#let alone a stranger with an audience???? THE FUCK????

[inusmasha]

Also side note if you come here (or anywhere tbh) and try to take a pic of someone else’s baby without consent best believe that I will be there to rip your stupid face off and eat it

#this fucking idiot who calls themselves an influencer because she has a popular fashion blog and mailing list #came out of treatment and saw the baby in the stroller #mom went to the br and left baby in MY care #the idiot approaches going AWWW (which scared the baby bc this idiot is being loud???) #THEY TAKE THEIR PHONE OUT TO TAKE A PIC OF THE BABY’S ONESIE #bitch lol no. #quickly I say ABSOLUTELY NOT and slap that hand away so fucking hard that phone went flying and weirdly popped out of its case #the mom comes out and the baby is upset and so is inflcuencer person #influencer doesn’t know what to say bc mom kinda saw I guess? she got the jist of what was going on and proceeded to tell the influencer- #in thee most polite way that she did not approve of HER CHILD BEING PHOTOGRAPHED BY A STRANGER???? #let alone a stranger with an audience???? THE FUCK???? #not on my watch BITCH #I’m LOOKING for reasons to let out years of pent up rage!!! GIVe ME A REASON!!!!!!!!!!!! #where is your common sense??????????? #I will literally devolve into a monkey and obliterate your ass #that child is not content #boss isn’t happy that it escalated that quickly but idc no paparazzi allowed here #take your cracked case and go home 👋🏼 and stay there #the fuck is wrong with people

[ncteez]

hi i’m very excited for the sleepover! can i request 38 with yeonjun from the prompt list

yeonjun + “I want to see you, want to watch you come.” 

wordcount: 3.5k

tags: camboy!yeonjun, cam sex obv, dirty talk, masturbation, implied anal but not in detail nor is it related to reader & yeonjun’s interaction. use of: y/n, baby, babe, pretty

note: *heavy breathing* not proof read sorry lmao

~

You weren’t exactly the type to watch dude’s jerk off online. Really you aren’t. You are, however, the type to watch Eboyfantasy jerk off though. He kind of woke something up inside of you. 

Given, in terms of porn there’s not a whole lot you hadn’t already seen and fucking avoided. Live cams and their little cash grab tricks were your least favorite and most avoided, until the cash grab got you…And it got you bad.

At this point, you don’t care how much money you’ve spent watching this stranger pleasure himself. He’s given you some of the best orgasms you’ve ever had, alone in your room, as he speaks out to a general audience. It got to the point where, you know, yeah, you made that account to watch more than just the public show. That was your first orgasm after your initial interest in the strikingly beautiful man spread out on camera with his loose, ripped up t-shirt covering what everyone wanted to see. 

You watched, and then you started typing, thirsting much like everyone else was. Wanting to be the “you’re not like other girls” girl for him, but ultimately, always being just like the other girls and men typing dirty words to him. 

Those words surely didn’t get him off, but the praise. Oh yeah, that did something. You could see the way he would close his eyes when the chat was doing nothing for him, relying on his own hand and fuck-toys to get him there. You could definitely see how his eyes would stay glued to the chat, open and shining when there was praise and money though. Things like, “So pretty, you sound so pretty like this.” or “If i send you $300 worth of coins, would you say my name?”

He always said those names, but it was never your name. That was too personal for some 1k viewers to hear from a pair of slack, moaning lips. It was something you wanted so badly at this point though. Spending half of your paycheck to keep him in that lavish bed, with all of those expensive toys to fuck into and be fucked by. 

Safe to say, you felt about as pathetic as he sounded every single time he drenched himself in his own cum. Even safer to say when you realized his recent update, claiming to offer private shows for a limited time, you felt pathetically aroused at the idea. 

Limited time, for a very limited man, with your limited ass bank account. 

God, the hours of overtime were so worth it, you think, as you sit here in front of your laptop. Unsure of what to expect, but trying to be prepared for your name to finally sound from those lips. Six hundred dollars for this was not a hard bargain when he comes on the screen, waving at you with a polite smile and a small nod. 

“One second babe, let me just grab a few things.”

You politely nod, realizing he definitely didn’t see that shit considering you’re not on camera. 

You: take your time, we have an hour!

That exclamation mark looks stupid, but it was a better option than using a fucking emoji. 

“So sweet and understanding, I should have been better prepared. You’re only my third private show, I’m not so good with someone else’s schedule–” He giggles, stepping off camera to presumably grab something. “I wouldn’t mind if you were a little annoyed with me, you know.”

You: oh? you’re into that?

You: you seemed to like praise, i didn’t want to step over a boundary.

His face comes into view as he reads, smiling with a breathy chuckle. 

“Observant, huh? I’m very adventurous. Sometimes getting everything I want can be a little boring.” 

You pause, staring at him on your screen and didn’t realize that you’d ever want to play a part for him like this. You expect him to jerk off as usual, dirty talk, and simply moan your name. But it appears he is actually putting some effort into it. 

“You didn’t mention in your request what you wanted to see? Does this mean I can decide how to fuck myself for you?”

God, the heat in your cheeks. The way your stomach flips each time you realize he’s talking to you and not a general audience. 

You: i just like it when you feel good. Would love to see how you do it when you’re not putting on a show. 

Another chuckle from him, and honestly, you’re kicking your feet out of fondness at him and his bright little smile, with his bright messy hair, and his pretty fingers. 

“You want me to just– jerk off like normal?” He tilts his head with a slight smirk. “You paid six hundred dollars to watch me finish in ten minutes when we’ve got an hour because when I’m not on cam, and i’m not getting paid, it’s just a quick cumanddone?”

Well, no. Of course not. 

You: I paid 600 dollars for you to use my name. 

“Is that what you want? Give me your name then,” He pauses, letting his loose shirt fall down his shoulder as he places a bottle of lube down onto the bed. “I’ll make it sound good. I promise.” He boasts himself up, pulling his pinky up to the camera and looking into it with doe-eyes. 

Something inside of you clicks, feeling nervous and kind of embarrassed. You can barely bear to look at the way his eyes go to your messages as you type them out at lightning speed. 

You: I’ve never done this before so I don’t know how to ask for things, you might have to help me.

You: my name is y/n. 

You: i just feel good when you do and it feels weird to say that to you one on one

“Oh, I’ll make you feel good babe,” He smiles again, lying back on his bed and presenting to you the bulge in his boxer briefs. “I’m honored to be your first.” 

Your eyes actually devour this man and the way he glances up at the camera with cheeky charm and then back down at himself, inspecting how hard he’s gotten and how hard he plans to get. 

You find yourself typing, then erasing, then typing, then erasing in this short span of silence. Of course, for him it’s entirely silent save for the music he seems to play every time he’s on camera. For you though, it’s too quiet and the air feels heavy as you watch him work that six hundred dollars out of your bank account. 

Given, he could genuinely just lay like this, with his lazy fingers caressing across his length before dragging up his chest and lifting the shirt slightly more. 

“You’re shy, I can tell.” He eventually explains, noting the lack of typing from you and probably the large amount of staring. “What made you start watching me?” 

You pause, still watching the way his movements remain lazy as he speaks to you. 

You: you just looked really pretty in the thumbnail.

“I bet you looked just as pretty watching me,” He looks down at himself, grabbing his length through the fabric and letting out a sigh of relief. “Wanted it to be you, didn’t you?.” He adds, looking straight into the camera.

And it’s normal for him, he thinks. Wondering what his viewers look like and the ratio of how many he would actually let touch him if given the chance. He gets off to the idea of being watched, gets off to the idea of someone shyly watching, and of course, gets off on the idea of someone so docile, like you, paying such a sum just to get him to moan a specific name. 

Surely, a lot of his followers are not quite up to his standard. Most of them are lonely, unable to find partners, or too socially awkward to talk to an interest outside of a paid sex-stream. He really does wonder though, how many of his viewers use his as a guilty pleasure. Working their day job as if they’re not dirty talking a computer screen in a darkened bedroom. 

“Right, babe?” He tilts his head, looking into the camera.

He’s right. 

~ 

Is it a parasocial relationship if he’s moaned your name various times through various sessions? Is it really one-sided when he asks you through the camera, drowsy voice evident and chest drenched in his own cum that, maybe, he’s looking forward to the next show? 

Are you thinking too much into it? 

Perhaps it’s the money, or perhaps he really meant it last time when he mentioned wanting to try something new if you come back to him. That something new was chuckled out of him with deep breaths of post-orgasm bliss. “I’d like to see you next time, if you’re okay with that?” 

He really thought that by suggesting that, you’d never come back. And no, he doesn’t typically ask his viewers to reveal themselves because time and time again it’s happened without his requesting it, and time and time again it has been insanely disappointing. 

You can probably imagine that he butters up all of his viewers like this, but that isn’t the case at all. What you don’t know is that, yeah, he gets a lot of private shows but none of the viewers are as polite as you. They don’t type in a way that makes them seem small, they request a lot out of him. But you, you’re really just here to enjoy the show and he can’t help but feel that like, yeah, maybe he wants to enjoy a show too. 

It felt too one sided, which is rare for him to think. Usually it’s all about him, but he’s truly made it about you. Asking what you want from him and only receiving a polite “What did you have in mind this time?” 

Is it so weird that his horny brain desperately wants to erase his curiosity about the other person on the other side of the screen? Probably.

But then, he gets that little email. The one with your name in it, paying full price yet again despite his insistence on giving you discount codes. He smiles to himself, glancing around the small shop and pretending that the job he works during the day surely pays his living compared to, well, you. 

He doesn’t even read the message because he knows damn well that you don’t place any specific instructions. You simply send money, and wait for him at the appointed time. Under the implication of what he said last time though, wanting to see you this time? He wonders if you took this week-long period to decide if you wanted to or not. 

The show is set for the next day at eight in the evening. A bit early, considering he gets off of work at six tomorrow. He won't have a whole lot of time to eat his dinner and clean up for it, but he will make it work.  

That, he does. Rushing home the next day and immediately throwing himself into the shower to get the smell of spilled drinks off of him. He makes a quick snack just to get him through too, and within a perfect time frame, he’s at his set up, waiting for the clock to pass the last five minutes before he will need to be emailing you that private link to join. 

He feels a little silly acting like this though. Normally, he would decline a show that makes him rush through his day. Normally, he’s not reaching out to see who the person he’s been fucking himself for is. Normally, his heart isn't racing at the idea that he’s either going to be real fucking disappointed tonight, or real fucking turned on. 

Send link.

And now, he waits, and waits. Honestly, the span of seconds between 8:00pm and 8:01pm was a bit too long for his liking, but you join, and once again, you do not type before he speaks. 

“I didn’t think you’d come back this time,” He smiles as he says your name to you, feeling his insides shake a little bit. “And it’s officially our tenth show, so we should celebrate!” 

You’re quite literally panicked upon seeing him again. His hair is a different color this time, but still just as pretty. His lips are especially plump today, and his eyes are shining much like they always do. You, on the other hand, are sitting here in your brand new fucking pair of lingerie, with your hair and face all made up just in case he asks again to see you. 

Because maybe that means he will moan your name even louder. Or maybe, you know, he’ll like your name a little more. 

You: celebrate how? 

“I dunno,” He shrugs looking around the room before getting up and closer to the camera. “I’d still like to see who matches the name I continuously fuck myself to.”

A wave of arousal flows through you. His confidence never failing to minimize your own. Even if this is your tenth show, you think you’ll always feel seen by him despite never seeing you. 

“Would you be okay with that?” He backs away from the camera now, presenting himself to you much like he always did. Lying back, propped up on pillows, hand gripping his length from under thin fabric. “I just want to see who makes me this hard simply by requesting me.” 

Another wave runs through you. 

“If you’re too shy though, babe, it’s okay.” He smiles reassuringly. “I’d be happy to show you how much I like you anyway.” His grip against his length grows tighter. 

You: i’ll show you.

Honestly, you thought it would take much more effort on your part to admit that you’re interested in his reaction to you. Plus, you’ve spent so much money on him, and you didn’t spend even more to have this set of lingerie go unnoticed by him. 

“Yeah?” He smiles wider than you’ve ever seen. A crooked look on his face, blinking bashfully at the camera. “I’ll send a request to see you then, is that okay?” 

You freeze a bit at the thought that, as much as you want to show him, you’re still fucking shy.

“Would you rather let me hear you first?” He offers now, leaning forward to his set up and darting his eyes across the screen. 

You: i would feel better if it’s just my voice first. 

He nods and immediately you get the notification that he’s requesting to hear you. 

“Hi baby,” He says after you accept, listening hard and preparing for what you’re going to sound like. Upon you saying nothing though, he continues. “So shy still?” 

You work up the courage. 

“Hi,” You start, suddenly needing to cough, or choke, or die, really. “I’m sorry, this is another thing i’ve never really done before.”

Good lord the softness that comes with that voice could only belong to a person he would absolutely fuck himself to on or off camera.

“Such a sweet voice.” He says, trailing off a bit as he leans himself back in position and this time, immediately trails his fingers down his pants. “After all this time, this is what she sounds like?”

The heat pooling at the apples of your cheeks is almost painful. It feels sore almost with the way he compliments you without issue. 

“You must sound so, so good, moaning.”

