over your shoulders but not touching. Needing comfort, you reach for him, mainly collapsing into him as you wait for the pain to subside.

As it does, you relish the touch of his strokes down the centre of your back as he begins to explain his actions: “Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to touch you. I know I get overstimulated when I’m in pain, and people touch me, so I didn’t want to grab you if you just needed a minute.”

Warmth spreads through your chest at his consideration, and you squeeze him tighter as you tiredly say, “You can always touch me”. His eyes reflect the mischief in his smile at the tone you say the words, but he laughs it off as you try to hide your face in his chest.

“Come on, you perv, let’s get you comfortable”. Following closely beside him, Sirius takes you to where the other two are resting in front of the fire.

“I’m going to get us some food and drinks”, James explains as he stands, kissing your lips carefully before leaving the three of you. As you lie down amongst the pillows and blankets, your head resting against Sirius’ chest, more pain and nausea hit you.

It’s Remus’ turn to give you a chaste kiss before standing and making his way towards the exit, explaining he would go and get the potion from Madam Pompfrey. This left you and Sirius to be close together. And close together is precisely what you needed.

The thumping of his heart as you rested your cheek against his chest was comforting. Your fingers rested over his stomach, but the need to be even closer came over you. Your fingers slipped beneath his jumper to rest against his soft skin. Sirius hummed in contentment at the touch as his fingers carefully massaged your abdomen to relieve the ache.

Sucking in a breath as more pain takes over, Sirius shifts so he’s looking down at you with concern etched across his face, the shoulder-length hair falling into his eyes.

“Are you warm enough? Do you want my jumper?”

“I mean, I’m not going to say no, " you drawl tiredly, watching intently as he reached behind his head, pulled his jumper off, and began to help it on. You’re immediately surrounded by everything Sirius, his warmth and smell making you feel like you’re in your own personal corner of heaven. His arms are back around you as soon as you’re comfortable, but you can tell he’s still thinking hard. As much as Sirius pretends to be mysterious, you can read his face like an open book. “What is it?”

“I’ve heard from somewhere that orgasms help with period cramps”, he remarks casually whilst continuing to massage the pain away. You couldn’t help but give him a deadpan look.

“As much as I agree with that sentiment, I’m not in the mood for the mess that would come if it”, you explain, trying to ignore the warmth now throbbing between your legs that had nothing to do with your period.

It’s his turn to give you a pointed look as he reminds you, “Love, I don’t have to have sex with you to make you orgasm, do you not remember your birthday?”

Heat laces your cheeks as you very vividly remember your birthday and the spell Sirius had learned to give you an orgasm without so much as touching you. Instead of saying anything further, you reached up to run your fingers into his hair and pulled his face towards yours. The kiss was gentle and yet heated, your entire body leaning completely into his, legs tangled together as your tongues danced against one another.

You needed everything Sirius could offer, craving him. From the moans he was making, he felt the same way as his weight pressed you further into the cushions beneath. His hands cupped against your face, cradling you so carefully it was like he was afraid you would break, whereas your grip was so intense in his hair you were surprised strands weren’t falling out.

Slowly, those delicate touches moved down your body until one of his hands rested over the area that continued to cramp, his fingers spread wide. His lips left yours but only to whisper the spell into your neck, causing the unbelievably intense orgasm to pulse through your cunt as you squeezed your thighs together as hard as you could. The effects of the orgasm were felt from the tip of your head all the way to your toes as you cried out, “Sirius!” as wave after wave of pleasure eased through you until you collapsed completely into your surroundings.

Sirius continued to hold you, his arms now wrapped around your waist and face. He kissed lightly against your jaw, cheek, tip of your nose, and lips as you tried to catch your breath.

“How was that?” he asked with a gleam in his grey eyes, a ghost of a smile threatening to break free across his handsome face.

“Perfect” was all you could muster of a response as you snuggled closer to him until your head rested against his chest and he simply held you. “My cramps don’t feel so bad anymore”.

“Hmm, good”, Sirius kisses the top of your head before humming to the music playing in the background.

You must have fallen asleep against him as when your eyes opened next, Remus was kneeling before you, holding out a purple bubbling concoction in a tiny vial. “Drink it all, and we’ll get you something to eat”, he instructs as you also notice that James has returned with plates and plates of all manner of foods and desserts.

Sitting up, you thanked him before drinking and then promptly gagged at the taste and texture of the potion. However, the effects were instantaneous as a sense of calm washed over you.

“Woah, easy there, I’ve got you, Darling”, Sirius reassures as you slump back into him, having no energy to hold your head up anymore.

“Open your eyes, Honey, I need you to eat this”. You do with great difficulty but are welcomed by the precious sight of James Potter grinning down at you with a bowl of soup in his lap, the spoon lifted and waiting for you to have.

James fed you the soup and bread as you fell into complete contentment at the care they were giving you. If you had any sense, you probably would have cried with joy and love, but the potion left you feeling too out of it, even if you had the energy to shed a tear.

“All good?” James asks as he finishes feeding you some ice cream. Licking your lips, you nod and smile tiredly at him. James returns with his cheeky grin, leaning down and kissing you before not so subtly pushing Sirius out of the way until his perfectly squished between you and Sirius. “Move over, Pads, it’s my turn to cuddle”.

Sirius swears but moves slightly over, and with everyone fed and happy, everyone gets comfortable. You remain where you are, lying against James’ chest. Remus then presses close against your back, his arm wrapping around you to rest over your hand, and Sirius lies sideways, his head resting against your head. It was a wholesome night, and there was nothing you appreciated more than your boyfriends. When the next few days passed, you would show them exactly how thankful you were for them.

#poly!marauders #the marauders #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #the marauders x reader #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #hp one shot #mine*

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thewertsearch · 1 day ago

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@hussianphilosopher submitted: Sally - longtime lurker, first time poster, big fan. I'm perpetually amazed by how thoughtful you are about Homestuck and how well you understand it for a first-time reader (you might be surprised how many people watch Cascade and don't actually understand that the Green Sun was just created, much less immediately put together everything Doc Scratch said and did that led up to it!). The high point of the liveblog for me was the whole arc of you being confused about how predestination in Homestuck worked, because, essentially, you had already figured out that the alpha timeline existed before the alpha timeline was introduced. You were confused about the story for a while because you understood it too well, too quickly! As someone who engages with the story similarly to you, on both the character level and the deep story/analysis level, I want to make what is a pretty contrarian argument these days: that the Epilogues are A. good, and B. canon. They're a tough read for sure, but I think someone who reads the story as deeply and pays as much attention as you do will really appreciate what they're trying to do. The Epilogues were also the last time that Hussie was directly involved with the story, and I think if you read them now it's very clear that the story is the culmination of ideas he was thinking about from very early in Homestuck (He said for years before the comic finished that he planned some kind of epilogue). The whole "dubiously canon" concept was part of a failed experiment on his part to try to step away and empower the fandom - the people who actually worked on the comic in that era always treated it as canon and referred to it as such. I consider the Epilogues the final canonical chapter of Homestuck - at a bare minimum I think it should be thought of as Hussie's take on a post-Homestuck fanfic, and I think it deserves attention. Of course I also think the story is good and interesting, which a lot of people don't, so, it's all a matter of opinion, but, as someone who's been following your liveblog and respects your reading of the comic a lot, I wanted to at least throw my hat into the ring on the subject. Incredibly excited to see what you make of act 6!

I really appreciate this honest, impassioned, genuine defense of the Epilogues. It's not the only one I've been sent, either - and quite a few of the others have also cited my analytical style as a reason why I might get more out of them than I realize. I can't pretend I'm not at least a little intrigued.

I've been thinking a lot about Homestuck's tie-in material while drafting my response to this message, and after some serious consideration, I've decided that I'm going to change my planned approach to the Epilogues.

I originally planned to read it in a more casual, less analytical manner, and potentially transition to a full liveblog if and only if I'm sufficiently engaged. Instead, however, I'm going to do the opposite, respecting the faith its defenders have in it by giving it the complete liveblogger's treatment from the very beginning.

I reserve the right to transition back to a casual read if I'm not enjoying myself, of course! But, rest assured, I'll only do that after giving the Epilogues a real, good-faith college try.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #asks

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oddyseye · 1 day ago

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Dissecting every reason people call Eurylochus a hypocrite because I am sick and tired of defending this poor hungry man.

