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captain-joongz · 1 month ago

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Penny for your ghosts; chapter 1

Pairing: OT7!BTS x f!reader

Genre: hybrid au, supernatural au, ghost hunting au (based on Lockwood&Co lore), found family, fluff and humour, some angst, eventual smut

Chapter summary: Hoping for a new beginning, you make a decision and end up at Bangtan Inc. looking for a chance. And somehow unbeknownst to you make a life-defining choice.

Chapter word count: 10k

Next part | Series masterlist

Warnings: not much really - a lot of exposition and some spooky stuff happening, sad ghost backstory, jimin is a little shit, yoongi being effortlessly waaaay too hot while also being adorable and sweet

A/N: here we go folks, the first chapter of our sweet autumnal spooky story! i had such a blast writing this, it's been so amazing to work with the Lockwood&Co universe (it made me reread the first book, again), and this story satisfies something in me that yearns for comfort and coziness, so enjoy! as always, i'd love any kind of feedback or response, so don't be shy and comment, reblog, send me an ask!

divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics

Standing face to face with the old-timey mansion, I didn’t really know how to feel.

It looked fairly inconspicuous in the daylight – just another old expensive house built on this street. It was half hidden behind a stone wall, the wrought iron gate giving me a little peek into the bleary autumnal garden slowly getting covered up with fallen leaves.

There was an iron sign nailed to the wall that read “BANGTAN INC., paranormal investigations” and I gave it a long look.

A new beginning, hopefully, was waiting for me beyond this gate, and I gulped, steeling myself into finally ringing the bell instead of just endlessly shuffling around on the street like a weirdo. I felt the pressure of the paper on which I’d written down the address burning through my pocket. It was just a job interview, and yet it felt like a pivotal moment in my life. It was this or back home, to the cold god-forgotten mountains and that prick Lee. He’d have a field day with me if I crawled back, and that’s why I had to ace this.

“I wouldn’t go in there,” a deep voice from somewhere behind me uttered, a touch of amusement to his words. I jerked around, too consumed by my own thoughts to take notice of my surroundings, even with my heightened senses.

A hybrid stood there, a mischievous expression painting his face. He was pretty tall and built, hair cut fairly short and swept off of his face with two black rounded ears standing in attention amidst those spiky waves. His face was rounded and soft. When my eyes slid down towards his hips, there was no tail. He was most probably a bear.

“I’m sorry?” I asked him, subtly trying to search the air for any noticeable scents, but the air was a little too crisp to carry anything. The man only giggled and stepped a little closer.

“I said,” he replied, “I wouldn’t go in there. Heard the house is haunted.” He brought up his hand to wiggle his fingers in a spooky gesture, trying his hardest to sell the scare, but losing to his own amused snickers.

“Hauntings only manifest after sun-down,” I cited monotonal, subconsciously turning my head to check the greyish blue sky. It was still early afternoon and even though autumn was coming, it wouldn’t start getting dark for another few hours.

The hybrid pouted, sad that he couldn’t scare me, and I wondered what exactly was he trying to do here.

“Taehyung, stop messing with everyone walking by,” a firm voice from my left suddenly appeared, softly chiding the still pouting hybrid, “I told you a thousand times.”

Another hybrid appeared suddenly from my periphery and I couldn’t believe I completely missed his presence on the empty street. He must have been walking over and I just didn’t hear him. Or maybe he came from the neighbouring house?

He was of similar height, broad-shouldered but slim. His attractive face was pulled into an amicable polite smile and the brown rounded ears flicked towards me in interest as he took me in. Another bear.

“Hello, dear,” he said towards me, tone much kinder in that ‘I’m talking to a stranger’ sort of way, “Are you a client? Do you need help with a haunting?” There was something undeniably eager in his voice and it gave me a little pause. They were Bangtan Inc.

Caught red-handed loitering in front of their house, I panicked and did something very stupid.

“Y-yeah,” I stuttered out maybe a little too fast, lying through my teeth – but the men didn’t notice, no. Their faces immediately brightened, postures straightening.

“Amazing!” the newcomer exclaimed, hands clapping together. He almost threw himself towards the gate, fumbling with the lock for a few seconds before it creaked open and he invited me to step in with a wide gesture, a tinge of nervousness to him like he was afraid I’d turn around and run.

I didn’t. Instead I offered my own hopefully easy smile and nervously fiddled with my wool hat, hoping it still effectively covered my ears, as I accepted and slowly started on the walk over to the main entrance of the house. The giggley from before quickly slipped in as well, shuffling cutely by the broad-shouldered man’s side.

I had just stepped on the first stone stair of the veranda when the door flew open and I startled, foot slipping on the damp surface. Before I even had the time to yelp, there was a hand on my lower back supporting me.

“Oh my! Be careful!”

“Hyung!”

A few shouts rang out at the same time, but I barely even listened. My hand shot out, almost slapping myself in my own face, trying to keep the headwear in place. I felt my ears twitching underneath it, but it stayed firmly on.

“Thank you,” I muttered, righting myself again and looking towards the third hybrid, “sorry for the inconvenience.”

“No no no, none at all,” the handsome hybrid said, “it was Hoseokie’s fault, he should have been more careful with the door.”

The new hybrid standing in the door was looking at me sheepishly, an embarrassed blush painting his face pink.

“I’m sorry,” he said plainly, red fox ears twitching in his curly hair, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Hoseokie, please bring our new client inside and into the sitting room,” there was an understanding that ran through them at the word client, and immediately the fox, Hoseok, turned all professional and beckoned me inside with a practiced friendly smile.

Giggley said nothing since the other bear’s arrival, only hung around in the back of the group, watching me with a strange kind of excitement.

“Please, please, through here,” I found myself pulled through the door and the main hall, under a pretty arch with wooden beams carved into branches with leaves and into what I presumed must have been the aforementioned sitting room.

I wasn’t even sure what that was, must have been a rich people house thing.

The happy fox was flitting around me, fussing with my light coat and assuring me I can step inside with my shoes on. After a barrage of questions about refreshments he danced out of the room, presumably into the kitchen to fetch the promised tea and biscuits.

There was no trace of the other two hybrids, but I heard movement through the house – someone calling a name I couldn’t fully decipher, heavy steady footsteps through a hall, a distant buzz of conversation. Signs of living.

The house smelt happy, lived in. I wanted to go find giggley and argue with him – this house wasn’t haunted; it was a home.

Shuffling a little on the armchair, I felt nervousness sink in. Now that I was here in this situation, I had no idea how to get out of it. The scent suppressant I sprayed on in the morning was going to protect me for a little while more, but if someone really tried I would no doubt be sniffed out without a problem. My ears started to hurt from how I pressed them down in order to not have a suspiciously twitchy hat and no matter how I tried to manoeuvre myself onto the chair, I couldn’t avoid sitting on my tail that was tucked and hidden into the long skirt I wore and protectively curled around my thigh.

I wasn’t even trying to fool them – I wanted the job they offered on the dingy website and for that I had to be a hybrid, but it was easier travelling through the city while pretending to be human – people stared less, whispered less about ghosts and death. It kind of just snowballed from when they assumed I was a client. No other reason for a human to be hanging about a paranormal investigations agency.

I shouldn’t have agreed, but then a strange fear choked me – I wasn’t ready to go in and ask for a chance. It seemed like a great idea to just scope them out, but now it was painfully obvious to me from their joy that not many clients walked through that gate and now I didn’t know how to tell them I wasn’t one.

Before I could spiral further, two hybrids walked into the room – Hoseok and one I haven’t met yet. He was tall, even taller than the two bears, and muscled. Strength radiated off of him, an aura of power that shocked me into silence as I eyed him with something suspiciously close to awe. Something about him was pressing onto my instincts, blanketing my brain with a layer of rightness, safeness. I fought myself not to submit then and there and embarrassment flooded through me.

But at least I wasn’t the only one – from where my eyes caught onto his greyish wolf ears I saw them twitch nervously and then I realised he was actually blushing under my stare, to which I burst into flames even further and politely shifted my eyes to the little table in front of me.

I heard Hosoek’s snickers, but from his relaxed stance I deduced I probably wasn’t the first to get caught into the lure of this hybrid’s aura. It would surprise me if I was.

He cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot and still a little pink, before he regained a little bit of his professionality back.

“Good afternoon, Miss,” he recited smoothly, deep voice like honey, and I blushed a little more, pointedly avoiding Hoseok’s amused eyes, “thank you for choosing our agency to help with your little problem. O-or not little, I mean, it could be a big problem. We can definitely handle anything though, you don’t have to worry.” He stuttered through his little speech miserably, shooting a shy glance towards his companion who was watching with fond eyes.

“Oh Joon,” the little sigh came from behind me and I twirled around to once again come face to face with the brown bear, the man still smiling kindly, “Don’t worry dear, he always gets stuttered up like that.”

He stepped into the room and stuck out his hand in an offered handshake. I quickly fumbled to get on my feet, alleviating the pressure on my poor tail and stumbling in the process, but this time I righted myself before any of the men could. I grabbed his hand with cheeks still red, but with a shy smile back.

“I’m Kim Seokjin,” he introduced himself and then gestured towards the wolf, “and that is Kim Namjoon. He is the owner and the director of Bangtan Inc.” I moved along, offering my hand to the blushing man as well and he took it eagerly yet gently.

I was so distracted by the soft calming grip of his hand that I didn’t even notice the way the wolf sniffed the air and froze, smile melting off into a frown. Namjoon took a step back and his hand got torn out of my hold, and I looked up in alarm worried something happened.

And something did. The man was watching me with apprehension, no trace of the smiling shy man – in his place stood a powerful hybrid sensing a threat. And I immediately understood what happened.

“W-wait!” I exclaimed, “I can explain, I promise!”

The other two hybrids in the room also took a cautious step back, following the director’s lead and I realised – they must have been a pack and he must have been their alpha. That would explain the reaction of my body I was faced with upon seeing him for the first time.

“Why are you trying to sneak into my house?” the question came out a lot unfriendlier than I was used from these hybrids, but I couldn’t blame him – I had unknowingly tried to cheat the alpha of the house and that was a big offense between hybrids, especially since I was a stranger to his pack.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I whispered, also slowly backing away from the man now that he was so high-strung about my proximity. His packmates watched us with confusion, but I saw the realisation slowly sink into their faces, so I decided to stop the farce and reached for the hat, yanking it off. It was impolite to keep headwear on inside anyway, and I know that wasn’t lost on Hoseok since he tried to take it off for me even though I insisted on keeping it.

Their gasps were less shocked by now, both of them anticipating something like that to be the revelation, but I was sure it was more a reaction to opening a whole new level of information about me. The ears were undeniably feline, even though I wouldn’t blame them for not recognising them, and now that I finally unfurled my tail, it started peeking out from the bottom of my long skirt – that was the one cons about it – it was very long, impractically so.

I saw their eyes trained on the fluffy tip of the appendage, their faces written with their attempts to guess what kind of feline I was.

Not Namjoon though, the wolf was staring me down, eyes shining bronze and posture tense, tail ram-rod straight in a show of dominance. I crumpled into myself a little, showing him I wasn’t a threat even though I entered his territory under false pretences.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, alpha,” the name slipped out of my mouth quite naturally, even though I’ve never lived with wolves before – this man just made it easy to submit. He did relax slightly then, but his senses were still alert, no doubt driving him insane because he couldn’t fully smell me.

“I saw the job offer and I came to ask about it, but when I got surprised at the gate by the bears, I panicked and agreed to come in as a client,” I quickly explained, hoping this wouldn’t end up with me kicked out and no prospects of a future employment, “It was stupid of me, I should have thought more carefully about entering a stranger’s territory while pretending to be human.”

That seemed to have diffused the situation completely and I finally sighed out in relief when Namjoon moved, shoulders relaxed a smidge more and only a trace of mistrust on his face. I was proper ashamed though, and watching the floor with burning face, ears pressed into my head so hard it hurt.

Then I sensed Seokjin moving closer before he gently laid a hand on my shoulder, leading me back into the armchair just as Hoseok shook out of his stupor and started serving the tea and biscuits he brought over. Namjoon still stood still on the opposite side, by the dark brown sofa, but he didn’t seem as hostile anymore.

“You little dummy,” Seokjin teased, and had it been said by anyone else with a different intonation, I would have been mad, but his words only made me blush more, shy and embarrassed. Then he looked over at his packmate and tsked gently.

“Come on Joon, cut her some slack,” he chided, “she was caught off guard because Taehyung started teasing her with the whole ‘the house is haunted’ thing he does.” That had the man relaxing completely and he finally sunk down into the sofa, Hoseok joining him shortly and making himself comfortable in the huge pillows.

There was a light disapproving tint to his expression, but mostly he just looked fondly exasperated, shaking his head slightly and chuckling under his breath.

“I told him a thousand times to stop doing that, it makes people nervous and then they don’t ring the doorbell,” he muttered much the same words as Seokjin had before on the street, and the fight drained out of my body when I realised I really wasn’t going to get kicked out.

“I’m still sorry,” I piped up carefully, gathering the hot mug into my hands and cuddling up to it on instinct before I stopped myself. I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one afternoon.

“So you’re interested in the job, then?” Namjoon changed the subject smoothly, fully settling into his director persona. I nodded eagerly and watched Seokjin walk over to the sofa and sit down elegantly, direct opposite of the lounging fox that now sat with a pillow squished into his arms.

“I got interested because it mentioned you are a hybrid run agency without human supervision,” I told him and the effect of my words was clear.

Human supervision was a concept as old as PI (paranormal investigations) agencies themselves, hybrids weren’t even allowed to own and run them up until like fifty years ago, and even after human supervision was a standard occurrence.

Even though humans had no affinity for the paranormal (some were a little more sensitive to it then others, especially when it came to children) it still ingrained itself as some sort of a staple of quality of agencies – those that didn’t have human supervisors were often ostracised and disadvantaged, there were quite strong smear campaigns against them and people still held mistrust towards them.

If investigators made mistakes that cost lives or destroyed property at an agency with human supervision, nobody thought anything of it, but if the same happened in agencies without, they were often dragged through the mud and sometimes even shut down after “thorough investigations”. It was more than unfair – it was discrimination. Most humans still saw us as animals and therefore incapable of having the same judgements and freedoms as humans did. They didn’t trust the hybrids that risked their lives to make their homes safe again, they rather turned to the humans that accompanied them in and did nothing.

Most human supervisors were older, still very much in the mindset that hybrids weren’t supposed to have their own opinions, and they were absolutely useless in the face of the paranormal – they were a bunch of pricks drunk on their own power, barking orders they didn’t fully understand, putting investigators into difficult spots and overriding their decisions according to a manual that was outdated and unflexible.

But even though you truly couldn’t find a single hybrid that was happy about this still being a thing, due to the industry pressure they still rather chose to work with them – because working against them was virtually impossible and most of those little stubborn groups usually ended up bankrupt pretty fast. The biggest names were still big corporations that built their traditions on the humans in charge of the operations, and if you wanted to have a successful career or even to be able to make a living, you still had to grovel at their feet and beg for an opportunity.

The dark shadows that overtook the three hybrids’ faces at the mention of human supervision perfectly reflected the grim reality of PI industry.

“No, no humans here,” the wolf stated firmly, “we are fully operated by hybrids. We don’t allow any kind of outside intervention, during the investigations everything is fully in the hands of the operatives.” I nodded, satisfied.

“That’s good to hear,” I said, but didn’t elaborate any further. Most hybrids had bad experiences with their supervisors, so I imagine they must have understood pretty clearly where I was coming from.

“Do you have a resume?” Seokjin asked, bringing the attention back onto the topic at hand. I fumbled with my bag, fighting to pull out the slightly crumpled piece of paper that was pitifully empty, and I flushed under his inquisitive eyes when he caught sight of the free spaces.

I had pretty standard qualifications – I did have all of them, I finished all of my education, but it was nothing special. Everyone that successfully graduated from high school and finished their courses had the same ones (and there was a lot of us). There was some experience from practical education, a part-time job as a graveyard guard and a brief stint at the local office of Black Guard Corp., one of the three giants in the PI industry.

It really didn’t take a long time for the three men to skim through it, it actually felt embarrassingly fast before their gazes shifted back to me, appraising me and searching for at least a sliver of talent.

“Oh, you’re from all the way up north,” Hoseok exclaimed, “Got tired of the mountains?” I chuckled somewhat humourlessly.

“Yeah, something like that,” I muttered. A lot of reclusive communities up in the north – a lot of stigma and not much to do, so it wasn’t that strange that young people moved towards bigger cities searching for modernity and understanding.

“One of our packmates is also from the area,” Hoseok said emphatically, smiling my way, “he moved down as soon as he hit eighteen.” A noise of understanding clawed out of my throat completely unbidden and I awkwardly coughed.

“Yeah, it’s fairly normal,” I replied, “I was one of the few young people left in our village.” Silence barely settled over us when Namjoon broke it again.

“You wrote Hearing and Touch as your strongest senses,” the wolf asked, tapping at the paper where presumably those words were written, “can you elaborate on that a little?”

Those hybrids that had talent (meaning a sense for the paranormal) all mostly had a little bit of everything when it came to the three main senses – sight, smell and hearing. Even if sight wasn’t your strongest sense, you still saw just not as clearly as others. If sight was your strongest sense, you still were able to smell or hear to a certain extent. But usually every investigator had a sense that was stronger than others.

Of course there were levels – someone’s strongest sense could still be weak compared to another person, but it was what he relied upon the most when it came to gathering information about the haunting. Those who had exceptionally strong senses could manifest rare gifts tied to their talents – like those with extremely strong sight could be able to see energy traces, or those with a superior sense of hearing could actually communicate with some of the ghosts.

Touch was a bit of a wild card. It was a considerably rare gift – not that it was super hard to find someone with the capability, but that usually it was very weak. A lot of people who manifested this already rare gift couldn’t actually do much with it and mostly just caught echoes. It was also a gift that only tacked onto a heightened sense of hearing or smell, as that made it stronger.

Touch allowed for the investigator to strike up a connection between themselves and an object closely related to the ghost, it showed them visions – of the ghost’s memories, of their life. Sometimes it shed light onto their motivations to stay behind, sometimes the visions more showed what kind of person they were. Most of the times it made you go through the worst moments of their life – and their death.

It was a dangerous ability that consumed you from within, left you vulnerable. Those with particularly strong Touch often went mad through the years of endless investigations and ended up shells of their former selves.

And mine was – it was on its way there too. It was my greatest pride and my biggest weakness, all at once.

“Do you have anyone else with Touch?” I asked instead of answering at first. The trio on the couch showed their interest was definitely piqued but they let me get away with the small distraction.

Hoseok nodded at the same time as Seokjin said “yes”, and they looked at each other before the fox gestured for the bear to continue.

“We do, we have two,” he replied with a gentle smile, “Jiminie has the same set as you, but his touch isn’t particularly strong. Taehyungie, you met him outside, has smell and touch. His are a little stronger, but he mostly just complains that all he gets are terrible scents.” I chuckled at that.

“I can imagine. I used to know this ferret with the same combination and she always whined that it just makes the smells worse,” the anecdote made me relax even more as I thought back to the few good people I met through my old agency and remembered the reasons for why I stayed there for such a long time. Well, if a few months could be considered a long time. Then I took a deep breath.

“Well, both of my senses are quite… pronounced,” I admitted. People with Touch had to be careful about their talents – either it made you vulnerable to exploitation or you were seen as an emotional wreck and a liability. It was hard to say what people’s reaction would be – that’s why I always asked about their own operatives first.

“Are you getting full visions?” Namjoon asked, and his voice was carefully neutral to make me more at ease. I nodded.

“Yeah. My hearing is pretty strong too, usually I was one of the most alert ones in my team,” I told him, wringing my hands in my lap as I recalled my earlier job, “my touch was what I excelled in though. Full visions, manifestations of emotions, the whole shebang.” The men seemed a little troubled but mostly I recognised worry for my health in those gazes, and while it was one of the pitfalls, I was at least glad they didn’t seem to be strangely excited about my talents. Sometimes we could be seen as an easy way to fame and money, and I’d rather starve than work for a company like that.

“Have you ever successfully carried out a conversation with an apparition?” this time it was Seokjin who asked, and I nodded quickly.