God, you forgot how to talk. You forgot how to breathe. 

“It’s okay, just watch me.” He reassures your lack of speaking, clinging to that single sentence you gave to him before letting his thoughts run wild at what your tone would sound like hiccupping moans through deep thrusts. 

You must feel so embarrassed, and that’s hot. You’re not as embarrassing as he is, already with a pathetic and leaking cock twitching against his fingers for more of the touch, and more of your voice. He holds his fingers back a bit, nearly whimpering at the situation before his hips chase up and into his hand. 

You’re a little bit shocked watching him, appearing far more desperate than he normally is. 

“You look–” You start, taking a small breath to encourage yourself to continue. “So good right now.”

“Mm,” He hums, one arm reaching somewhere off camera to grab his presumed favorite pocket pussy. The one you always seem to respond well to because of the way he fucks it. “Gonna show you something.”

God, he always has something to show you and you never get fucking tired of it. 

You watch him, for the first time not having to lube up his toy. He removes his shirt, and tugs his briefs down to his ankles before sitting himself up and instantly sliding the toy down on him. You watch his lips quiver, biting slightly and reddening his lips further than normal. You watch the way his legs writhe at the sudden pleasure, and the way his eyebrows furrow in relief as he buries himself into the toy and holds it in place. As if it needs to adjust, or maybe, as if he needs to take it slow. 

“This is what you do to me,” he whispers more to himself than to you, but definitely loud enough for you to hear. “Without seeing you, even before hearing you, I want to do this for you so bad.”

Good fucking god. 

“Do you get yourself off watching me?” He asks, more for reassurance because he knows damn fucking well that you do. 

“Every time.” You say shortly, already feeling entirely too sensitive as you watch him and try not to completely drench the panties you’re wearing. “Without fail.”

He hums again with a smile, holding the toy in place as his hips very slowly fuck in and out of the pussy that he wishes belong to you. 

“I want to see you,” He groans out, feeling the slide of his cock hitting every single bump the toy offers. “Want to see you come, want to hear you when it happens.”

The way you’re so turned on by now that you honestly do not fucking care about the embarrassment. You’re desperate, watching him hold his hips back but still try and chase a feeling of pleasure as he listens to the small amount you offer him. 

“Please, y/n?” He very nearly whines out, licking his bottom lip and fucking up a bit faster, deeper, into the toy. “You can let me see you slide those pretty fingers in and out of you, please, I’ll guide you the whole time. I’ll make you feel good.”

The pleading, the image, the fact that he can hear the gasp you take in at his assault of words. 

“Request it,” You say softly, trying to pretend that you’re absolutely not fucking insane right now. 

It would be funny if you weren’t so turned on, with the way he holds the toy with his cock buried into it and nearly leaps for his set up. The request comes faster than you thought possible and you have to fucking force yourself not to think about it before accepting it.

And there he is. 

And there you are. 

For a moment, you almost lose momentum with the way he freezes, the toy sliding off of his length as he runs both hands through his hair at the image that pops up on the screen. 

You almost want to end the session. You almost want to bury yourself a hole and lay in it.

“Fuck, y/n.” He groans, staring straight at you and the way you have yourself sitting awkwardly, all made up, with a dainty bra, and even daintier panties. “Can you lean back and spread your legs for me?” 

The way he says it so shamelessly has you doing it for him, just as shamelessly. 

“God, look how wet you are for me baby,” he groans, reaching down to grab his toy and slide it directly back onto his length, all while staring at you. “I knew you’d be pretty, but this…”

That hole you were going to dig for yourself? Scratch that. 

“Is this okay?” You say as you lean back and keep your legs spread for him, trying to keep your voice from shaking as you intentionally avoid his compliments out of fear that you’d orgasm on the spot. 

He seethes out a moan through his teeth, his eyes staring straight at your entire being before landing right back between your legs. Then, he resumes his position, unintentionally burying himself into the toy as he stares at you with a nod. 

“More than okay,” He says in a moan, unbelievably surprised at how much he finds you attractive. “Can you use your fingers? Can you show me how you’d want me to fuck you?”

Reluctantly, you give him a nod, already well aware that he’s fucking that toy of his as if it’s you. 

“I’ll do whatever you want, just tell me.” You respond.

God, he thinks this might be dangerous. 

#yeonjun smut #txt smut #[sleepover] #[yeonjun] #hyuk4ngel

[cleoluvrr]

Smarty II (Rafe Cameron x OC)

SYNOPSIS: smart girl isn’t as smart as rafe cameron.

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, toxic relationship, domestic violence, verbal abuse, blackmail, jealousy, general violence, manipulative behavior, explicit language, substance abuse & addiction, use of guns, mentions of past crimes, obsession, controlling behavior, pouge!oc

masterlist

I remember the first time Rafe Cameron hit me.

It was a couple days after my eighteenth birthday, the two of us alone at Tannyhill. I hadn’t spoken to him in those days out of irritation, the memory of my birthday ending in disaster haunting me every time I closed my eyes.

Rafe threw me a big party at one of his father’s empty properties, the unused house filled with teens and young adults, drinking and singing along to music of my choosing. There was a table stacked with gifts from both friends and strangers alike, the phrase “happy birthday” was imprinted into my mind from the countless times I heard it that night.

I wore a pretty, pink dress–one that Rafe bought me specifically for that day. He told me I looked like a princess, and that was all the convincing I needed to put it on.

Rafe was supposed to drive me home that night after the party died down. He was supposed to kiss me sweetly on my doorstep before I went inside and tell me how beautiful I am.

Instead, he drove us deep into the Cut, claiming that he needed to run a quick errand before he dropped me off. I already knew where we were going–he had taken me plenty of times before–and it annoyed me greatly.

He was already high enough, his blown out pupils and constant sniffing the only evidence I needed to know. The fact that his priority was going to his drug dealer’s house made me upset, and I let him know that.

Rafe was irrational when he was high, but I didn’t think he would kick me out of his car and leave me stranded at the house of the guy that supplied his blow. 

It was dark out, the moon high in the sky as the night stretched on. All of my friends were drunk off their ass, my parents were asleep, and there were no car services running in that area at two in the morning. My boyfriend was long gone and despite the offer, I refused to get in a car with the man that sold drugs to teenagers for a living.

It was a relief when Kelce pulled up to me on the side of the road that night. I don’t remember how long I had been walking, but I do remember how grateful I was.

I also remember how much I wished I just kept walking home instead.

“Go away, Rafe! You’re scaring me!” I yelled from behind the door. The wood vibrated against my back as the man on the other side beat against it with his fist, my heart jumping every time it connected with the surface I pressed myself against.

“Open this fucking door!” Rafe’s voice was loud and angry even through the thick wood of the old house. 

My heart nearly jumped out of my body when he shook the doorknob with a terrifying strength, the entire frame shaking violently as he pulled against it with what I’m sure is his entire body weight. My hand flew to my mouth to keep the fearful yelp from escaping my lips after I felt the force of his foot kicking against the door.

I felt like I was in a horror movie–like I was Wendy and Rafe was Jack. I could feel the eyes of the audience watching in horror as I hid in a room with my boyfriend on the other side out for my blood. 

The sound of the door frame splintering drew a scream out of me, one that I couldn’t hide as I flung myself off the door. There was nowhere I could hide from the blonde on the other side, the room bare of any hiding spots other than the long table in the center. I ran to the part of the room farthest from the door, eager to put as much distance between the pulsating door and I as possible.

I watched in horror as the door flew open a few yards away, the wood by the handle splintering as Rafe’s foot made contact. 

“Rafe, please!” I squeaked out when he caught my eye. The fuming nineteen-year-old ignores my pleads, long legs making record time as the long strides carry him to me. “Please! Just–just calm down!”

I moved around the table, nearly stumbling over my own feet as I held my arms out in defense against Rafe who was fast approaching. 

“You’re dead.” Rafe grits through his teeth. His finger raises to point at me as an aid to emphasize his point, the other hand shoving the chairs I moved to block his path back under the table carelessly. “You hear me? You’re fucking dead!”

Spotting the open door just a few feet away, I take a final glance at the man before making an attempt to bolt for it.

I knew I wasn’t fast enough–the move was quite predictable and I‘m sure Rafe saw it coming from a mile away. I barely took four steps towards the frame before I felt his fingers grip the back of my shirt, the movement jerking me backwards and right into Rafe’s arms.

I felt my body hit the wall shortly after, the hard surface colliding with my body leaving a sharp pain in my side and arm as I’m thrown against it disgracefully. I don’t get the chance to recover before I feel a familiar hand make contact with the side of my head and press it into the cool surface of the wall. My body shivers from the sudden change in temperature, cheek flat against the patterned surface as Rafe holds me there in a bone crushing grip. 

“You think I’m stupid? You thought I wouldn’t find out?” The blonde says into my ear roughly, the feeling of his breath brushing against my ear giving me goosebumps. I shook my head the best I could under his hold, wincing as he pressed my head harder into the wall.

“Rafe, it’s not like that–”

I feel Rafe’s fingers move from the side of my face and take home in the roots of my hair, nails scratching against my scalp as he grips the strands by the base. He yanks me away from the wall by the hair balled up in his fist and I yelp in pain. 

“Huh?” Rafe forces me to meet his gaze, eyes glaring down at me angrily. “It’s not like what? You weren’t texting my friend behind my back? I’m imagining shit now?”

“Yes!” The worse slipped out faster than I could stop it, regret immediately filling my body as I held my own hand over Rafe’s that has found home in my now tender scalp. “No, Rafe. You’re just–it’s just a misunderstanding!”

Rafe digs into the depths of his pocket, scoffing at me in disgust as he does so. He pulls out a phone; my phone. The pink case catches my attention immediately as he unlocks the device with my own scared face. 

He already knew the passcode, the action was just one to show his power over me in the moment.

I watch him silently school through my text messages as I tremble in his arms, struggling to hold myself up in the strange and uncomfortable position. The screen reflects off his blue eyes as he reads through my conversations, the concept of privacy no longer.

“‘Thanks for the help, Kelce. I really needed that.’” He reads off the text I sent to his friend late last night. His eyes flicker up to mine, the depths of them filled with jealous rage as he forces me to stare into them. “What the fuck were doing texting my friend at two in the morning?”

“I was texting him because you left me stranded in the Cut with your drug dealer at two in the fucking morning, Rafe!” I snapped at him, the fear quickly turning into anger and frustration as he accused me of doing anything else. “Not that you would remember; you were too coked out to care about anything but yourself.”

I should have left him right then, but I didn’t. And It was no surprise that it would continue to happen.

Instead, I sit behind these grand, white walls of Tannyhill, eyes glued to the picture frame on Rafe’s desk.

He was working silently in front of me, fingers making quick work of the keyboard as his own eyes flicker back and forth from the computer screen to the papers spread across the dark wood of the desk that was once his father’s.

I looked so happy in that pretty, pink dress. A smile that stretched a mile wide grazed my lips as Rafe embraced me from behind, a fond look in his eye as he looked down at my glowing face.

The memories of those days would flood my mind the moment I set eyes on this house, which is why I couldn’t stand being here. I couldn’t live a life in a house where I can remember every room I’ve been beaten and berated in during one of my boyfriend’s coke induced rages.

Sighing heavily, I tear my eyes away from the picture and lean back onto the firm couch I was seated in. I try to hide the wince caused by the sharpness in my side as I move, ribs flaring up in pain once again. 

Rafe does not take being disrespected lightly–not by anyone. I already knew that before I said what I did a few nights before, and I also knew the consequences. 

I shouldn’t have been surprised when I woke up just a few hours later with him standing over me, the darkness of his looming figure making my heart stop for just a few seconds before I realized it was him. I should have known he would show crossed on God-knows-what, the mixture of substances increasing his hostility tenfold.

I didn’t fight against it when he ripped me out of the bed with a fistful of my hair, or when he threw me against my dresser, the sharp corner digging to my side as I was shoved into the piece of furniture. Rafe is bigger than I am, his strength outmatches mine dangerously; there was simply no point. I didn't cry out for help when his calloused palm struck my face the first time, nor the second time. 

When he told me to apologize, I did. When he went through my wardrobe and ripped apart all the outfits I’d been scolded by him for wearing to work, I said nothing. I stood silently as I watched the ruined fabrics pile up on the ground in front of me. When he told me that I was lucky to have him because no one else would want a girl that dresses like a prostitute, I didn’t argue.

I didn’t resist it because it would only make things worse for me. It always did.

He kissed me goodnight and I kissed him back like nothing happened, the ache in my side burning hot as he traced the stinging skin of my cheek where his heavy hand met my face just a few moments before.

I used to fight back in the beginning. I would kick, bite, scratch, scream. I would threaten to leave if he did it again, to tell the police and give them all the evidence.

“Who would believe you?” Is what he told me, and he was right.

Who would believe some random, middle-class girl over Ward Cameron’s son? On what planet would Ward ever allow his family’s name to be tainted by his son being arrested for hitting his girlfriend?

The defeat I felt is something I still cannot describe.

“Laia?” I snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of Rafe’s voice. My eyes land on him behind the desk, a hum leaving my lips in response. “You okay?”