Eurylochus is not the easy villain or the perfect saint. He is the walking contradiction of the Odyssey and EPIC, and anyone who just calls him a hypocrite without understanding the nuances of his motivations really isn’t paying attention to the full picture. Let’s start with the infamous wind bag fiasco, which happens early enough for Eurylochus to show us his conflict. Yes, he doubts Odysseus’ judgment when it comes to the Wind God’s island, warning him about the risks. And let’s be real, Eurylochus is absolutely right. If you look at the situation, Odysseus is acting impulsively, relying on his wits and bravado, thinking he can control the outcome with the power of his charm. But this? It’s a god’s realm. The gods don’t work on your timetable. At this point, what does Odysseus’ confidence even mean? Eurylochus sees it as reckless, and I agree. Yes, Eurylochus is a bit wary of everything at this point (which might be annoying if you’re Odysseus), but it’s a valid concern. And Odysseus’ reply? It's a bit patronizing. He doesn’t respect Eurylochus’ caution. Instead of listening to his crew member, his second-in-command, Odysseus tells him to stand down and demands blind loyalty. Of course, this sets the stage for Eurylochus’ next crucial transformation. He’s now seen Odysseus as someone who doesn’t care about the real risks or the crew. People LOVE to bring up that line where Eurylochus says he opened the wind bag. Okay, okay, he messed up. But here’s the thing: he knows he messed up, and he admits it. In front of everyone. He’s not hiding it. He’s not making excuses. He’s owning up to it. And people still want to call him a hypocrite? He wasn’t the one who set the trap for the entire crew by opening that wind bag. Odysseus gave some instructions, but he knew the crew was starving and desperate. And then, on top of that, you have the winions stirring the pot, telling everyone there’s treasure in the bag? What did he think would happen? The crew wasn’t exactly in the best headspace to be taking orders from a guy who was clearly not as present as he should have been. You can’t put all the blame on Eurylochus when Odysseus didn’t exactly set them up for success. Everyone was already in a fragile place after the war, and Odysseus should have known better than to leave room for temptation. He was the leader; he should’ve anticipated how bad the temptation would be. Eurylochus gets a little too much flak for something that wasn’t entirely his fault. There’s enough blame to go around for everyone, not just one guy. All of the crew wanted to open the bag, Eurylochus was just the one who did. He represents the voice of the crew. His biggest focus becomes apparent in the Circe Saga, specifically during Puppeteer, when Eurylochus is forced into a brutal choice on Circe’s island. After the men are turned into pigs, Eurylochus has to come to terms with his decision. He’s a pragmatist. He doesn’t trust the island, doesn’t want to gamble their lives on a witch’s promises. So, when Odysseus sends him and the crew to investigate, Eurylochus doesn’t just go along for the ride, he stays behind and urges Odysseus to get out of there. But let’s remember, this moment is a turning point for Eurylochus. He’s scared, yes, but also rational. He was the one who saw the situation from a distance and thought, “This is too risky.” He’s the realist who wants to cut his losses, but it’s important to notice that his fear is the fear of losing more men, not necessarily cowardice. Unlike Odysseus, who acts out of hope, Eurylochus is practical. His attitude here reflects the trauma they’ve been through and how tired he is of losing people. That’s why his frustration boils over later when Odysseus sacrifices men — because Eurylochus has seen enough death.

Now, let’s talk about Scylla. Because this is the moment where everything Eurylochus has learned comes crashing down on him. Remember that vow Odysseus made to him earlier: “There’s no length I wouldn’t go if it was you I had to save”? Well, that sentiment sticks with Eurylochus. He takes that to heart. So when Odysseus makes the decision to sacrifice six men to Scylla, you can see why he snaps. It’s not just that Odysseus is willing to sacrifice them — it’s that he does it without warning, without giving them the choice. Eurylochus feels like Odysseus has abandoned everything he taught him about loyalty. That vow he made? Yeah, it means nothing now. Eurylochus is furious because Odysseus fails him here. He’s been teaching Eurylochus the value of every single life, yet when the time comes to uphold that belief, Odysseus throws it out the window to save himself and his pride. So, of course Eurylochus is mad. And it’s not about the six men dying (because, let’s be real, he’s no saint), it’s about the betrayal. He’s been made to believe in the cause, but now he sees Odysseus as a hypocrite. It stings, and it’s totally justified. This leads us to Mutiny. Eurylochus is right to be mad at Odysseus for sacrificing six men just to save his own skin. Don’t even try to justify that. Odysseus put his own desire to get home ahead of the lives of his crew. Eurylochus did not agree to be cannon fodder for Odysseus’ personal agenda. He wasn’t going to sit back and watch his brothers die without questioning what the heck was going on. So, when Odysseus goes full “sacrifice six for the greater good,” you bet Eurylochus was angry. He wasn’t just upset because they were going to die; he was upset because Odysseus made the decision to send them to their deaths without even consulting them. Eurylochus’ reaction is human, it’s justifiable, and it’s completely rational. He’s not a traitor, he’s someone who realizes that Odysseus’ quest for glory comes at the expense of the people he supposedly cares about. Then we get to the cattle of Helios because apparently everyone’s learnt nothing. Eurylochus has already checked out emotionally. He’s looked at the situation, and for him, the reality of their fate is clear: they’re not going to make it home. They’re already dead in a way, and the gods are just playing with them. So when faced with the opportunity to eat the cows, he sees it as a way to take some control over a situation where they’ve lost all control. His logic isn’t about doing what’s morally right in the eyes of the gods. At least if they’re going to die, they can do it on their own terms — full stomachs, no slow starvation or suffering. It’s a very bleak and cynical perspective, but it’s also realistic. And in a way, it shows a form of wisdom that Odysseus doesn’t have in this moment. Odysseus, of course, refuses to let go of hope. His entire journey is a testament to his stubbornness and unwillingness to give up. That’s his defining trait, and it’s what keeps him going, but it also blinds him to the obvious signs of doom around him. He refuses to accept that the gods are no longer in his favor, that they’ve been punished for their mistakes, and that he’s already sealed their fate. For Odysseus, admitting that they’ve lost would be admitting defeat, and that’s something he can’t stomach. So, instead of facing the reality of the situation, he doubles down on his hope and pride. Eurylochus isn’t the naive one here. He’s not playing the hero’s game. He’s real. He’s already accepted that their journey is doomed, but he refuses to be passive in that fate. He wants to take charge of how they go out. He’s not waiting for divine intervention anymore because, honestly, it hasn’t worked out so well for them so far. He’s out of options and out of faith.

But here’s the darker, more tragic implication: Eurylochus’ perspective is the voice of the crew. His attitude — “We’re never gonna make it home; we’re already doomed” — isn’t just his own individual despair; it’s shared by everyone else around him. The crew is no longer fighting for survival; they’ve been through too much. They’ve seen too many of their comrades die for a cause that seems meaningless at this point (how do you think Perimedes would feel when Elpenor died). They’ve been stranded for so long, constantly at the mercy of the gods, with no real agency over their fates. They’ve lost hope. The entire crew is in a suicidal state of mind, and Eurylochus’ willingness to eat the cows is just the worst tangible sign of that collective despair. He’s the one who finally gives voice to it, like always, but it’s a sentiment that’s been building throughout their journey. He’s come to terms with it in a way that Odysseus has not. In that sense, his desire to eat the cows is almost a form of passive suicide — an attempt to bring some meaning, some control to an already doomed situation. His actions signal a profound loss of the will to live. This attitude is contagious. When Eurylochus speaks, he’s speaking for a crew that’s also checked out, a crew that’s surrendered to the inevitable. They don’t believe in their survival anymore. They’re not thinking about glory or heroism. They’re thinking about getting something out of their final moments, about finding some form of solace in the face of certain death. They no longer care about the gods or their promises. They just want to eat, even if it means defying the divine laws. This is a crew that’s collectively suicidal, mentally exhausted, and emotionally broken. And Eurylochus, in choosing to act, becomes both the catalyst for their final downfall and the embodiment of their emotional exhaustion and surrender.

He doesn’t trust Odysseus anymore. Odysseus promised to bring them home, but where are they? They’re stranded, they’ve lost men, brothers, friends, and the gods keep throwing obstacles in their path. When Odysseus becomes a king in his eyes and no longer a brother, it’s clear: Eurylochus starts thinking about himself, and that definitely doesn’t make him a hypocrite. It makes him human. It makes him someone who’s had enough. So, when the storm hits, and Eurylochus says, “We’re going to die anyway,” it’s not just a defeatist attitude — it’s the voice of someone who’s been burned by his faith in Odysseus too many times. He finally does what Odysseus would have done if he weren’t so obsessed with getting home — he does what’s necessary for survival. It’s harsh, but it’s consistent with his struggle all along. Eurylochus isn’t a hypocrite because he speaks out against Odysseus — he’s just a man who wants to believe in loyalty, but realizes that Odysseus has never really been loyal to anyone but his wife, never his men. It’s a brutal realization, and it’s only when he lashes out in Mutiny that we see the full extent of his disillusionment.

So, before anyone calls Eurylochus a hypocrite, let’s remember that he was the one who had to deal with the consequences of Odysseus’ stubbornness and false promises. He wanted to be the loyal friend, the one who stuck by his leader. But Odysseus made it impossible. Now, he’s just a man broken by the very loyalty he once held dear.

#epic the musical #the odyssey #odysseus #eurylochus #eurylocus epic #odysseus epic

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viperify · 2 days ago

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Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ᴍᴜɢɢʟᴇʙᴏʀɴ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Celebrating Her.

Short summary: after spoiling you the entire day, Tom makes sure your special day ends in a blast.

Warnings: 18+ only! nipple play, fingering, slight degradation, choking, rough sex, unprotected p in v, ooc Tom but it’s okay because it’s my birthday.

A/N: leaving my teenage years behind. Today’s been super stressy, but I am happy to finally have time to post my birthday fic!!! Also happy birthday to my birthday twin, Severus Snape 🫶🏻

wordcount: 2,2k

celebrating him.

London. He has taken you to London. To your favourite restaurant to be exact, one that you have not visited ever since you moved to the wizarding world. Tom wasn’t the person to go to the muggle world, not if he didn’t have to at that. Too many bad memories have been made there, especially back in his orphanage days. So, for obvious reasons, you were surprised when he told you where you were headed to.

The clock strikes 9pm when he waves a waiter over and takes the courtesy to pay. Not that he would let you pay anyway, especially on your birthday, but you are still grateful. You feel people’s gaze on you as you both get up, your burgundy, crystal plated dress easily catching people’s attention as you stand out from the crowd on this seemingly so ordinary day. Ordinary for them, anyway.

Your eyes meet Tom’s, who is matching your attire with a black suit. The corner of his lips tugs up just the slightest bit at the attention you are receiving, and his arm wraps possessively around your waist. “Ready to leave?” he asks smoothly, and you nod, following him towards the exit.

However, he doesn’t take you back home like you had expected. No, instead, you are strolling through the city, finding your way through the crowd of people waiting to get home after another long Thursday. There are entire queues waiting for taxis, and suddenly you don’t miss your former, “normal” life in the slightest. London’s always been loud and busy, so when you received your letter for Hogwarts and got to know the most magical, hidden place in the Highlands of Scotland—you wish you could have lived there since your birth.

