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#going against this pretentious one
turtleblogatlast · 10 months
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omfg did you have any content on that post you just posted? the one about leo never shutting up until hes in real pain? because you are very much Correct for that one holy hell it gets me every time
[ cw: violence mention / self sacrifice implied / ]
No content, just something I thought upon when thinking of the movie (something that is on my mind so very often.)
Just, thinking of Leo, when he’s separated from everyone and everything, being completely silent. Even being so horrifically beaten as he was, even being in a true nightmare scenario, he is silent in his suffering. Smiles through it, even.
At the moment where it would have been more than justified to make any noise, he stays silent.
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dykekakashi · 3 months
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my hero, tbh.
Nabokov's note on Lolita, "On a Book Entitled Lolita"
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greenerteacups · 11 months
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hello!!! i wanted to ask if Lionheart will mirror canon so there will be 7 books, or if you’ll extend the story to eighth year and their early careers!!! also, would you be ok with sharing if Lionheart will be a HEA or nah? 😭 i love you, i love your work 💖
Ah, thank you, you're so sweet! As of right now, my plan is to cover seven books, ending with the conclusion of the Second Wizarding War (whatever that looks like). The summary sort of tells you up front: Draco Malfoy meets a girl on a train, and then he ends a war. That's it, that's the story.
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They’re filming some sort of bigish tv show in the small mountain town I’m currently living in and there’s busses with the logo “Star Busses ⭐️” on the side for the actors and there’s big lighting things being thrown up everywhere and fancy looking crew with boom mics and other shit and I’m just tryna walk through the Main Street where they’re filming to go to the post office but I can’t without feeling like Brendan Fraser in Looney Tunes: Back in Action
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yeleltaan · 2 years
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//Hello everyone! Alright, here’s an update on things:
I’ve got one more exam to do before I’m done. The good news is that I’ve got plenty time to prepare it, and I’ve decided I’m not going to wait until then to do the things I want to do. That being said, I know it’s going to take me a little while to truly pick up the pace here and I’d like to give a little priority to adopting some healthy habits and improving my lifestyle.
There’s one thing I wanted to address though. I realize that I haven’t really engaged much with the dash and most blogs, both the newcomers and the returning faces (which, by the way, I’m very glad to see back- seriously, it’s lovely to see characters embark on new stories when they seemed to have reached a conclusion, and watching writers come back to the fandom after some time away).
Truth is, I’ve found the dash overwhelming lately. This comes partially from me being too busy to engage, and therefore experiencing something like FOMO because I can’t quite keep up with stuff and be a part of it. The Soulsborne RP community is either getting bigger or becoming more visible to me, and that’s great, but it does also present a challenge to me because if I’m engaged in your character and/or blog, I want to see what you do! I want to see all these things you’ve put effort into, I want to give you feedback, send an ask here and there, have my muse interact with yours!
If I give your post a like, I haven’t just looked at it. If it’s a drabble/headcanon/thread, I’ve read it and re-read it to get a good understanding of it and try to find whatever clues or references you’ve put in there. Perhaps it’d be better for me and the other mun if I gave likes more liberally, but I don’t know, it’s important to me that if I give your post a like, I’ve genuinely had a moment where I’ve stopped and paid attention to nothing but that exact post.
Anyways, where I’m getting with this is that I do feel rather bad that I haven’t quite been able to... welcome? you with the attention and energy I would have liked to have given you. I hope that despite the delay with which I approach you or continue our interactions, we can make up for lost time later.
I’m unsure how I’m going to handle this. I don’t intend to unfollow anyone because of this, as my issue isn’t a lack of interest but my difficulty displaying it and putting it into practice. I do think I’m going to keep a fairly passive attitude (for now) when it comes to seeking new RP partners though, because I cannot comfortably seek and approach some of the blogs I’ve seen mutuals interact with when I’m already struggling to give my time to said mutuals. I’ll still be happy to plot and write interactions with blogs that approach me though.
Anyways, thank you for your patience once more and hopefully it won’t take long for you to see me more here. May things go well for you!
#posting this at late hours (for me!) because I am driven by impulse#ooc#I'm also admittedly hesitant to start liking posts sometimes... it's silly but when I haven't really engaged with someone for a long time#it feels odd to break the ice with certain things. It's probably not worth it to think that way and I am working towards fixing that#working towards feeling less anxious about the simple stuff. Because we all need some feedback and interest from people to keep going#and feel appreciated#and I don't like that this flaw of mine gets in the way of me showing my appreciation to the things you put hard work into#nothing prompted this btw- it's just that I've been thinking about this a lot last year#and with the resurgence that came with Elden Ring. I hope people don't interpret my quietness like there's some 'bad blood' going on#I don't want to like... limit myself to one spot in the fandom either#I think that's one of the biggest factors to how I initially lost my drive to write Ornstein: got too comfortable in one spot of the fandom#so when most of those people started to leave or become inactive I had a really rough time approaching the others#even though I genuinely had nothing against any of them. I don't want that to happen here and I want to be engaged in the community#'Croc don't use the tags of your ooc post to add 50% of the information' challenge when#jokes aside. I hope you're all doing alright. Looking forward to making these posts less necessary! ^^#also I hope the 'this is how I treat likes' part doesn't come off as pretentious. I only want to give a little perspective and clarify that
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tyrannuspitch · 12 days
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sometimes it really does feel like i'm undergoing some kind of second-hand queerplatonic experience simply by trying to engage with fandom while centring and prioritising a platonic relationship. i mean, no-one's actually being hostile to me or anything, but there is honestly a kind of pervasive feeling that i just Don't Fit. in my fandom, there are communities for romantic relationships, and there are communities for individual characters, but how do i find *my* people? if there ever was a way, it's long since died out, but honestly i suspect there wasn't. i think we've always been scattered. most ppl who engage are just dabbling, or vastly prefer one character over the other. this relationship is at least peripheral to the entire fandom's experience but ppl for whom it's actually the centre are. somehow. few and far between
#but idk this is actually a gen-heavy fandom (relatively speaking 😒) so maybe i'm making it up#and what i'm actually experiencing is just a super advanced stage of my conviction that no-one gets thor like i do lmao#anyway this is not me complaining abt the few ppl i DO know in this fandom. you're all cool!!#it's just me bashing my head against a wall bc sometimes it seems like the only ppl who love both my favourite characters equally#are inc*st shippers#and shipping them is in my humble opinion just one more way to spectacularly miss the point#sigh. idk. i am trying to be more zen and ignore them without trying to bite anyone#but it also does just make me sad sometimes bc like#okay i know this is going to sound presumptuous and pretentious and so on blah blah blah#but like. i do think that amatonormativity is a huge force behind that phenomenon#which also means i think a lot of them are just ppl who like both characters and are doing it in a 'well why not' kind of way#because they don't feel like adjusting or interrogating their framework for fictional relationships they care about#and they DO feel like being a little bit edgy#which. on some level. makes me feel like. at least a few of them could've been My Community.#but they've shut the door on me.#which i know is self-centred#and also uninformed bc i do my best never to see them at all so i genuinely have NO idea what's going on in their heads it could be anythin#but still. eurghhh. it's just rlly fucking lonely okay#microdosing arophobia every day by being a genficcer in a slashfic world.#you can take the man out of the aro community* but you can't take the aro community out of the man!!!#(*turns out i'm gay)
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fer3112 · 29 days
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The fact that I can walk into any bookstore and accidentally buy reylo/harry styles fanfic should be a crime
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ocdhuacheng · 1 year
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read a fic where chainsaw man ate the death devil actually. the ending sucked so bad lmao
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yandere-daydreams · 3 months
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Title: Pet Pastimes.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 1.6k.
TW: Dub/Con, Hybrid AU, Snow Leopard!Gojo, Puppy!Reader, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Degradation, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Reader Is Very Oblivious, and Manipulation.
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“And you’re sure this is going to help?”
Satoru had been agitated when Suguru first brought you home – all dolled up in your collar, ecstatic to be led along the very same leash he always strained against. You were more obedient than most of the unruly mutts he knew, always happy enough to sit patiently and wait for your next command, but it would take more than a few weeks of passable behavior to convince Satoru dogs were anything but hyper and messy and so loud, he could hear their mindless barking from a mile away. The fact that you were supposedly here to ‘help’ him (Suguru called you a “service animal”, said most captive-born exotic hybrids had more domestic companions, but Satoru didn’t think you deserved such a pretentious title) didn’t make anything better. Satoru didn’t need help. What he needed was Suguru’s attention, but if he couldn’t have that, he’d settle for yours.
“Oh, I’m sure, puppy.” His fist tightened around the base of his cock. Suguru wasn’t home – just a quick errand, he’d claimed, it should only take a few minutes, as if that was an excuse for leaving his favorite pet and dutiful companion at home – and Satoru barely waited for the apartment door to lock before luring you into the kitchen and telling you to get on your knees while he leaned against the counter, Suguru’s forgotten phone well within reach. Currently, you were kneeling in front of him, your hands balled on your thighs and your gaze almost cross-eyed as you struggled to see what he was holding to your lips. He thought you would’ve had a little more experience, but your first owner must’ve been the sheltering type. Part of him was annoyed that he’d have to pick up the slack and teach you something so basic, but overall, he was pleased to know that it would be a long, long time before you got enough practice in to replace Satoru as Suguru’s favorite playmate. “I’ve just been feeling a little stressed out lately,” he said, drawing it out each word, giving your stupid canine brain time to process what he was saying. “This’ll really help me relax. You wanna help me out, right?”
Automatically, you nodded – your pressed frown instantly replaced with an eager smile. Your ears perked up, your concerns completely forgotten when presented with the chance to do what you’d been trained for. “Please, ‘toru,” you whined, and he fought the urge to cringe at the way Suguru’s nickname sounded coming out of your mouth. “Please let me help!”
It was almost cute, just how desperate you were to make him happy.
Almost.
He forced himself to smile back at you, using one hand to scratch at the base of your ears while the other jerked lazily over his cock. He was already hard, thankfully, and at the added stimulation, the sight of you practically drooling on yourself to get a taste of his cock, he felt himself twitch – thick pearls of arousal beginning to bead at the tip and drip onto your chin. You didn’t seem to care, to notice. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that his was the first cock you’d ever seen. “Can you open your mouth for me? Big n’ wide, just like I showed you.”