I nodded my head, afraid that I’d whimper in pain from the rib that is surely bruised by his own doing. I pulled my hand away from the sore spot slowly, teeth clenching together to keep my face expressionless. 

It doesn’t go unnoticed by my boyfriend, blue eyes flickering down to the hand that I’ve removed from my side and back up to my face. He says nothing for a moment, just allowing our eyes to hold each other tensely.

“Come here.”

I stare at him for a long few five seconds before moving, ribs screaming as I stand up from my seat on the leather couch. I walk over to the blonde behind the desk, awkwardly standing in front of him as I await further instruction.

Rafe reaches forward to place his hands on my waist, the warm prints of his fingers pressed firmly into the skin under my top as he pulls me closer. He angles me sideways slightly, hand moving to lift up my shirt. He just stares silently for a minute as he analyzes the bruise, eyes glued to the large spot spread over my skin.

I knew exactly what it looked like; I’d been staring at it for three days and watching it change color as the time passed. It was big and splotchy, a mixture of yellow, red, and purple in a somewhat rectangular shape displayed across my left rib cage. It was nasty, and I’m sure Rafe thought the same.

“Damn, baby…” He finally breaks the silence. “I did this?” He looks up at me, eyes meeting mine as he waits for an answer.

I nodded my head again.

Rafe drags his gaze back down to the bruise, a look of both awe and pity covering his face. I flinch when his fingers move to trance over the perimeter of the bruise, sucking in a sharp breath of both pain and surprise from the lack of warning. The hand that grips my waist tightens, keeping me still as he studies it closer. 

Leaning into me, he brings his face to my side. I feel his soft lips press into the discolored skin, a gentle kiss that leaves me breathless for a moment. The gesture was something he did often; sweet kisses to cover the bruises he leaves behind.

It was poetic almost–like a band-aid over a bullet hole, or a drop of water in a wilted garden.

“You know I love you,” Rafe pulls away slightly, eyes peeking up to stare into mine. “Right?”

“I love you, too.” The words leave my mouth quietly, the phrase feeling at home on my lips. 

The blonde leans back into the chair and pulls me with him, his once open lap now occupied by me as I’m given no choice but to sit. The hand that was used to trace over the ache in my side rises to my face, the same palm he used to strike me now cupping my cheek warmly, thumb stroking over the skin softly. 

I’m tempted to lean into the familiar feeling, but I don’t, instead sitting stiffly on his thighs as he caresses my face. 

“You know I don’t like doing that–I hate it.” I nod my head at him wordlessly, the sight of his striking, blue eyes leaving me unable to speak. “But you just don’t give me a choice. I just…You make me so angry sometimes, Laia. And–and you do it on purpose.” He looks at me with an expression of both exasperation and desperation, head shaking from side to side as he speaks.

He wasn’t wrong–sometimes I did make him mad on purpose. Never over anything serious, only things like calling his favorite show boring or saying his outfit didn’t match. Little things that we would laugh about later.

This wasn’t one of those times.

I nodded anyway, choosing to maintain my silence in place of verbal response. It was just easier to get through it that way.

“All of our actions have consequences, baby.” He continues on, the familiar phrase vibrating against my eardrums. “You knew better than to say that, but you did it anyway. Do you not respect me?”

“I do…” I say quietly, a defensive tone barely present in my voice. 

“So why would you think it’s okay to say something like that to me?”

I didn’t know how to respond to him truthfully without him getting angry again. I said it because that’s what I thought at that moment.

“I said I was sorry…” My eyes dropped from his gaze, instead choosing to hold contact with my own hands as they twitched nervously in my lap. “I just…you were calling me names, and–and it made me really mad because I didn’t do anything wrong!” My voice barely raised an octave, but it was still enough to convey my frustration. 

“You’re right.” Rafe nods his head at me in response. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You looked very beautiful in that outfit and it’s not your fault that other guys can’t keep their eyes off you. I was being mean and I’m sorry for that.”

Rafe traces over my lips with his thumb, the warm digit gently smoothing out the pout that had appeared on my face. 

“But it’s not safe for you to be dressed like that around a bunch of gross, strange men you don’t know all day. You haven’t heard the things they say about you, but I have. It makes me sick.” He says with concern.

I look at him confused, unsure of what he’s talking about. All my customers have been nothing but respectful towards me, the implication of them being anything else but that leaving me puzzled.

“It scares me to think about what could happen if I weren’t there to watch over you…I just want you to be safe. I know you think I’m hovering; I know you think it’s annoying and ‘controlling.’” Rafe’s worry seems to be genuine, the crease between his brows deepening as he looks up at me in his lap. “I know that. But how else am I supposed to make sure nothing bad happens to you?”

“I can take care of myself, Rafe.”

“I know you think that, Laia. I’m not saying that you can’t, either.” My boyfriend shakes his head at me as he speaks. “You’re a smart girl, but you don’t know everything. I’m a guy–I know how guys think. Sometimes I know better than you do, and sometimes you should listen to me. Okay?”

I say nothing for a moment. There was a slight tension in the air and I could feel his eyes on me.

My eyes remained fixated on the fingers in my lap, nails picking at each other mindlessly. My gaze is pulled away from the digits by Rafe’s knuckles underneath my chin, my eyes forced to keep contact with his instead as he awaits my response.

“Okay?” He repeats the word a second time, not accepting my silence as an answer.

“Okay.” I say quietly.

Rafe nods his head at me, the fingers keeping my chin in place moving to tuck a loose braid behind my ear.

“And I’m sorry I hurt you this bad; I should have been more careful.” He says, referring to the big, fat bruise hidden beneath my shirt. “I was high and I–I shouldn’t have come over when I was like that. I went too far.”

Rafe says that every time this happens. He always has an excuse, whether he’s sober or higher than the moon that lights our sky at night. But I always accept it.

Maybe I was stupid for that, but it would be a lie to say that I cared. 

He was remorseful every time, I could see that it hurt him to see the pain he caused me after he finally calmed down. He would always apologize, and I would accept it because I knew he was really sorry–even if I knew it would probably happen again. 

I loved him too much to leave. I’d been with him for almost four years; he was my first kiss, my first date, my first–and only–boyfriend. I promised myself to him, the diamond ring with our names engraved inside had been sitting heavy on my finger for two of those years. I helped him through his darkest moments; through his cocaine addiction, when he got kicked out of his house, when his dad died. I was there for all of it.

This relationship meant too much to me to let it go–Rafe meant too much to me. It’s why I allowed so many things that people say I shouldn’t, why I allowed myself to be treated in a way that would make me pity someone else if they were going through the same thing.

I was strong enough to handle it all, even if it left me feeling drained at the end of the day. To me, it was a small price to pay.

“I don’t like being so rough with you, but I feel like it’s the only way you’ll listen to me.” Rafe sounds disappointed, though I’m not sure if it’s in himself or in me. “I don’t like it, but if that’s what I have to do, then that’s what’s going to happen. Clearly, it’s working.”

Rafe’s eye’s trail down to my outfit, silently approving the choice. The big, pink sweater I found at the back of my closet was far from seasonal, but I needed something to cover the bruises that littered my arms and body. The plaid skirt I paired with it was something Rafe bought for me a few weeks ago; I chose it because I wouldn’t have to worry about him not liking it.

“My sweet girl…” He says softly. His strong arms wrap around me firmly, careful to avoid the spot that I’d been nursing all day. “You’re just so perfect for me.”

I allowed myself to melt into him, the stiffness of my body gone as I accepted his warm embrace.

#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron #drew starkey #dark rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx fanfiction #obx1 #obx2 #obx3

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Of Apples and Moss Beds (M) ~Felix [ft. Hyunjin]

Pairing: Werewolf!Felix x Werewolf!AFAB.Reader x Werewolf!Hyunjin Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Angst | Fluff | Strangers to Lovers | Soulmate AU? Word Count: ~15k | AO3 Synopsis: Felix’s crude reality made it so he hardly dwelled on the fact that he was alone. He never would’ve imagined he’d find a loving family of his own, or that he would be capable of imprinting and finding a soulmate, let alone two. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series. you don’t need to read the other instalments to understand this piece]. Warnings (SO MANY):  Felix’s POV · few descriptives of the reader such as: has big naturals, is older than Felix, is nonbinary/doesn’t care about gender (use of they/she pronouns, even in the same sentence) · mentions of child abuse · LGBTQ+ themes · it takes a WHILE for the reader to make an appearance oops there’s just a lot of backstory and exposition, y’all know i can’t shut the fuck up · pet names (baby, prince, darling, dear, pup, etc, so many pet names, god…) · polyamory · member x member action (suggestive mostly, and explicit with reader included) · nothing about this piece is straight just like any Felix-centric piece should be honestly/j · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Author’s Note: so… i woke up one day and this just… happened. most of it came out of me way too fast, and honestly i’m sure i was either possessed, maniac, or in a very intense moment of hyperfocus. anyway,  this piece is a bit different than what i usually do. i really wanted to challenge myself to write a poly relationship into my werewolf au and hyunlix just made sense to me. it was my first time writing such a dynamic–let alone a threesome–with this much detail, so i hope i did okay. regardless, i really like the direction this took, i’m really happy with it, and i hope the amount of member x member stuff doesn’t prevent anyway from enjoying this. as usual, don’t hesitate to let me know what you think💜 [special thanks to my one and only, my soulmate, and best friend for reading this before anyone else and providing her much valued insight]

Smut Warnings: a foot goes on someone’s private parts (MxM) but it’s mild/just teasing and super short and probably mostly harmless to the point where i’m not even sure it counts as a smut warning but i prefer to be safe than sorry · reader is a dom · oral (F&M.Rec) · breast/nipple play (F&M.Rec) · protected penetration [piv] · threesome · degradation (M.Rec. bitch, slut, etc are used) · face slapping (M.Rec) · some praising · snowballing. 

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Felix had never been much of a believer when it came to imprinting and soulmates. He was never much of a believer of anything, to be honest. There was no time to fill his head with the improbable when he had to spend all his energy trying to survive.

When he was very young, Felix was kicked out of his childhood pack. To this day, he still believed it had all been completely unfair, leaving a pup werewolf completely alone in the world to deal with all that distress. They claimed it was all for the best, that he was throwing off the ecosystem they had built in the pack, that he was being disrespectful. 

What did he do? He simply denied their alpha’s advances. Felix wouldn’t know exactly just how fucked up his childhood pack was until he eventually met other wolves, but even at the time his pack’s alpha’s claims that all betas and omegas were his to ‘use’ –yes, he would use exactly the word ‘use’–just sounded wrong to Felix. The man would always say that anyone that denied him would suffer the consequences. 

Felix was a pup, a child, and even if he didn’t know how fucked up it all was at the time, he just didn’t want to do it. So he fought back, he denied every single one of his alpha’s advances as swiftly and discreetly as he could, always worming his way out of it.

Eventually, though, the man found out. He realised Felix was defying his authority, and the moment he realised that, he held his power over Felix’s head. ‘If you won’t submit then you’ll have to leave and become a packless bastard’. 

The man was smug when he said it, Felix could still remember it as if it happened yesterday. How he was scared out of his mind, fighting every single instinct telling him to submit, but he stood his ground, uncaring of the consequences of his actions. ‘I won’t submit to you. Not now, not ever’. 

So his alpha delivered. Him and his goons kicked him out–not before giving him the beating of his life, of course. But the worst part was that Felix’s parents didn’t do anything to stop it. No one did. This man had ingrained his toxic, abusive dynamic of submission into his pack so heavily no one dared say a word.

So Felix was left alone in the world when he was barely even a teen. 

The first few weeks were tough. Oftentimes, he would shift into his wolf form and forage whatever he could to sustain himself; he spent so much time as a wolf that he’d sometimes forget he had a human side to him, too. Those moments wouldn’t last long, only a couple of seconds, but it always left him incredibly shaken when he could feel his humanity slipping between his fingers. 

After months of roaming and wandering on his own, Felix started to realise why wolves lived in packs. He thought it was all bullshit before, but being a lone wolf without a pack left one in a weird and fragile state of mind. It left one paranoid, volatile, mad, and although he wasn’t quite sure how the mysticism of it worked, he realised he wasn’t quite right in the head at the time.

And then he met Hyunjin. 

Felix truly never believed in imprinting and soulmates, but if such a thing existed, he was sure Hyunjin was his, or at least, that was how it felt at the time.

It happened in the forest. He had just turned fifteen, he’d spent years out there on his own by this point, and as Felix laid next to a stream, devouring the remnants of his hunt, he felt a presence.

Oddly enough, he hadn’t encountered another wolf this close in years, and the sudden appearance of one made him snarl, made his fur puff up, made him want to appear imposing and commanding as if he wasn’t a measly beta teen-wolf with no pack of his own.

The wolf did recoil a bit, but it didn’t leave, it just looked at Felix with a curious glint in its eyes. And after a few moments of no movement, when Felix’s instinct to fight subsided a bit, his mind cleared slightly. 

A quick sniff and he knew immediately. Another werewolf, and an omega at that. And maybe it was that last fact that made Felix relax just the smallest bit; if it came to it, he was sure he could take that omega in a fight and win.

The other werewolf approached him, tentatively, slowly, and for some reason, Felix didn’t move. It wasn’t that he felt scared or intimidated by them, he just… Didn’t feel threatened. So he let them come close. Not too close, though. 