Being a muggle born isn’t easy. It’s come with its challenges, especially back in your first year at Hogwarts. It took time for you to find friends, to adjust to the change. And God, you missed your parents. Then, being exposed to all the hatred and bullying muggle borns had to endure definitely didn’t make it any better. Especially if you end up falling for your tormentor.

Being in love with Tom Riddle as a muggle born isn’t easy. But you two had somehow—after years of bickering and rivalry—made it work. It wasn’t until your seventh year that you got closer and essentially ended up being a couple. And no, you couldn’t believe it either. Not in your wildest dreams would you have thought the day would come that your strongest feeling for Tom would be love.

It’s always been hate, after all.

It was subtle at first, from stealing glances in classes to blatantly staring at each other, to—well. Him cornering you when you exited the girl's lavatory, whispering a soft “What are you doing to me?” as he leaned in. And before you could react, his lips were on yours, capturing you in a heartfelt kiss, pouring his feelings into it like he had to prove they really existed—firstly to you, but himself as well. Even when, in the end, of course you did love him too.

Tom’s love often is rough, distant. But you make it work, and when he does soften up—it’s like a plant sipping its first drop of water after an agonizingly long drought. You relish in it, your dynamics making you a perfect match for each other. And just like that, the boy you once hated with every cell in your body turned into your lover you wouldn’t even think about letting go.

That’s how you ended up spending your 20th birthday in London. Away from the wizarding world for once, back in your home city. You almost couldn’t believe when he apparated you both to the restaurant your parents used to take you to for birthdays. Tom Riddle, organizing a birthday dinner in the muggle world. A subtle smile brightens up your face at the thought. He leads you through the crowd, arms still around your waist. It’s not until he stops that you realize where you are headed.

One of the finest hotels in all of London, if you may. And he doesn’t just stop in front of it, no, you enter. Tom doesn’t respond when you ask him what you are doing here, instead withdraws a card from his pocket and leads you up the marble stairs. The setting feels special, too special to be true. It’s silent besides the clicking of your heels as you ascend the stairs, a chandelier dimly illuminating the hallway. There is no one around, no receptionist, no other guests. It seems as though you two are there alone, the property reserved for solely you two.

It’s not long until you arrive at door 464. As soon as he opens it, a smell of roses and lit candles floods your senses. The room, kept in an elegant vintage style, is illuminated by candles, the high ceilings decorated with baroque carvings. With you trying to take in the magic of the room, you don’t realize Tom stepping further into the room. Only when you hear muffled voices, followed by soft strains of classical music, your eyes flicker to where he is standing—adjusting a modern radio.

“Tom Riddle using a muggle device? This might be my best birthday present yet.” you snicker, walking towards the brunette. It’s then when he turns around, his deep brown eyes meeting yours.

“First and last time.” he answers, his voice low as his hands settle on your waist. Leaning in, he places a soft kiss on your lips. Without another word, Tom’s left hand intertwines with your right, the subtle notes of a violin and a piano resonating through the room as he guides you into a slow dance.

You can’t help but wonder how he’d learned to do that. At the two yule balls you experienced, he had never asked anyone for a dance. As you sway to the gentle tones, a memory plays in your head, taking you back four years to your 5th year at Hogwarts.

Being asked for a dance by one of the most popular boys in Gryffindor had its perks—you had been the center of attention the entire evening. Many people asked you for a dance, complimenting your looks as they took in your sapphire blue dress, adorned with tiny crystals.

In a brief moment of solitude, your eyes swayed around the hall, just for you to lock eyes with Tom. Merely a split second later, he averted his gaze, though the intensity of his eyes on yours lingered—and for the rest of the night, no one else asked you to dance again.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks you, and you are forced out of your thoughts, returning to the present. The dim candlelight casts a shadow on his sharp features, and you once again get lost in his eyes.

“Was it you? Back then, at the ball?” you murmur, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips at the question, and it’s almost as if you could see the memory replaying in his eyes.

“Nobody touches what is mine, darling.” Tom replies, and there is this familiar possessiveness in his voice, the one that you have grown to love. Another kiss later and he is tugging at your zipper as he leans in, his hot breath on the tender skin of your neck sending a shiver down your spine. “Let me take care of you now, just like you deserve.”

You don’t complain as he is leading you towards the bed, dress long discarded on the floor. Tom’s hand wanders, slipping under the waistband of your lace underwear as he settles down beside you. Finding your swollen bundle of nerves, the pad of his thumb rubs tight circles on it, having you take a sharp inhale at the sensation.

His other hand frees your breasts, pushing the dainty material of your bra to the side. His eyes wander up and down your almost entirely exposed form, muttering praises under his breath before he lowers his head to trail gentle kisses from your collarbone to your breast, gently wrapping his lips around the hardened peak.

“Oh— oh Merlin, Tom—“

His tongue flicks over the sensitive skin, drawing small whimpers and moans from you as your fingers thread through his silky brunette hair. You tug on it slightly, massaging his scalp as he continues his ministrations, nibbling and kissing your skin.

Your fingers dig into the sheets, firmly clenching around the fabric as two of his digits slip inside of your tight heat. “So wet for me,” he groans lowly, moving at an agonizingly slow pace as the heel of his hand rubs on your clit with every thrust of his hand. The sensations he is providing you with, fingertips massaging the one spot inside of you that has you grow dizzy with pleasure, the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter, and you are just there on the edge when—

“No, no please! I want to— want you to—“ you gasp, hand closing around his wrist, attempting to still his movements. His dark eyes lock with yours then, and he stops. “Use your words, sweetheart. What is it that you want?”

“Want you inside of me, please.” you murmur, and his lips curl into a knowing smirk at your words, shaking his head just slightly. He withdraws his fingers then, a small whimper falling over your lips at the loss. It doesn’t take long until he has undressed himself, parting your thighs before he positions himself between them, hovering over you.

“I really wanted to be nice to you today, darling.” he remarks, though his tip nudging at your entrance has all sane thoughts leave your mind at an instant.

“Merlin— you know I don’t want you to be. Please don’t be nice.”

Tom’s hand snakes around your throat at your response, mumbling something inaudible under his breath as he presses down on the sides of your throat, slowly splitting you apart on his hard length as you both groan. “This better? Want to be fucked like a whore even on your birthday?”

All you manage is a nod before he buries himself inside of you completely, not letting you adjust before he sets a harsh rhythm, his eyes darting down to his cock disappearing in your heat. Tom’s lips part slightly at the sight, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat.

The classical music playing in the background is a stark contrast to how he is fucking you, hips snapping into yours from an angle that has you see stars, your nails digging into his toned shoulders, sure to leave behind crescent marks.

“So— good!” you cry out, hands holding onto his biceps as he thrusts into you from above, the sound of your combined moans echoing around the hotel room. It’s not long until your pleasure is building again, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his tip brushes against your sensitive cervix.

“Eyes on me, darling. Let me see how good I am making you feel. Let me see you come,” he demands, hand squeezing down tighter on your throat. You do as he says, eyes fluttering open just for you to meet his stern expression, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his brunette curls stick to his damp forehead. His gaze burns into yours, the limited blood flow making you feel just slightly lightheaded, intensifying the feeling of his length slipping in and out of your sensitive walls.

You’re right at the edge, your cunt greedily clenching down on his thick cock. Tom seems to notice, his free hand reaching between you two, softly swiping over your needy clit with the pad of his thumb. “Tom— please!” you cry out, and he lowers his head, resting it in the crook of your neck. “Go on. Come for me,” he groans, and that is all you need to finally tumble over the edge, the intense feeling in your lower stomach leaving you a trembling and whimpering mess beneath him. Tom follows soon after, emptying himself deep inside of your warm, welcoming walls with a low grunt.

He collapses on top of you to catch his breath, though soon after pulling out of you, getting up to fetch a warm, damp towel to clean you up. It’s not long until he scoops you up in his arms, entering the bathroom where an already filled bathtub awaits you, lowering your spent body into the pleasantly warm water. He soon gets in as well, massaging circles into your shoulders as your head rests on his chest. It’s mostly quiet between you two, savouring the moment of intimacy you only rarely get to experience with him.

Before you drift off to sleep, he places a tender kiss on your head.

“Happy Birthday, love.”

#this is the most romantic shit I have written.#I kindaaa like this. Might change my mind later tho.#love you guys sm and im so thankful for your support #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle smut #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fanfic #slytherin #slytherin boys #dividers by saradika

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maybeiwasjustjade · 16 hours ago

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I find it funny that Feyre stannies constantly call Nesta abusive for threatening to rip Feyre’s throat out in acowar, but refuse to have the same energy for all the batshit, abusive crap Feyre’s pulled.

The throat ripping scene? Happened because Feyre refused to take no for answer. You’d think she’d understand that her traumatized sister would have zero interest reliving her trauma just to redeem your moron husband and his equally idiotic friends’ reputation, given that said husband and friends are the main reason she has that trauma in the first place. Instead Feyre pushes and pushes because she’s never met a boundary she respects that isn’t her own, and is surprised that her stubborn, fiery sister refuses to step down and obey just because now you wear a little tiara and prance around in a dress. And when that doesn’t work, you shift your attention to your other sister, who happens to be catatonic. And is once again, surprised that your mean older sister threatens to gut you for pushing no matter how many times she says no.

And let’s not forget the intervention right. Poor, victim Feyre with her meanie older sister who drinks and sleeps around because it’s only been a year since her life and body were literally ripped apart. Such an embarrassment for her to be living in the slums with a bunch of other tenants in your utopia city, and not in one of your five McMansions. Bitchy, ungrateful Nesta who spends Rhysand’s money as if she doesn’t have a right to his money, given that he promised to pay her for helping redeem his bitchass reputation in Acowar, and never did. S’not like the IC doesn’t also sleep around and get drunk like it’s their jobs instead of ruling; they just do it where it’s classy.