Like the trained dog you were, you obeyed immediately – letting your mouth fall open and looking up at him with the same bright, expectant eyes that must’ve won Suguru over, when he first picked you up. His hips wanted to buck forward, to bury him to the hilt in your newly available hole, but he held himself back, told himself he had to ease you into it no matter how little you’d done to earn his oh so generously given kindness. In the end, he settled for swiping his thumb over the flushed tip before resting it gingerly on your splayed-out tongue. It only took a second for you to stiffen, to jerk back. You didn’t cough or sputter, but your mouth snapped shut, your expression taking on a certain unease. Satoru fought the urge to bare his teeth. “Is something wrong, puppy?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just—” You closed your mouth, looking away. “It tasted weird. It was bitter, n’ stuff.
He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Look, if you still don’t think you can handle this, I can just tell Suguru you decided you’d rather go back to the pound—”
“Please don’t!” Your hands shot to his thighs. “I’ll be good, I promise, and I can’t— I don’t want to go back to the—”
“Then open your mouth.” After a second, you straightened, your lips parting and your jaw going slack. Still, he feigned reluctance, narrowing his eyes into a half-hearted glare as he raked his fingers through your hair and tugged half-heartedly, just hard enough to draw out a strained whimper. “And this time, don’t fuck everything up just because it ‘tastes weird’. If you do that again, I’ll have to tell Suguru you were being a bad dog.”
Your ears drooped, your tail falling slack against the tiled floor. Still, you managed not to jerk back as he slid his cock into your open mouth, slotting his tip against the velvety inside of your cheek. He could see you wince, your shoulders rising as you fought the urge to pull away, but even if you’d tried, the fingers knotted in your hair would’ve kept you rooted to the floor as he rolled his hips and thrust shallowly into the hollow of your cheek. Your tongue was smooth compared to his and wide compared to Suguru’s, and he could tell you were fighting not to move, not to explore the unknown factor trespassing inside of you. With a slight hum, he took pity on you – hazy lust having softened his previous annoyance. “It’s okay, puppy – you can lick, if you want to.” There was a moment of hesitation, then the broad flat against your tongue against the underside of his cock, tracing the shape of a prominent vein Suguru tended to favor, too. He shuddered, but told himself it was only out of reflex. You got lucky, that was all. “Mind your teeth. I’m takin’ you back to the shelter myself if you bite down.”
You tried to nod, but gave up quickly. Instead, your acknowledgment came in the form of your tongue curling around his tip, licking at the arousal dripping down his shaft, doing your best to lap at the shaft of his cock despite the awkward angle. Saliva and pre-cum pooled in the corners of your mouth, but you didn’t dare tilt your head back, didn’t dare swallow - keeping your mouth wide open as he drew back just far enough to pull out of your cheek and aim, instead, towards the back of your throat. You flinched, your dull nails scraping against his thighs, but it was easy to drown out the dull spark of pain as your tight throat fluttered and tightened around his cock, as the hand still wrapped around his base fell away in favor of joining its twin on the back of your skull and pulling you flush against his crotch. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from reacting – your body lurching against his legs as you gagged, as you tried to wretch yourself out of his hold, but he was too far gone to so much as consider letting you go. “Stupid mutt,” he mumbled, cupping the back of your skull while you fought not to suffocate on his length. “Don’t even know how to breathe right. Can’t do anything on your own, huh, can you?”
Your only response was a choked inhale, a string of incoherent gibberish half-muffled by his cock. Drool wasn’t the only thing dripping down your face, now – tears were rolling down your cheeks, fat and hot, drawing thick trails through the mess of cum and spit. Your tongue wasn’t moving, anymore, but he didn’t care – your mouth was warm and soft and fuckable enough to make up for your lack of skill. You were beating at his legs, too, your little hands made even smaller when compared to him, and for a second, he could be convinced that you were a little cute. Not cute enough to deserve as much of Suguru’s attention as you got, obviously, but cute.
His cock pulsed against the convulsing walls of your throat, and he cursed under his breath. You let out a pained whine as he drew back, pulling out of you entirely. Without his support, you threatened to buckle over, to collapse into yourself, but he held you up with one hand while the other pumped over his cock too quickly, too roughly not to tip him over the edge. It was all you could do to stare up at him with those big, watery eyes as he let out an airy moan, as he painted thick ropes of white across your messy face, as he left you stained and teary-eyed and covered with his cum.
You blinked once, then twice, but didn’t react, too out of it to complain or cry out or question why his lips quirked up into a small grin, his eyes taking on a dreamy, half-lidded sort of lull. “Good puppy,” he cooed, his heart skipping a beat as he heard your formerly stagnant tail begin to sweep lazily over the tile floor. He reached for Suguru’s phone as he went on, keeping his tone light, delicate. “Can you smile for me, too? A big, wide smile – to show how happy you are that you get to stay with me n’ Suguru.”
It took a second, but eventually, you managed a stilted nod. It was shaky, at first, more of a mangled frown than anything, but with a little love and patience, you found your footing, your lips splitting apart into a wide, beaming smile – as if you were the happiest, most pathetic puppy in the world.
God.
You were fucking adorable.
Your smile barely faltered as the camera shuttered, as Satoru’s hand fell back to your head and pet over your disheveled hair – a treat for his well-behaved mutt. He could feel you melting into his palm, but his eyes were fixed on his picture of your smiling face and, with a few taps of his thumb, Suguru’s shiny new lockscreen.
Maybe, once Suguru got a good look at your pretty face, he’d think twice before deciding to be such a neglectful owner again.
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livinginshambles · 10 months
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How much are we worth? | James Potter
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Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader
Word count: 5.8k
Summary: Sirius bets that James can't get a girl to go out with him. James pursues you and falls for you. You are hurt when you find out that you were just a bet, even more when you realise how little they bet on you.
Notes: A classic: Strangers to friends to lovers, Angst, Bet trope, Fluff and happy ending because yey, I believe in second chances :) Existence of a wardrobe that works like newt scamanders suitcase and SPeLLing Mistakes
Masterlist
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In hindsight, you should've known.
"Have you maybe considered giving up on her?" Remus' question caught James off guard when he returned to the marauders at the Gryffindor table after another failed attempt and rejection by Lily.
"Not until she's given me a chance at least," James responded, eyes trained on Lily's retreating figure. "Besides, this chasing game is sort of our thing now."
The marauders nodded sceptically.
"Not particularly the dynamic I'd want to have with the person I fancy," Peter whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. James shot him a look as if Peter had just committed the greatest betrayal of the century.
Sirius snorted out loud. "Dynamic my ass, yeah." He threw a piece of bread across the table in James' direction.
"He's stuck with Lily now because if he decides to chase some other poor girl and inevitably get rejected, it'll prove that James Potter just can't get some," he added, wearing a shit eating grin on his face.
James pulled a face at Sirius. "Oh please I can get girls. It's just that contrary to you, I actually show commitment to only one," he huffed.
Sirius shrugged. "You say that, but you've never even had a girlfriend. Been pining over Evans since first year. Besides, commitment or being stuck," he weighed his hands in the air. "Same same."
James rolled his eyes and got up. When he turned around, he crashed into someone who had been standing behind him, tripping her, and he sent her crashing into the Ravenclaw table behind him. The Ravenclaw sitting at that table ducked out of the way. She stuck her hands out to brace herself and loudly hissed when her hand ended up in someone's scalding soup.
"Godric, I am so sorry," James scrambled to offer her a napkin. She snatched it out of his hands and dried her hands. James saw that they were scorching red and more apologies stumbled out of his mouth.
"Let me help you get to madam Pomfrey," he offered, concern lacing his tone. He reached his hand out to her and she jerked away.
"Fuck off Potter, I'd rather take a bloody bath in boiling water than go anywhere with you." She spat, and left, hand pressed against her chest, covered by the napkin.
The commotion had everyone turn their heads at him and despite usually being a fan of being at the centre of attention, he embarrassedly sat down again.
"Guess really no girl wants to go anywhere with you, Prongs," Sirius snickered. James offered him a sour look.
"This was just because I literally burned her hand, Pads. Any other time, she would totally go out with me." James boasted, but guilt and concern for the girl who he didn't know, lingered in his mind.
"Right, you wanna bet?"
"The usual?"
"The usual."
They sealed the deal with a nod. Peter and Remus shared a look but they knew that was no use trying to tell them to stop it already. Remus thought back to the scowl on the girl's face and prayed that she would stay headstrong and reject James.
After all, Sirius and James were from wealthy families, so money has never actually played a role during these bets. It’s just the principle of it that counts and is the reason why they only ever bet one galleon. It meant someone would get hurt.
The scowl on your face disappeared with the cool relief of the running water from the girls bathroom on your hand, but the bitter feeling remained when your mind wandered to James Potter. You scoffed to yourself. Arrogant, self pretentious, blood boiling bully. Though never having been a victim of their pranks, you lost several friends to Beauxbatons because of the marauders’ cruelty.
You glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time and left for your Ancient Runes class where you walked to your designated seat next to Lily Evans. You two unsurprisingly got along. Though your personalities were nothing alike, you being rather reserved, you could both value each other’s calm presence and even ‘maturity’ to a certain degree.
She offered you a smile and you nodded at her in acknowledgement. “I’m embarrassed to ask this, but could I maybe share your book? I didn’t have time to pick it up after lunch.” Lily gave you a surprised look but quickly assured you that you could to which you offered her a small but grateful smile.
She opened her mouth to tell you something, when something else, or rather someone else, caught her attention. Before he even reached the table, she had already attempted to ward him off in a monotone voice. “Go away Potter, I’m not interested.”
“Not here for you, Lilypad,” he smugly said and stopped right next to you. Lily raised her eyebrows and looked at you with a concerned look. Without looking up from Lily’s book, you also repeated Lily’s words. “Fuck off Potter, I’m not interested either.”
“I haven’t even said anythi-“
“And I don’t want you to.”
“Okay, but here me out, I-“
“I. Don’t. Want. You. To,” you pronounced every word clearly.
“Come on, just listen-“
You turned around, an incredibly sour look on your face. James couldn’t help but admire you for a moment. You looked pretty, contorted face aside. Especially when you had smiled at Lily. It had caught him off guard.
“Can you spare me a second?” He tried again. For a second, he thought he saw a look of appreciation cross your face at his formulated words, but it was gone in a split second.
“No. Class is starting, get back to your seat Potter,” you dryly responded. You turned back to your book and James walked back to his friends.
James potter was determined though, you had to give him that. You abruptly turned on your heels, ready to walk in the opposite direction, even if it would mean a detour of about 8 minutes to your destination. You were really not into his crap today.
“Y/N!” James called out to you and chased you.
“I told you to call me by my last name. We're not friends, Potter. I don’t want to be. In fact, I don’t want anything to do with you. So, for Merlin’s sake, leave me alone, or I swear on his balls that I will hurt you.” You spat the last part out through gritted teeth and
James took a step back in surprise. He looked at you for a moment, carefully considering his next words. “L/N.” He settled on, voice quieter. When you didn’t immediately walk off, he took it as a sign to continue. “I was wondering if you would allow me to sit next to you during our free period between Transfiguration and Potions.”