They sniffed him, and Felix did the same, getting hit by their scent, a strange mix of apples and pears. It was… Nice. But then the werewolf was getting way too close for his comfort, so Felix growled at them, scaring them into running away.

As soon as they were gone, he wished he hadn’t growled at all. He should’ve snarled or attempted to nip, not full on growl the way he did. Regardless, the werewolf was gone, and Felix was left once again on his own.

At least for a while.

Felix remained in that forest, foolishly hoping to see that wolf again. And it was a few days later, as he laid next to the same stream, at the exact same place he had been before, that he heard the rustle of leaves. This time, though, it wasn’t a wolf that came from between the trees, it was a boy. A lanky boy, probably around his age, seemingly normal, if not for the fact that he smelt like apples and pears.

It was honestly almost pathetic how Felix’s tail started to wag as soon as he saw the boy. If the other asked, he’d blame it on how long he had spent all alone out here.

“Hey…” The boy approached him, slowly, with his hands in the air as if to show Felix that he meant no harm, and somehow, Felix believed it. “I’m Hyunjin. I saw you the other day…”

Felix just looked at him for a moment. When was the last time a person had spoken to him out of their own will? He’d spoken with street vendors and kiosk owners and gym attendants, but that was all transactional. This boy, this Hyunjin, was talking to him, directly, and it made him feel oddly giddy.

So Felix shifted back into his human form. How many days had it been since he stood on his legs? Too many, probably. If the aches he felt were anything to go by.

“I’m… Felix”, his voice cracked a bit. It had been doing that a lot these days. His voice seemed to be constantly dancing between a high and a low pitch, and he simply blamed it on puberty.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I was hoping I’d find you here again”, Hyunjin regarded him with a small smile, and he’d lie if he said it didn’t make his heart skip a beat. “Do you… Need any help?”

“I’m fine”, was he? Was he fine? Felix was used to his way of life, but did that mean he was fine? That was something he didn’t want to discuss with a stranger, though, so he settled for fine.

“You don’t look fine”, Hyunjin looked him up and down, and it made Felix scoff in return.

Sitting cross-legged on the grass, bare as he was, Felix stared at Hyunjin, mustering his most confident tone. “Maybe you should get your eyes checked, then”.

It was Hyunjin’s turn to scoff now. Nevertheless, he walked closer. Felix tensed a bit, not used to having people so close to him, but he let Hyunjin sit on the grass in front of him, keeping his fair distance.

“Your scent smells, like, super distressed. You know that, right?”

Felix felt himself flush at his words. No, he didn’t know that. He was super confident he was one hundred percent fine… Wasn’t he?

“Anyway, this might be a bit forward, and weird, but I got worried the other day when I saw you here. I’d never seen a lone wolf, much less one so young… Before I knew it, I was in this forest again looking for you”.

“How’d you know I was a lone wolf?” Felix asked him, slightly incredulous. 

Hyunjin shrugged, and he offered Felix a small smile. “You don’t have any trace of anyone else’s scent. Usually there’s a bit there from friends, family…”

Very quickly, Felix realised Hyunjin was… Nice. He had a way of talking that might’ve passed as rude to some people, and sometimes he was rude, especially because of the tone in his voice, but who wasn’t a bit rude these days?

Felix didn’t speak much that day, he simply listened to whatever Hyunjin had to say. He did have a pack, one he wasn’t particularly fond of. ‘Nothing too crazy, they just don’t like people like me’, he’d told Felix. He wasn’t entirely sure what Hyunjin meant by that, and he was too self-conscious that day to ask, so he filed it for later, either for when he found the courage to ask directly or for when Hyunjin had given him enough context clues for him to understand.

Hyunjin liked to draw, to paint, he was the pure embodiment of an artist, and the more he and Felix met in this spot in the forest, the more Felix got to see that side of him.

They met often, at least thrice a week. Hyunjin would always bring Felix food or clothes or puzzles to keep himself entertained. He eventually started to come with his art supplies, sitting in silence with Felix as he drew or painted something that he’d never let Felix see because he was too embarrassed. ‘It’s not good. I’ll show you when they’re good’.

Felix was sure whatever he did was amazing, but he didn’t push his friend. Because that was what Hyunjin had turned into after a couple of months meeting in the forest. A friend. It helped Felix feel like he belonged somewhere again. Even if it was just as a background character in Hyunjin’s life, he could feel his humanity slowly, but surely, coming back to him.

“Ugh, exams are the worst. I just don’t understand chemistry. What even is a mole anyway?” Hyunjin had been rambling about school a lot today, and Felix simply listened to him, lending him his ears to vent into.

“Wait, now that I think about it…” Hyunjin said after a while, looking away from his sketchbook. “What school are you going to?”

“I’m not going to school”, Felix kept his eyes focused on the Rubik’s cube in his hand, trying to figure out how to build one face of the cube without messing up the other.

“What?”

“I haven’t gone to school in years”, Felix shrugged. “I used to shift and sneak into this public school close to the town hall a few years back, so I did learn a bunch, but I couldn’t do it anymore after I started growing and my wolf form just wouldn’t pass as a dog anymore”.

Felix had told Hyunjin of his past, of everything that happened to him in his childhood pack. He could still remember the horrified look on his face as he told him. And honestly, Felix couldn’t blame him for being shocked and horrified by his story. The more he grew up, the more Felix understood the high levels of fucked up that pack’s structure had.

“Why don’t you go as a human?”

Felix scoffed at that, starting to get frustrated with the cube in his hand. “I tried. They require all that legal guardian shit. As you can imagine, my unfortunate lack of parents complicates that a bit”.

Hyunjin went quiet for a while, letting Felix fumble with the puzzle. Eventually, Felix heard the characteristic sound of pencil on paper, so he figured Hyunjin had gone back to sketching, with no intent on continuing the subject. That was, until…

“Want me to ask my parents?”

The Rubik’s cube fell on Felix’s lap.

“…What?”

“My parents”, Hyunjin repeated. “They can pose as your legal guardians. It wouldn’t be the first time a werewolf forges documents”, he added with a snort. Almost every single document a werewolf provided to human authorities was forged these days, so it wasn’t a particularly shocking statement.

However, what did shock Felix was Hyunjin’s proposal… Going back to school. Socialising with humans again after so long… Was he prepared for that? He wanted to learn, to pretend he had a normal life, maybe even… Make more friends? He’d never allowed himself to think about that too much, about going back to participate in the world outside of his little bubble in this forest.

“Would they even agree?” Felix’s voice was barely a whisper. He picked the cube back up from his lap and started to twist the faces again, trying to distract himself. “I don’t want them to… Know”.

Felix didn’t say it, but he was sure Hyunjin would understand. I don’t want them to know I’m a lone wolf. A packless failure.

“I’ll think of something”, Hyunjin mumbled, and if there was someone Felix trusted in this world to charm anyone into doing something, it was Hyunjin.

So that was how Felix managed to integrate into human society again. They both did some research, on public schools he could go to that’d take in someone so far behind, on possible scholarships he could apply to, on places to find school supplies… And as soon as they had all the necessary documentation, it was up to Hyunjin to get his parents to sign them.

It was hard to get used to at first. Felix got overwhelmed by the noise and the amount of people at school often, but he managed. In a couple of months he had gone from being a nobody, a lone wolf secluded to the woods, to being just some guy again, and only then did he realise how good it felt. To be seen, to be taken into account… And it was all thanks to Hyunjin.

During the day, Felix would go to school. In the afternoon, he started to volunteer at a soup kitchen in the area, helping feed those in need. The lovely lady that ran the place seemed to really like him, and she always appreciated the extra hands. ‘You’re so strong! Youth really does wonders for you, doesn’t it?’ She’d say often, and Felix simply chuckled in response, not really wanting to reveal that his strength had nothing to do with youth and all to do with his supernatural condition.

In return for his help she’d feed him, and eventually, Felix asked her to teach him how to cook. He found the act of cooking to come natural to him, he wasn’t sure if it had to do with his enhanced senses, but people would often compliment him on his food, and it made him feel proud. A feeling he hadn’t associated with himself in a long, long time–not to say never ever.

Felix still slept in the forest every night. He’d shift and curl into a fluffy ball of fur to keep himself warm. Hyunjin often offered him his home, or at least, his room, but Felix always declined. He didn’t want to be an inconvenience, and he was sure that Hyunjin’s parents wouldn’t appreciate him being there at all.

Felix only met the couple a few times, but that was more than enough for him to know that, even if he was grateful for their help, he simply didn’t like them. Just like Hyunjin didn’t, either. They were… Conservative. Because that was a thing, conservative werewolves.

‘They can’t accept the fact that I’m a male omega. Sometimes, I’m pretty sure they pretend like I’m not. That I’m a beta or something. And let’s not even talk about the fact that I like boys, too. They don’t know, know, but I’m sure they have noticed… They love to ignore that, too’, Hyunjin confessed to Felix after the first time he met them, after he couldn’t conceal the fact that he just hadn’t felt comfortable with the exchange, and Hyunjin’s words simply confirmed that first impression Felix had had of them.

Males were supposed to be alphas or betas, females were supposed to be betas or omegas, and other genders simply didn’t exist for them. Textbook homophobes, to put it simply. In this day and age… 

Felix knew, of course. Hyunjin didn’t hide his sexuality not even once since they met, and Felix was always grateful for that, because it helped him come to terms with his own. People were people, love was love, and no gender or designation would get in the way of that, that was their philosophy. Call it being bi, or pan, or fluid, or however you want. All Felix knew was that once he left the lone wolf in the forest, he was just full of love, ready to share it with the world, with whoever was consensually willing to receive it.

By the time Felix had turned eighteen, the line of his friendship with Hyunjin had blurred so much he wasn’t sure he could call him a friend anymore.

What he had with Hyunjin was much, much more than just friendship. Felix would often find himself holding his hand, or hugging him, or simply touching him, all without really thinking much about it.

Hyunjin did it, too. And although neither said anything, they both knew.

Eventually, their lingering touches started to turn much less platonic, less innocent. They turned into heated makeout sessions, into groping and desperately rutting and grunting against each other, into Hyunjin asking Felix to help him out during his heats as well… It felt natural, just like breathing, to be with one another. They were friends and lovers and soulmates and everything in between, and it was right how it was supposed to be.

Especially because, just like Felix, Hyunjin also believed that love was to be shared, to be enjoyed, so their open arrangement was perfectly designed for them. Felix wasn’t a jealous man, on the contrary, he was happy whenever Hyunjin was, so as long as they kept things clear and consensual and safe nothing else mattered.

At the end of the day, they’d always have each other, and possibly someone else–or simply other people, plural–to share their love with. Although, they’d usually do these things separately, considering Hyunjin’s tastes sometimes were what Felix could simply describe as questionable at best… He had fallen for Felix, after all.

Felix found himself a job in a local café. His very first real job. That was the place that finally gave him a second chance at finding a family, that was where he met Chris.

Chris worked at the café as a partimer, seeking some extra income to pay for his studies while he searched for a job in his field. Felix knew Chris was a werewolf as soon as he saw him, even before he got close enough to get a whiff of his scent.

The man just exuded alpha energy, and the moment he spotted Felix for the first time his eyes went wide with surprise, but he still gave him the widest smile right after, a genuine smile that made his eyes disappear into crescents and dimples to appear on his cheeks. Honestly, Felix wasn’t much of trusting alphas at first glance due to his past trauma, but Chris’ entire demeanour was way too welcoming for him to not trust him almost immediately.

They got acquainted pretty fast, maybe too fast. It was just too easy to fall into Chris’ antics, he was goofy and funny and kind and a bit fucked up in the head, but he was a good guy all in all. 

A few months of knowing Chris were enough for Felix to learn he led his own pack. He’d seen a couple of his pack members drop by the café, and they all seemed to be just as nice as Chris, which honestly didn’t surprise him. ‘It’s small, only four of us so far, but it’s great, honestly. Don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am right now with them’, Chris had told Felix once, and he sounded truly proud of it.  

“What about your pack?” Chris asked one day while he cleaned the coffee machine. Closing time was nearing, and there were hardly any customers still within the place, so these were usually the times when they spoke anything related to their lycanthropy. “You never talk about them”.

“That’s because I don’t have one”, Felix replied simply, rearranging the display shelf for what seemed like the tenth time that day.

“You don’t have one?!” 

Felix shrugged. “I have Hyunjin”.

“Oh, but that’s something. Well, someone…”

Felix had told Chris about Hyunjin, not in detail, but he knew. It was impossible not to know when his scent was always lingering on Felix’s clothes.

“Yeah, but he’s in a pack of his own”, Hyunjin hadn’t found the courage to defect yet, and Felix honestly couldn’t blame him. He’d been trapped in this vicious circle of guilt with his parents that made it really difficult for him to detach himself from them, even when staying with them only made him hurt and get more frustrated as time passed.

Chris’ brows furrowed, clearly confused. “So… If he’s in a pack, but you have no pack… Where are you staying?”

“Oh, I sleep in the woods”.

“You do what?!” Chris’ question came out a bit louder than he had intended for sure, a couple of customers looked back at him with clear confusion on their faces, and Chris simply offered them a strained smile and an apologetic bow.