Poor, belittled Feyre who was locked in Tamlin’s manor for not even an hour, somehow has the rights to threaten to send her sister to the HoW despite making it seem like a choice. Going so far to even threaten to tie her up and throw her in there, with the caveat that she trains with a male who has made it very clear he respects little of her sister’s boundaries. But then again, Feyre doesn’t respect her sisters at all so why are we surprised she’s comfortable meddling in their lives like puppets on a string.

Get a fucking grip. Seriously. Or at least get the literacy and comprehension skills your fave seriously lacks but desperately needs.

#acotar #anti feyre stans #anti feyre #anti rhysand #anti ic #anti feysand #nesta archeron #pro nesta archeron

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thiccpersonality · 1 day ago

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5 Times Bruce Was Protective of His Pups (+2 Times They Were Protective of Him)

3: The Search

Not many people recall their childhoods (for the most part), let alone what happens in it, nor would anyone expect a child to so easily remember things from their lives as they are in the process of living it...but, Timothy Jackson Drake isn't just any person or child. That's what his mother says at least, or...that was something she said to him in the days that her and father paid him any mind. Nowadays Tim finds it difficult to get their attention if he isn't being useful to them in some way, and even then...

Anyway! Tim just wishes he knew what exactly he did wrong and where he messed their relationship up.

He wants to go back to the days where his mom held him in her arms and cooed to him about how precious he is to her. He desires to receive fond looks from his dad in the way he used to when he was three and running around their home.

Now.

Now Tim is stuck on his own and spiraling on what to do.

Things the neglect started to happen slowly: his mom or dad sending him off whenever he tried to get their attention while working, their personal time together slowly being replaced by toys and trinkets that he was excited to get at the time because they were a symbol of his parents love for him, his parents hiring more babysitters for him instead of finding time to just simply...be with him. Which is why Tim has started to chase off every and any caretaker that comes to his parents million dollar home. Every expensive toy and gadget spent on him is now thrown violently against the walls or floors in a desperate plea for attention, it's all he wants, it's all he's asking for...and that's not much, is it?

"Timothy, please just-"

The nanny grunts in pain as she's hit harshly in the nose by a six year old Tim, the boy disregarding any guilt or shame he has for taking his anger out on the caregivers, most of them are good people...he just needs to use them to get his parents attention again. The woman steps back in shock, raising a hand to feel her nose and wincing at the blood she feels dripping from it, that's it! She can't take this anymore; taking care of such an unruly pup. She's tried her best for a couple months now to be patient with him, the boy obviously has issues with his parents, but she can't put her health on the line anymore.

Tim screeches loudly while watching the beta leave, calming down enough to listen in on his parents as they realize another babysitter is being chased off. "Dana, where are you going? We need you to watch him for the week, we have a business trip, remember?" The pup clenches his small hands into his shirt as he pokes his head around the corner with a sniffle, blue eyes watching as his dad attempts to chase the beta down, one hundred dollar bills clasped within his hand as he waves them in Dana's face. "We'll raise your pay! It's not an issue for us, you know-"

Dana keeps her hand pressed to her nose, her eyes narrowing accusingly at Jack and Janet Drake as she turns to stare at them.

"I know you can't keep an eye on your own kid for two fucking seconds! Your kid has problems, okay? And I've tried to be patient, but I can't anymore! Just spend some time with him, that's all he wants." Dana hisses at her ex-employers while tugging on her jacket angrily, the glare softening up a bit as she catches a peek of Tim curiously looking over the corner towards his parents, "Goodbye Tim."

Janet reaches for the woman in a last ditch attempt to keep her in place, her mouth opening wide in shock as the beta slams the door in her face loudly. "Jack, what are we supposed to do!? We have a business meeting to go to! We can't watch after our mutt." Tim perks up as he's gestured at, wiping the tears from his eyes as he steps out from the corner and skips towards his parents almost giddily, tugging at his dad's suit pants. "Daddy-"

"I'm sure we can find someone last minute? Or he can stay home by himself...he seems like a capable young man."

Tim pouts as his dad speaks over him, but the fact his mom and dad are even talking about him is...everything and more to him. The boy stands a little taller as his mom looks at him, it's not the looks he remembers receiving from her, but at least it's something. "Capable? He...looks like he's a bit chubby, doesn't he? Have our nanny's been over feeding him? I don't think I remember him ever being this fat, they must have let him get into the snacks."

Janet pinches at her son's face experimentally, her eyebrows furrowing in worry. "Will him being over fed have an effect on his presentation?"

Jack Drake rolls his eyes at his wife's worrying, looking at his watch hurriedly. "If he's an omega, shouldn't we want him to be plump? Alphas enjoy breeding one's with meat on their bones...I think." Janet curls her lips in disgust, "Don't even say that about Timothy! We don't want him to be an omega, they are weak and useless, I've seen it with my own mother how good-for-nothing omegas are. He'll be an alpha."

Tim has no idea what his parents are talking about, but the way his mom tugs him protectively to her side causes him to trill happily.

"But if he were an omega, imagine how useful he could be to us and our business-" Jack pauses to give his wife time to process what he said, smiling victoriously at her curious look-"If he looks good enough and smells pleasing enough, he could help to sway any potential business partners into making deals with us. Imagine the cards we hold by letting them think they'll get a hold of our son." Janet looks away in thought before glancing down at Tim, "What good would that be to us? The one business partner we want to work with us not only is an omega himself, but takes his job seriously...now that he has a pup of his own at least. It's not like he'd be willing to sleep around anymore, and we don't even know if he's ever slept around with other omegas anyway."

Tim smiles up at his mom and pushes into the hand in his hair almost desperately, purring softly at the attention.

"It could all be lies, Janet. Bruce Wayne is easy, gives it up for just about anyone from what I've heard, I bet when Tim reaches a certain age, he'll at least think about it. And with Bruce's kind of influence and sway on people, do you not think he covers up his sex-capades." Jack looks out the window at the honking outside, checking his watch one last time with a sigh, "Our ride is here. It seems like we have to take Timothy with us this time...there's no time for a babysitter."

Janet frowns displeased, pushing her pup ahead of her with a groan. "It seems you'll be traveling with mother and father, Timothy."

————°————

Tim practically vibrates excitedly in his seat as he peers down his window at the earth below, things look so small from up here, but it's also very pretty. The pup chirps happily and turns towards his parents excitedly, ready to tell them how amazing flying is and how he's just happy they're paying attention to him again, but his shoulders slump pitifully when seeing his mom talking on the phone with someone, papers strewn about her table as she fuses with whoever is on the other line. His eyes look over hopefully towards his dad instead, only to cloud over with disappointment as the man clacks away on his computer. "Mommy-"

The beta shushes him harshly, narrowing her eyes disapprovingly at him for interrupting her phone call while making frantic gestures towards her husband, a motion that tells Tim to: 'go bother your father instead and leave me to my work.' Those are words that the boy is used to hearing on a daily basis, so, with a huff he turns toward his dad. "Daddy?"

The male beta doesn't respond, too engrossed in his work to hear his pup or pay attention to the boy hopping out of his chair and making his way slowly over to him. "Daddy?"

Tim blinks optimistically up at his dad, hoping that now because he's closer to the man, the other will finally notice his presence and at least glance his way. But, the older only continues to type away on his device, causing the boy to feel jealous over the keyboard and how it gets his father's touch, his stomach churning at the reminder that his mother's phone gets to hear her voice constantly, how she always seems to hold it in her hands as if it's her most treasured thing.

Tim sniffles and tries to hold back his tears, he remembers his mom telling him she dislikes children that act as babies and his dad reminding him that young men don't cry.

But...it's just so hard not to. All Tim wants is to be his dad's son again, desires to be his mom's little boy-he glares at the devices his parents are using enviously, is that the issue? He isn't being useful enough to his parents in the way that the devices are? Has he become too lazy and comfortable with his parents affection that he's started slacking off on his duties? He doesn't know what caused him to have this reaction-no, this outburst-but Tim snatches his father's computer from under his quick fingers, throwing it violently against the wall of the jet with an outraged cry, ignoring his father's surprised shout in favor of targeting his mother's phone next, his gaze fixed on the metal with hate as he charges towards her with a scream.

Janet's eyes widen, her hands fumbling for the mute button before lifting it away from her child, trying to push the boy away while making sure she hasn't hung up.

"Gimme...the...phone!"

Tim crawls over his mom, tears dripping down his face as his distressed scent escapes him, too focused on his present task to bother covering up his feelings as his parents have instructed him to. He grunts as he's held back and even pushed slightly by the beta, her tone clipped, "Tim Drake! Cut it out, now! You better not make me hang up-" Janet gasps in shock as a small hand slaps her cheek, her and the pup freezing in place as if they both are trying to process what just happened.

After a few seconds of silence, Tim whines loudly while tugging his mom forward by her suit jacket and snatching the phone from her hands in her state of shock, tossing it behind him and pressing closely to her chest in apology for putting his hands on her.

Janet seems to snap out of it when her phone is taken away from her, still too stunned in the moment to bother doing anything about it and just watching as it smacks loudly against one of the other tables. Her pup's souring scent causes her nose to sting in displeasure from the stench, her lips curling in disgust. "Timothy Jackson Drake." The pup tenses at the woman's eerily calm voice, a small cry escaping him as her hands tighten painfully on the nape of his neck while tugging him away from the warmth and comfort of her breasts, the tears falling harder as his only source of affection and love is taken away from him.

"You are a bad pup. Very bad."

Janet's tone takes on a rough timbre, a sound that's only used on pups when they particularly misbehave and won't listen to their parents, usually used as a last resort to command the pup into doing whatever it is you are asking them to do or not do...usually for their benefit when the child doesn't listen to any regular scolding.