You raised you eyebrows.
“My friends all took classes and there’s like a two hour gap and I like company, that’s all,” he hastily explained before you could go and reject him.
“What are you, six years old?” You sarcastically asked him. “Can’t spend what, two hours on your own?”
James’ eyes averted to the ground. “Just not enjoying being alone,” he mumbled, almost embarrassedly. You looked at him, great, now you were being an asshole yourself.
“You know the big old wardrobe in the abandoned classroom on the seventh floor?” you eventually asked. James’ eyes lit up and nodded.
“It’s bigger on the inside.” You said.
“A secret room?” He asked while trying to recall seeing an extra room on the map. You nodded. “Not even visible on your map because it’s not Hogwarts. A pocket dimension, Dumbledore said.”
James’ jaw fell slack. “You know about the map?” he whispered.
“You can join me there between classes next week if you want, but I can’t promise you that it’ll be any different to passing the time on your own.” You said, completely ignoring him. You stopped in front of the library. “A word about the wardrobe and I swear-“
“-on Merlin’s balls that you’ll hex me, yeah,” he waved you off with a triumphant smile.
“Witty, are you now.” You looked at him. A small smirk lingering on the corner of your lips. James heart skipped.
“Just one of the effects you have on me, darling,” he winked at you. “L/N,” he quickly corrected when your face fell into a scowl again.
“I’m not kidding though, this is my spot to get away from everything. I don’t feel like sharing it with people.” James felt flattered. So you would share it with him?
“I solemnly swear I won’t tell,” he assured you, a serious expression on his face. “You can trust me, L/N.” He cringed at his own words. Trust him? He was only talking to you to prove Sirius wrong.
“I’ll hold you to it, Potter,” you nodded and entered the library. The door closed and James slouched against the wall next to him. A giddy feeling fluttered in his stomach at the thought of hanging out with you.
“So what happened to rather bathing in boiling water than going anywhere with me,” James couldn’t help but arrogantly ask while trying to keep up with your ridiculously fast walking pace as you two were on your way to the wardrobe. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re going somewhere with me,” you denied, your eyes narrowed at him. James put his hands up in mock surrender. “Lead the way, L/N.”
“I am,” you deadpanned.
James sceptically looked at the oak wardrobe. He and his friends had rummaged through this room already. It included the wardrobe, but it had looked pretty normal.
“Doesn’t look very special,” he said while you were busy locking the door behind you. You made your way over to James and pushed him out of the way roughly. He gaped at you with an offended look on his face. “You know, being a bit more chivalrous wouldn’t hurt you,” he exclaimed.
You shrugged and opened the door. James stared in amazement as he realised that the inside was in fact bigger. He walked to the wall that the wardrobe was standing against and squeezed his hand between the wall and the wardrobe.
“Why are you so surprised?” you asked. “We literally learned about the Extension charm yesterday?”
“We did?”
Maybe hanging out with James Potter wasn’t as terrible as you had expected it to be and so, it became a routine. James had finally realised that his persistence to flirt with you or try to impress you wasn’t getting him anywhere and had opted to actually be considerate of you.
He respected you when you not so kindly told him to fuck off and was sitting next to you quietly while you studied between hours in the wardrobe. He had read the book that he’d seen you read in the courtyard- and was surprised to find himself interested in the story- so that he could talk to you about something when your demeanour told him that he could speak again. He stuck to calling you by your last name and learned to read your mood when he could joke around.
Most importantly, he’d learned to enjoy himself in a comfortable silence that didn’t require him to do or say anything and just let him be.
You two were laying on the couch again, feet propped up, both on opposite sides, but feet touching in the middle. James was admiring you. The way your eyebrows crunched up in a frown, eyes squinted, and lips mouthing the words you were reading.
“You’re careless with spelling, Potter.” You eventually looked up from correcting his assignment. “But that’s a brilliant essay.”
James beamed up at you, relief, pride and happiness all washing over him at once.
“Also, you have a nice handwriting,” you added after considering whether or not you should mention it.
James was now fully grinning, pushing himself to sit up from his relaxed position. “Two compliments?” he asked teasingly and you immediately huffed and looked away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Potter. It’s big as it is.”
“But you think I’m brilliant and that my handwriting is nice.” He repeated happily.
“Your essay was brilliant,” you attempted to correct him, but he seemed to be lost in happy thoughts. You looked at him. He had his arms up behand his neck because he had laid down again. He was grinning from ear to ear and his eyes squinted in delight and satisfaction. He looked so... harmless.
“You know,” you began and James looked up at you, propping himself up a little in curiosity at the fact that you were starting the conversation for the first time.
“I used to think you were the biggest asshole ever. Astoundingly stupid and good for nothing but hurting people.” You were looking up at the ceiling now and missed the way James eyes flashed with mixed feelings.
“I had a few friends, you know. They were great, but everyone called them boring and a stick in the mud.” You turned your head towards James. “You and the rest of the marauders used to tell us to “lighten up already,” and pranked us separately, one by one until all five moved schools.”
James looked down, feeling horrible and guilty. It was true that in his early years at Hogwarts, he and his friends had been going too far with pranks. That kind of stopped after that prank.
“So I’ve held a grudge against you, like any good friend would do,” you smiled to yourself at the thought of your friends. “I think maybe I no longer have to.” James heart melted at your confession. Over the course of weeks, he’d become desperate for your approval and friendship.
“You’ve changed since then,” you concluded out loud. “Not cruel anymore.” You hesitated for a moment.
“James?” You then asked and James looked up at you with wide eyes. He knew that this was the first time that you’d addressed him by his name instead of ‘Potter’.
“Yeah?”
“I really value our friendship,” you whispered. “It’s worth a lot to me.”
James heart both warmed and tightened. “It’s worth a lot to me too,” he whispered back.
“Where were you,” Remus asked when he returned to the Gryffindor common room. “We looked on the map, but we couldn’t find you.”
“And we couldn’t find Y/N either.” James fought the urge to correct them and say that they shouldn’t use your first name like that. That he had worked for your friendship to stop calling you by your last name.
“Do I owe you a galleon now?” Sirius popped up from behind him. “What? No,” James said, thinking of another subject to talk about, wanting to ignore the existence of the bet in the first place.
“I was hanging out with Y/N,” he admitted. “But because we're friends now.”
“Yeah, but where were you hanging out?” Peter asked. “Because we weren’t allowed to leave Hogwarts today.”
“Did you find another secret passage?” Sirius gasped and James immediately shook his head to deny it. “Oh come on, we’re your friends, you have to tell us!”
Remus watched James shift uncomfortably and tried to intervene. “Let him be, Padfoot.” Sirius wasn’t having it though, and when James said that he promised not to tell, he responded with, “What, you value your fake friendship with that stick-up-her-ass girl more than us?”
“It’s not a fake friendship,” he weakly fought back. “Don’t call her that.”
Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry Prongs. I didn’t mean to call her that, hell I don’t even know the girl, she’s probably alright. But you’re keeping secrets, it’s not fair.”
You stared in disbelief at the marauder who wasn’t James, having a hook-up in your wardrobe. When he noticed you in the entrance, Sirius merely held his hand up at you in a greeting. “Thanks for letting me borrow this, this is the best spot for not getting caught.”
You backed away and slammed the door shut. James.
“Potter!” you yelled at him when you saw him leave the Gryffindor chambers. Your face was contorted in anger and you were seething.
He looked up at you, happy feeling in his chest and he was itching to show you the paper behind his back.
You stabbed your finger in his chest, effectively wiping the happy grin on his face off. “You promised,” you hissed. James immediately knew what you were talking about. “I’m sorry, I had to tell him,” he tried to justify his actions and you scoffed. “Fuck you,” you spat and walked off.
James stood there, frozen and stared at the empty spot in front of him. His arms hung by his side and he looked down at his essay which wore a big ‘O’ mark and right next to it in Professor McGonagall’s handwriting, ‘Keep this brilliant work up, Mr. Potter.’
James was watching you, sulking. He had made such progress and now it felt as if all those baby steps were for nothing, instead taking eight long strides back. You had closed yourself off again and James was too intimidated by your glares every time he walked in your direction, so he would change directions last minute every time you burned a hole through his head with your eyes.
‘This is so stupid’ he thought to himself when his body automatically steered him away from you again. He mustered up all of his courage and headed straight for you. He would rather face your wrath head on than go back to being strangers. Especially when tomorrow was free period again.
“Is it okay if I talk to you for a moment?” he asked, nervous.
You scanned him up and down. Everything about him looked remorseful, from his posture to dull eyes to his tone when he asked you if he could have a word. You waved at him to take a seat next to you, and he gratefully took the opportunity.
“I’m sorry. I swore I wouldn’t tell and I did and I shouldn’t have. I would go back in time and stop past me from telling Sirius, but I can’t, but I also don’t want to lose you because I meant what I said. This friendship is worth so much to me.” James took a deep breath. “So please let me make amends?” he finished.
“Okay.”
James blinked. “Okay?” he dumbly repeated.
“That’s what I said.”
“Wait, so that’s it? No grovelling? No conditions?”
“Would you like me to add conditions?”
“I mean..” James stuttered. “Sure?”
“Fine. Consider this your second chance , even though it technically is your third after your horrid behaviour towards my friends. It’s also your last.” You said that last part sharply. “Do you accept those terms?”
James nodded in relief and agreed. It was only when he laid in bed at night that he realised that he should’ve probably gotten clean on the matter of the bet right when he had the chance. He was on his last chance after all. But it would be alright. He would simply call off the bet and then it would be as if nothing ever happened. No one had to know, no one had to get hurt.
He waited after Transfiguration and grinned at you when you made your way to him. He had really looked forward to spending time with you again at your spot. Even if the marauders knew its location now, too.
“Lead the way, Y/N.”
“I am,” you retorted with a hint of amusement in your voice. James grinned and followed you, only noticing after a while that you were walking around on the third floor instead of the seventh. “Did you find a new spot?” he curiously asked.
“Yes. And no.” James huffed at your vagueness, imploring you to explain. “Let’s just say that Dumbledore got himself off my blacklist.” You turned the corner and moved a portrait to the side. James knew of the passageway. It was moist in there and cold so it hadn’t interested him and his friends very much. But behind the door you just opened, stood your wardrobe.
He looked at it, amazed. “You got Dumbledore to move a wardrobe for you?” he asked incredulously. You slyly smiled but didn’t say anything except for “I did the cleaning myself.”
“So what’s going on with you and James,” Lily curiously asked you. You shrugged and brought your water bottle to your lips. “Kept bothering me into a friendship, I guess.”