“Once, but she was really confused,” I replied eagerly, “I wasn’t able to get much out of her, it was like she drifted in and out of awareness.” Sometimes the hearing ability worked both ways – when ghosts were weak or low levels according to the manuals, they weren’t really capable of communicating. Maybe they said something here or there, but they weren’t fully conscious and aware. The stronger the apparition, the higher the level, the bigger the chance that they would hear you and answer – but just as there was a barrier that allowed only some to hear them, the barrier carried over certain voice better than others. Therefore if you were skilled at hearing, you also had a higher chance of being heard by the ghost.

The strongest apparitions could freely hold a conversation and hear everyone, even if others couldn’t hear them. From what I read, they were usually quite the pieces of work and annoying to talk to.

“That does happen quite often,” Seokjin sighed, folding himself back into the settee, “Most of the conversations with the dead are quite frustrating. Either because they don’t hear you or because they do and you wish they didn’t.” It sounded like he truly spoke from experience, and I did have to agree with him, even though I haven’t bumped into a fully aware ghost yet. I thought it quite safe to assume Seokjin’s affinity was also hearing, then.

“Well, let me quickly introduce you to the offered position,” Namjoon hijacked the conversation again, leaning forward to look a little more professional, “There’s seven of us in total and we usually work in teams of three or four, depending on the danger level. We try to take turns, but often we found ourselves in situations where we didn’t have time both for business and for basic upkeep of the house and such.” I nodded in understanding.

“People in the summer usually feel emboldened by the long days,” the wolf continued, “so we had a slow period, but with the start of autumn and winter the fear will set in again and they’ll be desperate enough to go even to a small hybrid run agency, so we usually get busier, especially here in the local area. We need a helper. I think the offer said an assistant and a junior operative. Basically someone who will fill in the blank spaces – keep the house tidy when everyone is either busy with investigations, resting or researching. Tag along when we could use a helping hand out in the field. Make sure we’re fully stocked up, double check we have all the supplies in our bags and belts. Help out Hoseok with taking calls, caring for customers when they come here. A little bit of everything to make it easier for us, so we can fully focus on our other tasks.” I hummed again and gestured for him to continue.

“In return we offer lodging here in the house, help with training and gaining more experience with both field and off-field work, like researching, orienting yourself in libraries, archives, what you have the authorisation to do and to ask for, such things. We offer full gear – a new rapier, salt bombs, magnesium bombs, shoes, coats, protective glasses – anything you might need or ask for. We’d take you with us to investigations, show you the ropes, train you to be a full operative.” There Namjoon stopped and wavered a little, hesitation creeping into his face.

I assumed that this was where it usually all fell apart for him, so I straightened in the armchair and waited with bated breath what would follow.

“I know it seems a lot, but it could be a good opportunity,” the wolf smiled at me, the shyness and kindness he displayed earlier before I was found out shining through once more, “Of course… it won’t pay as much as if you worked for Black Guard or the Iron Sword, but it’s still a good pay, more than enough to live comfortably. And as I said, you can live here so that will lower living costs as well…” I released a big huff in relief. I see, so he was worried about money.

The trio of hybrids didn’t seem to know how to interpret my reaction, so I gave them a huge toothy grin, a real one, that channelled just how interested I was in the position. It was perfect for me and I could use the community, the variety and the opportunity to learn.

“No, that sounds perfect,” I told him, and I meant every word of it. That put blinding smiles on their faces as well, and suddenly Hoseok was jumping to his feet and clapping his hands, once again scaring the living shit out of me.

This time he looked a lot less sheepish and a lot more amused as he said sorry, and then he was beckoning me to follow him out of the sitting room. The other two men chuckled fondly, but followed after him, nodding at me to come with them.

“We’re going to test you a little,” Namjoon explained, eyes searching the sky outside through a window in the hall, “I hope it’s not too early for a little ghostly activity.”

The sitting room was the first room you’d see when you stepped inside the house, but there was actually a similar room to the other side of the entrance hall, only stylised into a darker green instead of the browns and beiges of the one we were sitting at.

The entrance hall then opened into a huge room dominated by an old staircase leading to a little corridor that disappeared on both ends deeper into the house. The backdrop of the corridor though was an absolutely massive window made of stained glass that painted together a flowering meadow with a forest on the horizon. It was a little faded, the colours a little dull, but obviously well-loved and cared for, and it stole my breath away.

On the ground floor the room opened to corridors on the sides that similarly disappeared deeper, but on the left side there had to be a kitchen, because the corridor carried to me absolutely delicious smells, and sounds of a knife hitting a cutting board in a steady rhythm. I almost salivated upon smelling that, and wished I could weasel myself into staying for dinner, but instead I followed the men to the right, away from the tantalising scents.

We passed two sets of double doors made from dark polished wood. One was cracked open and I clearly heard giggles and a hushed conversation coming from there, recognising one of those voices as the deep baritone of the black bear that was trying to scare me outside. He was the one of the two with touch, and if I managed to get this job, I couldn’t wait to talk to them about their gift. Up in the north there was only one other girl with touch – the ferret hybrid that had smell as her other sense, but since her touch wasn’t as strong, our experiences with it were completely different.

But that’s not where we were going – the three hybrids continued to the end of the hall where another set of dark-wood doors sat firmly closed. Namjoon fished out a bundle of keys from his pants, and I couldn’t believe the chunky ball of iron fit into his trousers without bulging out uncomfortably.

There were two locks on the door and I promptly realised where he was taking me.

Every agency had a storage room – a place where all the dangerous things sat properly handled and out of reach to anyone that didn’t know how to work with them and could get hurt. That meant everything from spare rapiers and magnesium bombs to active artefacts – ghost sources with their apparitions still attached to them.

A source could be anything that bound a ghost to the place of haunting and allowed them to come back – objects that were loved during their life, objects that were tied to their death or quite straightforwardly, their remains. Sometimes the ghosts were tied to a certain space, and those cases were the most annoying, because there wasn’t much you could do about it – especially if it was a random spot in the middle of a forest or an actively lived-in house.

Operative’s job was to investigate the haunting, find the source and handle it – with salt, iron or silver, depending on the strength of the ghost. Those materials acted as a buffer and eliminated all chances of the ghost slipping through into our world again – it locked the door, one could say. Some ghosts could be chased away with a little bit of salt or a sprinkle of iron filings, but some had to have their sources wrapped in silver and destroyed in fire – those were the most dangerous ones.

Certain artefacts were allowed to be kept as trophies, even though no one really kept an eye on that. The black market was very profitable and unfortunately a lot of people that were supposed to be regulators themselves dabbled in it and collected strong active sources. So the rule of thumb was that regular sources were disposed of in the furnaces while the ones tied to famous cases were kept – people didn’t really care for grandpa Smith’s old walking stick, but they sure were interested in the remains of blood-thirsty ghosts that terrorised and killed until they were swiftly handled by an agency – getting rid of an artefact like that could be a huge PR hit for companies, and they were usually safely showed off in their headquarters to forever burn into people’s memories that they were the ones closing that case.

I assumed Namjoon was taking me to a similar trophy case to gauge the strength and depth of my senses.

Unlike the showy glass buildings of big corporations, Bangtan’s headquarters were situated in the basement under their house – it was mostly one big spacious room with walls made of red bricks and a floor of stone tiles. There were three tables there, covered in paperwork, and one wall was lined with filing cabinets, which must have been filled with old, closed cases.

A little light shined in through small oblong windows near the ceiling, so I was grateful when someone flicked a switch and artificial lights came on with a low hum.

And then I saw it – deeper into the space where two smaller rooms, cutting the space unevenly in half – and the wall facing us currently still standing by the door was covered with luminescent shelves.

It wasn’t the shelves themselves that shined – it was their contents.

There weren’t many artefacts, in fact most of the shelves were completely empty, but they made up for it with their brightness. Usually the brighter the source was, the stronger the ghost tied to it – and these were some potent sources.

I made a little panicked noise at the back of my throat, ears flattening to my head and tail flicking with agitation. I pointed towards the wall and then looked to the men with wide scared eyes.

“You can’t open those, look how bright they are even in the middle of the day!” I exclaimed and the men laughed lightly.

Namjoon leisurely made his way over towards the wall, and in my panic I followed him, heart beating out of my throat. But once there, he didn’t reach towards any of the sources encased in glass tubes infused with silver and iron for safe-keeping, he actually turned toward one of the shelves I previously thought was empty.

Only, when I came closer I realised it was lined with passive sources – ones that used to be tied to a ghost who was either destroyed and left their source behind or chose to move on, or just simply were charged with energy of a haunting and not the apparition itself. They were no longer dangerous and mostly deserted of any activity.

The wolf whispered around with the fox for a little while, hands lingering on certain objects as they deliberated on which they wanted to give me as a test. Seokjin stood to the other side of me, eyes glued to the active sources as if he looked for something specific.

I waited with bated breath to see when his eyes lit up with recognition, eager to know what it was, but I was interrupted by Namjoon’s deep voice as he beckoned me closer.

I looked to them and saw that both he and Hoseok had an object in their hands, having chosen their favourite. Namjoon carefully cradled an intricately carved wooden comb – it was absolutely beautiful and it looked very old and frail, with some of its teeth broken or missing.

He nudged his hands to me, motioning for me to pick it up.

“Tell me this comb’s story, Y/N,” he said, and the sudden appearance of my name shocked me enough to flinch in surprise. I realised I never actually introduced myself to them, the whole clusterfuck of a situation derailing the usual pleasantries – he had to have read it on my resume.

With blushing cheeks I rushed to grab it, careful to give it the same gentle consideration as the wolf did. The last thing I wanted was to break it.

At first I felt nothing. I heard the men’s breathing, the wild beating of all our hearts as the anticipation gripped us. I heard the faint clanks coming from the kitchen on the floor above. I felt my ears twitch as they tried to focus on the echoes of things long gone instead of the very present and very alive hybrids.

Anxiety spilled through me and I squirmed. Slowly I felt myself sink into panic, brain running its mouth telling me that I was useless and couldn’t even feel the object, that they’d laugh at me, they’d hate me. They’d kick me out and I’d have to go back home, embarrassed and defeated. I wouldn’t be able to impress them, I was a sham, a phony. I had nothing to offer anyone. I was worthless. Maybe I should just-

The thought startled me into a more present grounded mindset, and I ashamedly realised that due to me being nervous about the test I hadn’t noticed when I slipped into my ability. Those weren’t my thoughts, but whoever once owned this comb had a really bad time.

Shakily I dropped the comb back into Namjoon’s waiting hands, noting the concern on his face at my queasy expression. Hoseok was standing next to him still holding his own item, but his eyes were wide and a little scared.

“Are you okay dear?” Seokjin suddenly asked me, hands settling on my shoulders as he spun me around, “You suddenly got really pale.” I nodded hurriedly, using the sleeve of my sweater to dry off some of the accumulated sweat on my face.

“No, yeah, I’m fine, sorry,” I stuttered out, turning back to Namjoon and looking straight into his worried eyes, “The woman who wore this comb killed herself, didn’t she? She felt worthless – someone had left her. Maybe the very person who gave her the comb.” The devastation hit the wolf’s face as soon as I was finished speaking.

“I am so sorry, Y/N. I’ve never met anyone with touch as strong as yours, I didn’t realise you’d feel it so intensely,” he said, comb long forgotten discarded haphazardly on the shelf.

To say I was surprised would be an understatement – the genuine remorse at putting me through an experience like that, even unknowingly – it was enough to make me blush under his brown gentle eyes.

“It’s okay, it’s my ability and I’ve learnt to deal with it,” I told him softly, “I just got a little surprised, I wasn’t paying enough attention and let it suck me in a little.” He looked like he saved my words into memory for later use, like he wanted to make sure to help me along the way to not slip into the memories as easily again, and I flushed again, warmth spreading through my chest.

I’d never met anyone so invested in the well-being of their operatives. Which was quite sad, thinking about it.

“Was I right, though?” I enquired, and he shook out of his stupor, looking at me, then at the comb, then back at me and then as if everything caught up with him he nodded quickly.

“Yeah, her actual source were her remains – they got stuck deep in the mud in the river she drowned herself in, but the comb was in her hands and carried over the aura of her haunting,” the wolf explained eagerly, “she was mostly just sitting around on the bank, scaring off some of the local children who felt unsafe there due to her aura. She wasn’t dangerous at all, just really sad.” I felt a pained pang in my heart, some of the unsettled feelings and thoughts from her last moments still lingering in the corners of my soul.

“That’s incredibly heart-breaking,” I whispered, eyes glued to the beautiful accessory.

Before I could spiral any deeper into those thoughts, Hoseok awkwardly cleared his throat, hands hanging in the air between us unsure of whether he should offer the artefact or not. Everybody’s attention was drawn to him and Namjoon was just about to open his mouth to protest, when I beat him to it by grabbing the little thingy.

It was a really fancy pen, felt and looked new, like it would still write if I tried it on a piece of paper, and its ghostly traces were incredibly weak. This time I was more cautious as I examined it, rolling it around in my hands, eyes closed and fingers trying to feel every ridge, every scratch.

There wasn’t much. Almost nothing actually. I caught some waves, but they fizzled out as quickly as they appeared, leaving me with little fragments here and there. I tried again to make sure, but came to the conclusion that this item couldn’t have been tied to a haunting. It felt more like they just took it from the deceased’s house than anything else.

“Umm, are you sure this is what you wanted me to touch?” I asked hesitantly, “It’s just that there’s not much here. I feel mostly just stress from it, but it’s very fragmented.” At my words everyone in the room chuckled, Hoseok’s face heating up until he was as red as a tomato.

“Good job,” Namjoon said, snickering in amusement and looking towards the embarrassed fox, “this isn’t an actual haunted item or an artefact. It’s one of those fancy pens they advertise to ghost hunters because it has an outer layer of silver on it. Well, Hoseokie-hyung here bought it as a joke and it ended up saving his life. But turns out that the energy of coming into contact with ghost plasm holds onto it well and it’s kind of cursed now.” That definitely caught my attention and I looked at the hybrid who was shooting daggers into the wolf.

“He was being a big old dummy and while handling the sources marked for destruction he dropped one and the case broke,” Seokjin jumped in to continue the story, “he had nothing but the pen in hand and he had to fend off a very angry and a very confused apparition. We heard him screaming and all ran here as fast as we could to see him running around the basement waving around a silver pen and hysterically yelling at a ghost.” At this point I was giggling along with the men, the fox laughing along too as if he saw the visual his mate was painting as well.

“It was the best day of my life,” Namjoon sighed through snickers, “I almost didn’t want to help him because it was too funny.”

“I love to hear that you’d let me die for your entertainment, Joonie,” the man in question grumbled, but it was all in good nature, that much was obvious through their fond looks they threw each other.

As the laughter died down, a more serious expression settled onto Seokjin’s face and he gazed back onto the shelves with active sources, this time eyes immediately locking onto a specific case that glowed strongly with cold, steely blue light.

The other two men quietened the second they recognised what the bear was looking at, ears flinching and flattening to their heads.

“I was curious about what you’d tell us about an item we have here,” Seokjin started explaining, a far-away look in his eyes, “but seeing how strong of a reaction you had to the comb, I think we better not.” I looked towards the case, head tilted in consideration.

It was obvious there was something different, something strange, about that specific artefact – and judging by their nervous stances it wasn’t anything good.

“I can try,” I said easily, moving towards the shelf. Seokjin made an aborted panicked sounds, hands shooting up to stop me, but ultimately he let me walk past him and do what I wanted. I turned back, looking at the men watching me with scared but curious expressions, I steeled myself and looked at it properly.

It was fairly small – a single skeleton finger with a bejewelled ring stuck onto it. I wasn’t sure what they exactly expected from that. I clearly couldn’t take it out as the apparition would no doubt immediately manifest, and you really couldn’t feel through the glass.

But oh how quickly I realised I was wrong about that. I raised my hand, hearing the gasps of the three hybrids, reached for it and promptly stopped. I felt almost paralysed with the wave of dark resentful energy rolling off of it in thick waves, so thick that I was almost choking on them.

Whoever that ghost was, he was strong, angry and dangerous enough for his energy to manifest even through protective silver casing. Panic gripped me, just blind fear that this shouldn’t be here – this shouldn’t be anywhere. Suddenly I was stumbling back, tripping over my own feet to put distance between me and whatever that thing was.

My wild terrified eyes found Namjoon’s own worried ones and I couldn’t hold back a whimper clawing its way out of my throat.

“What the fuck,” I gritted through my teeth, “is that? Why the fuck is that here?” The alpha seemed to be fighting off his instincts, my palpable fear and the whimper must have put him in for a spin to try and calm me down, but we didn’t know each other at all for any attempts to be appropriate.

I realised I was shaking, the hand with which I almost grabbed the artefact cold and frozen to the bone.

“It was one of our biggest cases,” Seokjin whispered, voice gentle and monotone as he slowly started moving towards me trying not to scare me more, “a nasty piece of shit, a killer in life and a killer in death. Jimin refuses to get any closer to it, says it gives him the creeps even through the glass. He’s been telling us it has an aura even through the protection case and here or there tries to persuade us to get rid of it. None of us can feel much, just that it has bad energy, so I got curious… I’m glad you didn’t touch it. Those are some memories you don’t want to see.”

The bear hybrid managed to get all the way to me, his soft grip to my shoulder grounding me into the present and finally breathing some warmth back into my frozen scared body. I relaxed enough to let him start dragging me back towards the stairs, the two other hybrids guiltily tagging along.

“Jimin has a fucking point,” I replied, “That thing should be destroyed.” There was still a slight tremble to my hands, and I realised for the first time that day I was feeling extremely cold. I mechanically forced my feet to carry me a stair after a stair, yearning for the cosy vibe of the sitting room and the delicious smells coming from the kitchen.

“Told you,” a new voice joined us from up the stairs and I jerked to look up, coming face to face with a pretty boy with big eyes and plump lips. White ears stuck out excitedly from a mop of black silky hair, but I couldn’t gauge what kind of hybrid he was.

“Jimin,” Seokjin sighed, pulling me closer to his side, “please go start up a fire in the green room.” The boy said nothing more, only winked at me good-naturedly and then disappeared back into the house.

When we made it into the green room – which was the sitting room across the one we were in before – there indeed was a fireplace and an excited hybrid loading it with wood. I looked at his snow-white fluffy tail, the shape of it flaring out a little towards the end, and realised he was another fox, an arctic one. He must have been the hybrid Hoseok was talking about before, the one that moved down here from up north.

“After that I’m afraid I must insist you stay for dinner,” Seokjin spoke again, voice firm and leaving no space for objections. And it was the polite thing to do, to object and pretend like I wasn’t dying to sit down by the fire and eat, but just that afternoon I wouldn’t – I was too tired and too shaken. I wanted that damn food and I’d take it.

“Thank you so much,” I whispered only, letting the man fuss over me with a blanket. Shortly after he ushered Namjoon and Hoseok away with him, muttering something about guests and Yoongi, which I didn’t fully comprehend.

Jimin still sat down by the fireplace, kindling the little fire and feeding it paper, but then he turned to me and watched me with interested curious eyes for a moment.

“You got the touch?” he asked finally, and I simply nodded. Another moment of silence.

“Did you touch the finger?” this question came a little quieter. I saw the warring emotions in his eyes – excitement over meeting someone with the same gift, apprehension of the cursed object and a worry over my well-being. I was grateful to him, to his easy friendliness that put me at ease.

“No… I couldn’t,” I whispered the reply, but he understood, he did all too well. He gave me an empathetic smile, which quickly melted into a smirk.

“Maybe now Joonie-hyung will finally listen to me and do something about that awful thing,” he teased, giggling and pulling me along with him.

I was just about to open my mouth with my own smart remark when a new face stormed into the room, immediately stopping in his tracks upon seeing me bundled up in the blankets in an armchair by the fire.

He was small, noticeably so once Seokjin arrived as well and stood next to him, but his form was obviously strong and lean, a quite typical build for a classically trained operative. He must have been a terror with rapiers, it was written all over him.

“Aish, I leave you three alone for an hour and this is what you do?” he scolded the guiltily looking trio, “Look at that poor kid, you totally traumatised her!” Jimin on the ground was giggling, watching their pulled back ears with delight, but I just sheepishly sunk further into the chair, cheeks pink over how strongly the unknown hybrid defended me.

Movement by his legs caught my eye and I finally noticed the kind of hybrid he was – that was definitely a white tiger tail swishing wildly behind him! I physically felt my ears perk up as my back straightened and my own tail raised in interest, which brought even more colour to my cheeks and stuttered up the black-haired man in the middle of his spiel.