But Tim doesn't understand it.

He can see her being upset over being hit and wanting to correct him on it...but doesn't she see the reason why he did it? It wasn't meant to hurt her or anything, he just...wants his mom and dad. And the only time they seem to pay attention to him is if he lashes out this way, he thought this is how he was supposed to get time with them. "M-Mommy-" he gets cut off by his own whining at the painful sting to his neck glands, his mother's nails digging into the sensitive flesh meanly. "M-Mommy-" Janet mocks-"Don't whine! You know I don't like the whining and the sniffling, Timothy. You know you don't put your hands on others, especially your parents."

Does he know that?

It's not as if Janet and Jack are around to teach him those things. If anything, it was his nanny that always told him that.

Tim opens up his mouth, planning on defending and explaining himself to his mother as to why he felt the need to do what he did. It's not that he meant to interrupt their business, but that they only seem to look his way when he acts out and chases off a nanny or gets in-between their work, that any other way proves useless if it's not him being disruptive to the company. It seems though that he won't be able to plead his case, because he can't even get a word out his throat, noises seem to be getting harder to make now as he's held in place by his mother.

Is he even breathing?

Janet shakes Tim out of his thoughts with a deep frown on her face, "You better hope that my phone isn't broken or else you are in even more trouble." She stands up abruptly, not concerned about her pup's body twitching in pain as he's dangling midair by his neck, his face growing pink as his airways are slowly cutoff. "You need to be put in time out. You can't continue to act like this, do you hear me? Time is money and money is time, yet you seem to not understand that yet, Timothy."

Tim looks to his dad for help, a bone chilling coldness spreading from the inside out at seeing the man is over near his computer, brows furrowed in genuine concern as he looks over the device, his hands brushing the screen carefully as he makes sure it still works.

The pup slumps in defeat as the realization of his circumstance sets in, feeling numb as his mom leads him to one of the smaller bathrooms on their private jet and harshly dumps him on the floor, not bothering to apologize for treating her own child so meanly as she says...something else to him, he can't really hear her over the blood rushing in his ears and the sound of his desperate gasps for air. Tim flinches as the door is slammed harshly in his face and something heavy pushed in front of it to keep him trapped inside, his eyes carefully observing the restroom before landing on the sinks lower cabinet and feeling the urge to crawl inside of it.

And crawl he does.

Tim whimpers quietly to himself as he pushes the items in the cabinet out to make space for himself, curling into a small ball as he hugs himself tightly, ignoring the lingering scent of his angry mother that clings to his clothes as he closes his eyes to rest.

————°————

Blue eyes open in panic, glazed over in confusion at the plush feeling underneath him. Tim sits up in bed confused, his nose twitching as he scents the unfamiliar room, hope poking at his mind with the thought that everything that happened was actually just a bad dream, but the slight sting to his neck stamps on that hope and tells it otherwise. "Daddy? Mommy?" His voice is soft and scratchy as he calls out for them, allowing some anxiety to creep into his tone in the hopes that maybe their minds have changed, that maybe they will rush to his bedside with an apology on their tongues and regret in their gazes as they scoop him into their arms and promise that things will change from here on out.

Tim gives up on calling them after a couple of minutes, hot tears pricking at his eyes as he realizes that they left him, for the meeting they've been going on about most likely, but it still doesn't make the acceptance any easier to come to terms with. The pup sniffles and crawls out of bed, looking down at his clothes and feeling a sharp stab of pain in his chest at seeing himself still in his daywear. I guess he wasn't important enough to change clothes? He looks down at his feet and feels an odd sense of contentment seeing that his shows are gone at least...at least they care enough to take them off for him, right?

His stomach growling loudly interrupts the spiraling thoughts, the six year old biting his lip as he scrubs at his wet eyes.

Tim slowly steps closer to the door, indecisive on whether to find food himself or not, making his decision to leave the room as his stomach growls again. The child exits the room and looks left and right carefully, perking up at seeing a small group of people heading left towards the elevators and following them, ignoring their curious looks as he pushes his way on with them. "Where's the cafeteria?"

The adults have already ignored him in favor of talking their business or vacation plans with each other, the pup sighing sadly at how he can't even get other grown-ups to pay attention.

A light tap to his shoulder startles Tim, the small boy turning around and looking up into the friendly eyes of a teenager, the alpha smiling kindly down at him. "You said you were looking for the cafeteria, right?" Tim nods shyly and shifts from foot to foot. "Funny thing is that I was just heading down there! I can take you there if you want? Though, uhhh-" the young alpha glances at the distracted adults inquisitively-"are one of these folks your parents?" Tim doesn't know how to feel at the larger hand carefully wrapping around his own, his small fingers instinctively clenching down at the feeling of warmth as he shakes his head. "No. My parents said that they would...meet me in the cafeteria, that's what they said." The look the teen gives him causes the pup to look away in fear that he'll find out his lie, luckily enough, the older boy ends up smiling instead and guiding him out the elevator with a soft tug to his hand.

"That's alright! Do you mind if you eat with me and my family for today? We can keep an eye on ya while waiting for your parents to come get you."

Tim knows that he should say no...there are a million things wrong with this plan, one of them being that this young alpha and his family will realize his parents are never coming to get him because they already left. But, the way the older looks excitedly-even hopefully-down at him, causes Tim to slowly nod in agreement. "O-Okay? Are you sure they won't mind me intruding? Breakfast is a special occasion, isn't it?"

The alpha raises a brow and chuckles, something in his eyes sparkling in amusement as he says: "Trust me. My mom won't mind you at all, and neither will my grandpa. It's actually been awhile since either of them has had the company of a pup, so I think it will make their day." The older grows silent before slapping his head animatedly, "How could I be so rude? I forgot to introduce myself-" he leads Tim to the back of the line and looks down at the boy openly once they are in place-"The name's Richard Grayson, but everyone who's my friend calls me Dick, nice to meet ya." Tim messes with his shirt nervously and nods politely, "Timothy Drake. But you can call me Tim for short."

Richard smiles brightly when the younger gives him a cute, lopsided smile, handing the boy a plate when they get closer to the food. "Drake? Do you mean you're the son of Jack and Janet Drake? That's pretty cool, Tim, I bet you guys have lots of fun together? They seem to take their work very seriously, so I can only imagine how they take family life. What do you want?"

Tim doesn't know what to focus on first, all the questions were asked extremely quickly and in quick succession, barely giving the pup time to think of a response. But it's fine...he doesn't even know how he would respond to them, he doesn't exactly have fun with his parents, and he knows that he can't just outright tell the older boy that his parents ignore him. "Uh...w-whatever they have up there is fine with me." And he means that too, it's been awhile since he's tasted anything really delicious, the only time he eats properly is if a nanny of his actually cooked-and to be honest-it was usually a hit or miss situation with the caretakers, especially since not all of them were properly looked into.

Sometimes Tim got caretakers that forgot about him just liked his parents do.

Richard hums thoughtfully before dumping a pile of bacon, eggs and fruit on the child's dish, the pup's protests being ignored with the loud exclamation of, "growing pups need to eat!"

Tim pouts and allows the alpha to do as he pleases, looking over the cafeteria and perking up at seeing a coffee machine, his small hands tugging at Richard's sweatpants hurriedly. "I wanna drink some of that! It tastes good." At the pup's insistence, the teen looks to where the boy is pointing, scrunching his nose in displeasure at the drink he's pointing at. "Decaf coffee? You must not have tasted any real coffee before, you need to drink it caffeinated in order to enjoy it properly."

Tim tilts his head in confusion, frowning as the older waves his free hand frantically. "Not that you should be drinking coffee yet! I'm a mature almost adult, thank you, so please don't let my mom know that I was supportive of you drinking it."

His...mom?

"Your mommy? Where is your mommy?" The pup turns his head in search of the teens parent, grunting softly as he's finally handed his overfilled plate.

"He's somewhere at one of those tables, or maybe not? He might have gotten a private area depending on it-people always trying to speak to him during resting hours, you know?" Richard dumps a healthy amount of food into his plate, snagging a small box of cheap breakfast cereal the hotel surprisingly has in his hand, salivating at the thought of the heavily processed food on his tongue. "Come on, little guy, right this way." A gentle hand sets itself on Tim's head as it guides him around the tables, the walk seeming not to stop until they reach a set of French doors, the alpha sticking his tongue out in concentration as he lifts his foot to the door handle and presses it down to open it.

Tim looks up at the older one more time, his eyes apprehensive and curious as to if him being here is actually okay, reassured as the teen just chuckles and nudges him forward with a small tap to his calf.

The pup shuffles forward with his plate held in both hands, his nose twitching at the sweet-but not overly sweet-scent that fills the room. This isn't from any of the food, that much Tim knows, nothing in the cafeteria smelled this delicious, this...right, no, this is the smell of an omega. "Whoever is out there...please, go away and at least wait until I'm done eating to ask me questions or make business deals. I-" Tim freezes in place as the prettiest pair of blue eyes turn to look at him, the stern look immediately being replaced with a soft look of pleasant surprise. "Oh!? I'm sorry, pup. Are you okay? Are you lost?"

Tim opens and closes his mouth, unsure of what to say as he flounders for a proper response.

"He's not lost, B!" Richard chirrups excitedly, pushing Tim forward a little more as if he's a cat that caught a gift for its owner and is eager to present it. "I found him in the elevator! He was heading my way-which was to the cafeteria-and I decided he could eat with us since he said he's waiting for his parents."

The omega knows he should ask his son what 'finding him' means, and if the pup's parents even know that he's here with them, but the sight of this small boy holding a plate that looks too big and heavy for his hands causes him to soften. His eyes glistening fondly at the physical signs of the boy's nervousness as he shifts from foot to foot, his gaze being drawn to the socked feet as the small appendage pushes down his rising pant leg. "Pup, where are your shoes? You came down here without any shoes on? Did no one dress you up before bringing you to eat?"