Lily laughed. “Well, whatever keeps him away from me,” she joked and you let out an audible laugh. She leaned in towards you. “But if he’s no longer fighting for my attention, but yours, I think it might mean that he fancies you.”
You choked on your water. “Most certainly not!” You strictly assured her and composed yourself. Lily laughed. “No need to get so defensive over his feelings. You make it seem as if I suggested that you fancied him,” she said, chuckling. You turned your head away and she gasped. “Do you fancy him?”
“What’s with all this gossiping and boys talk,” you grumbled, unpleased. “But for the record, I don’t think so.” You stuck your nose up.
“You don’t think so?” Lily repeated. “What do you mean?”
“I gravely appreciate him and I feel very comforted in his presence. We’re friends. It doesn’t mean I fancy him.” You answered. “Besides, I’ve never fancied anyone. Not sure I know what it’s like.”
“Okay, how would you feel if he starts dating someone, right now?”
You pondered over the question for a bit. “I guess he can do whatever he wants, but don’t expect me to share our spot with some random girl,” you said, the last part coming out more bitter than you expected. Huh. ‘Did you fancy James Potter?’ you wondered.
“I fancy her,” James told his friends while they were out in Hogsmeade.
“L/N?” Peter asked. James nodded in affirmation. “Well damn Prongs,” Sirius started. “What happened?”
“Y/N and I are good, I think. We fit and it feels amazing. It seems surprising, but we can talk for hours or sit in silence together without it being weird at all. Everything is comfortable with her, in like the good way,” James struggled to express all his feelings about you.
Sirius whistled. “Almost envious of you, Prongs. What about Evans though?”
James shrugged. “Not the kind of dynamic I want.”
“So are you going to tell her?” Remus asked. James puffed his chest. “Of course. I’m not shy about my feelings. I publicly chased after Lily for years,” he reasoned. But despite his big words, he felt like a nervous wreck. Because what if you rejected him?
James found you in the library. “Is now a good time?” he asked. You sat up straight. Last night, you had done a lot of thinking and came to the conclusion that yes, you fancied James Potter. “Yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you,” you replied. You got up and and started to gather your belongings. James grabbed your books for you and you left the library.
“I fancy you.”
James blinked. Were his ears deceiving him? Were you joking? Did you have a bet of your own going on with someone?
“I’m sorry?” he managed to get out, his voice an octave higher than usual.
“I fancy you,” you stated again. Matter of factly. “I came to the realisation yesterday and they do say honesty is the best policy.” James laughed softly at your sad attempt to lessen the awkward atmosphere.
“I actually wanted to talk to you to say the same thing,” he breathed out in a relieved manner. You stared at him in surprise. Okay. Definitely not what you expected.
“So you fancy me.” You repeated to make sure.
“And you fancy me.” James nodded.
“Do you want to go out with me?” you asked.
James’ heart leaped. He had spent so much time asking that question, he realised that how amazing it felt to hear the question directed at him. He grinned. “Glad you asked, darling. Yes, I’ll go out with you.” He reached out to you carefully wrapped an arm around you. You fully leaned into him in a hug and breathed him in.
“Think our relationship just went up in value.” You mumbled, your words slightly muffled by your face, hidden in his sweater.
You felt him laugh. “Well, we upgraded from friends to couple. How much are we worth now?”
You pretended to think about it. “We’re worth all the money in Gringotts bank.”
“That’s a lot of money,” he hummed.
You had taken James out on a date in the middle of the Gryffindor Quidditch stands at night, after curfew. James was the first to lean in and kiss you and when he did, he practically melted into you, your arms slung over his broad shoulders. He’d muttered something about how lucky he was and you’d told him that he better know it, before admitting that you felt the same way.
After you had left him several hickeys, scattered across his neck, he had insisted on returning the favour. He was only on his second when you two were interrupted by Filch, who had spotted you two. You two ran off to the third floor and decided to hide out in your wardrobe until he was gone all while continuing making out. You and James fell asleep in that position. You on your back on the couch, James draped over you like a weighted blanket with his face nuzzled in your throat, and your legs entangled.
Though very surprised at first, your fellow Hogwarts students quickly got used to the idea of you and James in a relationship. It wasn’t long before you were walking down the corridors together, James hand on your lower back and inching lower. You shot him a warning glare and he bit his check when he splayed his hand over your ass with a cheeky smile. You elbowed him in the ribs, earning a huff and let your hand rest on his ass in turn.
Everything was perfect, which is of course why everything had to become a disaster very quickly. James wasn’t even sure how such a perfect night had turned so horrible. One moment, you were partying, everything had been great, and he had been envisioning you and him for the rest of your lives, and the next, he was pleading with you through a locked door.
“Y/N, we can call you Y/N right?” Sirius had drunkenly slurred. You had rolled your eyes at his antics, but nodded. Though you would never admit it out loud, you appreciated the elder Black.
“I like you. We all like you and we’re happy that it’s you and not Evans anymore,” he mumbled on and he stumbled over his own feet, barely reacting in time to not drop to the floor.
You internally smiled at his words.
“I’m sorry that I was an asshole to you. You’re really great. If I had known, I wouldn’t have targeted your friend group for pranks or risked your feelings by making you part of a stupid bet.”
It was as if the world stopped spinning for a moment, music only barely in the background. “A bet?” you spoke in a dangerously low voice.
Sirius seemed to catch on to your change in demeanour and sobered up at an incredible rate. “Shit, no-“
But you had already turned around to find James, Sirius stumbling behind you to try and stop you.
“How much?” you spat out angrily when you found him. The music was luckily loud enough to hide your argument from other students.
James looked at you, confused. “How much?”
“How much are we worth?”
James frowned at you question. “All the money in Gringotts bank,” he calmly answered you and moved to embrace you, thinking you were just very drunk.
You pushed him away and he stumbled a few steps back.
“No,” you hoarsely responded. “That’s how much I think we’re worth. How much did you bet on me.”
James’ blood ran cold. “I-“ His words opened and closed like a fish. “Because the amount better have been fucking worth it, James,” you cut him off.
“Darling-“
You felt numb. “How little?”
“A galleon.”
You nodded and stepped back. “I was wrong,” you shakily breathed out. “You, James Potter, are still cruel.”
James chased you. “Wait, please,” he begged. You ran out of the room, towards the third floor and into the wardrobe hidden behind the door behind the portrait.
James followed you and pulled on the knob to open the wardrobe that you had locked. He sunk down against the doors and took a deep breath.
He had to explain. He had to let you know that you meant everything to him. And that everything was real. Honesty is the best policy after all, right?
“I’m sorry. Darling, I am so sorry. It’s so stupid how it happened. They were saying that I couldn’t get anyone to go out with me and then I accidentally hurt you with the soup incident, so Sirius bet with me that I couldn’t get anyone you to go out with me. I was never planning on hurting you, I swear,“ James rambled.
“I wanted to apologize and make up for your hand anyway. Not that it was out of pity or anything,” he immediately added.
“I did think you were beautiful. I did want to talk to you. And when you rejected me at first, yes, I did want to prove Sirius wrong. But then you were everything. I wanted so desperately to be friends with you because you were right. The bet was stupid, but it was never about money. It was never even about you per se, but I’m so fucking happy that it ended up being you, because I’m in love with you. Please believe me.”
You sucked in a breath at his words. “Why didn’t you tell me?��
James jumped at your voice from the other side of the door. “I wanted to, I really did. But I had already screwed up once and you weren’t going to give me anymore chances, so I thought that if I just never told you and called of the bet, pretending it never happened, I could keep you.” He leaned back against the door, eyes tightly shut. “And if we break up, then I don’t regret it, because the past months with you were perfect,” he whispered.
The door abruptly opened from inside out and he stumbled back, having leaned against it. He looked up at you, hovering above him. He knew you. He knew how to read you and right now, you needed space. “I’ll wait for you,” he said, hesitantly and left you alone.
You needed your friends right now.
When James didn’t see you the next day, he accepted that you didn’t want to see him. But by now, almost an entire week had passed and James and his friends were itching to apologize to you at least once more. He decided to ask Lily where you were and was absolutely not prepared for her answer.
“She went to Beauxbatons.” Lily pursed her lips at the boy in front of her in disdain. She knew what had happened but couldn’t help but pity him a little bit when he looked at her like that. Devastated.
James’ world stopped and for a moment he thought he couldn’t breathe. Did you leave? Had he managed to push you away to a whole different school? He thanked Lily for her answer and sat down at his own desk in a daze. His body moved on autopilot for the next few days. He was falling into a routine that he didn’t like.
During free periods, he hid out in the wardrobe, face up towards the ceiling as he imagined you were lying in his arms right then.
You had been gone for a week and a half and had returned to Hogwarts. Feeling lighter in your heart and decisive steps carrying you towards the Gryffindor Quidditch stands, right on time for the match.
You saw James and your heart jumped. He looked good. He had definitely looked better before, but all in all, he looked good. You bit your lip, suddenly insecure and doubting his promise to wait for you. Another twenty points for Gryffindor and admired James from the distance.
When you had arrived at Beauxbatons, you had wallowed in self pity for a day or two before your friends had pulled you out of it and reasoned with you. Surprisingly on James’ behalf.
You knew they were right. You were madly in love with James and he was undoubtedly madly in love with you too. Though it had all started off as a bet, how could you stay upset when it only brought you and James together.
James eyes scanned through the crowd, automatically trailing to the spot where you two had been sitting and kissed during your first date. He had to do a double take when he saw you in the crowds and almost fell off his broomstick when he rubbed his eyes with both hands to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
He started making his way towards you when his eyes locked onto the golden snitch. His eyes flickered between you and the snitch, but you had seen it too, so you flashed him a grin. His shoulders relaxed, and he started the chase.
“Darling?” James appeared in the doorway to the boy’s changing rooms.
“James,” you nodded. You were smiling at him, and your warm, inviting tone had him move forward until you were within reach.
“I’ve missed you so much, I thought I lost you.”
“Hm, you’re just lucky that I really really love you too.” You sassed back. James was in front of you in two big steps. “Yeah?” he asked a twinkle in his eye. “Just like that? No grovelling? No conditions?”
You kissed him. “Would you like me to include grovelling?” you laughed at him.
“Yeah actually. You see, I’ve already prepared at least eight different ways to make up to you.”
He pressed his lips to yours again.
“Get a room!” Sirius yelled and you shot him a sour look. He held up his hands in surrender, a shit eating grin still present on his face.
“Fine, but don’t expect your captain back for the celebratory party. He’s mine tonight,” you shot back.
“And every other night, I hope?” James coyly smiled at you. You shook your head in amusement and dragged him away, hand slipping to rest on his ass, his own hand finding its way to yours.