Soon he was blushing too, and I realised he was reading my body language and I’ve just given myself away, quite spectacularly.

I felt the intense need to explain myself but there wasn’t really much to say – I was excited to meet another feline hybrid, one that wasn’t of my own community – because I’ve never met another cat outside the ones I grew up with, and those weren’t exactly great. But I just looked like I totally had the hots for him (which I totally didn’t).

“N-no- I mean- I just- I’ve never met a tiger hybrid,” I finally pushed out, ignoring Jimin’s teasing shit-eating grin where he sat by my feet next to the fireplace. Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin were watching me with open fascination, which was definitely better than the anger I was imagining they would feel over me obviously being into their mate (which I wasn’t!!! It was a misunderstanding, nothing more!!!).

The tiger in question shifted on his feet, hand going to scratch behind the striped ear, his own characteristics now betraying a curiosity and interest on his part. His gaze swept over my features, passive but warm.

“You’re a snow leopard, aren't you?” he asked and where Namjoon’s voice was deep and smooth, Taehyung’s voice was deep and sweet, this hybrid’s voice was deep and raspy, sending me into a whole new spiral at hearing it.

I barely even managed to nod, embarrassedly pulling my tail and pushing it into my lap before it divulged even more of my secrets. Jimin was smirking at me as if he knew exactly what I was going through, and I kind of wanted to kick him a little.

“I suppose you came down here fairly recently then? Your folk only mostly only lives up in the mountains and they’re pretty reclusive…” he asked some more, angling more towards me and I felt my treacherous tail twitch in my hands.

“Yeah, it was a pretty tight community,” I told him easily, “They’re not exactly… forward and… open-minded.” It felt weird to be sharing such a private information with people I’d just met a few hours ago, but apart from the fact that this was something mostly all hybrids kind of knew, in those hours they managed to make me trust their judgement and believe that even if I wouldn’t end up getting employed by them, they still cared for my comfort.

But subverting all my expectations, the hybrid who up until now stayed fairly neutral even with a soft blush to his cheeks suddenly smirked at me, taking in my wide-eyes and flushed face before saying: “Well, it’s an honour for me to be your first tiger.” and walking out nonchalantly.

The trio that he originally came in here while scolding them stood there wordlessly, eyes flitting between my embarrassed form, a little too amused Jimin and the empty space where the tiger used to stand. Then Hoseok made a non-descript delighted noise in the back of the throat, launching into a sprint while screaming at the top of his lungs: “Jungkookie, you have competition!”

I was very much confused, but judging from Namjoon’s embarrassed blush and Jimin’s outright evil snickers, I probably didn’t want to know.

Seokjin smiled blindingly and then walked away again, while Namjoon slowly slinked into the room and made himself comfortable at the other armchair, still watching me glare at the laughing Jimin with wide eyes.

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect this outcome when you sneaked in today,” the wolf muttered, but there was a grin gently pulling at his lips. I was too embarrassed to banter and the attempt at a smile came out more as a grimace, so I just sunk deeper into the armchair and stubbornly looked on into the fire, ignoring the two giggling men.

“I’m sorry though,” Namjoon said quietly suddenly. I looked at him confused and I was surprised by the guilty expression on his face. “I’m sure this wasn’t the most pleasant of first meetings,” the hybrid muttered sheepishly, a bit of shame settled into his features.

“Namjoon-ssi, I made the decision to touch the source,” I told him firmly, hoping to alleviate some of his worry, “Seokjin-ssi was clear that I probably shouldn’t, but I wanted to try. You did nothing wrong.” The wolf didn’t seem much appeased, but he at least eased up a little, a little bit of determination creeping into his eyes.

“I’m going to get a bigger case and put it as a second barrier,” he proudly stated, more to himself than to us, and me and Jimin shared a glance before promptly bursting out into a fit of giggles. A sort of warmth settled into me, especially as distinctly recognisable voice of the brown bear shouted from somewhere that dinner will be ready shortly.

“Would be foolish to hope you’d like to accept the offer?” the question came out of nowhere, even Namjoon himself looking a little shy though he was the one who said it. I froze. Jimin stopped laughing. The happy chatter flowing in from the kitchen died down and everything settled into a buzz of anticipation.

The house was suddenly plunged into silence that I hadn’t heard since I stepped in, and the longer I was shocked at his words, the more I could see the alpha spiral that I’d inevitably reject him.

“I wasn’t aware you were waiting for my answer,” I uttered, teasing cheekiness creeping into my voice, and Jimin’s face once more morphed into a beautiful smile, “But I’d love to accept.” Namjoon smiled in relief, but both of our attentions were snatched by giggles coming from the artic fox.

“Of course she accepts hyung,” Jimin reiterated, “she wants to keep her first tiger.”

I’d never wished for the ground to swallow me so hard as I did in that moment.

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist (open): @borahaetelevision @socksfirst1 @shakespeare-in-the-park7 @iwishiwasrichasfuck @authorpj

@bangatanily @sassy-snassy @booksintheheart00-blog @bangbangcon @kiki-zb

@luvian-art @ldysmfrst @jinsleftairpod

#bts fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #bts poly au #bts hybrid au #pfyg series

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manicpixiefelix · 9 months ago

Text

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 18.

Summary: Love as seen in the stars, in the flowers that bloom, in your best friend's eyes, and in the taste of him on Oliver's tongue as you catch him in the bathtub. Summer continues at Saltburn.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; vouyerism, dom!reader, handjob, bathwater as lube, cumming almost untouched, pervert/enabler dynamics. I cannot stress to you enough that both the reader and Oliver are COMPLETE AND UTTER FREAKS ABOUT FELIX in the bathtub scene.

A/N: 6670 words. this chapter is very special to me for a lot of reasons, but mainly because there have been several scenes that i've been writing for a while now that have all found their forever home in this chapter. if you have any feedback or thoughts about this chapter or the story so far, i'd always love to hear them! also something something bath water something ;o)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Things were easier to navigate now that you understood Oliver. Or at least you thought you understood. Less fucking around with Farleigh and Venetia in Oliver's peripheries; when you put yourself on display, it was as an extension of Felix. If Felix had noticed the change, he hadn't commented on it. Considering how much effort you put in making him feel good and moan like a whore for Oliver's benefit, he probably appreciated it.

Things with Oliver himself were getting better by the day too, it seemed. More and more he was reaching out for you again. Sitting too close, sharing your space, seeking you out when his time wasn't filled with Felix. There's less tension too, on the nights you share in the lilac study. Oliver's been through the book you'd given him on the Estate, and has moved on to picking out books he'd found on your bookshelf, it seemed. You, having quickly identified the flower he'd mentioned as the honeysuckle, native to Australia, had also moved on to books from your Summer reading list for your upcoming year at Oxford. As the first week of Summer is coming to an end, it seems as though Oliver had finally settled in at Saltburn.

"Do you miss your room?" Oliver asks one evening. Without even looking up from your own book, you give a fond laugh, shaking your head.

"It was more just a formality half the time," you tell him with an easy smile, "a place to keep my stuff." Looking at him beside you on the sofa, you see he understands the implications, the holidays you and the others have reminisced about, the trysts masquerading as something much more innocent that you would share with them all when you were at the Estate. There's nothing judgemental in his eyes, there never was when it came to Oliver, "why?"

"It all just feels very much like you in there," he offers, gaze wandering as he speaks, "Felix's room feels very You-And-Felix, and I get bits of him in your room too, but it feels much more you." You're actually rather surprised by how well you understand what he means, "like up on your roof you've got these little stars. They glow. I didn't notice them the first few nights."

Your smile widens, all bright and warm, and you close your book.

"Do you want to have a sleepover, Ollie?" You ask with a childish kind of glee. The offer seems to take Oliver by surprise, but you lean forwards, "like an actual sleepover, like we're kids again."

"You still do just sleepovers?" Seems to escape Oliver without him quite meaning it to, and for a moment your expression does falter a little.

"Yeah," you can't help but feel a little self conscious, "promise I'm not trying to seduce your or anything," then, shifting your legs from him you shuffle back to sit cross-legged on the sofa, "we actually do them kind of a lot, or, well, I do. I think Farleigh and Ven have a few and I know when they get tipsy Ven and Fi have had a few. Sometimes after events when we were teenagers we'd all head back to one of our rooms and end up all passed in the same bed trying to fit in like sardines, all four of us."

"That's very cute," Oliver says softly after a long moment of silence, and when you finally meet his gaze again, he's smiling.

"Yeah," you grin once more, "we were."

Which is how you ended up back in Oliver's room, back in your old bed, looking up at the canvas that made up your ceiling, stretched across the full length of the room, rigged and taught, littered with a constellation of glowing stars. Oliver, laying still beside you, asks about it, and you have to explain that there was no way in hell you would ever be allowed to mark the actual roof of any room in the Saltburn Estate. Which he realises makes a lot of sense once you say it out loud.

"But you should see Felix's ceiling, it's much more impressive," you tell him softly, not even aware how your smile was coming through even in your words. Oliver, bedside you, was simply quiet as he gazed at the glowing dots, "haven't you ever looked up at the ceiling in Fi's room?"

"Not properly," Oliver admitted quietly, and the silence lapses out between you both for several contented seconds, "did you two do this?"

"I did," you said proudly, "and this is just from what I had left over."

"What do you mean?"

"About this time, uh," you considered for a long while, trying to remember the full context of the stars that littered both yours and Felix's ceilings, "seven years ago I think, Felix pretended to have gotten really into astronomy as an excuse to always be out of bed, out on his balcony at night."

"But... he wasn't really?" Oliver's head shifted on his pillow to look at you and your amused smile. You shook your head.

"He picked up smoking from Venetia, she was bribing him with cigarettes to hide both her own habit and the fact that she gave it to him."

Oliver shifts beside you on the bed, no longer content with looking at the stars you'd placed there, interested, it seemed, only in watching you.

"How old was Felix?" He's looking at you, clearly listening and invested, but he seems distracted by something.

"Fourteen," you sighed, "Ven was fifteen, which really isn't much better -"

"And how old were you when you picked the habit up from Felix?" Oliver asks with the faintest, knowing quirk of his lips. Embarrassed about how well he seemed to know you, your whole face scrunched up momentarily, "fourteen?" Oliver teased when you refused to answer, grin widening as you squeezed your eyes shut. Still, he went on, "so when you say Felix pretended to get into astrology seven years ago to hide his smoking habit, you mean you and Felix pretended to get into astrology seven years ago?" And this is when you feel Oliver's gentle fingertips touch your flustered face. His fingertips beginning to glide so gracefully along your features, as you relaxed into a simple, embarrassed smile.

You really weren't trying to do anything untoward with him tonight, you weren't lying about that. Still, you wouldn't rebuff any kind of gentle affection he had to offer.

"Well, yeah," you admitted, and Oliver makes a noise for you to continue as he seemed to be wanting to map each delicate feature on your face through touch alone, "but Fi ended up really getting into it. Went through this whole big astronomy phase that year - I say that year; he still really into it - but back then, it was..." you closed your eyes, letting yourself be immersed in the memory of how excited Felix had been. Felix was always a beautiful sight to behold when he was passionate.

"Little Felix," Oliver mused fondly, "bet he was desperate to be an astronaut." Oliver touches you like you're porcelain, so delicate and precious, his fingertips skimming your cheeks and brushing your eyelashes.

"Actually," you laughed a little, though not unkindly, at the memory. Opening your eyes, you turn just enough to be looking at Oliver, to catch the adoring look in his eyes as his hand stilled, now simply holding your cheek, "he wanted to be the guy who got to give speeches about the stars and planets and the universe every day at the planetarium," you recounted, "and become a Doctor of Astronomy so he could make the videos they play in the room with the domed roof that you get to lay back and watch in the dark," you grinned, "but also then he could still be the guy who gave the speeches, but he'd get to answer questions about his own movie about the universe as well." After a moment of silence, Oliver smiles so widely and genuinely; you know he can see it so clearly, "he'd be so good at it, wouldn't he?"

"He'd be cute," Oliver agreed softly, fondly.

"So for his fifteenth birthday, I spent weeks designing and figuring out how to rig this piece of canvas across his whole roof, since I couldn't paint or mark his ceiling, what with this being a heritage building," you explained, proud little smile on your face, "and I asked my nan about all these paints and fancy pigments and stuff that would last and would glow in the dark, because nan's a painter and she's always had this gift with like, making her paintings look like they glow," you turned to Oliver, expression so adoring, "but Fi turned fifteen while we were at boarding school, so the very next break we had, I convinced him to spend the first week visiting Farleigh and his aunt in America, while I was back here, spending night and day on this. I had the whole canvas stained navy, and nan even stayed here for a few days to help me with painting it all perfectly and making sure all my paints would do exactly what I wanted them to, and we painted this canvas-ceiling I'd set up for him to look like his favourite starscape at the London Planetarium." Giving a loud, contented sigh, you added almost as an afterthought, "there's probably a bunch of the print outs of references I used somewhere in the study; the Planetarium people were so lovely."

"Is that why Felix is doing a physics degree?" Oliver practically gasped like it was a revelation; right, you forgot Felix rarely bothered to explain anything about his academics to anyone. When you confirmed as much, Oliver seems somehow more shocked, "I never got the impression that he thought much of uni." It's... not an incorrect observation to have made about at least half of Felix's academic career.

"He gets weird about it, about talking about it and stuff, thinks he sounds like a nerd," you agree after a moment, with a fond laugh, "he's got this weird mind for physics and anything really related to space and stars and astronomy, but he'd rather complain about the electives that he takes despite knowing he'll hate them."

"Then why does he take them?"

"A lot of them are actually my core subjects," finally you admit, a little abashed, "he knows I'm not as fond of my course as he is of his, so he takes them out of solidarity and complains the whole time." You're pretty sure Oliver can hear the sickeningly sweet undercurrent of I love him, I love him, I love him in your tone, but you can't help it. Neither of you have much more to say on the matter, but you think you know what Oliver's thinking. Something about favouritism, about best friends, about how he's pretty sure that Felix Catton wouldn't do that for anyone else.

And he'd be right.

"Hey Ollie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I move closer?"

"'course," his voice is warm and soft and before you even move he's coaxing you closer to him, arm around you, letting you rest your head on his chest.

"Thanks for letting me sleep over," you yawned, but the affection in your voice was sincere. A chuckle rumbles through Oliver's chest, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"Thank you for suggesting it."

Oliver's warmth is familiar and foreign all at once. How is it that you could have missed someone so much despite only having spent one night beside him.

However the following morning, over breakfast, Elspeth gives you a reminder about an upcoming event that you'd been trying desperately not to think about.

"Y/N, darling, I just thought I'd remind you about the Arts Collective dinner we'll be hosting in a few days," her voice is carefully neutral as she brings it up. You freeze, "Duncan needs to finalise the numbers today so the kitchen can start figuring out what we need to order. We'll be gathering in the fairy garden for drinks and canapes beforehand." What she's really trying to ask is if you'll be in attendance considering your mother's name is on the guest list. Before you can properly answer, however, she turns to Farleigh and asks if he's still intending on joining the garden portion of the gathering.

"As usual, I will I'll indeed be showing my face for wine and cheese," he says, though his smile is tight, "at my mother's behest."

"I'll be taking dinner in my study that night," you force a smile at Elspeth, and she gives you the same kind of look that was so often directed towards Pamela. Pity. Sympathy. You poor, dear, thing, I understand. In a moment, however, she brightens once more and asks if Oliver would like to join the pre-dinner gathering, or if he'd simply like to attend dinner, dismissively assuming that both of her own children would be forgoing the garden themselves - she'd be right.

You can feel Felix looking at you as you return your focus to your breakfast, but you remain uncharacteristically stoic for the rest of the meal. As your plate is taken away, you try to shake your negativity, looking up and around as you ask if any of the others have plans for the day. Swimming, reading, lounging around; leisure, as always. But you feel as though you'll get lost in your own head if you don't do something with yourself today.

So instead, you find something suitable to garden in, and spend a good deal of the day in your garden, uprooting all of the purple pincushions in preparation. It's satisfying to be working with your hands, satisfying to be ripping the flowerless stalks up by the roots and disposing of them in a bucket to later be composted. You'd brought your iPod and little speaker and make a day of it in the garden, waiving the staff off who offer to help, only asking them what the garden needed that day.

You till the soil you'd just disturbed, mixing fertiliser in in preparation for the plants due to be arriving in a day or two, and water the rest of the plants in both rings. You take great care, admiring each flower in bloom, and even the more utilitarian ivy that curled across the latticed archway of an entrance.

Some of the staff members bring you food and water throughout the day, and for each one that does, you invite them to stop and sit and talk for any time they had spare. All seem surprised by the invite, and even moreso when you seem to know them by name, and how eager you are to ask them about themselves. They also all seem grateful to get off their feet for a few minutes.

Duncan sits very awkwardly opposite you at the picnic table. He does not touch the food he has brought you, even as you push it to the middle of the table, as an offering. Duncan does not ask questions. Duncan has never much liked speaking unless spoken to. But still, you know he's more than willing to refuse a request for company such as the one you'd made, so you take the kindness for what it is. He watches you down the bottle of water he'd also brought like your life depended on it.

"How long has it been since you last applied any sunscreen?" He does finally broach the surprisingly comfortable silence. He'd provided you with a tube of the stuff as you'd announced your intentions to spend the day gardening, and now it sat at the other end of the picnic table with the gardening tools. You promise to reapply after you'd finished your lunch, but smile at him warmly. He gives one of his awkward smiles back, and asks if you need a hat, which you decline.

"Your mother has confirmed that she will be in attendance with the Arts' Collective," he says, and you go still, "what would you like to be brought for dinner that evening?" The confirmation stings, but you know this is Duncan's way of showing he cares about you. You get to pick your own dinner, unlike most other nights, and he won't subject you to the cruel anticipation of wondering just whether your mother really would or would not be in the same house as you.

Trying your best to smile, you let him know that you'll think about it, and get back to him tonight. With a faint nod, Duncan stands smoothly, and leaves the garden once more. He'd always been good to you, in his own way.

By mid-afternoon, you've done all you can, and head back to the house to soak, and perhaps even have a sulk about the upcoming event, in the tub until you had to get ready for dinner.

Except Felix doesn't even knock before he bursts into the bathroom, already in his suit with a bottle of champagne in his hand. He's practically radiating joy as he informs you that he and the others had managed to get their hands on several bottles of champagne and are going to hit the tennis courts before dinner.

Black tie tennis and getting absolutely shitfaced sounded great right about now. You were already feeling pretty recovered from the day seeing as you'd spent over an hour in the bath already, so much to Felix's delight, you agree to join them with a delighted grin. From somewhere behind him, Venetia also orders you to wear something flashy.

"If you're in a black suit too I swear I'm going to scream!"

Which is how you end up in your bright red suit pants with the red, silk paisley embroidery, and matching suit vest, buttoned up, with nothing beneath it. It's also the kind of thing you can move in, throw yourself around in, which is perfect for how the five of you play tennis.

Champagne bottle in one hand, tennis racket in the other, the sunset paints you all a joyful gold. Swapping in and out on all sides to play even games, you find yourself forgetting everything that had been weighting you down, instead drowning in your friends laughter. So often your gaze is caught by Oliver and Felix, cheering, drinking, playing. Love swells in your chest at the sight.

You all share giggles over dinner, and while Elspeth and James and Pamela can all clearly tell that you're all already drunk, the way the five of you are all grinning softens their exasperation.

After, not wanting this rather fantastic evening to end, you end up on one of the many balconies or patios, you're not sure which, sharing a sofa and several cigarettes, and the last of a bottle of champagne with Felix. He's got his head in your lap, pointing out constellations, but all you can see is him, the stars shining in his eyes and wide, excited smile he always got when he was rambling about something he was passionate about. Good how you loved his passion; you wished Oliver were here to see him like this. Of course Oliver loves him, and of course he's desperate for Felix to love him back; to be loved by Felix was -

"You're thinking about Ollie, aren't you?" Felix's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you can see he's grinning up at you, nothing but affection in his eyes.

"I'm thinking about you," you corrected, carding your fingers through his hair.

"You're always thinking about me," he says it so easily, so dismissively, throwing the idea away despite how vain it would sound if it weren't rather true, still he takes on a teasing tone, "you get this look about you when you think about Ollie," he reaches up and pokes your cheek.

"He loves you," you give a contented sigh after a moment, expression turning soft, of course he does, how could he not? But that's also kind of a given.