The omega's voice is probing, but not void of any kindness, the man gesturing him forward with an outstretched palm as he finally takes notice of the mountain of food sitting on the boy's plate.

"Richard, why did you give him so much food? Poor thing can barely carry it."

Tim blinks in shock as the omega stands up and helps him carry his plate, pulling out the chair next to him and helping the small boy climb into it, a pleased noise escaping him as he looks at the contents of the plate. "You have fruit? You gave him fruit, Dickybird?"

The teen chuckles and sits next to Alfred, nodding his head and puffing out his chest in pride. "Yup! You always told me growing up that growing pups need food and lots of rest, and I knew if you didn't see any fruits or veggies on his plate that you'd be mad at me for not thinking of his health." Bruce gives a small smile at his son before turning his attention back onto the pup, "I'm glad you could join us for breakfast today, don't worry about not eating everything on your plate, okay? I'm Bruce Wayne, can I ask your name?"

Tim blinks in shock at the name, why does it sound so familiar? The pup continues to stare up at the omega, his little brows scrunching in thought before lifting in surprise, no wonder the name sounds so familiar, Bruce Wayne is the omega his parents were talking about back at home.

Tim shakes himself out of his thoughts, licking his lips nervously before stretching out his hand to shake. "Timothy Drake...but y-you can call me Tim." Maybe it's the neglect skewing his perception of Bruce? Maybe it's the affectionate look the omega is giving to him? Heck, maybe it's the soft and gentle hands carefully shaking his own that make Tim think that maybe he's not so bad. Whatever the reason is, the pup feels something warm nudging at his heart, slowly replacing that lonely feeling with something...familiar? Yes, familiar. The more he looks at those icy eyes sparkling with care and love for a pup that's not even his, it reminds Tim of the way his mommy used to stare at him once upon a time.

Bruce's humored-but gentle-voice wraps around Tim's ears like a warm hug, gently pushing through the insecurities and doubts that have built up within him with the confidence of a man who knows his power, who knows that he doesn't need to use much force to get his way but just needs to simply speak and others listen.

That's how Tim feels as those doubtful inner voices bow out to let Bruce through.

"Oh? And you're a little gentleman too?" Bruce tries not to look too amused at the stupefied look the pup gives him, he can tell that the boy is being serious. "And did you say Drake? You mean like Drake Industries? Your parents have been really persistent in trying to get me to work with them."

A sudden thought pops into Tim's mind; what if he introduces his parents to Bruce for them? So far the omega seems to like him...so what if he's more open to making a deal with his mom and dad? What if...what if him doing this for them makes them notice him again? Things will go back to the way they used to be: his mom cuddling with him in bed as she plays with his hair and tells him stories, his dad chasing him around the house and ruffling his hair fondly whenever he does something good, both his parents tucking him in goodnight and tickling him when he keeps trying to get out of bed and follow them.

Maybe if he proves to them that he's useful to the business, they'll realize that he's also good enough to be their son.

With a renewed determination, Tim chirps happily and finally releases Bruce's hand while leaning forward eagerly. "But my mommy and daddy are reeeeeally good people! They talk about you lots and all the things your companies could do together if you ever gave them a chance-" maybe that's not exactly true? He's heard his parents say some not so nice things about the omega before out of anger, but he doesn't need to know that-"They are just determined and ready to expand the growth of their business to help others!"

Bruce's eyes widen at Tim's sudden enthusiasm, his lips twitching up at the boy's determination. "I know that, Tim...but I am very careful on who exactly I conduct my business with. That and my secretary schedule's meetings based off the most important to the-" he pauses at the look of defeat on the boy's face, purring softly to comfort the pup-"Look, Tim, it isn't that your family or their business isn't important. That's not what I'm trying to convey to you, but, your mother and father's business-let alone-their names are fairly new to the world of business. I admit that they have done a lot of work recently to put their names out there, and I have been looking into the work they do." At Tim's disbelieving stare, Bruce smiles reassuringly and nods his head at the boy. "It's true, I have. I just haven't contacted them yet because I was still looking into them to make sure they are worth meeting with, but I have to say pup, you make a convincing argument on your parents behalf. You'll be a businessman in no time."

The genuine praise does something to Tim, the pup squeaking happily as he looks at the omega in awe, quickly turning back to his food when the older man reminds him it's getting cold.

He doesn't know how long he spent time with Bruce...but somewhere deep inside of the pup, he doesn't want it to end.

Despite all of his desires to gain his parents love and attention, there's a little voice somewhere in Tim's brain that anxiously whispers about them never noticing him again for the stunt he pulled on the jet, about how there's nothing that he can do to ever be enough for his mom and dad. It's a voice that the pup has been fighting against ever since he's noticed this weird shift in his dynamic with the adults, I mean, he's not stupid and he has eyes that work just fine.

It's just...

He doesn't want to believe that part of him that knows the reality of his situation, that knows exactly how things have changed and even how there's no returning to old times

It's a truth that would be too hard for anyone to handle--but a six year old? Yeah, that would be even harder for a child to grasp that their parents don't love as they used to before...that maybe their parents never actually loved them that way, that it was all an act for cameras and company; that maybe they did love him that way, but only once and never again.

"I have to get going, Tim. Are your parents coming?"

Tim breathes in sharply at the question, schooling his features as much as he can before replying: "Hm? Oh, yeah! U-Umm...I...lied."

Bruce shares a quick look with his dad and son before turning back to the pup, "You lied? How? Are you-" Richard cuts the omega off, leaning in towards Tim eagerly, his eyes glistening with an intense delight that the boy has never seen before despite his voice sounding calm. "Do you not have parents? Did you sneak in?"

A harsh nudge from Alfred seems to sober the young alpha back down from his excitement.

"I mean, that's not what I meant to make it sound like, I'm sorry. I hope your parents are still alive, having dead parents really sucks-I'll stop putting my foot in my mouth and shut up now."

Tim tilts his head curiously and turns back to Bruce, "My parents are still alive-" did someone just sigh-"I just meant that they aren't waiting for me...because...because I left the room without them knowing. They said that they were really tired after the flight here and-and fell to sleep as soon as they got to the room." The look the omega gives Tim is similar to the one Richard gave him in the elevator, something about it makes the boy feel as though they can see right through him, that they know he's lying. But, Bruce just nods with a small smile on his face, the look just as disarming as his alpha son's. "Alright, we'll take you back to your room then. I don't want you alone."

Tim bites his lip and-in a moment of desperation-rushes out of his seat to hug onto the omega tightly, burying his face into the soft material of his pants while fisting the man's sweatshirt in his fists.

The pup stiffens up in surprise at the feeling of arms wrapping around him before he melts against the omega's legs, unconsciously letting his scent release, too caught up in the moment to be concerned on the intense scent of desperation, want and relief mixed into his milky aroma. Tim sinks further into the warmth, scenting Bruce's neck when the omega kneels down to his level and nuzzles at him carefully, the scent of the other is soothing in a way that his mom's scent used to be...maybe even still is, but the too quick change in their relationship has made the pup recoil at the scent, the relief of the beta's smell being replaced with trepidation as it always turns sour whenever he's around.

But Bruce...

Bruce's scent is pleasantly soft and sweet with a hint of spice: vanilla, a hint of rose, cinnamon and cardamom. It makes Tim want to stay wrapped up in his arms forever, he is giving the pup everything that he's been looking for in his parents back to him with one embrace. "Shh...it's okay, Tim." Soft hands wipe at the pup's face tenderly, the boy confused as to when he even started to cry, but the soothing rumble of Bruce's omegan call eases Tim's mind and only causes him to press closer to enjoy the gentle back rubbing the other is giving him.

Bruce gives a look to Alfred over the child's shoulder before returning to comforting the pup.

"Timothy, what-" Jack Drake bursts through the French doors, his annoyed scent turning to one of surprise as he sees that the phone call he received wasn't a joke...Bruce Wayne actually called him and Janet. "Mr. Wayne! Is everything alright?" The beta swallows nervously under the omega's stern look, slowly stepping forward until he's close enough to bend down and grab his pup, shushing the boy as he whines and squirms. "We weren't even aware that Timothy left the room."

Bruce purses his lips and nods, "I'm well aware. I understand jet lag is rough on the body, but please, try to keep an eye on your pup."

Before Jack can even ask what he means, Tim's voice croaks in his ear. "I told Mr. Bruce that you and mommy fell to sleep after we landed, you two were tired after the flight and didn't notice me leave." Jack raises his brow but gives a small, almost imperceptible, smirk at the cover-up, the pup must have not wanted them to be in trouble for leaving him unattended in the hotel room. "O-Of course, Mr. Wayne, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience. Are you alright, pup? You aren't hurt, are you?" Tim pauses at the question, his little nose twitching in interest at the scent of concern his dad releases, a small feeling of hope rising within him as he slowly-cautiously-leans his head down to scent his dad, giggling softly when the man nuzzles him back. "D-Daddy!"

Jack smiles softly, his hands gently ruffling his pup's hair to comfort him while releasing his pleasantly mild scent.

"It's alright, son, I'm sorry for not paying more attention to you today, alright? Mr. Wayne...I apologize for any trouble-" Jack immediately closes his mouth at the omega lifting up his hand in a-stop-gesture, the beta's eyes widening at the business card the other slips out of his wallet and extends to him.

"Your son has made a very convincing argument on you and Mrs. Drake's behalves today-" he smiles kindly at the pup-"He told me that you both work so hard to make the world a better place with your inventions and plans. You both always call my office at least twice a month to see if I've changed my mind, so I at least know you aren't quitters, expect a call from my secretary so she can book a date for us to talk. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Drake." Bruce nods politely at the beta and gestures for his family to follow him out, taking a second to look at Tim warmly with a small nod, "And it was a pleasure to talk to you, Tim. Goodbye."