“I’ve been sleeping in the forest since I was a pup… I shift, find a decent moss bed, curl up in a nice little ball, and fall off to sleep”, Felix offered with a smile on his face. Over the years, he had honestly started to enjoy it. Of course it wasn’t ideal, of course he would’ve preferred to have a warm bed and a roof over his head, but he’d gotten so used to it, it kind of made him feel like he was balancing his human-ness and his wolf-ness pretty well.

Chris’ face went completely serious, with his hand still holding a rag around the steam wand of the coffee machine, completely motionless. After a few moments of shared silence, he spoke again. “Wanna join my pack?”

Felix choked on his spit, Chris’ proposition catching him completely off-guard. “…What?!”

“Wanna. Join. My. Pack”, Chris repeated, slowly stressing each word.

“I heard you, okay. Jeez… I’m… Not sure I’m suited for the pack life”, Felix looked away from Chris then, focusing on the very interesting and very stale pastry sitting on the display shelf.

Still, he could feel Chris’ searing gaze on his side profile, and when Felix got enough courage to look back at him, he saw Chris looking at him, deep in thought.

Returning his focus to the coffee machine, Chris finally looked away, but he kept talking. “Did I ever tell you why I wanted to lead a pack of my own?”

“No…”

“I wanted to… To build a safe space. For those of us that were tired of being judged or mistreated. There was a lot of that in my childhood pack, Changbin and I were sick of it. Jisung, too–you remember Jisung, right?” Felix just nodded, and Chris continued. “Minho didn’t have a pack, either. But his case was very… Peculiar. He can tell you himself if you do choose to join us. Lix, you… Are nice. And although I don’t know what happened to you, I’m sure it was a lot for you to have been living in the forest since you were so young. So… Think about it”.

And Felix did think about it.

He could barely get sleep that night just thinking about it. About the prospect of having a pack again. Chris had shown him many times that he was just a different breed of alpha altogether, whether he knew it or not, so Felix found himself genuinely considering it. But there was something he needed to do before he made that decision.

“Chris’ pack? He offered that?” Hyunjin’s eyes were wide, and his mouth fell slightly open in surprise.

“Yes. But…” Felix stretched his hand over the table, past his stack of freshly made waffles, finding Hyunjin’s and holding it tightly in his. “I want you to come with me”.

Hyunjin blinked, and suddenly averted his gaze, fixing it on their joined hands. “Lix, angel, you know I can’t…”

“Love, listen to me”, Felix squeezed his hand, trying to get Hyunjin’s attention back to his eyes. “You can. Jinnie, baby, they’re sucking the life out of you in there. You don’t owe them anything”.

Hyunjin’s eyes flickered between Felix’s, looking at his face intently. Until he eventually squeezed his hand and heaved a sigh again. “Do you even know if Chris would take me? He asked you to join, not me. He doesn’t even know me. I don’t know him”.

“I’ll ask”, Felix reassured him, reaching over the table with his free hand to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear–he had been growing it these days, and Felix would lie if he said it didn’t make his heart flutter. “If you tell me you’ll consider it, I’ll ask, baby”.

Hyunjin simply nodded, bringing Felix’s hand to his lips so he could place a kiss on the back of it.

After much consideration, Hyunjin gave Felix the goahead. He wanted to defect, he wanted to detach himself from his parents as much as he could, and most importantly, he wanted to be able to be himself, openly. So, that afternoon, during his shift at work, Felix went to Chris to ask him about it.

“Would you consider taking Hyunjin in, too?” Felix asked him as soon as Chris came in through the door and stood behind the counter.

“Wow, what happened to ‘good afternoon’? What happened to ‘hello’?” Chris chuckled, washing his hands in the sink. “I’ll have to meet him first, though. But, if he’s anything like you, I’m sure it’ll be fine”.

“We… Don’t have much, you know that, right? I mean, I sleep in the woods for a reason. It’s cheap”.

“You mean it’s free?” Chris snorted, but he gave Felix a genuine smile after. “We’ll manage. That’s why we live in packs, don’t we? To help each other out”.

Felix stared at Chris for a few long moments. 

All of a sudden he felt a bit… Overwhelmed, to put it simply. He didn’t know what came over him, or why Chris’ words affected him like they did, but, after a few more moments of silence, he took a hold of Chris’ apron, looking down to the floor. “Chris, can I… Can I hug you?”

Felix had barely finished his question when Chris was already pulling him into his arms, cradling the back of his head and patting his back. Something snapped in Felix at that moment, he started to tremble, and he just couldn’t hold in the tears that had started to well in his eyes.

Chris didn’t say anything, he just hugged Felix tightly, and dear heavens if this man’s hugs weren’t the warmest and most comforting hugs Felix had ever felt. He knew it in his heart then, that he had made the right decision. That this was how having a Pack Alpha was supposed to feel like. Comfort, protection, warmth. Not whatever the fuck was happening in his childhood pack, not whatever the fuck was happening in Hyunjin’s pack, either.

The first night at Chris’ den was… Interesting. At the time, Chris was rooming with Changbin, and they had decided for Felix to spend the first nights here with them, or at least until Chris met Hyunjin and let him join the pack.

“I’ll take the sofa”, Chris told Felix as soon as they entered his flat.

“Nah, don’t worry, I’ll take it”, Changbin shouted from the kitchen, where he had been cooking dinner before Chris and Felix came in.

“No way. I’m not letting either of you take the sofa”, Felix intercepted immediately. “I’ve been sleeping on the ground for years, don’t worry about me, seriously. A sofa is a luxury at this point”.

Felix was used to saying these things out loud without thinking much about them, so he decided to ignore the apologetic look on Changbin’s face when he said that.

That night, while laying on the sofa, Felix did nothing but toss and turn. 

The sofa was great. Plush, comfortable, but he felt incredibly awkward. After one too many turns he finally decided to shift into his wolf form, curling in on himself on the sofa, and then he truly felt comfortable. It wasn’t that much different from a moss bed; the biggest upside was the fact that it was dry and warm here, so truly, for Felix, this was like a five star hotel at this point.

He’d no longer have to store his few belongings in gym lockers, or use gym showers, he’d no longer have to be aware of every single sound around him in case a hunter decided to come around the corner, or in case it started to rain, or in case one of the wild cats living in the area wanted to start a fight. As he drifted off to sleep, Felix truly, truly felt incredibly lucky.

Even the next day, when Felix woke up to the sight of Changbin’s smiling, swollen face, looking fondly at him still curled up on the sofa, he felt at ease, his wagging tail more than proof of that.

Now, getting Hyunjin to meet Chris, and for Chris and the other pack members to accept him was easy. Felix had no doubts in his mind that Chris and the others would like Hyunjin enough to let him join the pack as well. What was difficult was getting Hyunjin to defect.

He started gradually taking things out of his house. Important stuff, sentimental stuff, documents, anything of value. Hyunjin passed them all to Felix for Felix to keep them safe at the den. The idea was for every material thing he wanted to keep to be taken out before he spoke with his parents–if he spoke with his parents at all.

Hyunjin wasn’t sure yet… If he wanted to just disappear or if he wanted to confront them. He was sure they wouldn’t just let him leave, they’d try to convince him to stay with their impeccable emotional manipulation tactics, so he was leaning more towards the idea of leaving quietly.

All his plans went to shit when they saw him taking out the last bag of his belongings. Or at least, that was what he told Felix when he arrived a crying mess at the den.

The sight of Hyunjin crying his eyes out, the distress in his scent, it pulled at Felix’s heartstrings unpleasantly. He hated seeing him like this, he wished he could make it all better, make him smile again that charming smile of his. As soon as he saw him, Felix pulled Hyunjin into his arms, and Hyunjin started crying harder against his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably as the door to Chris’ flat closed behind him.

“What happened?!” Jisung asked as soon as he noticed Hyunjin’s state.

Hyunjin mumbled unintelligible nonsense against Felix’s shoulder, and Felix couldn’t help but bring a hand to his hair, trying to soothe him. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. Take your time…”

By the time Hyunjin had stopped crying the three of them sat on Chris’ sofa. Hyunjin gulped down the glass of water in his hand, and proceeded to blow his nose on a napkin Jisung had brought him.

“You told them that? Seriously?” Jisung softly caressed Hyunjin’s back, looking almost incredulous. “ ‘Your son is a fruity omega, deal with it’ has got to be the best coming out phrase of all time, honestly. You’re so badass”.

Hyunjin chuckled, blowing his nose again. “I was so angry when I said it. They were so angry when I said it. They started calling me names, saying I was an ungrateful bastard… And I just… Told them to fuck right off and left before they could even try to guilt trip me into staying”.

Felix brought a hand to Hyunjin’s chin, tilting his face towards him, offering him a smile. “You did it, baby. You’re free. We’re free”.

A small smile made its way onto Hyunjin’s lips as he looked back at Felix, his eyes were still a bit bleary and red, but they looked so, so full of hope, Felix couldn’t help but lean in and press a brief peck on his lips.

Jisung whined next to them, and when Felix turned to look at him he had a pout on his lips. “No kiss for me?”

“My God, Jisung. Not everything is about you”, Hyunjin sighed, sounding more like his usual self. He turned anyway, gripping Jisung by the cheeks with one hand and giving him a quick peck. An entirely platonic exchange, not uncommon between omegas, to be honest. “There. Happy?”

“Very!” Jisung was beaming, and it made Felix chuckle. “Welcome home”, he added, with a splitting smile on his face, pulling both Hyunjin and Felix into a hug.

Everything was smooth sailing from there. As smooth sailing as living in a pack of several traumatised werewolves can be. 

Throughout the years, Felix managed to finish his basic studies, he was no longer illiterate in the eyes of the human government, and he had found himself with a career goal. He wanted to be a chef. Preferably a pastry chef. Cooking was still, to this day, one of his biggest escapes. At first it was only regular food, then he started trying more complicated dishes, and eventually he found out how challenging baking could be.

His packmates were often the test subjects for every meal he cooked, especially Hyunjin, of course, who was there with him every step of the way, always supportive, always ready to give Felix an honest review of whichever concoction he had put together.

More people joined Chris’ pack, Seungmin, Jeongin… And eventually, by the time Felix was well into his twenties, came the girls. Or at least, some girls.

Chris’ current girlfriend came first, a human who took the place of Pack Mum before Chris even got the balls to confess his feelings for her… Then came Changbin’s girlfriend, an omega who also defected from her abusive pack and seeked comfort in the only other werewolf she knew. And of course, Minho’s best friend and now girlfriend, who had been coming to the den since Minho joined the pack. Felix liked to call her their honorary pack member, since she really didn’t live here, but she came and stayed over so often she was already like one of their own. 

Felix honestly would’ve never imagined his family would get so big. Because that was what this pack had become to him, the family he never truly had. He knew that he wanted to share his love, and here, with these people, he was able to share it more than ever–at least, his platonic love.

When it came to romance, it always went back to Hyunjin. Felix had dated a handful of people throughout the years. Humans, mostly–not to say exclusively. But things usually fell through when they simply couldn’t understand his relationship with Hyunjin. They always pretended they were okay with being in an open relationship, the reality was, they simply weren’t. So Felix often found himself breaking things off with people.

Hyunjin was a bit more lucky, he had a couple of serious relationships that actually lasted a fair amount of time. But ultimately, things would also fall through. Not because of his relationship with Felix, but simply because people change, their needs change, their wants change… And Hyunjin was one hundred percent sure of what he wanted, so as soon as any hesitancy came from the other party, ties were cut off.

Felix truly, truly never ever believed in imprinting and soulmates, but if such a thing existed, he was sure he now had two.

It simply happened one day, while going on a morning run with Hyunjin.

Every other weekend, very early in the morning, Felix and Hyunjin would go to the forest, to the same one Felix used to live in, to where they met for the first time. Felix found comfort in the place, the den was his home, but these woods were the place in which he was reborn, so he enjoyed coming here to connect with that part of himself every once in a while.

Hyunjin came just to spend some time with him, Felix knew it. He wasn’t overly fond of waking up early in the morning, but he never once complained. He understood how much it meant to Felix.

And in that place, was where they met you, too.

As Felix and Hyunjin drank from the clear stream, their ears perked up at the sudden rustle of leaves behind them. Slowly, another wolf came from between the trees, curiously eyeing them both.

Felix felt almost exactly the same way he did when he met Hyunjin for the first time, minus the excessive amounts of trauma he was dealing with back then.

They didn’t make any attempts to run or showed any hostility, since the wolf wasn’t showing any hostility, either. Very quickly they were enveloped by the scent of a werewolf, an alpha, just as the wolf came close to sniff them.

The wolf looked… Intrigued, more than anything. Their dark fur flowed with the gentle breeze passing by, and if Felix thought they were beautiful as a wolf, he wondered how they would look like as a human.

Hyunjin seemed to be in the same state Felix was, entranced, but before they knew it, the wolf took off into the woods again, gone out of their sight.

“So, uhm… I didn’t imagine that, right?” Hyunjin said a while later, as soon as he shifted back into his human form and tugged his jeans up his legs. “Who was that?”