"And you," Felix's jabbing finger turns to a gentle hand holding your face, "that's why we're being absolute sluts, isn't it? Trying to get him to make a move?" And you laugh, loud and bright, in agreement. But then, after a moment, there's a change in Felix, something in his eyes. It's not jealousy, but it's more serious than before.

"Fi?" Your voice is soft, and he smiles at you, overwhelmingly adoring.

"I've been getting to watch you fall in love," he said gently, incredulously, "how weird is that?" Something tightens in your chest.

"Again," you correct. Felix gives you a vaguely confused look, but you can't help but shake your head at your beautiful fool of a best friend, "you get to see me fall in love again, Felix." You roll your eyes, but as he's hit with the implications of your words hit him, a beautiful flush works its way up his cheeks. He actually has to cover his face with his hands, embarrassment and joy lighting up his expression.

"You're so sappy," he crows, "you are so fucking sappy!" You practically cackle with glee draping yourself over him, onto his chest, the two of you awkwardly wrapped up in each other on this little sofa. As your laughter dies down, you give a faint hum.

"But he's not your competition, for the record, he never really was -"

"I'm not jealous! I've told you that!" Felix insists, "I thought I made that clear!"

"You have, Fi," you laughed, "but what I'm saying is... well, he knows I love you both, and he loves me, but he's not -" ever going to love me the way he loves you, God, you can't say that. It takes the last bit of self restraint you have to bite that back, shifting to get a little more comfortable, you reach out and stroke Felix's hair.

"Fi, I have spent months watching him fall so in love with you, the way I often hope, or," you laughed a little self conciously, "feared, the rest of the world would," and slowly Felix uncovers his face, those big, brown eyes of his full of all kinds of hope and affection, "he was never your competition, Fi, he's mine," you joked.

"Oh," the flush on his cheeks only grows steadily darker, and the faint exclamation comes out as more of a breathless gasp, "Ollie's your competition for..." He grins sheepishly, like he just wants to hear you say it.

"You, Fi," you tell him with an affectionate grin, but for it up with a nonchalant shrug and teasing smirk, "though competition implies that either of us would make you choose."

You would never let him know the full truth. You'd let him believe wholeheartedly that while you both loved Oliver, he reciprocated that wholeheartedly. Which was... mostly true. True enough that it kept Felix happy and you happy enough.

Yes, Oliver loves Felix, and therefore loves you by extension. Only you knew how sharp that distinction really was.

But you realised Felix was right; he was watching you fall in love with Oliver, and you too had been watching him fall for the boy as well, even if it did seem to be a slower process than it had been with you. You reasoned that Felix had far more reason to be cautious with his heart, especially with men. The first and last boy you'd seen him fall in love with broke his fucking heart at Saltburn, you knew part of him was terrified for history to repeat itself. But clearly he couldn't stop himself from falling in the end.

It was a waiting game now, either Oliver makes a real move and proves his love and loyalty to Felix, or Felix makes a real move and proves to Oliver that his affections are entirely, overwhelmingly genuine. So you'd be the proxy when you had to be, something a little safer for them both while they built up the courage.

Though you're not above stressing this tension that's building between them. The bend before the break, how far it would go before it snaps and you can all stop dancing around this thing that you all clearly want.

And an opportunity arises in the days that follow.

Saltburn creaks it's own kind of melody, it always has. You've become used it, learned the ebb and flow of the house and it's noises, the way it settles itself as it cools from the Summer afternoon heat. You know which door is shutting in the rooms adjacent to yours and Felix's just by the sound of the latches alone, and you know all too well which floorboards squeak along the halls you frequent.

On Felix's balcony, winding down for the day with a book as he takes a bath before bed, you don't hear the creak of the little hall between Oliver's room and the bathroom. The blinds are drawn over the bathroom window, but you catch a faint bit of movement in the mostly dark hall and give pause in your reading.

You could barely make out the arch of a shoulder through the break in the blinds, but you could tell that beautiful, bathing Felix had himself a captive audience. Part of you wondered if it was by chance or by choice, if Oliver was watching or simply listening, and if Felix knew either way. He'd have to; there's no way Oliver was adept enough at moving through Saltburn silently that Felix hadn't heard that awful floorboard that creaked right before the bathroom door.

Oh there was purpose to this, you were sure. Felix knew the feeling of Oliver's gaze upon him, the want he so callously toyed with, seeing it in Oliver's eyes all too often. All the world's a stage for Felix Catton, you just wonder what kind of reaction he's trying to pull from tonight's audience. Settling back in with your book, all you can do is wait.

When you hear the water start to drain from the tub, you still take your time, give them both time for anything to occur, before you feel a sense of disappointment or defeat in your heart.

"Can I come in and brush my teeth yet?" You knock loudly at his door and hear Felix laugh on the other side.

"Since when do you knock?" Wrapped in his robe and sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Felix is drying his hair with his towel as you come in. Before you can answer, he follows it up with, "since when did you care if I was in the bath for that sort of thing?"

"It's called respecting your privacy, Fi," you tell him, swanning past him to get to your toothbrush. You do give pause, however, stopping in front of him, and he lowers the towel, as if in anticipation. For a moment you lift his chin, loving the way he grins in almost sappy anticipation, and you give him a quick peck on the lips before you're moving on again and he's back to getting the water from around the edges of his face and ears.

Oliver, who'd watched the whole exchange after slinking into the bathroom from the opposite door, looks quickly at himself in the mirror as you join him in collecting your toothbrush.

"Do you want me to start respecting your privacy?" There's half a joke in Felix's voice, since it's a strange sentiment for you both, especially at Saltburn. Oliver's gaze flicks to you, then to Felix in the mirror.

"If I needed privacy I know you'd respect it," toothpaste on your brush, you leave Oliver's side of the bathroom to join Felix, the two of you having devolved from a real conversation, into some kind of silly, mock-conversations entirely consisting of eyebrow movements, and trying not to choke on your laughter as you brushed your teeth.

Oliver was watching, of course, Oliver was always watching, but you kept noticing the way he'd glance at the bathtub as it continued to drain between the three of you, stealing focus. There was tension in his shoulders, in his gaze, in the way he held himself. Never turning away from the sink - you'd bet he was hard. Oblivious Felix - at least that's how he appeared - was doing nothing but the most mundane bathroom task, which still wasn't able to help Oliver's current state with the way he was glowing, content and beautiful in the steamy bathroom, hair still slick and curling and clinging to his beautiful face.

You watch Oliver swallow hard in the mirror, but then his gaze meets yours. In this moment you don't do anything, you barely acknowledge what you saw, but you see the rapid way he starts to blink as he looks away, as if hoping he'd imagined the look in your eyes.

You finish brushing your teeth in silence after that, only stopping to wish Oliver good night after Felix does, the two of you closing your door to the bathroom.

"I'm going to finish my chapter then I'll be right with you," you tell Felix with a warm smile, picking up your book on the balcony as he yawned loud and wide. He tells you there's no rush, that he'll be out in only a few minutes. True to his word, after a long day, his deep breathing starts to take over not too long after the lights go out.

Except for the one in the bathroom. Just as you'd expected.

You turn out the lamp on the balcony, and move quietly through the darkness. Yes, you know the way Saltburn creaks and moans, know how to make yourself known, or how to slip through the shadows like you're made of them. The old house is well maintained, the hinges on doors don't creak if you move them right, you can slip into the role of observer with ease if you know how.

Behind you, you close the door almost all the way, making sure the latch sits flush with the door for privacy without it's click of proper closing giving you away.

The water is still draining from the tub, Felix's water, and Oliver there along with it. The running water echoes through the old pipes, but not loud enough to cover the lewd noises you hear from the bathtub. The slurping, the moaning, the grateful sighs of contentment to be afforded this moment of perversion.

You let him have his moment. Then you let the door click shut.

Immediately Oliver sits up, panic on his face; he looks like he wants to say something, to explain himself, say anything, but he can't seem to find the words. It's like he was expecting Felix. Or even if he was expecting you, he was expecting judgement. When you remain quiet, remain observant, you watch his panic fade to something wary.

Why? You knew exactly what he was doing, why are you just standing there, watching him? You can see the questions in his eyes, and feel your heart rate pick up. Slowly, you move towards him. Slowly, you let yourself smile.

Oliver sits back in the tub, never taking his eyes off of you, the way you stalk around the space, predator and captured prey, caught red handed. Your fingers trail the lip of the tub, graceful, threatening, until you get to him, his shoulders pressed against the porcelain. His expression is taut, defiant, ready to push back against any kind of mockery or blackmail attempts, you assume.

No, you want him to relish this moment.

You curl your fingers in his hair, leaning down by the edge of the bathtub to make sure he finally sees how pleased you are by this development. The moment he realises, you can see his thinly veiled panic turn to a conflicted kind of desire. But you don't give him another moment before you crash your lips to his, wasting no time, licking at his lips to deepen the kiss, to taste Felix on his tongue.

And you climb into the bath with him, sitting on your knees between his spread legs, mouth on his like you're desperate to devour each other. Oliver is pressed against the edge of the bath, one arm along the edge, the other braced beside him, his mind still catching up to the moment even as he gasps into your mouth.

You break the kiss, the faintest hiss from your kiss-bruised lips being all he needs as a reminder to be quiet. Everything about him has changed, has become needy, pupils so shiny and dark with lust you could lose yourself in him. Instead, you let go of his hair, taking his jaw in a forceful grip, tilting his head to the side roughly, fingernails digging into his cheek. But his eyes flutter closed, choked kind of whimper escaping him, half muffled behind your hand over him mouth as you carefully angle his head back a little further.

He'd indulged himself in Felix's bath water, pressed himself into it, tried to lose himself in it, and the remnants of those moments of extasy clung so delicately to his skin. You take your time, kissing delicate drops of Felix's water from Oliver's beautiful features like a lover, temple to cheekbones down to his jaw. When you finally relax your grip on him, his head tilts enough for him to meet your gaze. Oliver is yours, totally and completely at your mercy. Good. Once his gaze moves to your mouth, to the pleased, hungry smile you wore, he couldn't look away.

With your hand trailing down his body, teasing against his ribs and belly until your nimble fingers find their way beneath the elastic of his pyjama pants, he tries to meet you in the middle, tries to kiss you, but that's not how this game goes.

The hand you'd been using to brace yourself over him pressed against his chest, pressing him back against the porcelain, and you go with him, your cheek pressed to his, lips by his ear, his heavy breathing, desperate panting in your own. The hand on his chest finds his necklace, entangling two fingers in it until it became tight enough that you could feel the hard way he swallowed when you finally wrapped your hand around his achingly hard cock.

"Good boy," you purred into his ear as you worked your hand up and down his cock, already leaking precum into his boxers. Oliver bites down on your shoulder to muffle his moan, and you have to fight to keep your own whimper quiet. The two of you find a rhythm, panting echoing in each other's ears and Oliver's hips rocking to meet your hand each time.

When you move away, Oliver looks momentarily despairing - no, please, don't stop! - in his eyes, but you reassure him with a languid kiss as you ease his pyjama pants down enough to properly free his cock. Now, when you sit back on your heels, he watches you with a dark kind of want in his eyes. Like a cornered animal, unsure of what to expect, but full of anticipation nonetheless; he watches you reach behind yourself to the drain, to the last remnants of Felix's bathwater still clinging to the metal and porcelain. You gather as much of the liquid as you can across your fingers, palms pressing into the mostly diminished puddles.

You can see it when Oliver realises what you're doing, the way his eyes transfixed on your hand as you wrap it around him. Already slick with his own precum, your hand glides with the remnants of Felix's water. Oliver's head drops back against the edge of the tub, mouth open and desperate and gasping, his eyes closed. God he's gorgeous like this.

He coaxes you up to him this time, and you let him, press yourself to him, rocking gently along with the movements of your hand and his hips, close enough to fucking to tease you both. For all this was about Oliver, every part of you felt alive and on fire with need, and seeing him like this, getting him into this state and knowing how he looked at you, how much he wanted you in this moment, it was doing things for you. Fantastic things.

When he gets close, he wraps an arm around you, hand holding the back of your head in a far firmer grip than you'd been anticipating. But there's a thrill about it, about how he holds you so tightly, his lips by your ear as you obligingly speed up to meet the frantic pace of his hips.

"Felix~" he keens, a desperate whimper in your ear amid dizzying, gasping breathes, hot against your neck. And again, Felix's name pulled from Oliver's lips like a desperate prayer for only you to hear. Something about hearing it tips you over the edge, and you realise how close you are in this moment. All it takes is you making the faintest whine, a noise of encouragement -

"Felix, please," Oliver gasps, and your breath catches as you see stars behind your eyes. You barely feel it when Oliver sinks his teeth into your shoulder once more, his orgasm hitting mere moments after yours, cumming all over your hand and his stomach. Finally, Oliver lets you go, eyes wide as you lean back with the widest, satisfied smile. There's blood on his lips, watching you with this unreadable expression as you sit back on your heels again.

Your head's still spinning, endorphins pulsing through your blood alongside the adrenaline.

Neither of you move for a long moment, still sizing each other up it seemed, at least until you raised your hand. Oliver all over you. You won't be the one to back down; his eyes meet yours and you smile, all satisfied and wolfish as you slowly lick your fingers clean. He's transfixed again, watching the way you lap him up.

No-one's ever looked at you like that, like they're desperate for you to devour every inch of them. But the moment can't last, not outside of your memories at least.

You leave in silence, just as you'd arrived, leaving Oliver alone in the bathtub, watching you like he can't quite be sure it wasn't all a dream. You hope he dreams about this, about your blood on his tongue and Felix's name on his lips.

Except you reach for the door handle only to realise it's cracked ajar. Its closed over, door almost flush and closed, but not quite. Huh. You could have sworn... But you shrug off the thought, slipping back into your room and making sure to shut the door properly behind you.

Pyjama pants and underwear both damp for several reasons, you pull them off and quickly toss them into the laundry hamper. At this moment, you can't bring yourself to bother with anything more than a new pair of underwear before you're crawling into bed beside Felix. Who's on his side.

Huh.

Felix never sleeps on his side because it messes with his shoulders. He's also still, like he's holding his breath. When you curl an arm over him, cool hand resting on his chest, you can feel his racing heartbeat. Finally, his breath comes stuttering out. Pressing yourself up against him, you hum faintly, hand drifting lower, teasingly. You rest your hand low on his belly, between the gorgeous, defined lines of his hips, but refusing beneath his waistband. There comes a faint huff from Felix, but it's indecipherable; he's still on edge, clearly having realised that you'd connected all the dots.

When you speak it's practically a moan, voice low but sharp in his ear as you let your fingers dip lower. What a night it will be to remember, spent keeping your boys happy.

"Fi, you fucking pervert."

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick smut #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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peakyltd · 1 year ago

Text

Peonies

I wrote this one shot for K’s (@runnning-outof-time) 'Tales from the Flower Garden, 3K Celebration'. The prompt I used can be found in italics (I might’ve even used it twice) 🤭

A/N: I wanted a challenge and I got one but no challenge is too big, right? It's my first one shot and it contains way more words than I expected, I didn't know I had it in me 😂 Now after rereading it a few times, I've became a bit unsure about it so I'd love to hear your feedback/tips/comments/anything! I hope that you guys like it! 💓

Extra note: The start of the story is set before the war.

Warning: Mentions of war. A bit of angst.

Wordcount: 3851

(Gif by: @thesoldiersminute. I take no credit for the gif!)

1913

“Goodmorning miss (Y/L/N).” A familiar voice rang trough the small flower shop, greeting her. (Y/N) recognized it immediately. “Goodmorning Mr. Shelby.” She giggled while turning around to face him. “What are you doing here so early in the morning?” Tommy leaned against the desk. “Nice to see you too (Y/N).” She rolled her eyes playfully.

(Y/N) and Tommy knew each other since they were kids, they were only 2 years apart and both grew up in Small Heath. She often played on the streets with the Shelby’s as kids and when they grew older, they hung out frequently. She worked in a flower shop in the neighborhood and Tommy loved to visit her there when he had the chance.

“I’m here to pick up some flowers.” He continued “Are you really?” (Y/N) asked him. “Have to make up something to Pol. I broke her expensive plates. She was furious.” He chuckled. “M' laughing now but I thought I was going to see god.”

Tommy was a soft and charming guy with a side full of mischievousness. (Y/N) loved that about him. He was easy going and she always had a good connection with the 23 year old Shelby. They had been friends for years after all. Although some feelings had kind of changed. It made her nervous, he made her nervous.

(Y/N) laughed. “What happened?” “Plates were on the table, Arthur was being an ass, I pushed him, he bumped against the table, you can guess the rest.” He explained to her. She shook her head, chuckling. “Poor Polly.” “Mind you I was almost a dead man, just saying.” He chuckled, while walking trough the small store.

“I think I'll go for these.” Tommy stated while picking up a small bouquet with pink roses and walking back to the desk, laying the flowers on top of it. “Aunt Polly will completely forget what you did if she sees these Tom.” (Y/N) joked, smiling at him.

While she wrapped the flowers up, he took a package of cigarettes out of his jacket. “Roses are you favorite too, right?” She looked up at him. “Yes an-” Tommy cut her off. “And Peonies. I know that.”

(Y/N) looked up at him. “Maybe I'll buy them for you one day. Would also look great in your bridal bouquet.” He looked at her, a cheeky smile on his face. (Y/N) gave him a confused look. "My bridal bouquet?" "Yeah, you know... for our wedding."

(Y/N) blushed, not knowing where to look or what to say. “Oh...” she muttered. Tommy took a cigarette out of the package, a big grin on his face.

“I uhm… yes they would look nice in a bouquet.” (Y/N) awkwardly stammered while she put the roses he chose, back on the desk in front of him. Tommy put the cigarette in his mouth, an amused look on his face. "Are you free tomorrow evening?"

(Y/N) nodded. "You planned the wedding already?" She joked, trying to ease down her own nerves but mostly hoping that Tommy would forget about her reaction.

"Not really but we can if you want." He laughed "I was thinking about going out for a walk. I want to show you something. You'll love it." "Okay."

"I'll come pick you up after dinner." He answered, as he takes the roses and puts the money on the desk. "See you tomorrow then." She smiled at him. "See you tomorrow miss (Y/L/N)." He said while walking out of the store.

Tommy was late, it was slowly getting dark and she was still waiting for him. Maybe he forgot, she thought until she heard knocking at her door. She got up to open it.

“I thought you wouldn’t come anymore.” She told him as she put on her coat. “I would never forget about you, eh." He defended as she walked out the door. "I hope not."

"You're questioning it?" He asked her whilst bringing her in for a hug. She giggled, hugging him back. Although she was nervous, his strong arms felt safe. She wouldn't mind just holding him the whole evening.

"Just kidding Tom." "I know." He mumbled as he kissed her forehead. "Ready to go?" Y/N blushed at his sudden move. "Yes."

The walk took a bit longer than she expected, it got dark pretty quickly and she still had no clue about where Tommy was taking her. Until they both ended up in front of a wall that seperated them from whatever could be behind it.

(Y/N) wanted to ask Tommy what they were doing here but before she knew he had already climbed on top of it and reached out for her hand. She hesitately grabbed it as he helped her onto the wall, making sure she could sit down safely.

On the other side was a beautiful garden with many flowers, lit by the moon that was now fully visible. A small greenhouse stood next to it and in the distance was a big house. It was barely visible because of the lack of lights.

“It’s beautiful Tom but I really think we shouldn’t be here.” She whispered. "It's fine (Y/N), nothing to be afraid of." He assured her while jumping off the wall.

"We're on someone else's property Tommy, I don't want to get into any trouble." (Y/N) pleaded whilst looking around, afraid that someone would caught them.

"Come." Tommy grabbed her hands and carefully helped her off the wall. "But I-" "Now look at these flowers and tell me what kind they are." He disrupted, eyeing her to see if she finally got why he brought her here.

When she realized what he meant she looked up at him. "Peonies..." Not knowing what else to say. "Your favorites." He smiled at her. "How did you find this?" "Came across it once while helping uncle Charlie and I thought you'd like to see it." "I do." She breathed out, looking at the flowers. Tommy took her hand and strolled with her trough the garden.

"They are so pretty, I'm sure their colors are even more beautiful in the daylight." (Y/N)'s fingers slided carefully over the peonies. Tommy took his coat off and layed it down on the grass, in the middle of the garden. The space was surrounded by the many gorgeous flowers.