“Lead the way, Darling.”
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anantaru · 20 days
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ ACE OF SPADES
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part two. | rich boy aven masterlist.
synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your first date with rich boy aventurine is more fun than you initially expected, who knows where things will go from there // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡
cw. fluff, slightly suggestive, rich boy au, reader wears a dress, flirty aventurine, a/n. this will have a part two if you can't tell, fem! reader ♡
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you turn your face to the left and let your visual perception take in the luxurious casino you've been invited in— undeniably, your first reaction was dedicated to the chimes of whistles of various slot machines announcing wins and losses, in combined action with racketing noises of their shafts being pulled.
your jaw parts and your eyes grow, it felt surreal to stand here with an expensive dress hugging your body tight, a small gift from your date, nothing more, nothing less. rich boy aventurine slowly slides his palm over the back of your hand to lure your thoughts back to himself as he intertwines his fingers with your own.
you stiffen, it didn't take a genius to notice that you were slightly nervous about your first date with the infamous gambler. if only he would've picked a better place to get to know each other— alas, in a way it was exactly what you've expected.
well yes, aventurine choose the probably, most unromantic spot for a first date— but, you got a dress as a gift, together with an embellished necklace and a free entry to a luxurious, private casino.
so, did you really mind? hmm, not really. in fact, it was quite unique and exciting to be here, you also felt safe by his side, and especially intrigued to get to know more about his, quote on quote, playground.
men, or how people called them here; high rollers in pretentious suits, glide like sharks over the soft tumble of the dice. it's all very crowded and distracting, needless to say it was interesting to witness, but you notice how your heart was thumping faster, that's when you began to feel yourself getting difficulties to breathe evenly.
snugly pressed against aventurine, you walk past the shrill murmur of crowds and bells of roulette wheels as the gambler spins you towards his chest, his hand carrying on to hold yours gently, "are you okay? you look a little nervous," he says nonchalantly, although his handsome voice told you a different story, an affectionate perception, "our table is right there, we can take a seat and talk if you want. "
your gaze slowly shifts to where aventurine was pointing his head towards as you look at a large table right next to the exclusive sight of exquisite gold and silver fountains and statuaries. this must've cost a fortune, you were certain that this area alone was the most breathtaking one.
you awkwardly glare up at him, your breathing picking up on tempo, "of course, but..." your last note was drawn out as aventurine cocks a curious brow at you, "would it be okay to excuse myself for a bit?"
you continue shortly, fists balled, "it's a little stuffy here, you see, i'd love to take some fresh air without bothering you about it,"
in all honesty, the air was, well, utterly despicable. the lofty mixture of overpriced cologne and sweat penetrated your nostrils to the point where it began to ache and scratch your brain.
despite the fact that everything was overwhelming in its entirety.
being embarrassed by your human reactions might be an imprecise wording and false emotion to feel, you shouldn't feel bad about this. although you felt awkward and uneasy to ask aventurine if you could take a swift breather outside.
what if he found you to be boring now? or even worse, ungrateful when it was him who made it possible for you to see something like this in the first place.
a high class casino that could never be visited by the ordinary.
he looks at you through his glasses and you could swear his eyes had a mellow glow, a tender glimmer of serenity as his lips carve into a handsome smile, "oh of course, lets go right away so you won't get nauseous," he utters out, his stomach sitting heavy with lead and eagerness to look out for you.
you freeze for a second, "uh, wait, i really don't want to ruin this night for you," and sigh, letting your gaze wander around everywhere but his direction before tapping out a nervous rhythm against the soft marble on the floor.
all aventurine does was laugh airily, "you're adorable,"
"you're not ruining anything, in fact, you really couldn't, even if you tried,"
ugh, everything about you is just so pretty, you're sweet and angelic and he's glad he's bought this dress for you, it fits you like a second skin— aventurine takes note of your beauty, he stores it into the most important places in his brain so he could dream about you later.
memorize how this dress looks on you. closer and closer.
"but here, take my jacket, okay? it's rather cold," he flips his jacket down his shoulders before draping it over your own before suddenly closing the distance from his lips to your ear— silent, there's a voice next to your skin, it's deep, handsome and smoking hot. barely above an octave as it holds a teasing verge to it, "i wouldn't want you to catch a cold, yeah?"
you hum in agreement as you rest your hands above his clothed chest, butterflies storm through your belly and settle heavily inside as aventurine wraps one arm around your waist, his breath wafting around your lovely lips.
you felt the need to kiss him, and so did he, feel the same towards you. for a moment, you two linger feeling each others warmth a little longer, relishing in your precious attempts to getting to know each other better. it's slightly awkward, you could tell that aventurine noticed how your eyes were fighting the urge to keep admiring him.
yet, he's not complaining— he could never, not when you're so cute, and your touch on him was consistently warm, your trace firm but confident, content and safe.
he hopes you will enjoy yourself tonight, and maybe, only maybe, you will invite him over to your place later.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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empyreva · 3 months
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Loser's Spoils
Summary: Luke usually loves treating you like his own little goddess, but after you cost him a game of capture the flag...he wants to change things up.
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Word count: 4.1k
Warnings: Established relationship, Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader (not that important), Mean!Luke Castellan, smut, P in V, PWP, oral sex (m and f), fingering, dom/sub elements, slight dubcon (always check in with your partners!!), kink exploration, slapping, some degradation (and praising)
A/N: Shameless indulgence. I tried to stick to this audio as best as I could but I think that in teen/ya relationships, holding a more serious dom/sub dynamic is a little harder so Luke is super good at making sure you're ok because it's all new to him too...Minors DNI!!
Other campers were quick to dodge out of your and Luke's paths, sensing that he would not hesitate to body-check them if they didn't. A cloud of wrath (with a tinge of humiliation) seemed to engulf your boyfriend--They knew better than to question it at all, scurrying back to do whatever chores and tasks they had been mildly interrupted from before.
Before you knew it, Luke had dragged you into your cabin, looking around for any of your, as he put it, 'overly pretentious' siblings. Aphrodite's cabin was empty, much to his delight, and he dragged you into the bathroom with a loud SLAM of the door. Once inside, he let go of you with a slight push, seeming to not pay you any mind as he fussed about the area.
"Luke, what the fuck?" You hissed, rubbing your now tender arm as Luke propped one of the vanity chairs beneath the door knob to ensure no one would be able to accidentally wander in. It was a good precaution--Three too many of your sisters now can't even look at him without becoming almost visibly upset. "What's your problem today?"
"Don't act like you don't know, baby," Luke turned around with a dark look in his eyes, causing you to gulp back any further questions. "You've hurt my feelings today, y'know? First by not joining my team...and then by winning because you know I couldn't hurt my pretty little girl--acting all brave and jumping in to protect that twerp of an Apollo kid."
"Baby, it's just a game..." You reached up to caress his tense jaw, his facade faltering for a split second as he took in your soft touch, "I mean, they just needed another player--that kid is literally like 11 so-" Luke cut off your sentence by roughly pushing you against the vanity counter behind you--glass bowls and organizers full of various makeup products rattling from the force. His hands planted at either side of you, hips flushed to yours. 
"I. Don't. Care," he growled. A whimper escaped your throat, feeling something hard pressing against you--growing in size with every breath that your boyfriend took. "You were disloyal, you won, you know that drives me crazy."
"'m sorry," you mumbled, trying your best to bat your long lashes at him, fingers brushing against the hem of his shirt. This was a common occurrence between the two of you--You 'defeating' the 'best swordsman' just by distracting him enough to let your teammates finish up the game. How could he even raise his sword at a girl like you, batting your lashes and pouting so cutely as a kid scurried off behind you? Even if he seemed mad about losing, losing to you drove him up the wall with desire—I mean, it always ended in Luke making you scream his name until your throat went hoarse, anyway. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"Yeah, you will," there was a glint of something sinister in Luke's eyes that unnerved you. It was like you were a piece of meat dangling before a starved wolf, just waiting to be devoured. "I'm not gonna let you off easy this time, baby. No, no...You need to be taught a proper lesson." He glared down at you, but his hand grasped yours gently, thumbing circles against your knuckles. "Ok? Now on your knees."
Obediently, you lowered yourself to the ground, hands in your lap as Luke discarded his belt and cargos quickly. His cock was already dripping with pearls of precum--and you couldn't help yourself as you eagerly took him in your mouth. Your head bobbed unhurriedly as you savored every inch of his hard cock, taking pleasure in the way his hips thrust forward instinctively. He liked it when you took your time, swallowing him whole and gagging. You moaned deeply, feeling his hand brush lightly against the nape of your neck, urging you to slow down.
"Shhh... Look at me," he commanded sternly. His voice was low and gravelly, making your insides quiver. You hesitated briefly before meeting his gaze fully, watching intently as he gazed intently into your soul. There was a fierceness in his expression that sent chills down your spine, and you knew that he meant business. His fingers traced your hollow cheeks, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ears, drinking in this image of you. "You look so cute, so adorable."
That comment flustered you more than the fact his dick was nearly halfway down your throat--and you immediately pulled back, words forming in your throat as the head of his cock brushed against your tongue. A fistful of your hair wrapped around Luke's hand, and he pushed your head until your nose was tickled by the curls of black hair at the base of his dick. "Shut the fuck up and look at me. Let me see my pretty girl."
Nearly, crossed-eyed, you stared up at Luke in a daze, nostrils flaring as you held back your urge to gag around him. He looked so handsome...a certain tortured look marred across his face as he contemplated whether he should cum down your throat while you clawed at his legs or if he should fuck you silly. Tough choice.
"I want to play with you," he finally decided aloud, releasing you from his cock, letting you gasp for air. It didn't last long, though, because Luke was quick to roughly pull you back onto your feet, a strong hand gripping your jaw. You gulped and heaved, daring not to move as Luke pressed up against you, eyes inspecting your flushed and sloppy face. It was just so kissable, his poor little baby. 
His tongue slipped into your mouth before you knew it, and your hands reached up to grab at his curls--pulling him deeper. A collection of quiet moans filled the bathroom, bouncing off the marble floors and pristine white walls. After a few minutes, Luke pulled away cheeks red and burning, staring down at you.
"Take your pants off, just the pants," he commanded, giving you just enough room to fumble with the button of your bottoms. After nervously missing the hole a few times, you were able to slide them off, kicking them to the side. You resisted the urge to rub your thighs together, instead choosing to look haphazardly at the floor. "Good girl, now look at me." 
You faltered, maybe from shyness or maybe from a sudden spark of rebellion, but your gaze remained pointed down at the space between you. Luke was stunned for a moment, tilting his head to the side before letting out a sarcastic chuckle.