“Dunno. You certainly didn’t imagine it”, Felix slid his plaid shirt on, slowly doing each button. “It felt kinda like…”

“Like when we met”, Hyunjin finished, slipping his shoes on. “Without the ‘growling at me and scaring me to death’ part”.

Felix chuckled, finishing with his clothes.“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Never, sweetheart”, Hyunjin winked at him, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. “You’ll have to be making up for it for the rest of your life!”

“You’re so dramatic sometimes…”

That night, though, Felix could only think about the encounter. He wondered how he could find that wolf again, Hyunjin had told him earlier to simply let things flow, just like he did when he met Felix for the first time. If it was meant to be, you’d meet again.

And you did meet again, although not exactly in the way Felix had hoped for. 

Felix loved his job, he loved baking, and decorating cakes, and working at this bakery specifically. It was fun, especially on days like these, with orders like these. A basic marbled cake, frosted with white and green buttercream, with the words ‘congrats on the sex’ written on it.

He wasn’t usually the one giving the customers their orders, but they were a bit understaffed today, so he brought it out as soon as he was called for it. Thankfully, it was quite slow at this time, so there was only one person waiting by the counter.

Felix called for the customer in the receipt anyway, and that same person perked up, looking at him. As soon as your eyes landed on his, he felt immediate familiarity, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“So, your cake’s ready. Please check and make sure it’s all to your liking”, Felix fell into his customer service persona anyway, it was hard not to, he practically spoke in autopilot at this point whenever he was behind the counter.

“Looks good”, you mumbled once you took a brief look at the cake. “How much do I owe you?”

“Well, says here you paid half upfront, so here’s the remaining amount”, Felix signalled to the register, and you started to take cash out of your bag. 

What an odd interaction. He felt like there was something on the tip of his tongue the entire time, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something.

“Here you go”, you handed him the money, and Felix pressed buttons on the register, getting it to open and giving you the necessary change once he had deposited the bills inside. 

You took the box and turned around to leave. Felix’s brows furrowed, confused, but he didn’t say anything.

However, you turned back around, so fast Felix almost jumped on the spot when you placed the cake back down on the counter. “Were you in the forest the other day?”

Felix was completely caught off guard, but he recognised you then. The alpha from the forest. “That was you?” He lowered his voice, making sure the other lingering customers didn’t eavesdrop the conversation.

“Yes! I’ve been… Uh… This is gonna sound super weird, I’m sorry, but I’ve been looking for you, although I’m not really sure why exactly”, your brows furrowed, and Felix almost wanted to reach over the counter and smooth it out with his thumb.

“Me, too. Well, us, too”, a couple of customers came into the store, and Felix offered them friendly smiles and a quick greeting before turning his eyes back to you. Taking a napkin from the holder on the counter and a pen, he scribbled his phone number quickly, signing it with his name. 

“Text me… If you want”, he added once he handed you the paper.

You looked at the napkin in your hand, then carefully folded it and placed it in your back pocket, giving him a “sure thing, Felix” with a smile on your face as you took your cake. “Have a nice day!”

Work couldn’t go any slower after that encounter…

“A female alpha?” Hyunjin asked as soon as Felix started telling him the story, when Felix had finally made it home and slid inside the bathtub to join him.

“So it seems. Well, they didn’t really tell me their gender or anything, but they were certainly female presenting… A lot of… Cleavage and stuff”, Felix had been too confused earlier to focus too much on it, but now that his mind was a bit clearer, he was remembering… Things. 

“What are the odds… An alpha for a beta and an omega”, Hyunjin leaned back on his end of the tub, extending one of his legs a bit, and immediately, Felix felt the pressure of the ball of Hyunjin’s foot on his length.

Quirking a brow, he looked at Hyunjin with a smirk on his lips.

“Are you trying to rile me up, my sweet prince? Trying to distract me with your low tactics?” Felix chuckled from where he was leaning on his end of the tub, taking a hold of Hyunjin’s heel and pulling him further against him.

“Question is, when am I not, my love?” Hyunjin gave him a smug smile, and it was just as he was about to say something again that Felix’s phone rumbled from where he had left it on the toilet lid. He looked at Hyunjin, and Hyunjin looked right back at him. Before Felix could say anything, Hyunjin was already stretching his arm, taking the phone, and looking at the notification. 

“It’s them”, Hyunjin urged, handing Felix the phone to read the message.

> Unknown Number: hey > it’s me, from the bakery > the ‘congrats on the sex’ cake? > anyway > would you like to go for coffee sometime?

“They could’ve just said ‘the alpha from the forest’, to be honest”, Hyunjin chuckled, still amused by the cake story.

“What should I tell them?” Felix was suddenly nervous. Why was he nervous? He’d done this before. Hell, he wasn’t even the one asking the other out… Was this even a date? 

“Say yes! Give them a date and a time”, Hyunjin urged, nudging him with his foot.

“Are you coming, though?”

“I think you should meet them first”, Hyunjin replied confidently. “I’m intrigued, but you already met them, and you know we usually don’t… Like the same type of people. I really think you should meet them first. See if they are nice, and if they are and you want something with them, see if they’re comfortable with… You know. Us”.

So Felix replied then, a short ‘brunch tomorrow. 11am?’ to which you gave him a positive answer and the name of a café he had been to before, so he knew where to go. All details which he gave Hyunjin immediately.

“That’s great, baby!” He nudged Felix with his foot again, making the other smile. “Now, come here. I want you to absolutely destroy me”.

Felix couldn’t help but chuckle. “Needy, are we?” But he moved anyway, leaning forward to kiss Hyunjin properly.

The next day, while Felix anxiously bounced his leg as he sat at one of the tables in the café, he felt oddly nervous. He reasoned it was because you were a werewolf. Felix had truly only dated humans before, the only werewolf he’d ever been with was Hyunjin–he did shoot his shot at Changbin once when he started to live at the den, but to this day he was sure Changbin hadn’t even registered it, so he let it go. 

“Hey”, you regarded Felix with a smile as soon as you saw him, taking a seat in front of him. God, Felix hadn’t realised yet, but you smelt like the forest. Like pine and the moss beds he used to sleep on, and it almost knocked the air right out of his lungs.

“So”, Felix started once you both had procured your respective coffees and sandwiches. “The woods, huh? Never seen you around before”.

“You go there often? Never seen you around, either”, you replied between bites of your food, and Felix gave you a nod in responde, not wanting to discuss why he went to the woods in the first place. “I go there often, too. My sisters like to hangout around the place. I was looking for one of them when I saw you guys”.

“You got sisters? Never seen any other werewolf there that wasn’t Hyunjin, now you…”

“Hyunjin? That’s the other wolf you were with?” Felix just nodded again, and you continued. “Well, my sisters aren’t werewolves, that’s why. I’m, uh… My pack is not exactly… Conventional”.

“Oh?” Felix couldn’t help but quirk a brow. “I’m intrigued”.

You gave him a sheepish smile, taking a sip of your coffee right after. “Werecats, werejackals, werebats… It’s a very odd pack, we’re all a bit different. I’m the only werewolf in it, actually”.

Felix’s jaw went slack, completely in shock. “…Come again?”

“Uh, well, there are two werecats, one werejackal, two werebats, and we might be integrating a vampire soon, actually. Not the same thing as a werebat, by the way”.

Felix just blinked, and you gave him an almost shy smile. “Damn, it’s like you’re collecting otherworldlies”, Felix chuckled, dragging his fingers through his hair and leaning back on his chair.

“Yeah, well… We got fed up and decided to stick together”, you offered simply.

“All girls?”

“Nah. Some of us, like me, don’t care about gender at all. Some girls, some boys, some non-conforming… You know…” You eyed him intently, almost as if you were trying to test his stance on the matter, and it had him chuckling.

“Oh, I know”, he replied, with a genuine smile on his face. 

You seemed satisfied with his answer, and that, for some reason, made him feel giddy.

That was when you truly started to open up. You were just a bit older than him, you worked at your late parents’ antique and oddities shop, it had been left in your care once they passed away, and your den was located right above it. ‘Got the entire building for ourselves! I’m honestly glad my parents were careful enough to leave me everything they had to their name. I don’t know where I’d be if they hadn’t…’

You were very moralistic, and blunt, and honestly? Really hot. Felix was listening intently to everything you were telling him, he really was. But he could also multitask, so admiring your attributes while he listened was going incredibly well for him.

“What about you, though?” You asked eventually, taking a sip of your now cold coffee. 

Felix shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m a baker, as you probably inferred. I have a mostly werewolf pack, but we’ve got a few humans as well”.

“Your alpha allows humans in their den?” You asked, a bit incredulous, and Felix really laughed out loud at the thought of Chris not allowing humans at his den, all things considered.

“He does. Actually, my pack’s alpha is head over heels for his human girlfriend. Any moment now they’re gonna mate and or get married, I’m sure”.

“And you? Hyunjin?” Ah, there it was. It was time to speak about That.

“Hyunjin’s my mate”, Felix replied honestly, confidently looking you in the eyes. “And just to clarify, I don’t mean a mate as a friend. He’s my mate mate. We’ve been mates for years. But… We’re in an open relationship”.

“Oh?” You leaned back in your seat, and the curious glint in your eyes gave him some hope. “Never heard of polyamorous mates before. Does it really work for you guys?”

“It does. We’re both just… Two guys who love each other, and want to share our love with other people, too”, and they were. They truly, truly were, and Felix believed this one hundred percent. “It’s all about trust and consent and all that, you know?”

“Oh, I know…” Your fingers tapped the table. 

You looked at Felix for a moment, the air was suddenly heavy between you two, thick with something intense, alluring, and Felix could feel the hairs at his nape stand on end when you leaned on the table, resting your elbows on it. “So… If I take you home right now, and fuck your brains out, your mate won’t mind?”

Blunt. Forward. Very much an alpha, you were.

“My mate was the one who urged me to text you back last night”, a smirk made its way onto his lips, and he leaned forward on the table as well, matching your stance. “What about you, though? You’re an alpha. Wouldn’t it bother you? To know I’m also someone else’s? To share?”

“I’m not a possessive alpha. Not like that at least”, you licked your lips, and Felix’s eyes followed the movement like a hawk. “Like you said… It’s all about consent, and trust, and all that”.

“Exactly…”

You stared at him, and Felix stared right back. In your eyes, all dark and clouded with need, he could see it all. In your scent, he could smell it all. Arousal, lust, want… It was honestly almost comical how fast the both of you stood up from your chairs. The bills had been paid for already, so you simply slung your bag over your shoulder and took Felix’s hand, tugging him out of the café.

“My place is close by”, you told him simply, and he followed you without hesitation.

“Isn’t it dangerous for you to show me where you live on a first date?” Felix teased you as soon as you both made it to your building’s entrance–it was more a door than an entrance, but he figured the term still worked.

“I don’t know why, but my instincts tell me I can trust you, Lee Felix”, you said as you started to climb the stairs, and Felix followed right behind you, not even pretending like he wasn’t staring at your ass the entire time. “But anyway, what would you do to me? I could probably snap you in half”, you grinned at him as soon as you made it to your door, hastily getting your keys from your bag and unlocking it.

“You wouldn’t dare! Who’d take care of my Hyunjin if I’m gone?” Felix bit back, stepping into your home.

As soon as the door closed behind him, you pushed Felix against it, pressing your whole body against his own, and that look in your eyes truly reminded him that you were an alpha, that you were very much capable of snapping him in half, and that he’d gladly let you fuck him silly at any time of day.

“Well, if he wants, I can take care of him no problem. I honestly haven’t been able to stop thinking about his apple and pear scent”, you caged him against that door, with your hands at either side of him. “But then again, I also haven’t been able to stop thinking about yours”.

Before Felix could even attempt to respond, your lips were on his. Warm, slightly chapped from the cold air outside, but still moist with your saliva, and his entire body came alight. You tasted like coffee and bread and like the sweetest nectar he’d ever drunk. 

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as your tongue made its way inside his mouth, devouring him, and he simply took it, pushing his tongue against yours and holding your waist tightly. Felix wasn’t sure if it was the influence of your alpha scent, if it was the fact that you were a werewolf, or the fact that you’d met in the forest, right where he had met Hyunjin, his forever mate, making his brain jump to conclusions, but truly, Felix had only ever felt this ravenous with him before this moment.

“Are you clean of anything?” You asked as soon as your lips disconnected, starting a trail of kisses all the way from his mouth to his neck, licking and sucking on his pulse point, making him whine.

“Yes”, Felix replied simply, slightly breathless, because it was the truth. He got checked regularly, as did Hyunjin.

“Good. Me too”, with that, you dropped to your knees, swiftly undoing his belt, popping open the button of his jeans and opening his zipper. God, he was so hard already, how had he gotten this worked up just by a few minutes of kissing?

It was really hard for him to care at all as you mouthed his length over his underwear. “Let me know if you want to stop at some point, okay? You say stop and I’ll stop. Promise”.

Felix nodded, his eyes fixed on yours as you palmed him. You squeezed him over the fabric, and he was starting to lose it, truly. “Say it, Felix. Say you understand”.

“I–I understand”, saliva had pooled in his mouth, so he swallowed, getting lost in your sinful stare. Felix was usually the one taking the lead, but right now, there was nothing he wanted more than to let you do with him as you pleased, and by that look in your eyes, he was almost certain that was what you wanted, too.