"You can sit here if you want." (Y/N) turned around to face him and smiled at his gesture. "Oh, thank you." She walked over and sat down on Tommy's coat, he sat down next to her. "We could come back to see them in daylight." He offered.

"I would love to but I don't think the owner would like it." She mentioned as she eyed the house in the distance. "They don't have to know." He stated, looking at her.

She shook her head. "They will, if they see us." "I'll think of something." Tommy moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She felt the butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she leaned against him. "If you forgot your worries about people finding us here, what do you think of it?" He asked while stroking her hair. It was soft between his fingers.

"I love it. Thank you for bringing me here. It's very special." She admits as she looked up at him. His blue eyes meeting hers. "Special place for a special young lady." He beamed, stroking her rose tinted cheek gently with his thumb.

(Y/N) giggled, putting her hand on his chest. "You're making me shy." She softly admitted. "Nothing to be shy about, love." He told her as he held her gaze.

"You look beautiful in the moonlight." Tommy leaned in confidently but carefully, afraid of scaring her away. (Y/N)'s heart was beating fast, breath stuck in her throat. "Can I kiss you?" He asked her softly. "Please..." She whispered.

Tommy pressed his lips softly against hers. She returned the favor and slowly moved her hand to his neck, pulling him closer. Blood rushed trough her veins as his hand moved down to her hip, holding her firmer as he deepened the kiss.

She had dreamt often of this moment but never thought it would be this good. His lips were soft and his touch so gentle, she melted. He smelled like cologne mixed with the smell of cigarettes, so familiar but this time it hit her different.

Tommy slowly pulled away from the kiss, a smile on his face. (Y/N) looked up at him, beaming as she took a deep breath. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” Tommy confessed. “Me too.” (Y/N) admitted, placing her hand on his cheek.

Before Tommy could say anything else, Y/N had pulled him into another kiss already, this time a little more fiery. Her nerves seemed to have made place for more confidence. Tommy placed one hand on her lower back as the other grabbed her jaw gently. She moaned softly, her hands roamed trough his hair, pulling softly on the ends.

It felt like they were the only people in the whole world that moment. Just them, as if they were meant for each other.

This time she was the first to break away from him. slowly lowering her hands down to his chest. Tommy pressed his lips against hers again for a quick kiss. "I fancy you even more than I already did." He confessed to her as he looked into her eyes.

"You fancied me?" "Wasn't it obvious?" He laughed. "Well... I don't know. I thought I... I thought you didn't l like me that way." She stammered.

"And I wasn't sure about you fancying me until the day I came in to buy flowers." "What do you mean?" (Y/N) asked him, hoping he wouldn't bring up her awkward response.

"When I started about our wedding day, I never saw someone's cheeks that shade of red." He teased, grinning at her. "Tommy!" She gently pushed his chest, laughing at his comment. "Just kidding, love. But honestly, that was when I knew I had to shoot my shot."

A blush creeped onto Y/N's cheeks again. "Well I'm happy you did." She confessed to him, looking down at her lap, fumbling with her dress. "Don't get shy." He chuckled as he lifts her chin with his finger. "Now before I'll walk you home, I just want to do this one more time." He smiled at her before kissing her again.

Months went by since they shared their first kiss and they couldn't be happier. Tommy officially asked (Y/N) to be his girlfriend during a dinner he made. He made sure he wore his best clothes and had the house to himself. He had begged his family to let him have the house for a few hours. He tried to make her favorite dish because he knew how much she loved it and he wanted to impress her

(Y/N) showed up very excited for whatever surprise Tommy had planned for her. Candles had lit the small dining table and he made sure he had a fresh bouquet of flowers for her. Of course her favorites.

After dinner, they ended their night in front of the fireplace where they shared plans for the future, their future. After a while they decided to move to Tommy’s bedroom, not wanting to be bothered by any of the returning Shelby’s.

It was a perfect night, even though Tommy didn't turn out to be the best cook.

1914

"I saved a piece for you." (Y/N) said as she takes a piece of pie, neatly wrapped, out of her basket. "I know it's your favorite." She added as she hands Tommy the piece.

They agreed to meet at the cut in Tommy’s break. He was taking care of the horses to make some extra money. The cut was also the place where they could escape both their families for a while and spend time with one another. The faint sounds of the town in the distance.

"You didn't have to." "I wanted to. It's made with love." She giggled. "Thank you." He mumbled as he kissed her cheek, earning a smile. Tommy unpacked the piece of pie. "Don't you want a piece of it?" "No, it's all yours Tom."

A few birds flew by, Y/N watched them. "I wish we could be as free as them." She said, looking at Tommy as he eats a bit of his pie. "We could go wherever we wanted." He didn't react, his mind somewhere else. "Tommy?" He looked up at her. "Hm?" "Are you okay?" He nodded.

"Are you sure?" She asked him, worry on her face. He acted different and it confused her. "I have to tell you something" He eventually confessed. (Y/N) nervously played with his fingers. "I-I signed up for the military." He told her, staring at the water.

He knew he was going to hurt her and he dreaded telling her. He knew she would understand eventually. He just had to do it.

(Y/N) didn't know what to say. Many people had already been sent off to fight but she didn’t expect Tommy to go. Or at least she hoped he wouldn’t have to.

“Arthur and John will be joining too." He added.

“Oh.” She whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “Where will you go?” She whimpered. “France.”

She fought against her tears but lost. Tommy put the pie next to him, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in for a tight hug. Her soft sobs the only thing to be heard.

“Don’t cry, love. It will be okay.” He tried to assure her as he rubbed her back. He didn’t know if it would be okay. He didn’t know anything.

“How can you say that?” She softly says. Tommy gently grabs her face, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Because I’ll make sure it will be.” (Y/N) looked at him, taking a deep breath.

“You have to promise me that you’ll come back. Alive.” Her voice shook, desperate for some kind of assurance. “I promise, darling. I promise you that I will come back.”

(Y/N) snuggled into his chest, softly sniffling. “Why, Tommy?” “I have to do it.” “Do you really?” “I want to.” He shortly explained.

“When will you leave?” “In two weeks.”

They held each other for a while, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time. Tommy stroked her hair as she stared at the water, not fully realizing what he just told her.

“Would you like to go out for a walk tonight?” He asked. She sat up and wiped the new fallen tears of her face. “Yes.” “We could go see the horses as well eh, they like your company.” He smiled at her, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “I’d like that.” A small smile on her face.

She got up and took her basket. “See you tonight then.” “Do you want me to walk you home?” “No, thank you. I’ll be alright.” She told him, straightening her dress. Just as she wanted to walk off, he called her name.

“Y/N?” “Yes?” “You can’t leave without giving me a kiss.” He said, looking up at her, a grin on his face. Despite the situation, she couldn’t help but smile.

1918

(Y/N) was nervously waiting on the trainstation. Today was the day Tommy finally would come back home. At least she hoped so, it had been weeks since she received his last letter and she didn’t want to think about what could have happened in the meantime.

She joined Polly, Ada and Finn who had missed their nephews and brothers. They all lived years in uncertainty, something that wouldn’t end until they were here. Back in their arms.

She remembered the last time she was here, sending the love of her life away. Not knowing if he would ever return. Tommy tried to cheer her up with his jokes, saying that it would be okay and that he would be back before she knew it. It still upset her when she thought about it. He wanted to be strong for her but she saw the fear and sadness in his eyes when they said their last goodbyes.

As the train approached, people started to gather on the platform. Most of them were finally able to see their loved ones again. Or at least they hoped so.

Once the train had stopped, a crowd had formed already. (Y/N) moved closer to to see if she could find Tommy. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to look over the crowd.

No sight of Tommy so far. Patience running low as she walked back to Polly. The woman saw the anxiety in (Y/N)’s face. “Just a few more minutes.” She tried to comfort her.

(Y/N) nodded, watching how soldiers walked over the platform, looking for their families. Others had already reunited with their loved ones. But there was still no sign of Tommy.

Minutes never felt that much like hours until she spotted a familiar face between all the uniforms. He seemed different, his hair was shorter and he looked older but it was him. “Thomas!” She yelled out, running to him, tears brimming in her eyes. He was finally home. Alive. Like he had promised.

She flew around his neck, Tommy wrapped his arms tightly around her. “I missed you so much Tommy.” She sobbed softly. “I missed you too, love.” He told her, pulling her in for a kiss.

(Y/N) looked up at him, wiping away her tears. Tears of relieve this time. When he met her eyes, she smiled at him. Soon realizing that something had changed. The little twinkle had made place for a kind of dull, emptiness in them.

Tommy stroked her hair, pulling her in for another kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, moving her fingers trough his hair. Finally being able to have his lips back on hers.

“I’m glad you didn’t forget about me.” He mumbled against her lips. “I would never.” She stated, happy to have him safe back in her arms.

It had been two weeks since Tommy came home. Although she was very happy to have him back, things had changed. His demeanor was cold and distant and he talked less.

She knew he had seen horrible things in France, things that caused his sleepless nights and gave him awful flashbacks. Somewhere she hoped that it would take time for him to recover in some way but deep down she knew he had changed forever. The only thing she could do for him, was loving him. Be there for him when he needed someone. No matter what.

So that's what she did. She'd listen to him when he did want to talk, show him how much she loved him and take him out if he wanted, trying to clear his mind in some way.

(Y/N) stood in the kitchen, making sandwiches. As she wrapped them up, she put them in her basket. She decided to take Tommy out for a picnic, it was a sunny day and she hoped he would enjoy to spend some time outside.

She took her basket and went outside to meet him at his house. When she arrived, he was already waiting for her. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.” She said as she kissed his cheek. “You didn’t.” He assured. “I do have a meeting this afternoon so I can’t stay all day.” “That’s okay.” She told him.

“Where are you taking me?” He asked her. “You’ll see.”

Their walk was quiet, the wind blew softly and the sun warmed their skin. “We could’ve gone to the cut.” Tommy stated. “We could but we won’t. We’ll be going right there.” (Y/N) pointed at a gate.

He recognized it faintly but it still seemed different from what he could remember. Once they got closer he knew why.

The gate used to be a wall. The wall he helped (Y/N) over to surprise her with the beautiful garden that was hidden behind it. As he looked at her to say something, he saw her taking out a key. She took it to unlock the gate and opened it for him.

Tommy frowned, a confused look on his face. (Y/N) chuckled. “Are you going to ask something or shall I just explain it?” “Just explain it.”

“My boss bought the house. The land came with it and now we sell the flowers in the shop.” She explained to him. “I told him I wanted to take care of the garden and he let me. That’s why I have this.” She said, dangling the key before putting it into her basket.

Tommy nodded. "I came here often when you were away. It reminded me of you." (Y/N) told him as she took his hand. She brought him to the middle of the garden, just like he had done for her. She sat the basket down, taking the blanket and layed it on the grass.

They both sat down and she handed him a sandwich. “I made your favorite.” Tommy took of his cap. “Thank you.” He answered, looking around the garden. “I never took you to see them by daylight.”

“Now I’m taking you to do so.” She smiled at him. “We did lots of other nice things.” She added. “But I still should have taken you.” Tommy said, eating his sandwich. “You can still do it. It’s not too late for that.” She assured him. "We can go anytime we want now."

A comfortable silence fell over them as they finished their sandwiches. The sounds of birds and rustling of the leaves were calming on both of them. It made her think of life before war. Before Tommy had changed. She wondered if he could ever be happy again, dealing with such a trauma. It’s been a long time since she had seen a genuine smile on his face.

“Are you getting used to the life at home again?” She softly asked him. He looked at her. “Yes.” He answerd as he layed down.

“Come, I want to hold you.” He told her as he patted the spot next to him. (Y/N) layed down, her head on his chest. He put his arm around her, stroking her back. “I love you.” She told him softly while drawing circles on his chest with her fingers. “I love you too, Y/N.”

They stayed like this with each other for a while, enjoying each other’s company, until Tommy asked her if she could check his pocket watch. “It’s 2.30 PM.” She told him. He groaned softly. “I’m sorry, I have a meeting at 3.” He said, both of them sitting up. “I’ll stay here a little longer.” She said. “Are you sure?” (Y/N) nodded. “I’m sure Tommy, don’t worry. I'll get home safely.” She smiled at him.

Tommy got up and put his cap back on. “Thank you for… this. I appreciate it.” He said. “I’ll see you tonight, eh?” “I’ll see you tonight.” She answered as she watched him walk away. “Tommy?” He stopped walking and turned to her. “You can’t leave without giving me a kiss.” She told him, grinning. Tommy looked at her, a smile on his face.

One that she had been longing to see for weeks.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders one shot

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

Text

Clandestine. Part Three.

It's better this way. At least, that's what you're telling yourself.

Pairing - Stewy Hosseini x Female!Roy Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - cursing. allusions to smut. angst. mention of death. quick mention of drug use.

Author's Note - it's here, you guys. part three !! thank you so much for all of the continued love on this series, it makes me so happy. there'll definitely be at least a couple more parts after this one, so don't worry!! i'm a sucker for a happy ending ;)

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Part One. Part Two. Part Four. Series Masterlist.

Main Masterlist. Inbox.

"-and I know it's a fuckin' tough challenge, but I think we can do it. We've got people on our side, and I got a call from Lawrence this morning - I'm gonna see if I can convince him. So, we definitely need you in that fuckin' meeting."

Silence.

"Are you even fucking listening to me? Hello?"

"... What?"

"I said, we need you at the Board Meeting this afternoon. Kendall made me promise I'd show up with you."

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Roman looks you up and down carefully, brows quirked in curiosity.

"The fuck is going on with you? You've been super weird these last couple of weeks."

That confirms your suspicions that Kendall hasn't told anyone about that day at Stewy's apartment. You were wondering if he had, nervously trying to play detective around your siblings.

"I'm just... tired. I'm fine. Don't worry about me, okay?"

Roman doesn't look convinced, but nods anyway.

"Just... you know, I, uh - I'm... I'm here. If you need me. You know that, don't you?"

You smile softly at his awful attempt at affection.

"I know, Rome. Thank you."

"Come on," he says, jumping from his chair. "We better get to that meeting early, Ken wants to talk strategy."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're sitting silently, heels kicked off, curled up in an expensive leather chair. Kendall and Roman are talking business, the complex jargon going straight over your head. You're in a world of your own, completely detached from your current reality, when you hear it.

Rome says it off hand, not thinking anything of it. You watch as Kendall flinches ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly. Your throat tightens, your heart kicks up in your chest. Then, he says it again.

His name.

Stewy.

"I know if you push him the right way, Ken, Stewy is fully on board. We got him, I know we do."

Stewy.

Stewy, Stewy, Stewy.

The word plays on repeat in your mind, like a stuck record. Kendall's eyes flick to you, as if to gauge your reaction, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction. You haven't spoke since your argument, deciding that the silent treatment was the best course of action. You know it's torture for Kendall, but you're both stubborn. Neither of you is willing to back down first.

"Uh - yeah, yeah, I, uh, I think, maybe. I think maybe he is. I don't, uh, I don't know."

Rome is oblivious to Kendall's reluctance to speak on the subject, clearly.

"Well, can you fuckin' talk to him? You know you're like the only person in Waystar he'll listen to."

Kendall's eyes are darting between you and Roman frantically. You can read him like a book.

"Yeah, I'll, uh, sure. I'll talk to him."

You scoff under your breath, but he hears it.

"You got something to fuckin' say, Princess? Huh?"

Princess. You haven't heard that one in a while. Your childhood nickname. It started off as a sweet endearment, but now, it's thrown in your face when the boys want to get under your skin.

"Fuck you, Kendall," you bite.

"Uh... Did I miss something?"

"Fuck off, Roman," you and Ken say simultaneously.

Any other day, you'd laugh about saying the same thing at the same time. You'd joke about how in sync you are, how you share one brain. Now, it just makes you infinitely sadder.

You're about to make another sarcastic remark when Sandi and Sandy enter the room, cutting the moment short. You're not sure if you're grateful or spiteful.

One by one, the Waystar Board members file in, taking their seats at the table. You're holding your breath, sitting at the edge of your chair, waiting for the inevitable. You can predict it now, the way you're going to feel when he walks in - chest tight, lungs knotted, fists clenched.

Stewy walks in, and the opposite happens.

You exhale your held breath, and relax slightly. The tension leaves your shoulders for a moment, your lip gets released from in between your teeth. It's like seeing him has cured you, even temporarily. As if he's your own brand of medicine, your personalised prescription.

His eyes catch yours, and you have a silent conversation. So much is said in such a short time.

Hi. Hi. Are you okay? No, are you? No. Not at all.

The room is oblivious to this emotional exchange - except for your older brother. Kendall watches your every move like a hawk. He's trying to figure out if the two of you are still together, still sneaking around behind his back. You haven't spoken to him since he stormed out of Stewy's apartment, meaning he has no idea about the events that occurred after his departure.

The meeting goes off as usual, full of tension and sniped remarks. You don't listen to a word anyone says, too focused on keeping your attention away from Stewy across the table. You're determined not to look at him. You know that if you do, he'll see right through you. He'll know how you really feel. And that is something you're not at all prepared for.

"Okay, well, if no one else has anything they'd like to cover, I think we're done here. Meeting adjourned."

Everyone rises from their places, shaking hands and having quick discussions before leaving through the tall glass doors. You stay put, in no rush to exit. Kendall approaches Stewy, and you watch the exchange with a clenched jaw.

"Hey, uh... can we, like, talk, maybe? I think, yeah, I think we should talk."

Stewy takes a long, hard look at Kendall, before chuckling humourlessly.

"I've got nothing to say to you, man."

Your brother stays stuck in his place, staring at the floor beneath him. As Stewy leaves, he can't resist running his fingers across your shoulders gently. You look back at him, but he's already gone.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Home doesn't feel like home anymore.

Everywhere you look, you're reminded of Stewy.

You're in the kitchen, and all you can think about is the time the two of you slow danced in the middle of the night, slipping and sliding on the tiled floor. There's a half finished bottle of wine on the counter, abandoned in favour of gliding around the room in your socks. Stewy clicks on some low, jazzy music, and pulls you into his arms. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.

You're in the bathroom, and you can't stop thinking about when the two of you took a bubble bath together, lavender scented steam filling the air. Your back is pressed to Stewy's chest, sitting in between his legs as he massages the shampoo into your hair. He's humming softly, a song his Mother used to sing when he was a child. There's not an ounce of tension in either of your bodies. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.

You're in the living room, and you can't avoid the memories of curling up with Stewy on the couch. He always lets you pick the movie - sarcastically rolling his eyes at your choices, but never protesting. You sit there for hours, bodies tangled together like two pieces of the same puzzle. You feel like you finally belong somewhere.

You're in the bedroom, and you can't stop picturing the way that Stewy would take you apart and put you back together again. Before him, all of the sex you had was quick, transactional, impersonal. But it was different with Stewy. With Stewy, it felt like you had all the time in the world. It was tender, loving, connected. He genuinely cared about your pleasure - learning your body inch by inch, memorising it like a sculptor. You allowed yourself, for the first time ever, to let go. You put your soul in his hands with full faith. Lying there, limbs intertwined beneath the soft sheets, there was no doubt in your mind. You belonged somewhere.

And now that safe place is gone.

Home doesn't feel like home anymore, and it's all because of him. You could move at the drop of a hat, find a new apartment tomorrow if you wanted. But you can't. You can't leave all of these memories behind. As painful as they are, they're all you have.

You turn on the TV, and flick to ATN News. They're running a story on a young baseball player that tragically died in a car wreck, aged twenty four. You sit and watch the whole segment, unable to tear your eyes away from the screen. When it ends, you turn it off, and sit in silence.

You sit there for hours, in the quiet, just thinking. About everything. The number twenty four keeps circling around in your head.

He was twenty four. Twenty four years old. He hadn't even got to live properly. Life is so short. Life is so unpredictable. God, anything could happen tomorrow. Twenty four. Twenty four. Twenty four.

You glance towards the clock on the wall, which reads 10:24. It feels like a sign.

All of a sudden, you're sick of waiting. Sick of being told how to live your life. Sick of trying to conform to these ideals that people are placing on you. Fuck them. Life's too short. You have to start living for you.

You're pulling on your shoes and grabbing your keys before you can even process it. You call the number for a car, but no one answers. Fuck it, you'll run across New York City if you have to. If it means you get to hold the man you love in your arms again.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

The knocking on the door is so loud, Stewy's half convinced he's about to be murdered. He swings open the heavy oak to be met with the sight of you, looking like you just ran a marathon.