"Look. At. Me."
Slap
Your gaze shot up, eyes wide as you began to register the sting radiating in your cheek before it dissipated. His slap wasn't too hard, more of a forceful pat. Eyes locking with yours, Luke seemed to be gauging your reaction, waiting for you to say the words that would have him begging for your forgiveness in a matter of seconds. They never came. 
Slap
"I said look at me when I'm speaking to you." 
Slap
Fuck okay, that one hurt a lot more. You let out a pained yelp, lip quivering as you tried to keep yourself steady. 
Slap
Luke shushed you when you tried to cry out, frowning when you flinched away from his hand--now he was just trying to caress your cheek. A small wave of regret washed over him, and a tightness in his chest pulled tighter. "Come here, it's ok," he beckoned, drawing you into a hug. You buried your face in his chest, biting back whimpers as he reassured you that you were a good girl and you were so brave and so strong for him. 
"Are you ok, baby?" He whispered into your hair, wanting to know before continuing. Nodding slowly, you pulled back to look at him with misty but loving eyes, a small smile stretching across your lips.
"I trust you, you know that." Luke was a man of many curiosities, so you were somewhat acclimated to his sudden changes in wants and needs during sex--even if albeit a bit shocking at first. But deep down, you knew that he would rather stab himself with backbiter a million times rather than force you into anything.
"Love you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The two of you stayed quiet for a second, Luke touching you wherever he so pleased as you fell compliant under his touch. His fingers found yours, bringing one hand up to daintily kiss the back of it--a mischievous grin appearing as you met his gaze. In a split second, his hand was in your hair, tugging your head back sharply, earning a hiss in response.
"Shhh...it's ok, it's ok, baby," Luke's lips trailed down your cheek, ghosting over your neck before planting a few rougher kisses. You whimper, feeling his teeth sink into the tense skin, surely leaving a mark as he suckled and nipped. "Shh, we don't want people to hear us. Don't we?" Luke taunted you with his own deep moan, now moving onto his third mark--pulling away to look at you when he was sure your neck was going to be a nasty shade of 'Luke Purple' tomorrow morning.
"Spread your legs," he murmured, watching intently as you complied--shifting your ass and hips so that your soaking wet panties were on full display. You bit your lip shyly as Luke inhaled sharply, studying the way your squished-up belly rose and fell, the way you seemed to tremble just a little more when he took a step closer. "Good girl--You look so cute." 
He grabbed your throat, forcing you to look up at him, shushing you softly, "I know, I know, It's ok, I know, shh--" A smirk danced across his face before he leaned in, kissing you deeply, fingers feeling how wet you really were. "You're so fucking wet, aren't you embarrassed, slut?" In a quick movement, his open palm collided with your clothed pussy--sending shockwaves through your body. "Shhh...Put your hand over your mouth. Be quiet, be quiet for me." 
You shakily raised your hand to your mouth, chewing on the flesh of your middle as another slap morphed into a gentle stroke. "Are you gonna be quiet for me? Tell me. Tell me." 
"Y-Yes, Luke," you mumbled from behind your hand. His nostrils flared as his name bounced off your tongue, such a sweet sound. "I'll be quiet for you." 
"Good girl--now shut the fuck up." Luke continued to shush you as he pulled the thin cloth of your panties to the side, thumbing over your clit and dipping between your slickening folds. "Sit up there, back against the wall. Now. Good Girl. Shhh--Spread your legs for me, good girl. Just a little more, good job." 
Your sizzling hot skin left behind foggy marks on the mirror behind you as you leaned back--the coolness of the glass doing little to ease the fire inside of you. A slick layer of sweat spread across your body, pooling at the small of your back. Luke continued his teasing touches, evading your pussy and instead stroking the tender flesh beside it until you squirmed. You were breathing too loudly.
"Do you want me to touch you, baby? Then be fucking quiet, ok?" The fake sweetness left an uncomfortable pit in your stomach--but it was quickly forgotten as Luke's deft fingers circled your clit, moving in all the right ways. He knew your body too well, like the back of his hand. "This is all mine. My girl, so cute," he purred, pushing up your shirt and bra in one motion, mouthing at one of your tits as he shifted his forearm. Fingers abandoning your clit, two of them slipped between your folds--teasing and brushing over your hole before abruptly plunging inside with a curl.
"You like this, yeah? Shhh--" The pace was inhuman, the sound of your wet pussy squelching around his fingers growing louder. "You look so pretty." 
You threw your head back, trying to swallow back your whimpers and moans, hips rolling into Luke's touch. Gods, you didn't even realize how much stamina he had with how he plunged his fingers inside of you without even a slight change in pace. "Shut the fuck up, let me take care of you, it's ok, I promise. I promise baby," his cooing was mocking, each word dripping with a promise of something even more sinister than the tortured ministrations at hand. "I'm gonna fuck you so fucking hard. Aww, I can see it in your eyes, you want it so badly, yeah?" 
"Please," you couldn't stop the words from coming out of you, and Luke was quick to silence you. At this angle, you could see his biceps flexing, the way his shoulders tensed and released--it was like a daydream. His free fist wrapped around your neck, causing you to choke on air as you struggled to swallow and gasp. 
"Shh, try to be quiet, shh. Gods you're so fucking wet, you look so pretty." Somehow, he managed to up the speed even more--your toes curling and legs clamping down on his forearm as it flexed and strained to keep pleasuring you. "Do you want me to fuck you? Do you? Say it, say it." 
"Y-yes, yesyesyesyes," you cried out, only for Luke to squeeze your neck even tighter. "So close, please--" He shushed you, lips smashing against yours until your teeth clanked together in the frenzy. Tears welled and spilled your eyes from the mounting pressure in your belly, so close but so fucking far--He knew just how to play you. A flicker of concern came and went from Luke's eyes, and he pressed his body closer to yours, the fabric of his old camp shirt tickling your skin.
"Shh, I know, you're freaking out, I know," Luke pressed his lips to your tear-stained cheek, "Calm down, I know, I know. I'm just fingering you, it's ok." You could hear the faintest 'Don't cry' come out with his next breath, but you honestly couldn't be certain. His hand moved up and gripped your jaw tightly, squeezing it until you couldn't help but protest the pain--prompting him to silence you with his mouth. Tongues battling, his fingers slowed their dangerous pace, coming to a gentle stroke against your fluttering walls. A bridge of saliva kept the two of you connected, pulling tight like a tension wire before snapping as Luke took a step back to admire his work. "You're so pretty--Y'want me to pet your pretty clit, yeah?"
You nodded eagerly, trying to form the right words to scream 'Yes please!' but Luke cut you off with a harsh shush as his thumb came in contact with your puffy clit. It felt like a spell was cast over you, the way you couldn't peel your eyes off of Luke's face--his eyebrows furrowed as he worked you closer and closer to your much-needed release. Your gaze was obvious, and Luke gave you a wicked grin, quickening the pace of his deft fingers until you had to choke back your whines with a bite to your knuckle.
"This is my pussy and anyone else who tries to fuck it will never be as good as me. No one will ever measure up to me, understand me?" Luke growled, curling his fingers just right so they brushed and stroked against that special spot deep within you. You couldn't help your reaction, hips bucking and chasing your orgasm that Luke just kept skirting you away from. 
"Fuck, ff-fuck, Luke-"
"Shhh, calm down. I know, baby, I'm the only one who can fuck you like this, I know. Say it,” he taunted, a Cheshire grin beaming up at your half-lidded eyes. A dumb nod came naturally, but he tutted and pursed his lips in a sense of disappointment. “I said 'Say it'." 
"Y-You're nghhh the o-only w'can fuck m'this way," you whimpered, weepy doe eyes looking up at him for approval. It was wholly pathetic; the tears trailing down your cheeks, the way you could barely even breathe, the way you just had so much love and adoration for the boy in front of you—denying you your release and ruining you. "Please Luke, please fuck me."
"Gods, you're such a good girl, d'y'know that?" Luke groaned, slipping his fingers out of you much to your dismay. He shushed your whiney protests, dry fingers wrapping around your throat, his thumb threatening to press down on your windpipe. “Love how you beg for me.” He was so much stronger than you, so much bigger, so fucking powerful. Two slick-covered fingers made their way up to your mouth, and you eagerly accepted them with a low moan. "That's so good, baby. Keep sucking yourself off my fingers like a little slut, yeah?"
Your pink, wet tongue licked at his two digits like one would a popsicle on a hot summer day. Drool mixed with your juices on his fingers as you gagged around them, low moans threatening to spill over. It was sloppy, your soft moans vibrating his fingers as you made eye contact with your boyfriend, needing his approval. He smiled, releasing your throat so he could knead into the flesh of your thigh, his touch hot and needy. Distracted with the show you were giving Luke, it was too late before you realized just how close his cock was to your pussy—
"Ahh—W-wait, Luke," you cried out as he slammed into you, his dick sliding down to the hilt without warning. Your pussy clenched and spasmed as you tried to adjust to the size of him, hips squirming. He didn't even stop for a second, picking up a fast and dizzying pace, fingers still hooked in your mouth. Gods, he was drilling into you so hard and it just felt so good--
"Shut the fuck up, shut up, I don't care," Luke growled, his voice heavy with need. Despite his cruel words, there was an underlying tenderness in his touch, and you could feel the intensity of him growing more fervent and unhinged with each passing second. His moans filled the room, sounds that you were only ever allowed to hear. Squelches and slaps and the sickest, wettest, most depraved noises intoxicated you--And every time he hit a particularly sensitive spot within you, you couldn't help but let out a choked cry, struggling to remain silent.
"Shut your pretty fucking mouth and be fucking quiet," he demanded, his tone laced with desperation. You gave him a weak nod, but his attention was already drawn away as he changed his angle to have a little more leverage. Moans and whines dripped from Luke's tongue like honey, oozing through the room and straight down to your clenching core. His hips swung and snapped against yours, a steady and rough pace keeping you on the tip of your toes. "I'm trying to be quiet but your pussy just feels so goddamn good,” well that was just a flat-out lie at the sheer volume that he even said it. “Does my cock make you forget all your manners?" You nodded without even thinking, lips parted as you tried to catch your breath. 
"Fuck yeah," he muttered roughly, his breath hot against your cheek. You swore you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. "You want me to go faster?" he huffed, his breathing ragged. "Fuck you harder?" His voice was cracking and straining, his teeth clenching as he tried to hold back his whines and whimpers. 
Without waiting for a response, he increased his pace, grinding against you with a fierce intensity. His hands dug tightly into your hips as he pulled you closer to him, moving your body for you like all you were was some fucktoy for him to use and abuse. Choking softly on his own breaths, he fucked you harder and deeper, his rhythm becoming increasingly frantic—face buried in the crook of your neck. You couldn't help but wrap an arm around him, the other keeping you stable on the counter as he rutted and bucked into you, pulling him close to you. "Luke," you breathed out, "calm, baby."