“That’s it. What a good boy”, you smiled at him, a genuine smile that made your eyes disappear, a complete contrast to the way you pulled his underwear down, letting his cock spring free from its confinements.

As soon as you took his length into your warm, wet mouth, he just couldn’t help himself, the moan that left his lips was almost pathetic to his ears, but he didn’t care. Felix let his head fall against the door, lost in the feeling of your warmth around him, on the obscene slurping sounds filling his ears, on the smell of the forest surrounding him completely, making him tremble where he stood.

When was the last time he had had sex with a stranger? But then again, somehow, you didn’t feel like a total stranger, you felt familiar, almost as if he had known you for a long, long time. 

“So fucking good with your mouth–Fuck!” The feeling of your throat around him was too much, you were working him up way too quickly, he had to focus really hard to hold it all in. Maybe it was the mix of your entire being–your scent, your values, your tits that looked absolutely amazing in that low top–or maybe it was the new experience that had him so heated, but he’d usually be able to go longer than this, he had stamina goddamn it.

You pulled away from his cock with a lewd pop, replacing your mouth with your hand, pumping him fervently. Sweet, sweet torture… “It’s okay, puppy. You can come. I’m not done with you, though. You can come and then I’ll work you up all over again, hm?”

Felix nodded, frantic, his eyes jumping from your hand working his cock to your face, to your eyes staring right into him. As soon as you took him back into your mouth he was gone. “Shit, fuck… You’re seriously… I’m gonna come, fuck…”

You bobbed your head once, twice, thrice, and then his mind went blank. An assortment of swears and grunts and moans flew past his lips as he shot his load down your throat, and you kept blowing him through all of it, even when he stopped coming, bringing him to the brink of oversensitivity.

“Shit, wait, too much…” He whined, writhing against the door. For a moment, he thought you wouldn’t stop, he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t. 

But thankfully–or regretfully, he couldn’t decide…–you took pity on him, finally letting him fall from your mouth and staring up at him with a satisfied smile on your face as you looked at him taking deep breaths. When you stood on your feet and kissed him again, Felix really started to feel lightheaded, drunk on your scent, on his own taste on your tongue.

“You okay?” You asked, and it seemed like you genuinely cared, which honestly made his heart flutter.

“More than okay, holy shit”, Felix replied between kisses, making you chuckle. You instructed him to take his t-shirt, his shoes, his jeans and underwear off, and he did it without hesitation.

“Come here, pup”, you tugged him away from the door, walking a few strides and pushing him to sit on the sofa, straddling him as soon as he was seated. 

His hands came to rest on the curve of your ass, and before his hazy mind could register the movement, you had already tugged your shirt and your bra away from your body. His mouth watered at the sight of your breasts falling into their natural place, and right there, sitting on top of him, you truly, truly looked like a goddess.

“Felix”, your hand came to his nape, caressing his skin softly. “You seem to be very focused on my chest. Just like you were yesterday”, shit, he had been caught, but honestly, he couldn’t find it in him to care at all.

“How could I not? Shit, look at these”, he moved his hands to cup your tits, squeezing them gently. You allowed him to do it for a few moments, but then you took a hold of his hands, placing them on your ribs, right below your breasts.

“Wanna suck on them, pup?” You kept his hands pressed to your skin, and he immediately nodded, sucking you eagerly when you pulled his face to your breasts.

He didn’t know how long he spent with his mouth attached to your chest while you rolled your hips to get some friction from his already hardening length. All he knew was that when you came from the attention he was giving to your tits, from the grind of your still clothed core against him, the sound of your moans and your soft praises had him almost coming again.

That afternoon, after you took him from that sofa to your room, after you slid a condom on his cock and rode him until he couldn’t take it anymore, Felix left your flat all levels of fucked out of his mind, with a promise of another date, and an almost bashful ‘you think Hyunjin would like to meet me?’

As soon as he was back home, he made his way to his bedroom, finding Hyunjin propped on the headboard of the bed with a sketchbook and a pencil in his hands. 

Felix plopped on the bed, sighing contently, and Hyunjin immediately chuckled in response.

“Jinnie, baby. You have to meet her, seriously”, Felix turned to his side and propped himself on his elbow, looking at Hyunjin.

“You think I’d like them?” His mate asked with a chuckle, barely even looking up from the piece he was working on.

“I’m sure you will, shit…”

Hyunjin agreed to meet you, so Felix gave him your contact, and in a couple of days, you two went on a date.

Felix wasn’t sure why he felt so incredibly excited at the prospect of you and Hyunjin going on a date. Maybe it was the fact that they both hardly ever found a common partner, and he was sure he’d enjoy his relationships much more if Hyunjin could be involved.

So he laid on his sofa that day, playing games on his phone and waiting for Hyunjin to come back home.

It was getting dark by the time Felix heard the tell-tale signs of a key going into the keyhole. Hyunjin stepped into the flat with languid steps, dropping his bag on the floor right by the entrance and making his way to the sofa. Felix fixed his gaze on him, looking at his every move. His hair was tousled, his shirt wrinkly and barely even tucked into his jeans, and Felix could’ve sworn he was limping a bit.

Finally, Hyunjin plopped on the other end of the sofa, slouching and staring at the ceiling, and Felix slung his legs over Hyunjin’s lap. He was silent for a while, but Felix didn’t push him, he simply kept quiet and waited for Hyunjin to gather his thoughts. 

“Holy shit”, were the first words coming out of Hyunjin’s mouth, just as he brought a hand to softly caress Felix’s calf. 

“How’d it go?” Felix couldn’t hold back any longer. He needed to know.

Hyunjin gestured in front of his chest, with his eyebrows high on his face. “Tits. Shit…” 

Felix snorted at the comment, amused by the daze his partner was in. “I know, right?”

“That wasn’t normal, Lix”, Hyunjin finally looked at him, with an indecipherable glint of something in his eyes. “I’ve been with alphas before, but whatever that was went completely beyond that”.

“It kinda felt like…” Felix started, unsure if he should say it. 

But Hyunjin clearly decided to say it instead. “Like when we’re together”. 

“It’s crazy, though. We barely know them”, Felix was trying to find a logical explanation, anything factual, and not based on folklore. 

Hyunjin snorted. “Darling, we’re dogs. What does it matter? Shouldn’t we follow our instincts? How many people can say they’re as lucky as us? I can’t believe we finally found a common match”, he carded his fingers through his hair, slumping further in his seat.

“So, that means that you’d like to… Include her? Like… The three of us being a thing?” 

“After what I experienced today? Hell fucking yes”, Hyunjin chuckled. “As long as they want to. It’s all a bit… New”.  

“Mm, it is”, Felix finally sat down on the sofa, sitting close to Hyunjin and dropping his head on his shoulder. The mix of his and your scent on his clothes had his heart doing somersaults in his chest. 

Dating you was… Interesting. At first, you’d go on dates separately, either you and Hyunjin, or you and Felix, the three of you just getting used to one another. Until one day, finally, the three of you went out together. 

Felix found it incredibly exhilarating, walking around with an arm around Hyunjin’s waist while holding your hand. It all felt just so… Natural. Easy. Just like it had been when Felix and Hyunjin started to get really close, when they figured out what they meant to each other.

It was all just so much fun, and he was having the time of his life. 

Eventually, you needed to meet Chris. If Hyunjin and Felix wanted you to come over, they needed to make sure that their pack’s alpha approved of your presence at the den, and, honestly, Felix respected Chris way too much to not follow this rule, especially because it was one of the very few ones they had at all.

Chris was a bit guarded when you came to his flat to meet him for the first time. He was super stiff, and a bit more stoic than usual. Felix was sure it wasn’t the fact that you were an alpha per se, but the fact that you were an alpha that just wouldn’t stop shamelessly checking his girlfriend out, and it was probably triggering his instincts.

Felix had told you of their relationship before, but maybe he should’ve been a bit more explicit on how looking at her Like That could possibly bring your chances of coming and staying here to absolute zero. 

Hyunjin had noticed, too. And he had been trying his best to distract you enough so you would stop. It wasn’t until Chris’ girlfriend excused herself for a moment, when Chris left the room and followed her, that both Felix and Hyunjin lunged at you. 

“Darling, please. I’m begging… Stop checking her out. Chris is very possessive of our dear mother”, Felix urged, speaking as low as he could. 

“Oh my God. Was it obvious?” You sounded genuinely distressed about it, and it made Hyunjin facepalm himself. 

“Of course it was fucking obvious! You’re not exactly the epitome of discreet, love”, Hyunjin whispered-shouted.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to… I honestly have zero intentions with her. She’s just… Hot. Looks so…” You made squishing motions with your hands. You really didn’t need to say it, their pack’s mother was certainly very soft and squishable, Felix often found himself going for hugs or cuddling, so he understood, but his relationship with her was entirely familial, completely different to what you were doing right now, and it would never trigger Chris’ nature–unless the man was close to his rut, but those were technicalities…

“I’m just… Admiring, you know? Can you blame me?” 

“No”, Hyunjin sighed, dragging his hand over his face. “But please stop looking at her like that. If there’s anyone off limits at this den, it’s her”. 

You pouted, looking slightly annoyed, but you nodded regardless, finally taking a deep breath. “I know you guys are right… I’ll do my best not to start any fights over pretty girls here. No promises, though…”

When Chris and his girlfriend came back, your staring had finally stopped. Regardless, when they returned, Chris held onto his girl like the most obnoxious koala, and as usual, she didn’t seem fazed at all by this. 

You gave Chris a bit of context on your life. Your den, your pack, but most importantly, you told him the values and foundations of your pack, which were very similar to Chris’ own. That, added to the fact that you stopped looking at his girl, had seemed to soften his entire demeanour.

“They can stay”, Chris told Hyunjin and Felix that same evening after you left. “They seem nice and I like what she’s doing with their pack”. 

Felix heaved a sigh, feeling immensely relieved. At least, until Chris spoke again. 

“But, respectfully, tell her to fucking stop looking at my girlfriend like that. At least when I’m around. It fucks up with my head, and it’s incredibly unpleasant, okay?”

Chris didn’t sound particularly angry, mostly just annoyed. Felix knew you wouldn’t make any real advances towards his girlfriend, just like Chris probably knew you wouldn’t, either. Not to say how they all knew his girl just wouldn’t even acknowledge any potential advance. Hell, Felix doubted she even noticed you were looking at her like that at all, she only ever seemed to register Chris in that regard.

But at the end of the day, just like Hyunjin often said, they were dogs, and they often had to fight their animalistic instincts with an insane amount of human self control, which could honestly get quite tiring.

With the approval of their alpha, you started to regularly come to their den–more specifically, to Hyunjin and Felix’s flat, of course. You wouldn’t spend the night that much, though, which was completely understandable. After all, you had a den of your own to attend to. 

Some nights, Felix wished he could be snuggled between you and Hyunjin, he wondered how that would be like quite often. 

When he told Hyunjin about this, he simply chuckled and said ‘we’d need to get a bigger bed, then. You and I can barely fit on ours’, which honestly sounded like an amazing idea to Felix, but Hyunjin shattered his fantasy when he added, ‘how would you be snuggled between us if you love to sleep at the foot of the bed, though?’ which was also an excellent point on his part…

Regardless, you came over often, to meet Hyunjin if he was there, to meet Felix if he was there, or to meet them both if they were both there. It didn’t really matter, you just dropped by and spent time with either or both and left your scent everywhere and Felix honestly loved it more than he could’ve ever imagined. There was hardly anything that made him as happy as the mix of your scent and Hyunjin’s all over him, it made him feel giddy, and warm, and loved.

“That’s it, Lixie, baby… You’re doing so well…”

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Kneeling on the sofa, with one hand on your hip, the other fondling one of your breasts, and his chest firmly pressed to your back, Felix buried his face in the crook of your neck, moaning against your skin as you kept pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. He felt just so drunk on your scent, on the feel of your ass hitting his pelvis, and the tight grip of your walls around his cock.

“You smell so… Good, fuck…” Sweat collected at his temples, he rolled your nipple between his fingers, making you moan, the sound turning to a blissed chuckle.

“You do, too, pup. Fresh… Like petrichor”, you told him simply, pushing your hips back harder, faster.

How many times had this sofa seen you two fuck in the past handful of months? Felix wasn’t sure, but he was sure it hadn’t been enough, he needed more of it. He loved doing it here, right in the living room. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the fact that your scent would linger in the fabric after you left and he’d get to smell it for days after when laid down.

Suddenly, you stopped moving, and Felix instinctively stopped moving as well as the sound of his front door opening reached his ears.

Okay, maybe it could also be the fact that Felix knew Hyunjin loved coming back home to the sight of his partners having sex that made him enjoy fucking on this sofa so much.

“You guys are fucking without me?” Hyunjin dropped his belongings at the entrance, pouting, quickly making his way to the sofa.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss on his lips once Hyunjin kneeled in front of you, wrapping his arms around you and Felix, sandwiching you between them. “You were taking too long to come home, Jinnie”.

“Too long, sweetheart”, Felix let go of your breast to grip the collar of Hyunjin’s shirt, pulling him in for a kiss, too.