You stand still for a moment, staring at each other, as if you can't believe what you're seeing. You're here, in each others vicinity again. It'd be so easy to reach out and touch him.

So, you do.

You barrel into Stewy, jumping into his arms, throwing yours around his neck. He catches you easily, holding onto you as tight as he possibly can. You wrap your legs around his waist and press yourself even closer, as if to merge both of your bodies into one being.

You breathe him in, and it's the first time you've taken a full breath in weeks. He smells the same as he always did, musky and woody and expensive and yours. He still smells like he's yours.

You don't realise you're crying until you pull away from him slightly, and see the wet spot on his t shirt. He puts you down and closes the door, locking it behind you. He grabs your hand and leads you into the kitchen, parting from you to pour two glasses of wine.

You jump up onto the counter and part your legs, Stewy coming to stand between them instinctively. He places a hand on each of your thighs, warmth seeping through his palms. You're face to face, unsure where to start.

"Baby," he breathes. "What are you doing here?"

He sounds unsure, almost scared. If only you knew how frantically his heart is beating in his chest.

"Life is too short," you reply quickly. "Way too short. I could literally die tomorrow."

Stewy looks at you carefully, brow quirked in confusion.

"Honey, are you on drugs? Because they're really not good for you, you know."

"Says the man who did coke off my ass last month," you tease defiantly.

He fights back a smile, but it curls at the corner of his mouth. You grin at him, hands moving to play with the hair at the back of his neck.

"I'm not on drugs," you reassure. "I was just watching the news, and it kinda put everything into perspective. Life is so short and so fragile. Why am I wasting mine trying to appease my family, who'll never be happy, no matter what I do?"

He smiles at you softly, nodding as you continue.

"I just - my whole life, my brothers have just done whatever the fuck they wanted. Especially Kendall. But I make a choice for me, and all of a sudden I'm the villain? How is that fair?"

"It isn't," he agrees, squeezing your thighs in reassurance. "They're all hypocrites. Do you know how many stupid decisions I've watched Kendall make over the years? They think they know everything, but they don't."

"I mean, look at them. Roman is incapable of affection, Kendall's ex wife hates him, and Connor practically bought Willa. My Dad's on his second wife, not including the countless mistresses he's had. None of them know anything about love. They don't know a thing."

"I think you're the only person in your family capable of love," he chuckles.

"I'm starting to think you might be right," you laugh.

You lean forward and press your forehead to Stewy's, exhaling the tension from your shoulders.

"I'm really sorry," you whisper. "For everything. I treated you horribly, and none of it was your fault."

"It wasn't your fault, either. You know that, right?"

"I don't know. It's so hard to get a view on things when they're happening. But when I took a step back, it gave me a clearer look. And it made me realise something."

"And what's that?" he murmurs.

"I realised that I cannot live a day without you, Stewy Hosseini. I don't want to."

"Thank God," he breathes in a laugh. "I've been going fucking crazy here without you."

You beam a grin at him, so bright it's a wonder that the lights don't shatter.

"I love you, and I won't apologise for it," you confess. "Whatever the consequences are, I'll accept them. Nothing can touch me when I'm loved by you. You're like my own personal armour."

"Man, we're the worst," he laughs. "We could love anyone in the world, and we just had to choose each other."

"I'm gonna choose you everyday, I'm afraid," you tease. "There's no going back now."

"I wouldn't want to," he murmurs. "I don't want to go back."

"Me neither," you whisper against his mouth.

Stewy leans forward and captures your lips with his, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You get completely lost in each other, revelling in the feeling of being back together. You feel like you can finally breathe again. The other half of your heart has returned.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The two of you are tangled among the sheets, limbs intertwined and hands linked. You run your fingertips in mindless patterns over his chest, the sprinkling of hair tickling you, making you smile gently. Stewy's playing with your hair, soothing you softly. His heartbeat is lulling you into tranquility, relaxing you completely. This is paradise, you're convinced. Paradise.

"It can be like this forever, you know," he murmurs into the top of your head, kissing you tenderly.

"I know," you reassure. "And it will be."

Stewy can't stop thinking about the diamond ring still sitting in his nightstand. After your fight, he thought he'd never get to see you wear it. But now he knows he will. And that makes his heart flutter uncontrollably in his ribcage, like technicolour butterflies trying to escape him.

He pulls you impossibly closer, trying to breathe you in. He never wants to let you go. You don't want him to.

"We should tell them," you say suddenly. "Fuck the consequences."

"Are you sure, honey?"

You sit up in bed, looking at him carefully. His hair is mussed, shoulders relaxed, lip bitten between his teeth. He's never looked more beautiful.

"I'm sure. I wasn't, before. I think that's why I tried to push you away - I was trying to force myself into doing something I wasn't ready for. But almost losing you has made me realise that you're it for me, Stewy. You are my first and only choice. You are the only thing I'm sure of."

Stewy's chest swells with emotion, throat tightening, eyes welling. He's determined not to cry, but fuck, he's close.

"Do you know how many times I've dreamt of you saying those words to me?" he chokes out. "I love you. Fuck, I love you so much it makes me ache."

"I love you," you whisper back, cradling his face in your gentle hands. "I love you. I'm never letting you go again. Not ever."

You kiss him softly, basking in the feeling of his lips on yours. You get lost in each other once again, both of you in disbelief at being back in each others arms.

"Let's tell them," you whisper against his mouth. "Fuck the consequences."

"Fuck the consequences," he grins. "It's you and me, baby. You and me against the world."

You feel as if you're floating, levitating, powered by the sheer force of your love. Nothing can touch you. You're invincible, when you're in Stewy's arms.

He knows this is it. This is the moment. He makes his decision, and reaches his arm out to open the top drawer of this nightstand. His pulse quickens, body practically vibrating with anticipation. As he pulls it open, your phone rings, the shrill tone piercing through your peace.

You go to decline it, but notice that it's Connor's name lighting up your screen. There's a weird feeling in your stomach, suddenly.

"Hello?"

"Hi, sweetheart. It's Connor. Where are you?"

You cast a glance towards Stewy, and he shakes his head softly, silently communicating. Not yet. We'll tell him in person.

"I'm at a friend's place. What's up?"

"I, uh, I don't... I don't really know how to, um... you need to come to Dad's apartment, ASAP."

"Wait, what? Why?"

There are a million scenarios swirling around in your head, clouding your mind, overwhelming you.

"He's, uh.. I just, um, I don't-"

"Spit it out, Con."

A pause. He takes a deep breath.

"Dad's dead."

Silence.

Your heart breaks. Stewy hears it happen.

Stewy Tag List

@justacaliforniandreamer @616wilsons @shawty-writes-a-little @isuspectitwasthenargles @thinemineours @buckysbae @jolie989 @allcheesemelts

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okminer07 · 3 months ago

Text

A Match Beyond Measure Pt 12

I don't know if I've said this before, but any and all feedback is appreciated, I'd love to be able to improve as a writer and hear what you think, any suggestions. Anyways, on with the story.

Cecilia was a little thrown off by the change of subjects, “Oh…. w-well a while. I guess”

“Did you take a class or somethin’?”

“N-not really, I used to work part-time at a bakery during high school if that counts.”

Garret sighed, “I don’t miss those days, that’s for sure.”

“You didn’t like high school?”

He let out a short laugh, “Hated it. Mine started way too early and I lived a decent ways away, so I’d have to wake up even earlier to even make it on time. I don’t think my teachers liked me all that much either. There was this one woman, Mrs. Dechaseray and I swear she had it out for me. Always got mad at me for forgetting the date and then would give me an F because of it.”

“That’s… harsh.”

“Yeah, I know. And then there was our gym teacher. God, he was awful. One time he called me up to stand in front of the entire class and used me as an example of why exercise is important.”

Cecilia’s eyes widened, her hand coming up to her mouth in shock, “That’s awful.”

“Felt like it. And yeah, maybe he had a point if I’m being honest but it still hurt.”

“What do you mean he had a point? That’s just horrible.”

Garret frowned, “Well, my old man would say similar things so I was kind of used to hearing it.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you saying sorry for? You didn’t say them. Plus, they really did have a good point.”

“Well, I think you look pretty good.”

He smiled down at her, “Think so?” she nodded. “Thanks, I’m glad to hear that. High school wasn’t all bad. My last two years, I took up woodshop which was pretty neat. This one time, I helped make this huge-”

A loud crunch along with the blare of a horn pierced through the air. Garret froze and looked down.

“Ah shit.”

Cecilia cautiously crawled and peered over the edge of his palm. All the color drained from her face as Garret lifted his foot to reveal the crushed remains of a red sports car. She began to tremble, it was nearly flat. Completely ruined and unrecoverable, like it had gotten caught under a steamroller. Was it empty? Oh god, had someone been in there?! She looked to Garret who was still staring down at the ground, cringing at the sight.

His eyes flicked over to Cecilia, “I uh-”

“What the fuck happened?!” both jumped at a voice screaming up from the ground. The two of them both looked back down to see a man dressed in a business suit running towards the remains, “My car! The fuck you do to my car?!”

Garret looked around aimlessly before addressing the raging man at his feet “I’m uh- I’m real sorry sir. I swear to you it was a-”

“You fucking son of a bitch! Do you know how much this cost me?! Do you?!”

“N-no but I-”

“Do you know who I am?!”

“I uh- no” he glanced over at Cecilia, “B-but I swear, I can pay you back for-”

“What is one of your kind even doing in these parts?! You lost or something dumbass?!”

“I-”

“It’s my fault sir!” Cecilia yelled, peering back over the edge nervously, “I-I was distracting him.”

The man’s head turned to look at Garret’s hand, spotting her head poking out from behind it, “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m-”

“Oh let me guess” the man sneered, “You’re one of those lazy bitches who thinks they’re too good for traffic or cars. Thinks they're saving the fucking planet by hiring some giant to carry their sorry ass wherever-”

“You shut your fucking mouth!” Cecilia’s hand flew up and clamped tightly over her ears which still rang from Garret’s thunderous yell.

The man below had backed away, his hands slowly lowering from his own ears, “Watch it asshole. Don’t you be talking to me like-”

“Don’t you be talking to her like that!”

Cecilia shook as she looked up at Garret’s face. His jaw clenched as his gaze hardened. For the first time since she’d met him, he looked mad, furious even. It sent a shiver down her spine, seeing someone like him in a mindset where people don’t think before they act. She began to look uneasily at her surroundings, at the fingers thick as tree trunks and taller than her entire being. What were those fingers capable of when the person attached to them was tested? What could the rest of the person be capable of?

She couldn’t stop a small whimper from escaping her. Garret’s eyes, now looking ice cold rather than just blue, flicked over to her and they immediately melted. His mouth dropped from a sneer to a contemplative frown as his eyes fixed on her.

“I-I think I should go,” she murmured, not wanting to spend any more time around these two arguing, “Would… would you… you know”

He nodded, “Oh, right.” Cecilia jumped slightly as Garret turned and began to slowly kneel down. He placed his hand flat upon the ground and she hopped down onto the pavement.

“T-thanks again, for lunch.”

“Yeah, I’ll… I’ll text you, once I'm done dealing with all of this” he nodded over at the flattened car.

Cecilia nodded as she turned and began to hurry away, the yelling of the man starting up again the moment she’d left.

Her home as a child used to have this very vibrant wallpaper in the living room. It was covered in all sorts of different kinds of butterflies, and Cecilia had very vivid memories of almost everyday after school staring up at them all to pass the time. Her mother would be close by, sitting at the kitchen table with the phone in her lap while she stared out the window looking out into the front yard.

There were hundreds of this day in her memory. At times, they all blended together. Some days she’d ask what was for dinner, often not getting a response. Other days she’d sit and do homework at the same table as her mother yet they exchanged no words. Sometimes she’d ask if she wanted to do something, bake, or go to the park, but her mother almost always said no.

A lot of the time, however, she’d be stuck doing exactly what her mother was doing, waiting.

It was either the phone or the door that broke the silence. Cecilia preferred it when it was the door. She’d lift her head off the couch to see her dad shuffling in, army duffle bag in tow. Her mother would finally move as she turned and smiled up at her husband who would lane down to kiss her, occasionally asking what their daughter was still doing up.

She would run to her father and wrap her arms around his waist. He’d pat her on the back and ruffle her hair. Sometimes they’d all sit down on the couch, and he would tell them stories. Stories from his travels. Stories about-

“Cece!”

“Huh?” Cecilia looked up and across from her where Maddie was seated.

“Are you even listening?”

“I… yes.”

She crossed her arms and raised a well-manicured brow, “Then what did I just say?”

“Um…” she looked over helplessly at Rebecca who was sitting right beside her with her iguana, Enoch draped over her shoulder.

She sighed, “Jennifer got the job.”

“Huh?”

“We don’t like Jennifer.”

“Why?”

Rebecca glanced over at Maddie, “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Because she had the audacity to show up to the party after the whole thing with her and Kyle!”

Cecilia blinked, “Whose Kyle again?”

“Her ex” whispered Rebecca.

“Oh. wow, the audacity,” she replied flatly.

Maddie threw up her hands, “I know! And then she’s all like…”

Cecilia began to tune out once again as Maddie continued to rant. A part of her sort of enjoyed listening to her drama, even though half the time she had no idea what she was talking about. Today however, she just couldn’t seem to keep her mind from wandering.

It was no surprise to her that the day right after the whole cafe incident, Rebecca had called her and insisted they all get together. They did this quite often, usually all gathering at Rebecca’s place since it was the nicest and her friend was insistent that she couldn’t just leave Enoch for any longer than she already had when at work.

Often these little get-togethers were when they could talk outside the cafe. Away from the prying eyes and ears of anyone else.

“Here” Rebecca got up and held Enoch out to her, “I gotta go check on the pizza.”

She nodded as the iguana was thrusted into her arms and Rebecca hurried off to the kitchen. Cecilia sat frozen as the bright green lizard clawed its way up onto her shoulder. Enoch had always been friendly, but she was still always nervous that he would one day try to rip her ear off.

“So… what are we watching?” called Maddie over her shoulder.

“I was thinking Grease.”

She snorted with laughter, “Has it been too long since you’ve seen your darling John Travolta?”

“Shut up”

Maddie held up her hands, “Hey, I’m not complaining. I like tall, dark, and handsome bad boys too.” she smirked over at Cecilia, “And I think Cece does too if you know what I mean.”

Cecilia shrunk away, “W-what do you mean?”

Rebecca rounded on them “If you’re implying that guy Garret looks like John-”

“Oh come on! You can’t tell me you see it just a little bit” whined Maddie.

Cecilia felt herself trying to sink deeper and deeper into the couch. She knew it wouldn’t be long before one of them would bring… him up.

“So everybody with black hair looks that way to you?”

“Black hair and blue eyes,” she corrected.

Rebecca scoffed, “If anyone we know is an accurate comparison, It's Xander.”

Maddie rolled her eyes, “Yeah if Travolta forgot the gym existed.” Cecilia couldn’t help but giggle at that.

“You’re just jealous I’ve got myself a man like him” Rebecca stated matter-of-factly, “Anyways, pizza’s ready.” She stepped back into the living room, setting down the large pepperoni and mushroom pizza before turning around to grab them some plates and napkins.

Cecilia handed Enoch back to Rebecca as she sat down, his claws pricking tiny holes in her sweater. She grabbed a slice and began picking off the pieces of mushroom.

“Maddie” groaned Rebecca, “Can you please be an adult and use a plate?”

Maddie paused mid-bite, her slice gripped tightly in her hand, “What’s wrong? And what about Cece? What’s more childish than picking off the vegetables?”

She paused, glancing up at the two, “What? I don’t like vegetables.”

“Well, she’s still keeping everything on the plate where it doesn’t run the risk of getting sauce all over my couch.”

Maddie rolled her eyes as she snatched a plate off of the coffee table, “Since when are you a neat freak?”

“Can we start the movie now?” asked Cecilia.

Around two hours later, once the credits had begun to roll, Cecilia got up and started to clear their plates and napkins. Rebecca was currently preoccupied with cooing at Enoch and letting him eat bits off her slice.

Maddie eyed them with a slight air of concern, “Are you sure you should be feeding him that?”

Rebecca ignored her, continuing to snuggle up with her scaly pet.

Cecilia shook her head and smiled, “She’s fed him things like ice cream and donuts. I think he can handle a bit of cheese and marinara sauce.”

Her friend shrugged it off as she got up from her seat, “I brought a bottle of red with me if any of you want some.”

“I’ll have a glass” Rebecca got up and followed Maddie over to the kitchen, “You want any?”

“No thanks,” said Cecilia.

After her two friends had each poured themselves a glass, they plopped themselves back down on the couch.

“So…” started Rebecca, “Gone out with anybody recently Maddie?”

“No, can’t say I have” both of them kept not so secretly glancing over at Cecilia, “Everything going good with Xander?”

“Yup, going alright.”

They both turned to their friend who was very slowly turning a shade of pink. Oh boy.

“So… a giant,” said Maddie.

“Heh, yeah,” she mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

“How has that been?”

“ Uh well, like I said… interesting.”

“I would imagine so.” Maddie leaned back, “You know, I’m honestly quite impressed.”

“Impressed?”

“Well, I’m just wondering what the hell you said or did to bag that guy.” Cecilia’s face went from slightly pink to beet red.

Rebecca nearly choked on her wine, “Maddie!”

“What?! It’s a reasonable question.”

“They barely have seen each other!”

“How would you know? What, you’ve been backseating all their dates without telling me?”

Cecilia covered her face with her hands and groaned, “It’s not official or anything like that, guys. Like I said, I don’t even know what it is.”

“Well, why don’t you tell us more?”

A smirk appeared on Maddie’s face, “tell me more, tell me more,“ she began to sing.

“Guys-”

Rebecca joined in “Tell me more, tell me more.” she scooted closer while Maddie got up and sat down on Cecilia’s other side, “tell me more, tell me more.”

She sighed, “Will you guys stop singing if I do?” They promptly stopped and nodded, leaning in closer, “What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” said Maddie.

“How has he been so far?” asked Rebecca.

She shrugged, “Well, like I said, nice. Very nice actually.”

“Uh-huh, and what do you mean by that? Because someone not being mean to you doesn’t count as being nice.”

“He’s just been… very nice.”

“Is he the reason for the broken glass bottles I found when I opened the day after your first date?” shot Maddie.

Cecilia’s cheeks flushed, “Uh yeah. Sorry, I forgot to clean those-”

“What was dinner like? What did he-”

“Quiet.” Rebecca scolded before turning back to Cecilia, “You’re being careful right? Is he being careful? Like, he hasn’t put you in any danger?”

“Rebecca, come on. There’s always an amount of danger when dealing with those skyscrapers.” continued Maddie, “And why-”

“Because, and I don’t mean to be judgemental, but he doesn’t seem… particularly… you know… experienced in taking precaution.”

Cecilia gulped, “He… he did say he hadn’t spent much time around humans” She looked down at her feet, “But… I think he’s trying. I still don’t know what to make of this.” she sighed, “And… and I feel bad th-that I’m still…”

“Afraid?”

she nodded.

Maddie tilted her head, “I mean, I haven’t known you as long as Rebecca has, but I’ve seen how you’ve reacted to giants in the past. Hell, remember when you nearly fainted when that group of teenagers started ruff housing in the parking lot? Sean had to coax you out from the back.” she waved her hand at her, “But just a little bit ago, I saw you voluntarily stepping into a giant’s hand. Sure you looked like you were going to faint at any second, but you still did it, and I’d say that’s pretty impressive for you.”

“And I think you have every reason to be afraid. Like Maddie said, there is always a sense of danger around giants. But even putting that aside, there’s still the fact that we have no idea what his motive is.”

Cecilia cocked her head, “Motive?”

“Yeah, like why the hell would a giant want to be with a human in the first place.”

Rebecca patted Cecilia on the shoulder, “It’s not that we think someone wouldn't want to date you. I just feel it’s a bit… odd.” That's the understatement of the century, “And again, this is nothing against you, but I just find it hard seeing a giant finding a human attractive.”

Her eyes fell back to the floor. That had been something that had been in the back of her mind as well. Lately, whenever she passed by a mirror or saw her reflection, it always just made her more confused. She wasn’t hideous, but in no way was she pretty enough for someone like Garret to want to be around her rather than with… someone more like him.

A loud ding filled the room. Rebecca pulled out her phone and groaned, “Damn it Xander.” her face was illuminated as she opened her phone and began to type.

“What is it?” asked Maddie.