"No no no, it’s ok, shh," his voice was trembling, fighting back a moan at just hearing you say his name so sweetly. It seemed like it was more of a reminder for him less than you, to try and keep his composure for just a few minutes more. He never wanted this to end. You guided his face to look up at you, his eyes lost behind his sweaty black curls, but his lips didn't fail to connect with yours. Nipping at his bottom lip, you moaned into him--a gesture he reciprocated eagerly. He couldn't even pull away, letting out a muffled, "'m so fuckin' close, baby. Wan' you t'cum on me--fuck, cum on my cock, baby."
“Mmmm so close,” you moaned in agreement, rolling your hips to meet his. “Please touch me, Luke.” You didn’t have to ask twice, his fingers shooting down to the junction where the two of you were connected. A rough pad dragged across your clit—rubbing almost as frantically as his hips slammed into you, your head dropping back in pure ecstasy. You were so fucking close, so close, just a little more…
He didn't scold you for how loud you were getting, he didn't even falter when your thighs began to shake and your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders until the skin broke. And he didn't stop—fucking you right through your orgasm, feeling your walls spasming around his cock, how your legs drew him in closer. Stuttered words of encouragement flooded from his mouth, but most were swallowed up and lost amongst his needy moans and grunts. His pace became erratic, shoving you back hard as one hand braced the wall and the other clawed into your hip. You yelped and shuddered, all of the stimulation crashing down on you at that moment as your pussy twitched, weeping for Luke. 
“Hah-ah, fffuucckk,” Luke whimpered into your ear, hips stuttering for half a second. "'m g'na mmmm...ahh--" He dropped his facade entirely, no longer trying to hide how his voice went 3 octaves whenever he came, eyebrows pinched together to stop himself from just melting away into the floor. The heat of him coated your walls, struggling to fit inside of you with him still taking up most of the tight space. His lips trembled as he tried his best to regain some composure, rutting his hips into you deeply once more--just to feel all of you. You whined in return, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he continued to pump into you slowly.
“Look so fucking pretty right now,” he whispered, slowing his hips to a halt after a long, torturous minute. His lips found yours, muffling your groan as he pulled out of you—the sudden emptiness was always a disappointment. You would keep him inside you all the time if it was up to you. To make matters worse, he freed himself of your iron grip, pulling away from your lips with a heavy panting shaking his chest.
It was like seeing a goddess' true form for the first time--the way your soft tummy rose and fell with each of your breaths, your lips parted and covered in drool and saliva, knees bent, toes curled as you posed there; your abused, cum-filled pretty little pussy spread open like the forbidden fruit that Tantalus could only dream of tasting. You looked like a fucking masterpiece. 
Silent, Luke sank to his knees, lost in the sight of you for only a second before hooking his arms around your thighs--dragging your ass to the end of the vanity. His flat tongue ran from bottom to top, collecting your mixed releases with a certain gentleness. You whimpered as his tongue pressed and swirled around your clit, the sensations of your last orgasm still not fully settled yet. "You are such a good girl," Luke murmured between licks. "You are so pretty, you look so fucking cute, you're adorable." 
His dark eyes looked up to meet yours, locking in as he suckled and lapped at your core. With hesitation, you reached out a hand gingerly, finding a tuft of curls to reside in--earning a purr of approval from your boyfriend. 
"I'm so proud of you," he whispered, suddenly pulling his mouth off of you so he could press a gentle kiss to the junction of your thigh and pelvis. His eyes glanced up to peer at you--seeing your gentle smile made his heart flutter and grow three sizes. A soft trail of kisses made its way to your knee, his arms still supporting you, his nose nuzzling against the soft and damp skin. "You did so good today, I'm so fucking proud of you, baby."
"I know, Luke, I know. I'm proud of you too."
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draconic-desire · 2 months
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Ad Experimentum
Yandere Dr. Ratio x Reader
Veritas catches you reading one of your dirty books.
Warnings: Implied kidnapping and forced imprisonment, NSFW scenes being read aloud, Dr. Ratio being a dick as always
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Within the confines of Veritas’s home, you feel like a mouse in a maze, reduced to a caged animal, always under scrutiny and experimentation.
Escape is impossible. Dr. Ratio has ensured that you’re never out of his reach, even though he acts as if you are the burden and he didn’t kidnap you and imprison you in his home. Sometimes you wonder why he even keeps you; surely he has better things to do than to quip at your inadequacy or lack of genius. But alas, the pretentious prick seems keen on pushing every one of your buttons to see how you tick. You might even call it intimacy if he wasn’t so clinical and judgmental about it all.
Because physical escape is impossible, you’ve turned to escaping within the confines of your own mind.
Books provided the perfect retreat. You’ve since abandoned any non-fiction to focus on fantasy, to worlds that effortlessly whisk you away. Novels that depict true, romantic love, not the twisted ownership you’ve grown used to. Like you’re some pet to be controlled and prodded at, like Pavlov’s dog, waiting and drooling for its master’s hand at the ring of a bell.
So, in your hopes to feel something real, you’ve started to delve into stories that are a bit…spicier.
With the latest read in your hand, your eyes skim hungrily over the pages as the tension between the protagonists builds. The lovers begin to undress each other, the one spreading his partner’s pussy as she grinds into his hand—
Veritas effortlessly plucks the book from your hands, earning a cry of protest. You try to snatch it back, but, with the help of his towering height, he dangles it just out of reach. “What in the heavens is this?”
The way he holds the book between his thumb and pointer finger, as if merely touching it would taint his self-proclaimed perfect set of knowledge, was almost comedic. You would laugh if he wasn’t such a condescending asshole.
Instead, you scowl. “Give it back.”
He merely hums and turns the novel in his hands, inspecting the cover. Licking his thumb, he flips to your bookmarked page and begins reading aloud. “My hand caressed her core as I speared her with two, thick fingers. She moaned and arched into my palm in response, causing my cock to twitch in anticipation. God, I wanted to taste her arousal. Her pussy was perfect, so wet and tight and ready for me to claim, to fuck.”
Embarrassment rages across your cheeks like a burn. You fling yourself at him, pounding your fists against his chest when he lifts the book out of your reach easily. “Stop, just stop.”
Amused, Dr. Ratio continues to narrate the scene in painstaking detail. “I lowered my head, letting my tongue swirl around her clit and rendering her voice to nothing but pitiful mewls. She tasted like heaven, like my own personal feast. I buried my tongue in her, then, and held her hips as she bucked into my mouth, begging for release—”
“I will do anything,” you beg, face in your palms, “just please stop.”
Finally, mercifully, Veritas closes the book and lowers it down enough for you to snatch it back. You cradle it against your chest, heart pounding and palms sweaty with a chaotic blend of shame, anger, and relief that it was over.
“This is what you indulge in while I’m working? Though you are hardly an intellectual exception, I believed you to be above this brain-rotting nonsense, (Y/n).”
In spite of your embarrassment, you boldly meet his golden eyes. “And what do you care? I enjoy it, and it’s not meant for you. Go stick your nose in a dictionary for all I care.”
“At least I’d be learning something,” he sneers in return, looking down his nose at you. He sniffs, tilting his chin up. “What do those books have that I can’t offer you?”
You still, observing his features. Now that the fun of teasing you has worn off, his eyes flare with loathing. With a jolt, you realize it is not aimed at you but at…the book?
Wordlessly, you glance between Dr. Ratio and your novel. Then, a stilted laugh escapes your lips. “Wait.. Are you seriously jealous of a book?”
“Don’t be preposterous,” he scoffs, though you notice his white-knuckled grip against the back of the armchair you were previously lounging in. “I would never stoop so low as to associate myself with that plebeian filth. I simply wanted to ascertain your reaction to it being read aloud.”
You resist the desperate urge to roll your eyes. “Fine, then. Please leave me to my uneducated filth.” You spin around, intent on finding a new place to finish your reading.
“Not so fast.” Veritas is on you quicker than a cobra, large hands gripping both your shoulders. “Perhaps all is not lost. We may yet transform this circumstance into an educational opportunity for you.”
A chill runs down your spine at the heavy touch, and a sudden sense of foreboding warns you to run. You’re all too aware you’re the mouse being fed to the snake in this moment.
Veritas spins you to face him, eyes slowly trailing down your form, as if taking you in with a new perspective. “I believe an experiment is due.”
You go rigid. “I’m sorry?”
“If you’re so intent on reading about all those fantasies in your books, let’s go ahead and put them to the test, shall we?”
At his clear implication, you yelp and make a run for it. In that moment Veritas strikes, fisting your hair with one hand and cupping your chin with the other as he presses your body flush against his own. You can already feel his hard desire digging into your back.
“Here’s my hypothesis,” he purrs in your ear. “I predict that by the end of tonight, you too will be begging for my cum, whether you want to or not.”
His theory, as always, was proven to be correct.
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
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Don’t know if i’m just crazy and power hungry right now but Vox would be so fun to absolutely fucking destroy in bed.
Like he would try so hard to be some super put together sexy daddy-dom type but it would be absolutely humiliating for him when that falls flat.
If you’re kissing and as your mouth slowly drifts down to his neck your hands creepy to the zipper of his pants. You hear his breath catch for a second as he anticipates before trying uselessly to keep the power in the dynamic.
“Well, get on with it already,” he would breathe cockily, as if it was a privilege to get to touch him.
Instead you would bite down on his neck and palm his dick through his boxers.
“A-ah, careful my dear,” he would almost be convincingly be put together if his voice didn’t glitch out at the end of the sentence.
You smirk and slip your finger under his underwear before ever so slightly pulling them down. Your hand would find its way to his dick and begin pumping it agonizingly slow.
“God, fuck ah, fuck you,” he would try to say before glitching out again.
“Do you ever stop talking, brat?” you would mumble and start stroking his dick more roughly, making him let out broken glitched out moans.
In minutes he would go from pretentious dom, to power bottom, to pathetic needy brat. By then you would have him pressed up against a wall, he would be trying, and failing, to stop from moaning or buffering,
You could even ride him and touch him through dozens of orgasm until he’s a broken mess underneath you, begging you to stop.
The famous, powerful, Vox, CEO of a one of hells most important companies, writhing underneath you. God, he would be so fun to fucking break.