Tim grips his dad's suit jacket at the sight of Bruce leaving, his inner pup calling out softly to the omega in goodbye, trying to ignore the sad feeling churning in his gut as the man disappears around the corner with his family.

Why is he even sad?

Isn't his dad's affection what he wished for?

Tim shakes his head and nuzzles his nose back into Jack's neck, humming contentedly as he isn't put down or pushed away, but hugged closer as his dad rushes out the room and towards the elevators, his foot tapping impatiently as he waits for the elevator to reach the main floor.

The next thing Tim knows is that he's back in the hotel room, the irritated scent of his mother causing him to bury his face further into his dad's neck. "Why are you babying him, Jack? Why were we even called-what? Why are you smiling at me like that?" The boy takes a chance to peak out from his hiding spot in his dad's neck, staring up at the pleased look his dad wears as he holds up Bruce Wayne's business card triumphantly. "I knew having a pup would come in handy! Look what Tim got for us!"

Janet narrows her eyes suspiciously at the card, growling softly at her husband's shaky hands and snatching the card from him so she can read it properly, her scent confused before bursting forth with excitement and shock. "Are you serious!? He-Bruce Wayne? He really ran into Bruce Wayne of all people?!"

Jack smiles wide; victoriously, lowering Tim down to the floor and shaking him off when the boy tries to cling to him. "I know right! I was right when saying that he'd take a liking to our pup, and can you believe that Timothy put in a good word for us? Bruce said that we should be expecting a call from his secretary sometime." Janet stares at the business card incredulously before chuckling and hugging her husband, catching Tim off guard as affection isn't something he really sees from his parents towards each other anymore, but...it feels good seeing his mom and dad jump up and down like two kids in a candy store, he is the cause of that.

Tim looks between his embracing parents in relief at seeing something familiar again, chirping excitedly as he squeezes between the two and grips onto their clothes, stamping down that small voice that tells him this moment won't last forever.

————°————

Tim doesn't know why he ever listened to that voice in his head? He doesn't know why he insisted on convincing himself that things between him and his parents would get better from there.

He was wrong.

He was so very wrong, that much he can admit. The doting and praise lasted the rest of that very day, but as soon as the next day hit, they went back to business-if anything, their obsession over meeting with Bruce Wayne became even worse after actually getting a phone number, everyday was spent looking at their phones twice as much and keeping their email open just in case Wayne Enterprises messaged them.

Now Tim is so much older and wiser. Even though he's only nine, he is sharp in a way he wasn't when he was six, or maybe it's that he's finally allowed himself to not be held back by his own obsession with his parents love?

The point is: he's finally allowed himself to grow beyond them.

Now he's focused on Batman, this enigmatic character that has risen above Gotham as its defender in the night, as the watchman in the shadows against the filth this city holds.

Following Batman has been his favorite past time...that and following Bruce Wayne. He knows it's not...ideal to keep tabs on the omega so closely, but ever since that day at the hotel when the man wrapped him in his arms, it's been an experience on his mind everyday and every night since then. Tim has always desired to get close to the omega again...his parents definitely had enough meetings with the man for him to see him again, but every time he thought about it, he got scared of Bruce's opinion on him changing.

The unwanted thoughts always held him back: 'what if I'm not enough?' 'what if I'm not what he needs?' 'what if it was all an act? Your parents did it before, so why would he not with you?' But...Bruce has been his light at the end of the dark tunnel known as his life, the memory and phantom feelings of a warm hug being one of the only things to keep him from being crushed under the overwhelming weight of the loneliness clinging to his heart everyday, keeping him sane from the thoughts that poke and prod at his restless mind.

Now Batman is another new obsession.

It's not everyday that you see a vigilante with a kid for a sidekick/partner. And the way that he's seen the man treat Robin makes Tim envious of the boy, why is it that a crime fighter gets a better caretaker in his life rather than Tim? Is he living his life in a way that is causing him to not be noticed or wanted by anyone?

Tim doesn't know what it is, but either way, he has been trying to get near Batman for awhile now.

Trying to get the man to notice him and take him in-he can be useful to him! If only he could just prove that to the Bat, surely the other would see what he's capable of and take him in without a doubt. I mean, the other hasn't had a problem doing that with two other pups, so why would it suddenly be an issue for him? Tim licks his lips anxiously, shifting from foot to foot in an old tell of how nervous he actually feels. The pup peeks over the corner, analyzing the rooftop he climbed onto in search of Batman and Robin, they should be arriving soon...he made sure he got the location right tonight, because tonight will be the night that he meets the supposed alpha, he won't settle for anything less any longer.

From his years of careful research and learning Batman's patterns, he knows that this rooftop is a place he and Robin usually visit after every patrol-and unless there's another crime to rush to-there's no conceivable reason for the vigilante to skip coming here tonight.

Tim jumps awake at a, 'whoosh', sound coming from behind his hiding spot. The boy shaking himself awake and taking a deep breath before looking over to where he heard the noise, his lips lowering to a confused frown as he searches the rooftop for Batman.

"I don't think you should be up this high."

Tim squeaks in panic and turns around too quickly, tripping over his feet and falling onto his butt as he stares up at...Clark Kent? Blue eyes blink up in shock at the sight of the reporter in a Superman cosplay, looking the man up and down carefully, his eyes only widening as the mild mannered reporter floats above the ground.

Oh. My. Freaking. Gosh!

Clark Kent is Superman and Superman is Clark Kent.

Tim gets lost in his thoughts, completely unaware of the alpha's growing concern the longer he keeps silent. It makes sense as to why he always thought the man looked familiar, at the time, he didn't really pay the familiar feeling any mind due to being obsessed focused on Bruce Wayne...but it turns out the feeling was because the "beta" is actually an alpha named Superman.

Metropolises most beloved hero is actually a bumbling reporter with a crush on Bruce Wayne. He wonders if Lois Lane knows yet.

Superman softly lands on the ground, extending his hand towards the pup slowly, as if he's trying not to scare a wild animal. "Hey, pup, are you alright? What are you doing up here? This building is really high, so I'd imagine you are pretty cold." It seems as if those words cause Tim to shiver, hm...I guess he was so distracted in his wait for Batman that he didn't process his own coldness. "Can I give you my cape? It'll keep you warm no matter what temperature." Those words bring out the little detective in Tim, he wants to ask so many questions about the material and even if Superman needs the cape himself because he can feel the cold, or if it's more so for any civilians he saves and needs to fly to somewhere safe.

But he can't...not now.

Tim only wants to be wrapped up in Batman's cape, in the exact same way that Robin is whenever he's around the man. "I don't need your cape, Superman. I'm just fine on my own, thanks."

The Kryptonian sighs at the horribly familiar words, his deep blue eyes looking Tim up and down curiously. "Don't tell me you are one of Batman's too? I...wouldn't imagine he'd leave you here alone and without warm clothes." Tim wipes the dirt off his clothes and hands, his interest only growing at the defeated look in the alpha's eyes, does-does he think that Tim isn't fit to be Batman's partner?

The boy growls as fiercely as he can, a small squeak escaping him in his attempts to be intimidating. "I'll have you know that while I'm not his partner yet, I have plenty of skills that will be beneficial to Batman!"

Superman steps back in shock, raising his hands in defeat and crooning at the distressed pup apologetically, the noise embarrassing Tim from how quickly he feels like nuzzling into the man. "Woah there, buddy? That's not what I meant, okay? And what do you mean by skills? You...you don't need to do anything to get the man to want you-" he looks away pitifully and murmurs-"not unless you're an alien from Krypton that is." Those words cause Tim to stop his growling, his look skeptical as he tilts his head, he thought that Superman was in love with Bruce not Batman?

"Wait...but I thought you liked B-"

A deep voice interrupts Tim's question, "Superman. I thought I told you to stop showing up here?" Both the alpha and pup startle at the vigilante's sudden appearance, the former smiling bashfully at the other while the latter gasps softly in awe.

"I know you did...but I like seeing you, is that so bad?"

Robin steps out from underneath Batman's cape, his face displeased at the sight of the alpha. "I thought B also said he didn't want to see your ugly mug? Stay away from him, Superman." The pup is called back to the man's side, the boy humming contentedly at the gloved hands gently raking through his hair, "I didn't call him ugly, Robin. Though I did-" the alpha stops to scent the air, his gaze suddenly turning towards Tim and keeping him in place, a sharp inhale taken in as he notices the other pup's presence-"Oh!? I'm sorry, pup. I didn't see you there. Are you okay? Are you lost?"

That tone...it's oddly soothing-silky-in a way that only one other person's was before. But that person was Bruce Wayne...surely Batman actually isn't-

"Are you alright? Do you need medical attention?" Batman takes a cautious step forward with his hands raised, freezing in surprise at the pup's laughter. "It's you, it's you, it's you! It's really you! I've been searching night and day for you and you're here." Tim shakes with excitement, scrambling forward until he gets close enough to the Bat, he would've gotten closer, but Robin steps in-between the omega protectively.

"Are you high or something?" Robin-Jason-whimpers softly at the gentle slap he receives to his head. "What!? This kid's not makin' any sense."

Tim manages to stand tall despite the slightly aggressive smell the other pup is giving off, he's obviously in the process of developing his own scent as a much more mature one is mixing in with the milky smell of a pup. "I'm here to be Batman's partner! I promise that I can provide a lot of aid to your mission! I won't get in the way!" Robin releases himself from his defensive stance, snorting in disbelief while glancing up at his mom. "He's gotta be joking? What kind of freak show is this?"

Tim balls up his fists and shakes his head furiously, afraid that if he doesn't say something now, Batman will ignore him or turn him away.