“Oh nothing. Xander says he’s just feeling sad and wants me to send him a pic or something.”

Maddie glanced over at Cecilia, rolling her eyes. Both of them knew by now what Xander meant when he said ‘pic’, “Well, tell him that you’re busy.”

“I just did.” Rebecca set her phone down and turned her attention right back onto Cecilia, “So… I know you said you’re still not sure what to make of this, but has Garret said what he makes of it?”

She shrugged, “I mean… when he asked me to join him to grab lunch, he called it a date.”

“And that night,” said Maddie, “Did he see that has a date as well?”

“I-I guess so.”

“Did you see it as a date?”

She froze, her cheeks heating up, “I uh… maybe not in the moment, but looking back, I think so.”

“How the hell would that even work?” Maddie chuckled, “I mean, it’s not like he can score any sex out of-”

“Maddie!” yelped Rebecca. Cecilia went beet red, going to hide her face in her hands.

“What?”

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate thing to bring up right now.”

“Oh come on, you had to be thinking about it too, right Cece?”

“Not necessarily no” she mumbled.

“Well, I certainly would if I was in your place. You’re wondering what his motive is, and that’s been the motive of most of the douchebags I’ve gone out with. I’m just helping eliminate possibilities.”

Cecilia groaned, I wish Sean were here right now, why did Jaffery have to change their date night to the day before? “Can we please stop talking about this and go on to you guys asking more normal questions?”

“This isn’t a normal situation.”

“Can we at least pretend it is?!”

The room fell silent. Cecilia’s hands fell away from her face. Maddie and Rebecca both were staring at her, perplexed.

“Please?” she murmured.

This whole thing, everything since that night at the cafe, had left her mind reeling. She didn’t even want to begin laying out everything in her mind, it was too much. Too many questions without answers. Too many new and unexpected experiences. She just wasn’t ready to sit down and analyze it all, especially with an audience.

She jumped when she felt an arm wrap around her. Rebecca patted her shoulder, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… to get up all in your business.” she whipped her head around to look at Maddie.

“Yeah, sorry I guess. This is just so-”

“This all must be a lot for you, and if talking about it doesn’t help, then we won’t.”

Cecilia looked her friend in the eye, and smiled, “Thank you.”

Rebecca gave her shoulders a squeeze, “But we are still curious. Can we still hear about your first date or whatever it was? Like when Sean told us about meeting Jaffery?”

She let out a short chuckle, “Yeah, I guess.”

Maddie leaned in closer, “Oh yes, tell us everything!” Rebecca shot her a look. She groaned, “Or whatever you feel like sharing I guess.”

Quick shout out to @ipilokko whose when helping me brainstorm ideas and as a whole helping me by being that second oppinion. You should totally go check out her comic, the artwork is quite impressive!

#g/t #g/t writing #gianttiny #romance #orginal story

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literallykenmaandshoyo · 2 years ago

Text

I'll Know

Tendou Satori x Female!Reader

Warnings: Language, outdoor blowjob, creampie, cum swallowing, oral (male and female receiving), lots and lots of praise!! I wrote Satori as reader's first intimate partner! Just smutty smut smut smut lolol

Word Count: 3.3k

Author's note: Oh my god, it's been so so long since I've posted a fic on here this is insane. College and life have been so so hectic and I completely forgot about the page Mod Kenma and I made :,) Mod Kenma is so good with keeping consistent and everything on here and I'm going to try and do the same since I've found myself writing with them a lot more now! I'm so sorry for the long hiatus, but I wrote this fic a couple of weeks ago and thought it would be a nice way to start my comeback! I hope you all know that you're more than welcome to request anything from me, just make sure you specify that you want it written by me haha! I hope you enjoy the smut, I had so much fun writing it!!

I'd love to hear everyone's feedback on this, so don't hesitate to let me know on how I can make things better or if you enjoyed it!

~Mod Shoyo <3

The bright lights of Shiratorizawa’s gym hurt Y/N’s eyes as she walked inside. Today, the volleyball club was going to be hosting a late night practice. Normally, Friday nights were reserved for date nights between Y/N and Satori, but she never ever minded coming to watch Tendou practice. There was no hiding how she really felt about watching him practice.

It got her going.

Something about her tall, lanky boyfriend sweating his ass off playing sports just did something to her. She was well aware of this feeling and found it slightly funny every time Satori tried to push practice to the side for her. “Now, why would you do that, ‘Tori? Volleyball is your passion. I really don’t mind staying for a couple hours to watch you and then getting to hang out with you after!”

Tendou always appreciated Y/N so much more when she said things like that. Little did he know that he was only fueling her drive to chase him. To jump his bones the second that he was finished with his practice. Tonight was no different. Y/N came waltzing into the gym in her black t-shirt dress, her eyes darting across every single body she saw to search for her boyfriend. The second that Tendou noticed her, his posture stiffened and he made a bee-line straight towards her.

“Well, look at you in that black dress of yours,” Tendou flirted, his tone light and playful but his voice was resting in a deeper part of his throat. “Don’t you look delicious.”

Y/N blushed and stood on her tippy toes to kiss him. He smirked against her kiss and brought his right arm around her waist to pull her close to him while his other arm carried his water bottle. The second they pulled away, she could already feel herself getting riled up. His normally spiked up hair was sitting slightly damp now. Most of it was still intact, but some of the front strands were sticking to his forehead, absolutely drenched in sweat.

“How’s practice going, baby?” Y/N smiled, her eyes too focused on his sweat than his actual ruby orbs.

“Coach had us do some punishments because Goshiki didn’t receive a ball correctly,” Tendou tossed a look over to Goshiki who was cowering in a corner, gripping a ball tightly in between his hands cursing himself. “Other than that, It’s going pretty average.”

Y/N smiled and nodded her head. “Well, go knock ‘em dead baby, I’ll be right here watching!”

Tendou grinned from ear to ear and stooped down to press one last kiss to her lips. As Tendou turned on his heel to start running back, Y/N leaned forward and laid a harsh slap on his ass to motivate him. Tendou turned slowly with a smirk and walked back towards her. He towered over her like a skyscraper, looking down on her with the most shit-eating grin she’d ever seen.

“My turn.”

Before she had any time to think, Satori's hand was unleashing the most pain-inducing, heartstopping, panty dropping slap on her ass. She yelped and listened to the sound echo throughout the gym. His palm remained on her right cheek, she could feel his fingers curl up and feel around. He jumped slightly, then leaned down to get his lips right next to her ear.

“You dirty girl,” He whispered huskily. His voice sent shivers down her spine and she could feel the heat between her legs growing. “No panties huh? And were you thinking about telling me?” Y/N gulped and turned to the side slightly.

“It was supposed to be a surprise after practice.”

Tendou hummed. He turned on his heel once more and walked away. His shoes squeaking against the gym floor slowly dissipating gave her the ‘okay’ to finally relax. Y/N made her way over to one of the courtside benches and took a seat. With her legs crossed, she let her eyes linger on her red-head boyfriend.

The middle blocker was working overtime tonight. His guesses were on point, every single possible hunch he could have had about a spiker’s decisions were completely right. She could only imagine the type of psycho-analysis that was going on in his head right now, how meticulous he had to be in order to block everyone on the other side of the net.

She was wrong.

Tendou was on his game because he knew that she was watching him. He could feel her eyes lingering on him, only paying attention to his movements and no one else’s. Who was she, to sit on that damn bench with no panties on in front of all of his teammates. He could only imagine the juices that were marinating in her cunt right now, he was salivating at the thought of it. His hunger was only fueling his movements, a snide smirk resting on his face.

One of the managers rushed around giving all of the players’ some towels to wipe themselves off. Once Tendou was handed his own, he turned slightly and noticed Y/N had taken some extra interest in watching him. He scoffed and pressed the towel against his forehead and neck, wiping off all the remnants of his hard work. Y/N licked her lips and didn’t let her gaze falter for a second. Tendou’s legs carried him over towards his girlfriend once more. His aura was radiating pure starvation. He couldn’t even keep eye contact with her for more than a millisecond before letting his eyes drop down to her crossed legs. He could feel himself get hard just knowing that he was the only one that got to spread those legs. To see what was beyond her gorgeous thighs.

He tossed the towel at her nonchalantly. “Hold this for me, would you baby? Just a little while longer.”

Y/N was quick to catch the towel and let it rest in her lap. She could feel herself getting warmer, at this point she started to regret not wearing underwear. She knew that she was going to spill the juices that Satori claimed as his all over the floor once she stood up, but for right now. At this very moment. She could care less. Her mind was turning into mush, and it didn’t help that Tendou would toss her looks in between practice sets.

Her pussy was aching. Tendou had been her very first intimate partner, and she loved the idea that her pussy was molded into a hole that fit his dick perfectly. She was growing more restless by the second, counting down each second that went by that Tendou wasn’t rearranging her intestines. Finally, like a bright light shining down from the heavens, practice was called to an end and everyone started to pack up the equipment and their things. Once everyone was finally done with their chores, Tendou slowly made his way back to his girlfriend.

“Can I see that towel in your lap, pretty girl?” Tendou grinned, holding his hand out in front of her. She nodded and dropped the towel into his palm. “Thank you darling~”

As Tendou wiped his face again, Y/N was fuming. Her entire body was quivering with nothing short of pure lust for Satori. And the worst part of it all, was she knew that he was teasing her. He was dragging his feet when he walked, he was taking his time to get each individual bead of sweat off of his face, he knew that she was dying for his touch.

“Alright baby, let’s go. Are you ready?” Y/N didn’t give him any time to change his mind. She was off the bench and ready to go with her purse at the sound of his voice.

Tendou chuckled and draped an arm loosely around her shoulders, pulling her close to him as he slung his duffel bag over his left shoulder. They had finally made it outside the gym. Sure, they only took one step outside, but Y/N was practically dizzy with how much fresh air was hitting her face right now. Before they could walk any further, Tendou stopped them both in their tracks.

“Oops! I forgot my jacket on the bench, I’ll be right back love,”

Y/N was fed up. She was seething, begging to be touched and he kept setting them back. She looked to her left and noticed a corner that the lights weren’t hitting. She moved into the shadows and waited patiently for Tendou’s figure to walk out the door. After watching most of his teammates leave with their bags and set off on their journey’s back home, Y/N was ready to get what she wanted.

The second she could smell his after-practice musk, she grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him into the corner with her. Tendou looked down at her with a cocky smirk and raised an eyebrow. “And what’s this about?” She looked up into his fiery ruby orbs and made no sound.

Her fingers grabbed hold of the band of his practice shorts and looped a finger into the band of his briefs before using all the strength she had to yank them down his legs. His cock sprung to life before her very eyes and she found some sort of relief in knowing that he was just as worked up as she was. She licked her lips and nearly drooled at his feet just at the mere sight. His tip was swollen, his shaft curved upwards, it was a gorgeous sight to see. Tendou gulped before finally speaking.

“Suck it.”

Y/N had already gathered up all the spit she could in her mouth. She spat onto his cock and didn’t even bother to start to stroke him. She took his entire dick in her mouth and felt his tip hit the back of her mouth. She had no strength to push her legs together anymore and slowly just let them spread apart. Her knees were starting to burn from the small rocks and pebbles that had littered the sidewalk, but she was too busy drowning in her horniness to care. The guttural groan that left Tendou’s mouth as she deep throated him was enough to send her over the edge. Her head was bobbing up and down his shaft, her lips gliding across his drenched cock.

“Fu-fuck baby. Take this cock like a good girl,” Tendou sighed heavily. “Fuck, you suck me off so good baby.”

The words of encouragement egged her on, pushing her to grip whatever wasn’t covered by her mouth with her hands and begin to stroke while she sucked. Tendou nearly banged his head into the wall from the immense pleasure that took over him. He was trying so hard not to cum down her throat as fast as he wanted to. Y/N knew that he was holding himself back, but she didn’t bother to berate him or tease him for it. What mattered was that she had his cock in her mouth and she was going to swallow every last drop of cum he had to offer.

She could feel him twitch in her mouth, every vein that was ready to burst getting eased with the coolness of her saliva. She deep throated once more and felt some pre-cum slide down her tongue. She pulled her mouth off of his dick, still stroking him with one hand while she popped his cleanly shaven balls in her mouth. Tendou clamped a hand over his mouth to try and prevent the loud groan that fell from his lips; even covered by his hand his moan was loud enough to get some stares.

Y/N moved back up to eye-level with his cock and spread her hot mouth all over it once more. She bobbed her head as fast as she could, feeling his dick twitch faster than before. It wasn’t until Tendou’s sweet groan entered her ears that she realized he had painted the back of her throat with his cum. She pulled herself off of his dick for the last time, snot falling from her nose, tears falling from her damp eyelashes and down her swollen cheeks.

Tendou looked down and moved her loose hair out of her face, watching her tongue fall out of her mouth still covered in his cum. Within a second, she swallowed whatever of his load was leftover in her mouth and let her body slump. Tendou noticed her relaxed nature and immediately lifted her up into his arms.

“Don’t think this is over. I’m going to fuck the shit out of you when we get back to my dorm.” Y/N laid in his arms completely lifeless, her mind still only focused on the pleasure she had given her boyfriend just now.

She had no concept of time, or even realized how much time she had taken to suck him off outside of the gym, but none of it mattered. It wasn’t until he threw her onto his bed that she snapped back to reality. Her hair was a mess, her face was flushed with a red color, her legs could barely stay closed. Tendou was huffing, heavily breathing as he threw his shirt over his head and tugged his boxers down once more. He didn’t bother to take Y/N’s dress off. What was the point if he had easy access anyways?

“I’m going to fuck the shit out of this pussy,” Tendou growled, pressing lazy kisses to the sides of her neck. “My pussy.”

Y/N’s ears were ringing. The second she felt his lips on her neck her entire body went into shock. She felt so sensitive, anywhere he touched immediately made her quiver. She wanted to take every piece of clothing off of her, she felt like she was roasting in 100 degree summer heat. Tendou’s long, slender fingers wrapped around her knees and yanked her legs apart. His eyes widened and he stared at her glistening pussy like it was a gift given to him by god. And it was. Tendou licked his lips and fell to his knees. He gripped the backs of her legs and pulled her to the edge of his bed, her pussy right in his face.

He wasted no time in diving his tongue in between her folds. The tip of his tongue flicked her clit before gathering up some of her wetness like a spoon. He was eating her up like a starved man, smacking his lips and burying his face in her. Her noises were enough to wake up every single member of his team in the building, but that was the least of his worries. He had a cunt, shining with pure excitement under the lights right in front of him, and it was all his. His dick was so painfully hard and he wanted nothing more than to just slam it inside of her, but she was dying to suck him off, and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t dying to feast on her pussy.

“Te-Tendou, please,” Y/N whined. “Please just fuck me, I-I can’t take it anymore.” Her words stopped his actions. She whined from the loss of friction and his swift motions.

He stood up and wiped his mouth of whatever juices she left on his lips. He had never heard anything more sexy than her pleads for him to fuck her in all his life. He smiled from ear to ear and came down to press his lips onto hers. “Whatever you want, baby. Your wish is my command.”

Tendou lined himself up with her entrance. He slowly started to push his tip into her. Once just his tip had been swallowed by her cunt, he grabbed hold of her hips tightly and bucked his hips so hard into hers that she nearly screamed. The harsh slap of his balls slapping against her skin made a clapping noise, and he started to pound into her like his life depended on it. The sound of her loud moans only fueled him to keep drilling his cock into her. He leaned down and buried his face in her chest, loving the feeling of her tits bouncing in his face. He pulled himself out of her and lifted her into his arms. He sat down on the edge of his bed and sat her on his lap. Y/N got the picture and quickly slammed herself onto his dick.

“God damn, Y/N. Ride this dick, take this dick like a good girl.”

Y/N sank her teeth into his shoulder as she bounced up and down on his cock. She could feel the coil in her stomach slowly unraveling with every slap their sweaty bodies made. She pulled her face out of his neck to see that his eyebrows were furrowed, the groans leaving his mouth nearly making her cream on their own. Tendou grabbed a fistful of her hair into a makeshift ponytail and held it up for her, the breeze that hit her neck sending goosebumps down her hot skin.

Tendou could feel that she had gotten tired of picking herself up, his hands moved down to her hips and gripped them so hard that she was sure his fingers would be bruised into her skin. He held her up and thrusted as fast as he could, his balls slapping against the bottom of her ass with every move. Y/N dug her nails into his back, sure that she drew blood with how hard she was holding him.

She lowered herself back down onto him once more and simply served as a hole for him to fuck himself with. He moved her at his own tempo, lifting her body up and down his cock with the strength he had. Her legs quivered and she could feel herself getting close.

“To- Tori, I’m gonna,” She couldn’t even finish her sentence before it was drowned out with the harmonious sounds of their moans joining together.

“Let it go love, cream all over this cock for me.” Tendou practically yelled through clenched teeth.

Within seconds, both of their moans joined together once more for a grand finale. Y/N’s body fell limp, her bare chest resting on top of his. Tendou was still twitching inside of her, his hands coming up to caress her back lovingly. After a few minutes that way, Y/N finally sat up to pull herself off of his dick. The sight she was met with nearly made her want him to fuck her again, but she was far too tired.

Satori’s ruby eyes focused on her pussy as she pulled herself off. Strands of their combined cum looked like strings holding their two bodies together. Y/N relaxed and Tendou could see a cluster of his cum slide out of her pussy and down the sides of her legs.

Tendou reached into his drawer and grabbed some cool wet wipes to clean themselves off, he handled his lover with such care, feeling her jump every time he brought the wipe anywhere near her still sensitive pussy. Tendou moved every article of clothing that sat on top of his covers off and threw it somewhere into the corner of the room. He grabbed Y/N’s waist and pulled her next to him, helping her get under the covers and into his arms.

“That’s probably the best sex we have ever had.”

Y/N nodded, barely able to catch her breath. “I feel so much better now,”

Tendou just chuckled and pressed his lips lazily against her own. “I love you baby, with all of my heart. Thank you for always being so devoted to pleasuring me.”

She smiled and pressed a kiss against his lips before nuzzling into his neck. “I love you Satori,”

The two of them yawned, falling asleep within seconds. Satori felt his entire body finally truly relax, and knowing that she would be here in his arms in the morning made his sleep that much better.

He thought to himself that maybe every date night should end like this, but he knew he would never hear the end of that conversation.

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tarjapearce · 1 year ago

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Hey, I wanna say i really really like the way you write fics. It feels??? Natural?? To read it?? Always an adventure everytime I read a fic of yours.

How do you write so good?? I'm a writer as well and I'd love to hear your tips and tricks ^^

First of all, I wanna thank you for liking the crap stuff I write. (Cause I'm genuinely amazed some times that people just like it and I'm not saying this because.)

⚠️⚠️LONG AND POSSIBLE CONTROVERSIAL ANSWER AHEAD ⚠️⚠️

It's kinda funny, ngl. Lemme tell you something, I don't know if you guys struggle with Impostor Syndrome a lot like me, but everytime someone gives a compliment like this my brain just goes into self sabotaging mode.

In the outside its :

But in the inside, my brain immediately goes:

Cause I'm aware that I can do better. (And we will ~) it's weird. I'm always striving to do better.

As for the tips and tricks, I'm surely not the right person to ask advice from 😅, but Imma just tell you this from what I experience and from my perspective (Hopefully won't get backlash from this, if not, R. I. P. me jsksj) Be warned though, it's kinda contradictory cause writing is hard yo!

1. You gotta read. Either books or whatever your favorite genre is, but you gotta read. I consume fan fics and non fanfics cause you learn from other people too. I read fanfics mostly to know new words, how the character develops and the like.

I read more spanish stuff than anything. Which I try to transfer to what I write.

2. I try to keep it as simple as possible. With that I mean to not over embellish words cause it gets boring and weird. Sure, everyone wants to make their fanfics pretty (nothing wrong in that) but sometimes I feel that less is more. Like, nothing wrong if you wanna poet the f- out of your fic. (THIS IS A DOUBLE EDGED ONE SO BE CAREFUL!!)

I mean there is a huge difference in reading:

"The anger and frustration on her way of living was taking a toll on her mind"

and:

"Her nemesism had muddled her mind into an endless spiral of what ifs and what not, and frankly if her mind could speak, it'd beg for a break."