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luveline · 7 months
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hi jadey!! can i request something with steve? maybe where reader used to be in a relationship where the other person made her to do all the work ( put in the groceries, clean the house, etc.) and one day steve is taking care of some of the chores and reader freaks out cause she’s the one supposed to be doing it?? it’s just an idea, no pressure lovely! hope you’re having a good day 🫶🫶
ty gorgeous! fem!reader
Steve hums when he's busy. No pretentiousness, no shame, he sings lyrics, guitar, and occasionally drums, too. You can hear him in the kitchen singing that Van Halen song he loves, his voice twisted tight as he tries to hit a high note. 
"Are you making a sandwich?" you ask hopefully, hanging your coat on the hook as you trudge in from the front door. 
You're in the kitchen before Steve's collected the wits to answer you. Your jaw falls open. 
"Hey, babe," he says. It's difficult to tell if the pet name is joking or serious, Steve in his pyjamas with his sleeves rolled up, his lips quirked into a funny smile as though he's pleased to see you but confused at the same time. "No? Did you want one?" 
"What are you doing?"
Steve holds his games up in surrender, a cloth held in the left. "I'm wiping down the counters?" 
"Why?" 
"I do this every Friday before you get home." 
"What?" 
Steve takes the cloth to the sink to rinse it out. Bleach bubbles squeeze from the fabric. "Am I doing it wrong? This is how I always do it. Wipe the counters, vacuum, mop. Why are you back so early?" 
"Steve, you don't have to clean. I… that's my job." 
"Then what's mine?" he asks, turning off the faucet and dropping the wet cloth at the bottom of the basin. He wipes his hands dry with a hand towel, ushering your forward with a gesture of his index finger. "Come here…" He wraps his arms around you. "All you do lately is work." Steve kisses your cheek three quick times. "Miss you."
You blink a little, overwhelmed, still worried. "Do I not do it right? It's okay if I don't, I can–" 
"Do what? The counters? No. I just figured it's my turn before the weekend starts and you go on your cleaning frenzy. Which isn't your job, by the way. I don't know why you think that." 
He's light-hearted, but your silence spurns him into a more serious tone. Taking your face into one still-damp palm, he narrows his eyes until they're more brown than anything else and says, "Do you really think it's your job?"
"I'm the girl." 
"And I'm so stoked about that, but…" He smiles, pulling your cheek with his thumb to encourage the same. "That's not right. Do you even like cleaning?" 
"I don't have to like it, it's housework." 
Steve can't seem to decide whether this is serious or not. He goes from smiling to frowning to impassive, his fingers rubbing a slovenly path down your cheek. Strands of hair like lace drift into his eyes as he ducks his head, his gaze on your chest. "It's housework for the house we both live in. I know you've been doing more of it since we moved in, and I'm really sorry. I'm lazier than you. I should've asked you about it, but now I've let you do more and you think you need to do all of it. I'm a dick." 
"No, you're not." 
"I'm a total dick. You think you have to clean up after me?" He brings you in for another hug. "Holy fuck, baby. I'm a grown up." 
You bristle at first, but relax the longer he holds you, his words sinking in steady. He's not criticising you; Steve is apologising and self-deprecating. You slide your arms behind his back and breathe in his smell, all things boy but with the sharp smell of bleach lingering. 
"I did it myself. You know, before. So that's why it feels like it's mine to do. Not your fault," you say into his chest. 
Steve pulls away. "Thanks, but I'm a huge dick no matter what." 
He marches you backwards and forces you back into one of the chairs at the dining table. You grab at his arms as he attempts to walk away, lifting your chin to kiss him. It distracts him for a while, the soft, slow press of his lips against yours, your hand in his hair scratching tenderly, but he can't be kept forever. Steve ends your kissing with a peck and beelines for the fridge.
"What are you doing?" you ask. 
"Making you a sandwich. Dinner and a show tonight, did I forget to tell you? You can eat the best BLT in the western hemisphere and I'm gonna vacuum the crumbs from under the toaster. Perfect Friday night, right?" 
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ew-selfish-art · 7 months
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DP x DC AU: Tim had heard the phrase 'The wrong twin made it home' a number of times in his life, his parents were always very upfront about how the felt towards him. But... 'made it home' doesn't indicate death, does it? ...Tim ends up taking Danny's place by Sam's side in front of Congress to lobby the end of the Anti-Ecto Acts.
...
Tim has been up for hours passed when he told Alfred he would be resting and he's wrapped up his case files into neat little bows to deliver to Babs and the GCPD/Lawyers to do their jobs. Damian had made a comment earlier in their patrol that night about Tim being the wrong sibling to make it to his rescue and... and it got him thinking about that phrase. His parents were negligent with him, certainly, but they were always very clear about how he stood in their eyes. Praise and criticism were the two options, and very strictly limited passes of 'I love yous' that faded as he got older.
He's run his DNA before in the national databases- it was critical for maintaining his Alias' that multiple people didn't flag- but he's never searched in records before. About his twin. About the one who didn't make it home.
And its definitely the lack of sleep, and definitely the lack of brotherly affection he feels these days, but Tim just can't close the door until he's seen a death certificate. He's hacked Gotham General Hospital a million times for work, but doing it for his own gain feels wrong some how and he works with extreme caution. He finds his own birth certificate and... One Theodore Daniel Drake.
Tim snorts with a short ha, pretentious name alert and goes on to find not a single certificate of death or medical record of atypia. Oh no, what he finds is adoption paperwork meant to be closed to all wondering eyes and one Daniel James Fenton leaving the hospital instead. Tim blinks a few times, retraces his steps and then sure enough, learns for a second time that his TWIN was still alive.
Finding the Fentons was easy enough, their Lab address on all of their patents was seemingly also their home address. Danny had a much better hidden internet presence, it was good cybersecurity he'd have to praise him, but Tim had been trained better. Getting into his brother's files... Raised a number of new questions. Why was he compiling evidence against the government? What the fuck was he doing analyzing policy? Why did he have 'rogue' files???
Then Tim hacks into Danny's phone (he's learned at this point that Daniel was a no-go) and sees the conversations between his twin and his twin's best friends.
Sam Manson has an appointment with a Senator to Lobby for the end of the Anti-Ecto Acts. She wants Danny to join her, demonstrate something Tim can't determine, but he's refusing to leave and let his adoptive parents have even a moment to develop a new weapon without him there to destroy it. Someone called CW warned him about changes coming his way or something cryptic. Tim learns a lot from their back and forth, but stops reading once it gets to their personal squabbles.
Tim gets the meeting details and forwards it to Tam- If Danny can't make it... Tim will. And if Tim can't demonstrate whatever Danny was going to, it would at least help to throw around his name.
Tim writes an email to Danny- It's meant to go out after the lobbying appointment- and it explains that Tim found out about him and wants to connect if Danny does, and if Danny doesn't he at least wants to get him set up with his half of the Drake family inheritance. He includes a few personal facts, including that he too ended up adopted in life and had siblings, that he helped run a company and took on the world too soon. It takes a lot out of Tim to be so candid- but he doesn't want Danny to be too blindsided by the Waynes. He attaches a family photo with the label "you'll be able to tell which one is me'.
...
Sam is tapping her stupid, uncomfortable heels waiting for these dumbass, elderly politicians to get their shit together so she can speak. Sam was resourceful and surprisingly, the second she took on politics as a way to waste the family money, her mother Pamela was all for it. She's wanting Sam to run for president now... At least she doesn't complain when Sam organizes protests.
The door behind her opens, and while she knows its not going to be Danny behind her, a girl can feel a bit crushed. She really thought he would be behind her today, but Danny was being weird about this whole thing. Clockwork had him spooked about something changing today, and Danny wanted to be in Amity Park in case it was another Pariah situation or something. His parents had been on edge lately too...
"Sorry, I'm not late am I?" A voice asks and it's just so close but not- Sam turns her head to see Danny in a nice suit with long hair and eyebags way darker than she'd seen on him in a while. This... Wasn't Danny. She blinks, and then something in her anxiously decides that the universe is fucking with her and she will be fighting back.
"Everyone is late." She glares at him, appraising his every move. The woman behind him is typing dedicatedly on her tablet and the man himself looks like he might fall over while he shuffles his files in hand.
"Well, then I'm on time. My name is Tim Drake, I'm here to help your cause in getting the Anti-Ecto acts repealed and the parties responsible for it apprehended."
"Tim Drake? As in-"
"As in Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises. And I've done a lot of research, so I hope you'll let me play a supportive role while you speak."
"There's no way you've been able to research if you've been out of Amity, The whole city is under a media blackout." Sam's glare looks like it could cut him.
"Not to brag, but that sort of thing doesn't slow me down these days. I've made physical copies of the things they're most likely to delete and I've sent everything to the Justice League, who in turn are sending it to the Lantern Corps." He states matter-of-factly and Sam finally stops being angry at the world to just be... stumped. What the hell was going on?
"How did you... Why?"
"Tam, tell Ms. Manson how passionate I am about human rights?" The guy sounds anxious, the woman rolls her eyes and says "Very." without stopping her typing.
The doors open and Sam has only a moment to decide that Tim can join her... He proves himself to be an asset, and his name alone gets them further than she had anticipated getting today.
....
Danny is watching Sam walk into the space via C-span, gasping when his own likeness follows behind her. What the fuck???
He can barely drag his eyes away as the clone (?) introduces himself as Tim Drake and proceeds to rip them into shreds for delaying Sam Manson of all people. Danny is transfixed and Tucker is blowing up his phone.
"DUDE ARE YOU SEEING THIS?" Tucker's voice loudly calls out the second danny blindly answers.
"Dude, I just, I don't even know? He cant be a clone right? But he's gotta be?" Danny hypothesizes.
"Nah dude, there's like, a whole lifetime of media presence for Tim Drake since he was like, tiny. This is so weird he looks just like you..."
"This is so weird." Danny dumbly agrees because he can't think of anything else to say.
Sam finishes her points, Tim submits the evidence to the court and they leave. Danny's phone pings with an email notification.
"Danny my guy, you should check that, Sam isn't responding yet. Her phone is probably still off."
He follows Tucker's advise and opening his email... Is a new message from Tim Drake.
"...I don't know what the fuck is going on?" Danny continues to say, and Tucker asks him just to read it out loud, "It's just... Apparently I am both adopted and a twin?"
"...My guy." Tucker sounds just as much at a loss.
...
Sam calls them both after Tim Drake is rushed away by his PA Tam (who she found herself admiring more and more), and is relieved when they dont immediately answer by screaming.
"So Danny, Tucker, you guys are traveling with me next weekend." Sam deadpans.
"Apparently shit gets twilight-zone level weird anytime you leave Amity!" Tucker exclaims.
"...What's next weekend?" Danny asks, hesitation in his voice.
"Your twin invited us, well, mostly you, to a Wayne Family Brunch. We're going cause those assholes have money and political influence, you're going because we all probably need to know what the fuck is going on with that guy."
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