"I'm not a freak! I'm being serious! D-Do you know how much time I've put into this?! Every night for three years I have been studying you all's patterns, learning your schedules and keeping tabs on where your next fight will be in the hopes of catching you guys."

Robin takes a step back from the outburst, his sharp look-that Tim can't see-being replaced with one of concern for the younger boy in front of him. "I-...you stalked us? Don't you have a family to go back to or something? Why waste your time doing this? And if you have been following us this whole time, why haven't you ever introduced yourself before?" The younger pup fists at his clothes, once again shifting from foot to foot nervously as he responds, "B-Because I wasn't ready yet. I had to make sure that when I met Batman that everything about me was...prepared."

Tim is unbothered by Robin cringing at the information, all he's focused on is Batman and what he thinks of him. So far so good, he thinks. The omega hasn't pulled away in disgust, neither has he yelled at him to go away, so that must count for something?

Batman gently moves Robin aside, kneeling to Tim's level and grabbing the small hands within his own, rubbing the knuckles repeatedly with his thumbs. "Puppy, I...appreciate your eagerness to help me on this mission, but it's a very hard mission, and-" Tim shuffles forward a little, moving his hand to Batman's cape and gripping it tightly in his hands. "B-But what about your two Robins? They got to fight crime from a young age despite everything, t-they got to help you, why can't I? I-please? I promise that I can do a lot of work. I won't complain or anything-please? I just want to be with you."

Batman does his very best to beat down his instincts to take Tim home, he would in a heartbeat...really, he would, but...

"Your parents, pup. I'm sure they'd be worried about you. So, I think you should head home-" Tim feels his heart stop as that familiar warmth departs from him, frozen in place as Batman pulls away and stands up, pushing the boy closer to the Kryptonian gently-"Superman, can you take him home?"

Tim has no words as he's carefully wrapped up in Superman's red cape, that bone chilling coldness he's adapted to over the years consuming him as he's slowly lifted into the alpha's arms, hot tears pouring down his face unwillingly as the distance between him and Bruce grow further and further apart. "No-" his voice is but a cracked whisper-"No! G-Get off me-Batman, please! I don't w-wanna go home!" Superman shouts as the pup starts squirming mid-air, the alpha trying to calm the pup down and only receiving small fangs to his arm for his efforts. "Get off! Batman! P-Please!"

Superman touches down onto the ground again, lowering himself to the floor gently with the trembling pup in his firm hold, gently shushing the boy as he falls limp.

"W-Why?"

Tim whimpers and digs the palm of his hands into his wet eyes, "W-Why don't y-you remember m-me?" The boy sniffles and chokes on his spit, his breathing picking up as he panics. "W-Why doesn't anyone remember m-me? I can be a g-good pup-" he looks up at Bruce, seeing beyond the mask, because that's who he first admired the most-"M-Mama."

Batman whimpers at the broken noise and rushes to Tim, knees slamming into the rooftop floor as he snatches the troubled pup to his chest, cooing to the boy in reassurance while sending a warning growl Superman's way.

How dare he try to separate him from his pup.

"Timothy Jackson Drake-my little Tim-I...I never forgot you, pup. I always thought about you since the day we met-you-I-" he takes a deep breath in to calm himself-"You reeked of sadness and I did my best to help, even in that short amount of time we knew each other. I had always hoped that your mother and father would bring you to our meetings...but I never saw you, and I know things in Gotham kept me busy, but I never forgot you once."

That icy feeling in his bones is replaced by a warmth at his full name being said by Bruce. He...really did remember him? It wasn't just an experience that Tim let get into his head too much?

"T-Then why?"

Tim sniffles, rubbing his dripping nose on the dark cape, "Why can't I join you? M-My parents won't care, I-I promise they won't!" Batman frowns at that information, tucking the boy under his chin and wrapping his cape around the small frame protectively. "Tim...where are your parents? Did they..."

It's easy to fill in the blanks.

Tim shakes his head and murmurs, "Business trip. Couple weeks now. T-They never remember me."

The angry growl released from Bruce warms Tim to his core, just to know the omega thinks of him as one of his in some way is a relief. He knows that they'll need to talk about boundaries later, and there's still a part of him that hurts horribly at knowing his biological parents don't want him...but at least Bruce does, he imprinted on the man when they met.

The soft click of Superman's cape attaching back onto his suit causes both Tim and Bruce to look up at the worried alpha. "Is...everything okay? You two...uh, met before?"

Tim squints suspiciously at the jealous glint in the man's eyes...is he...jealous of a pup, really? Wait! Maybe he's thinking about it all wrong? If Clark Kent has a crush on Bruce Wayne, and Superman constantly visits this rooftop in hopes of seeing Batman, that could mean that A: Superman has a crush on both and it's a coincidence that he's flirting with the same man, or 2: Superman knows Batman's identity and is beating around the bush by following both personas instead of being an alpha about it and confessing.

Batman stands up with Tim held securely in his arms, the pup's theory being confirmed simply at the way the alpha looks lovingly at the omega for cradling a pup to his side.

And that's a look Tim has seen Clark Kent make many times towards Bruce Wayne at galas and no one else.

"We did." Batman finally answers the alpha's question.

Superman nods slowly, scratching his head restlessly, his lips pursing slightly in thought before speaking: "How? Was...uh...did you meet Tim's father? Do you two know each other or something?" Tim takes a glance towards Batman when his grip tightens on him, the omega's posture radiating bashfulness from the questions. Hm? So Batman does know Superman's identity too. The omega has only ever reacted this shyly towards one humble, Midwestern reporter.

"My father and B are great friends! Batman here even gave my dad a way to contact him, you know?" Blue eyes take notice of the alpha's clenched fists, his eyes sparkling mischievously as they are only confirming his theories.

"Oh? And is your father a hero too?"

Tim opens his mouth to respond, being stopped by a gloved hand covering his mouth, imagining the glare the omega is directing towards the alpha for his prodding. "And why is that of any concern to you? It's my business who I hand my personal information out to." The silence between the two heroes is tense, the alpha conceding with an apologetic smile and an awkward chuckle. "You are...absolutely right, Batman. I don't know what came over me." The Kryptonian trails off, eyeing the shorter man closely as he nuzzles into Tim, his night blue eyes longingly looking at the two and causing the pup to sigh tiredly.

It hasn't even been that long and he's already tired of seeing their willful ignorance of each other's identities.

"You know, I just don't see why I haven't gotten a way to contact you."

Tim grows confused at the groan coming from Batman and Robin, this must be a topic that comes up often, each time being met with the denial of any personal information or way of contact. "We've been over this, Superman, if I need your help-which I don't-then I can call for you. You have super hearing, so you don't need a way to contact me."

The alpha and omega startle at Tim speaking up, "One rule of thumb for any businessman is don't mix pleasure with your biz."

Superman's gaze is quizzical, his deep blue's shifting from Batman to Tim for answers, the pup sighing and gesturing from Clark to Bruce. "I've heard that Mr. Wayne has been looking into buying the Daily Planet-" he tries to hold in his smirk at the omega's breath hitching in surprise-"Do you know what that means, Superman?" The alpha visibly deflates, "He's not looking for a relationship?" The pup facepalms, "I've heard the Daily Planet has a humble reporter named Clark Kent. He's someone I've seen at galas always making goo goo eyes at Bruce Wayne." At those words, Superman clears his throat with a nervous laugh, trying to ignore the sound of blood rushing to Batman's face from underneath the mask.

"Why would I be interested in knowing t-that?"

Tim smirks, "Because...I know you know Lois Lane, Clark Kent's best friend. Maybe you'd be willing to tell her so she can tell Clark, that Bruce Wayne is just as goo goo eyed at Clark Kent than he is with him. Though, I think if either of them had working eyeballs, they'd see what's in front of them already." The emphasis on the last few words cause Superman and Batman to pause, the two standing as still as statues before the alpha laughs loudly while the omega uses the pup in his arms as a barrier between him and Clark when the taller steps closer to him. "I...wasn't sure if you figured it out yet. I knew the day I lead you and Jason up to your room-" Bruce's voice is soft as he finishes the sentence, "The interaction was familiar. You...you found out at the same time?"

Tim nuzzles into Bruce's suit before hopping out of his arms, giving the adults time to speak to each other properly, yelping as Robin slings his arm around his neck and pulls him in close, nuzzling his hair fondly with an excited smile on his face.

"Welcome to the family, Tim!"

The pup chirps in pleasant surprise, nuzzling into his new older brother as he lets the taller scent him, his eyes watering with happiness as he whispers in disbelief, "Yeah...my family."

(Beginning of notes from AO3–I know this chapter wasn't as...full blown protective for a specific reason, but him defending Tim from his self-deprecation and sadness counts, right? 😂 I just really wanted to focus on a neglect-ish kind of aspect here and not anything necessarily big or grand like traumatic flashbacks (necessarily) or mean socialites, instead, it's mean parents.

To explain Clark's defeated look when seeing Tim, he's just afraid that all these pups means Bruce is taken and in a relationship lol. Oh! And excuse Jason's brashness here, he was speaking harshly cause he was protective of his mom is all, but he recognized the loneliness in Tim's voice quite quickly and softened up.

I am a firm believer that Bruce's children adopted him just as much as he chose to do to them 😂. In this story, they all kind of quickly imprint on him. Also, Tim's attachment to Bruce's is obviously implied at him recognizing a familiarity in the way the omega interacted with him...so, he kind of saw him as his "new" mother when they first met, all because Bruce treated him kindly.

Tim will obviously get help for that over the years, and he does genuinely see Bruce as his mom, it's not just a desperation there. I just wanted to focus on his frantic thoughts more.

Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. You are are truly loved and greatly appreciated! 💛–End of notes from AO3.)

Links to: Part 1: The Interview, Part 2: The Gala.

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