It's hard to pick one style, but as long as you keep it consistent, I guess it's all good (?) (Funny cause I always aim for the second one and end up in the first jsksj and I dont even know myself if I'm keeping it consistent)

3. Get yourself a beta reader that doesn't coddle you. It helps alot!!!! Cause again, compliments sure are nice, but they don't tell you where you could get better. ✨( Unless the reader provides puntual feedback on what they liked and what not. Those are my favorites and a rare gem ❤️)

4. I know this one is hard because everyone at some point have done this. But IF YOU COMPARE yourself to other writers? You'll lose yourself. Not only you'll lose motivation cause you seem unable to write like them, but you will fall into this... vicious circle of self deprecating and burnout. And the self doubt sky rockets nonstop.

Everyone is different. Everyone learns in a different pace. Trust me, I wanted to make great stories with a good looking writing when I had the slightest idea of what I was doing (Still do!) 😂. Writing fanfics is not a competition to who writes more beautiful/good/professional than others. Or who has more notes or the most canon-stuck character, or the cause let's face it, none will get a character's personality to a 100%!!! (And that's ok cause it's fanfiction and we all have a different approach to the character either emotional or mental) .

Personally for me, the cockyest thing someone can do is to claim to know a character more than the creators themselves. Kinda rude for me, if you ask . Like, sure feeling a deep connection with a character doesn't mean it'll grant us instant access to their whole self. Characters just like us evolve. Either for the good or the bad, but they don't remain the same, so knowing them completely is a big fat lie. Unless stated by the creator. (But we're delusional in this site, so~)

I mean, sure characterization is something we all struggle since we guide ourselves by some of the character's most prominent traits and make them their default personality. (I've sinned in this jsksj so don't worry)

5. HAVE FUN AND TAKE BREAKS. I mean it. The favorite things I've written is where Im genuinely having fun writing it. But also after a well deserved rest. Cause if something doesn't feel right, it won't be right. And burnout is easier to get at than we actually think.

6. I recently started to follow writing advice blogs, one of my favorite @heywriters.

@she-who-fights-and-writes. (They have amazing writing resources, so does Pinterest and YouTube. Seize them!!!)

But yeah, I'm still an amateur on this, I make emphasis in the 5th one tho.

Hope this helps you? ;w;.

Love you❤️✨

Thanks for stopping by. ❤️

#talking with t✨#personal takes #thoughts on my writing

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collegetennisoriginstory · 1 year ago

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I wanted to throw in my opinion on the Trans MC if you want it! Option 3 would be a lot of extra writing and coding, so I get that it wouldn't be a decision made lightly and it would be added pressure to get it right and it's a sensitive topic for sure. I will say that if you chose to go this route tho, it would make a huge difference and mean a lot to us. I'm a trans athlete, and the lack of representation can be really discouraging. It's time like these where we are receiving so much hate, especially when it comes to sports, that allies could really step up and make a difference. Reading can really open people's minds! It may be difficult and uncomfortable, and take extra work, but that's our everyday tbh. We out here living on hard mode 😂 that's just my thoughts on the matter but I will respect you and read your story either way. Much love 🏳️‍⚧️♥️

Hey! Thank you so much for sending this! This gets long, forgive my wordiness.

First off, I really feel your statement to the bone, the part about how allies could step up and make a difference, and how positive rep in media, games etc. is insanely important.

So many stories, TV shows, movies have shaped my experience of being queer and POC, and while some of them have been nice just so I could see someone like myself being represented, the ones that really made an impact are of course the ones where these identities were explored in a sensitive, thoughtful way. (When I watched Saving Face for the first time at 17, about a queer Chinese American doctor, I bawled my eyes out and dont think I've been the same since).

I would absolutely love if CT:OS/my IFs could do this for trans athletes too.

I've seen/heard so many worrying statements about trans athletes (both in real life and in the media)—and it makes me so sad.

Some that really get me really riled up are: The idea that a trans athlete's accomplishments mean nothing because they "have an unfair advantage" (or putting it down to "just hormones" or whatever instead of recognizing the hardwork, skill, and dedication behind EVERY successul athlete, trans or not). Or the idea that trans athletes shouldn't get to choose to be trans if they want to be athletes. Or the idea of policing trans athletes' bodies or forcing them to undergo surgery in order for them to be "valid"...

Well, FUCK THAT. FUCK those people.

If my IF can help celebrate trans athletes, and combat/shut down the really harmful (and ignorant) rhetoric out there? I'd love to do that.

But since I am not trans myself, it feels doubly, triply important that I wade really carefully here. I'd really need to spend time making sure I like and can stand behind what I'm putting out. I don't think it'd be responsible representation, otherwise!

I'm not really a perfectionist about my writing and that's how I make progress on my IFs while working a full time job. I'm more the... "slap shit tgt, get it out there, get feedback and edit if I feel like it" kind of writer. And I don't think I'd be able to finish CT:OS / Merry Crisis any other way. But when it comes to race, gender, and sexual identity? I really. Really. Wanna get things right.

(I rewrote that Rayyan convo about being a POC athlete with Deepal so many times haha and it was already marginally less scary, since I am a POC athlete.)

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I agree it's so goddamn important to have trans stories, and rep, especially in sports, where views are often so toxic and polarized.

But I don't think I know yet whether I see my IF being more a simple "yay, trans rep" kind of space or an actual deeper exploration of what it means to be a trans athlete. I was quite prepared to add the option to be trans (+ any accompanying scenes etc.) when I have the complete CT:OS 1st draft, but I was also toying with the idea of just putting something imperfect into the game earlier.

Faced with indecision, I've opted for: procrastination. I am still waffling, but it was helpful to hear what you guys think. Thank you so much for your message.

Lots of love, keep being awesome ❤️

#ct:os #college tennis: origin story #if #interactive fiction #asks

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yanderes-galore · 8 months ago

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Heres the second one

Second one is a Dragon Age: Inquisition with a Yandere Verric Tethras Concept, he's the dwarven character companion

I love him cuz of his chest hair

Okay! I watched a retrospective on the series and watched character lore/analysis for Varric before writing this. Despite that things may be off, so please bear with me. Sorry it took so long :( The wiki doesn't give me his personality so I had to do some guessing. I'll take feedback as this is my first Dragon Age fic.

Yandere! Varric Tethras Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Blackmail/Deception, Some trauma, Subtle corruption via Red Lyrium, Overprotective behavior, Some Possessive behavior, Controlling behavior, Stalking, Mentioned possible kidnapping/isolation, Forced/Dubious companionship/relationship.

Varric, a dwarf and head of his family ever since his brother lost his mind... soon even becoming ruler of Kirkwall in Inquisition.

His family is primarily known for being merchants.

But they also seem (IMO) to have a mafia-like characteristic to them, as Varric always seems to have information you need and often helps his party out with obstacles.

Varric's primary weapon is a specialized crossbow named 'Bianca' and he is primarily good-hearted in nature.

Varric is also known to be a storyteller, specifically for tragedies.

He is a good friend of Hawke, which could be a way you meet him.

Or perhaps you met the dwarf in a tavern.

Either way, Varric likes to make friends with his companions.

He appreciates kind and thoughtful acts and, despite his background, is a good person.

Varric is a rogue and monitors a "spy network" in his family, which is no doubt how he gets his information.

In terms of making him yandere... here's my theory.

Perhaps we can involve Red Lyrium in some way... as Varric has some experience with it.

It wouldn't be enough to fully corrupt him... but maybe that could drive him to do more obsessive acts?

For this concept I'll say you're a companion of Hawke, someone Varric has to work with often.

As a result he naturally tries to get to know you and be your friend.

Despite the dwarf's friendly nature... he is skilled with diplomacy, lying, and blackmail.

So I feel Varric is capable of being manipulative to get what he wants.

His friendly nature may make you trust him, but you can hear distrust from other companions.

Despite this he is very loyal.

In terms of what intention he'd be more likely to have as a yandere, I'd say he may be more likely to be a platonic yandere.

I'm not saying he can't be a romantic yandere, I just believe it would take longer due to his past.

Varric is a good friend, he could also be a good partner, but I think his yandere tendencies would be from Red Lyrium exposure.

Sure, he's already capable of manipulative actions, but he wouldn't use them to get you unless he was driven by something darker.

Red Lyrium would be a perfect cause for his obsessive behavior since his story involves it.

Varric starts off very friendly and compassionate towards you.

As you travel with Varric and/or Hawke, he's always spinning some tale for you to listen to.

He is charming to listen to and is playful with the way he speaks to you.

Even before Red Lyrium alters his way of thinking he is protective and caring towards you.

You're a close friend, one he begins to trust as you two bond.

Despite his mischievous side... he isn't that bad to be around.

Although when he's around Red Lyrium more often, like in Dragon Age Inquisition, his behavior gets more corrupted.

It's not enough to completely take over... but enough to alter his feelings towards you.

This corruption may either make him a paranoid and overprotective friend who won't leave you alone...

Or make him interpret blooming romantic feelings as feelings of possession.

He isn't fully in control of such behavior, but there's times he's lucid.

I feel like Red Lyrium affecting him would make him feel guilty.

After all... he thinks of his brother.

He doesn't want to harm you, but here he is...

He's manipulating you, stalking you, blackmailing you and lying to you to get you to stay.

There's times he apologizes... although there's other times he just won't let you go, gripping your hand tightly.

Varric hates being a thug, not really wanting to use violence to make others comply.

However, as Red Lyrium makes him Overprotective/Possessive of you... he does think of just using his crossbow to remove perceived threats.

His obsession/corruption makes him paranoid.

He feels he can lose you if he isn't careful.

So in his mind he should stick by you, keep you safe... keep you his.

Even in this mindset he somewhat trusts Hawke with you... but dislikes The Inquisitor around you.

He's shown to be more jealous at times in this state to.

You want to get Varric help, or even distance yourself from him.

Yet Varric never seems to have you out of his sight.

He always seems to know everything about you.

After all... you're companions... there's no need to fear him.

Varric gets increasingly more affectionate towards you.

Hand holding, hugs... kisses if his intentions turn romantic due to his corruption.

How obsessive he is begins to scare you.

Far are you know there's no cure for the mild corruption Varric is experiencing.

So his mindset towards you may get worse and worse...

Who knows how long it will be before Varric feels the only way to keep you safe is in a cell...

A feat easier than you think once he's ruler of Kirkwall.

#yandere dragon age #yandere dragon age 2 #yandere dragon age inquisition #yandere varric tethras

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lxndonorris · 1 year ago

Text

blindfolded - Maxiel

Max Verstappen x Daniel Ricciardo Theme: Smutish, Teasing, Touching (not too explicit) Things escalate slightly after filming the simulator racing challenge between Daniel and Max (Max's POV) word count: 2040+ Editor's note: The video and this picture inspired this story, and I hope it's enjoyable! I'd appreciate it to receive some feedback since I feel it's harder to write about same-sex couples due to always using "he/him" or simply the name. Did you enjoy this? Do you have any requests? My ask box is always open!

A few clouds are hanging above the paddock when Max finds himself standing inside his motorhome, browsing his phone. A day of filming another challenge for Red Bull Racing's various social media channels is finally over, and normally Max isn't a huge fan of it all. He wants to race and do as few interviews, challenges, or videos as possible. This changed, however, when someone special reentered the Red Bull spaces. That special someone is Daniel Ricciardo. For a long time now, they have been seeing, dating, and loving each other. It was quite hard since for the last few years they were racing for different teams, but somehow it worked out fine. Daniel is always making Max laugh, and the other way around. It is so easy for Max to film videos now, to be himself more, and to actually enjoy playing stupid little games or challenges.

Max is scrolling through his phone, slightly bored, when he lets out a soft, low groan. He puts his phone down and leans his head back against the huge pillows on the sofa. Still thinking about today's challenge, he can't shake off the thoughts of what happened today. He closes his eyes and gives in to one of those thoughts about what happened before.

The challenge was getting into the simulator blindfolded, with another helping them around the track. When it was Max's turn, he put on the blindfold, and right away, he felt a little aroused. Just hearing Daniel's voice echo through his mind was enough to really get to him. It was slightly weird to get into the sim like that. Maybe it was the lack of control or being dependent on someone else. Luckily, it was Daniel who should help him. At first, it was pretty good, even though Max's thoughts were flooded with imagery of Daniel. Just hearing his voice sparked so many different pictures, but he was able to concentrate on the challenge. After all, he loves the sim so much that he could basically do it while asleep.

But then, Daniel did something to tease Max even more. "I'm gonna go on my knees, so I'm more at driver line." He said, and instantly, Max panicked slightly. 'What is he doing?', he thought to himself, and felt his whole body tensing slightly. Max sensed him right beside him, and more importantly, the faint, familiar scent of Daniel's favorite cologne reached his nostrils, sending shivers down his spine. More than a dozen different thoughts raced through his head. It felt like Daniel was about to tease him, touch him, kiss him right here, with Max unable to see anything. All of his body got stiff in anticipation, and his desire and lust grew bigger. Licking his lips, Max opened his mouth to say something, anything, but before he could respond in any way possible, Daniel leaned in to Max and whispered audibly into his ear. "And you can hear me when I talk to you like this." He said, holding back a giggle, but all of this was enough to spark another thought inside Max's head.

He already felt Daniel's hand on his body, opened his mouth, and let out a soft moan. In a second, he blushed, giggled, and turned toward Daniel's voice. They shared a quick laugh, realizing that they're actually getting filmed right now. Daniel, however, was completely aware of what he was doing and what effect he had on Max whenever he whispered into his ear. "You good, Checo?" He said, making anyone aware of how tense this small interaction had become. But this didn't stop him from teasing Max. Near the end of the challenge, he leaned in once more; this time, it was just meant for Max. "Fuck. The things I'd do to you right now." He breathed right into his ear, causing Max to hold back another, louder moan. It was quite intense, and he had trouble hiding the excitement gradually growing inside his skinny jeans, a disadvantage of tight clothing. While taking off the blindfold, Daniel placed a hand at his back, subtly stroking him while he whispered once again. "Too bad it's already over." His voice sounded so smooth and deep, as if craving more. Max just licked his lips before he said, "Just you wait, Daniel."

Still with his eyes closed, Max is getting more comfortable on the sofa. Legs spread, he breathes deeply, and subconsciously, he keeps on touching himself through his jeans. Once, then twice, his hand brushed over his length, thinking about what Daniel had said to him before. He groans quietly, adjusting himself to the pillows with his back rubbing against the sofa. Max is wearing his usual outfit: skinny jeans, a Red Bull shirt that's pretty tight, but that's how he likes it, and one of his beloved caps. His body is stiffening slightly, but he is still stroking himself lovingly.

"Enjoying ourselves, aren't we, Max?" A voice rings through the room, catching Max off-guard. His eyes jump open, and he turns his head toward the source of the noise. Of course, it's Daniel, standing between the doorframe, just closing the door silently behind him. "Huh?" Max says, unaware of his hand on his crotch, outlining his bulge with the tip of his fingers. Daniel motions toward it, causing Max to follow his gaze with his eyes. There is no denying it, and he doesn't bother to stop just for him, who's the cause of it after all. "Obviously." He hisses slightly. Daniel tilts his head, bites his lower lip, and runs a hand through his beautifully curled hair. "Feisty, aren't we?" He says this, holding back a mischievous grin. Of course, Max isn't angry with Daniel—maybe just a little bit. But to be honest, he missed messing around during PR shoots a lot.

"That's what you do to me, babé." Max raises an eyebrow and lifts his chin, looking at Daniel from underneath his cap. "Aww." Daniel says quickly and strokes his own chest once, then twice, before approaching Max. While keeping eye contact, he sits down right next to Max, who's eyeing him suspiciously. With one hand still on his crotch, Max rests his head on the other, with his fingers gently stroking his neck. Daniel lowers his head, trying his best to look into Max's eyes, but he's using that cap as a shield. Something he'd always do to stay comfortable because it grants him self-confidence. Daniel is aware of that, but he knows how to play around it. "The challenge was fun, wasn't it?" He smiles deviously, leaning in to Max again, who's lifting his head just enough for him to get a glimpse of his beautiful, bright eyes.

A coy smile spreads across Max's lips; he's acting shyer than usual. "It really was." He says it and feels his body getting into it right away, with his hand still stroking himself mindlessly. Getting even closer, Daniel's mouth is right next to Max's ear, and he feels his hot breath against his skin. "I meant what I said." He exhales deeply, sending shivers through Max's entire body. Immediately, his whole body is drawn into it, with all of his muscles and every fiber of his body tensing in anticipation. "What...." Max's voice breaks slightly, sounding even rougher than before. "What would you do?" He says this, and he is barely able to keep eye contact, so he focuses on Daniel's chest, his shoulder, arms, and hands instead. One of his hands moves to his own chest, stroking himself again through his jacket. "I'll tell you." He breathes deeply again. "But first, put this on." Daniel smirks, pulling the blindfold out of his pocket, and at first Max hesitates, but with a sly smile, he puts it on himself.

With his vision blocked now, he's ready to give in to his boyfriend. To calm himself down, however, he keeps on stroking himself. One hand is still on his crotch; the other is running across his own chest. "Fuuck." Max exhales deeply, followed by a quick chuckle. "I'm kind of nervous." He says, his whole body humming quietly. "It's fine. It's just me now." Daniel says it softly, his mouth right next to Max's ear. "May we start?" He asks, and Max nods slowly. "Alright." Daniel says, and by the tone of his voice, Max knows he must be smirking. This causes his heartbeat to accelerate faster than any car he has driven before. All of him is craving more, and he is unable to hide it. His muscles are bulging against the fabric of his tight shirt and jeans, with his desire visibly imprinting through their fabric. So many things are ringing through his mind in what feels like a nanosecond. But then it stops when he feels a hand on his chest. "I'd start by touching you, just the way you like it." Daniel's voice is so deep now, so soft, with his hand now touching his chest and his pecs through his shirt.

Right away, Max can't help but moan under a deep sigh. "So good." He exhales, and it turns into a soft chuckle again. Enjoying this feeling, he embraces that hand, which encompasses his upper chest, with the tip of the fingers brushing over his hardening nipples. Those hands know their way around his body, making sure to hit every sweet spot perfectly. Another hand joins his chest, making it even harder for Max to stay focused. "Enjoying that?" Daniel whispers, increasing the intensity of his strokes just slightly so as not to overwhelm Max just now. "So muuuch." Another moan escapes Max's lips, and his own hand follows Daniel's movements. "Good." Daniel smirks again. "How does that feel?" Max feels one of those hands now on his neck, tracing his firm jawline with the thumb and his soft lips with the tip of his fingers.

"Mhmmm." Max, unable to speak, purrs contently. He leans his head back before melting into that loving touch. At the same time, the other hand is running down his chest before slipping underneath his shirt. At first, Max flinches due to the cold hand, but it doesn't take long for him to embrace it as well. "Yeah, that's it." Daniel breathes deeply as his boyfriend purrs more and more. Max's entire body is now vibrating rhythmically as Daniel's fingers draw circles across his chest, outlining his tits, nipples, and abs, with all of his muscles reacting instantly to the slightest touch. "Fells good, yeah?" He whispers again, and Max opens his mouth to say something, but a low grunt is all that comes out.

"How about this, then?" The hand slides out of his shirt and instead moves toward the tent forming inside his trousers. Licking his lips in anticipation, Max's body gets stiff and rigid. "Daniel, fuuck." He groans once it reaches his length, stroking him lovingly, once, then twice, rhythmically, in sync with his own hand. "Come here." Daniel takes Max's hand, moving it away from his crotch and right toward his own. Right away, Max gasps, feeling Daniel's lust also building up rapidly. "Fuck." He grunts, turning his face toward Daniel, who's purring now too. "Let me help you." Daniel growls and guides Max all over his body. The feeling of his boyfriend's firm chest gives him goosebumps.

For a while, he is allowed to freely move his hand all over Daniel's chest and back to his waist, thighs, and crotch. It feels amazing, even though he can't see anything. All of this, including Daniel's scent hovering all around him, slowly overwhelms him. He opens his mouth to let out another, longer moan, but then Daniel kisses him softly, causing him to moan right into his mouth. Then, Max feels him separating himself before the blindfold is removed. At first, his vision is slightly blurry, but he's adjusting to the surroundings pretty quickly when he spots Daniel, smirking shyly. "How did it feel?" He says this, and Max slowly regains his composure. "Fucking amazing." Max smiles brightly, leaning in to steal another quick kiss. "We should do it again." At the sound of his husky voice, Daniel's smirk grows bigger. "I'll keep it, then?" He plays with the blindfold, and they share a laugh.

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