Hyunjin sighed, burying his face in the crook of your neck, while Felix did the same on the other side. “Got caught up at work…”

“You work too hard, honey”, you told him, wrapping one of your arms around his waist, pulling him further into you, striking a normal, almost domestic conversation as if your walls didn’t have a vice grip on Felix’s length.

“Did you at least manage to fix that part of the mural you didn’t like?” Felix asked, caressing Hyunjin’s hair, continuing the conversation as if he wasn’t rock hard inside of you.

“I did…” Hyunjin pressed his nose to your pulse point, inhaling deeply, audibly, and it made you chuckle.

“Wanna join us? Or are you gonna stay there and watch?” Felix could feel his cock twitch when you asked that, and honestly, either option sounded exactly like absolute heaven to him.

“Have to clean up, I’m covered in paint”, Hyunjin finally detached himself from your neck, looking between you and Felix with a sad pout on his lips. “You guys go on, I’ll join you after a shower”.

With a quick kiss to both of you, Hyunjin hurriedly retreated to the bathroom.

Felix attached his lips to your shoulder, peppering your skin with kisses as you took a hold of both of his hands and brought them to your chest. “Wanna keep going, Lix? Or do you need a break?”

He squeezed your breasts, trapping your nipples between his fingers, and the way you clenched around him with the motion had him salivating, truly making him feel like a dog. Like a really horny dog. “Let’s keep going. Or I’ll die”.

Reaching behind to take a hold of his hair, you turned your head, finding Felix’s lips for a heated kiss. As soon as your hips started to push back against him again, he groaned, the sound getting lost in your mouth while you held him tightly in place, ravishing his mouth.

Tugging his head back a bit, your lips attached to his jaw, the lack of your mouth on his own let his blissed grunts and groans and moans spill freely out of his mouth. He quickened his pace, and you immediately matched the rhythm. Between your scent and the sounds you were making and the slapping of skin and the delicious feel of you wrapped around him Felix started to feel lightheaded, he’d been so close to coming so many times throughout the entire evening he was sure he’d explode at any moment.

“Darling… I’m so, so close”, Felix couldn’t help but groan as soon as you started to move even faster, holding his hair tighter.

“Come whenever you want, sunshine”, when you kissed him again, when you started to rub circles on your clit and clenching so, so tightly around him, Felix knew he was done for, he wouldn’t last much longer.

Holding your hips and burying his face in the crook of your neck to get close to your pulse point, he snapped his hips as hard as he could, chasing that sweet, sweet relief, and as soon as he took in a deep breath and your scent engulfed him fully, his mind clouded.

“Fuck, fuck, Lixie, baby…” A growl resonated from deep within your chest as soon as you got your release, it made him shiver, and coupled with the feeling of your walls clenching repeatedly around his length was enough to send him over the edge. 

Felix came with a deep, low growl, shooting his load into the latex. A low rumble started to resonate within him as he kept coming, and it remained even after your cunt had milked the very last drop. 

“Aww, you’re rumbling. What a cute little pup you are”, you chuckled, slightly breathless.

Felix felt himself flush. Taking a hold of the condom at the base to secure it in place, he carefully pulled out of you, tying a knot and dropping the soiled latex on the floor to pick it up later. He plopped on the sofa, panting a bit, still rumbling, and he couldn’t help but scoff.

“And what about it?” 

“Nothing”, you laid on top of him, kissing his cheeks, making him flush further. “You’re just really cute”.

“‘Course I am…” Felix mumbled, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding you close.

You just chuckled, pressing a loud, brief kiss on his lips.

After a quick moment of hydration, and as soon as Hyunjin was out of the bathroom, you and Felix pulled him into the bedroom, pushing him to the bed, not even giving him a chance to dry himself properly. You kissed Hyunjin fervently, just as Felix sucked love bites on his neck, eliciting a whimper from his mouth.

“Darling…” Hyunjin mumbled against your lips, trying to get your attention. “Want to… Would you let me…” With Felix’s languid strokes on his cock, Hyunjin could barely speak, and it had Felix growing impossibly harder against the curve of Hyunjin’s ass.

“What do you want, puppy?” You brought a hand to his chest, toying with one of his nipples, making him whine.

Hyunjin swallowed thickly, pushing his hips back against Felix’s length. “You… Want to taste you, please”.

“You want a taste?” You quirked a brow, pinching his nipple harder, making him swear and rut his hips harder against Felix. “What do you think, Lixie? Should I give our dear omega what he wants?”

Felix chuckled softly, licking the shell of Hyunjin’s ear, quickening the pace of his hand around Hyunjin’s length, reducing him to a whiny mess. 

“He asked nicely, baby. Our Jinnie has had a hard day today, haven’t you, love?” Felix asked, and Hyunjin simply nodded in response, burying his face in the crook of your neck to get as much of your scent on him as he could. “I think he deserves a treat. Don’t you?”

“Are you turning soft on me now, Lixie?” You chuckled, but you pulled yourself away from Hyunjin anyway. He whined in protest, and you hushed him gently. “But I agree. Today our prince gets what he wants”.

Hyunjin hardly ever didn’t get what he wanted. Just that sometimes, what he wanted wasn’t for you and Felix to pamper him. Most times, he wanted to be ruined, to be played and toyed with however you and Felix pleased, to do whatever you wanted to him. Today didn’t seem like one of those days, so Felix didn’t see any reason to not give him what he asked for, just like you didn’t seem to, either.

Sitting against the headboard, you sat with your legs open, and Hyunjin immediately scrambled to get close to your core. The moment his tongue made contact with your skin, he groaned, and you bit your lip, looking at his every move. Felix just placed his hand on the back of Hyunjin’s head, softly caressing the strands as he enjoyed the sight of his tongue licking you, of his plump lips sucking on you.

“Baby…” You made grabby hands towards Felix, and he could feel his heart swell in his chest just by the way you looked at him, with need, and want, and maybe even love. “Kiss”.

Felix wasted no time, planting his lips on yours, relishing your moans against his lips, relishing the feeling of Hyunjin’s head bobbing and moving between your legs as he held him in place. Your tongue pushed its way inside Felix’s mouth, right as your hand wrapped around his length, and the sudden contact had him moaning immediately.

Your other hand joined Felix’s on Hyunjin’s head, further pushing him against you. Very quickly, the room filled with the sounds of your moans, of Felix’s moans, of Hyunjin’s moans… Groans, grunts, whimpers, and whines mingled with one another, to the point where it was hard to know from whom the sounds were coming out from. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Hyunjin between your legs and your hand around Felix’s cock… All that mattered was the mix of your scents in this room on this bed and the amount of lust and love pouring out of all the three of you and bouncing off the walls.

Lately, there was nothing Felix enjoyed more than getting lost on his lovers bodies, than the feeling of you and him and Hyunjin just sharing your warmth, your pleasure, and as he felt you tense under Hyunjin’s quickening tongue, as he felt your grip on his cock tighten the further his mate worked you up, he knew there was nowhere else he wanted to be than right here, in this moment.

Felix detached his mouth from your lips, attaching himself instead to your neck, licking at your pulse point for a moment–just enough to get a concentrated taste of you, quick enough to not trigger your alpha instincts. The contact of his tongue on your neck was gone almost as soon as it started, and he finally moved away from your neck to attach his lips to your cheeks, groaning and moaning against your skin.

“You wanna make me come, Hyunjinnie?” You asked, and Hyunjin nodded, sucking your clit into his mouth, making you throw your head back against the headboard.

“Make our alpha come, Jinnie”, Felix pleaded, pushing Hyunjin further into you. “Use that filthy mouth of yours just like you know how to, and later, you can get my cock, too”.

Hyunjin moaned, the sound strained and muffled as he got lost in your heat. 

“Our sweet prince just wants to have his mouth full, doesn’t he?” You pressed a kiss on Felix’s lips, and he felt you shiver and tense further. “Always eager…”

The closer you got to your high, the more your scent seemed to intensify, and Felix was almost drunk on the smell of fresh fruits and the forest. He rocked his hips, fucking your fist just as his tongue kept dancing against yours.

The sounds of your wet kiss, the sounds of Hyunjin slurping you up, the squelching sounds of your fist around his length had Felix’s head spinning, and when your release washed over you, the feeling of you trembling and the smell of your arousal in the air almost, almost made him come, too.

With a tight grip on Hyunjin’s hair, you got him off of you, tugging him up for a kiss, a kiss Felix couldn’t help but join, moaning at the taste of you on Hyunjin’s tongue. 

“Satisfied? Happy you got what you wanted?” You asked as soon as Hyunjin separated his lips from yours, sounding incredibly confident for someone who was still panting for air.

Hyunjin nodded, whimpering when you tugged on his hair again. “Good. Now be a good boy and lay down for us, hm?”

Hyunjin scrambled, laying on his back and watching as you took a condom from the box that had been hastily thrown on the bed earlier. As soon as you slid the latex on his length and you made sure it was securely in place, you straddled him, sinking yourself on his cock in one swift movement, eliciting a shared groan of relief.

You didn’t move, you just sat on him, watching as Felix got close to Hyunjin’s head, kneeling with his length in his hand. Hyunjin looked up at him, with his eyes all glossy and with flushed cheeks, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. Truly a sight to behold.

“Please, Lixie…” Hyunjin begged, and you chuckled from your place on his lap, making him flush further.

“So desperate, baby. As if you didn’t just have your mouth busy… How needy…”

“If there’s one thing our Jinnie is, is needy. Aren’t you, love?” Felix chuckled, caressing Hyunjin’s cheek briefly, only to finally move closer to him, slapping his length against his cheek, making Hyunjin flush further. “A textbook slut, aren’t you?”

Hyunjin swallowed, nodding. The sound of a hand hitting skin resonated in the room, the slap Felix gave Hyunjin made his mate moan as soon as his palm made contact with the skin, and Felix gripped his chin tightly with one hand right after. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Hyunjin whimpered, writhing a bit under Felix’s hold, and it made him feel tingly all over, tingly with lust and love and need. “Your slut!”

“Good boy”, you chuckled, pinching one of his nipples, making him squirm.

“Indeed. Our good little slut”, Felix let go of Hyunjin’s chin, caressing his cheek after.

“Please… Move, please”, it wasn’t very clear to whom Hyunjin was talking to, to you who had been sitting on his length for a while now, completely unmoving, or to Felix who had his cock so close to his mouth, but not letting it touch his lips at all. Most likely, it was directed to the both of you, but Felix decided to move first anyway.

“Open up, then, my dearest prince”, Felix couldn’t help but groan as soon as Hyunjin’s lips wrapped around him, sucking him eagerly, moaning around his length as he bobbed his head.

“That’s it, sweetheart… You always look the prettiest, the most handsome, with your mouth stuffed full of my cock, you know?” Pushing the tip of his length against Hyunjin’s cheek, Felix slapped the bulging skin a bit, relishing the way Hyunjin closed his eyes and moaned in bliss.

You chuckled from your place on Hyunjin’s lap, placing your hands on his chest for leverage and finally starting to bounce on his cock, making him whine and whimper as Felix kept thrusting into his mouth. “Look at you, Jinnie, dear. So pretty. Moaning for us like the prettiest bitch in heat”.

“Moaning like our perfect slut, you mean”, Felix chuckled, the sound breaking into a moan of his own as Hyunjin started to move as well, meeting Felix’s thrusts, letting his cock ease into his throat.

“That, too”, your pace was ruthless, the sound of his gagging and your skin hitting Hyunjin’s had Felix salivating, and he wasn’t sure where to focus. On his forever mate choking on his cock, or on your tits bouncing with every single one of your movements, or where Hyunjin’s length kept disappearing within your heat… 

Hyunjin’s moans were getting increasingly more desperate, Felix could feel his orgasm grow incredibly close, and as soon as he locked eyes with you while he kept thrusting into Hyunjin’s mouth, he knew he wouldn’t last.

“Come here, Lixie. Let’s give our precious little omega what he wants”, you urged, quickening your pace.

“Fuck!” Hyunjin started to swear as soon as Felix’s length fell from his mouth, his blissed out noises now spilling freely from his swollen lips without the foreign body fucking his mouth.

Felix moved closer to you, just as you got off Hyunjin’s length and pulled the condom off of him, dropping it somewhere behind you to collect later. With his hand around his cock, Felix leaned into you, kissing you sloppily as he jerked himself, as you pumped Hyunjin with a tight fist.

Hyunjin was moaning a lot, Felix was grunting a lot, you were borderline growling, and it was all so much, so intense, Felix could feel his entire body tensing, and he was ready to burst at any second now. 

The second you bit Felix’s lip, he couldn’t hold back anymore. Muttering a quick warning to no one in particular, and with a few more strokes, he finally came, spilling all over Hyunjin’s abdomen, his climax clouding his senses completely as all the tension finally left his body. He opened his eyes just enough to look at your hand around Hyunjin’s length, and if he hadn’t been lightheaded before he would’ve certainly been now at the sight.

“C’mon, Jinnie. Wanna come for us? For your precious mate and your dearest alpha?” Hyunjin frantically nodded in response to your question, gripping the bed sheets tightly in his fists, moaning and swearing and making all assortments of unintelligible noises under your ruthless grip.

With one final, drawn out moan, Hyunjin came, some of his seed dripped all over your fingers, while the rest landed on his torso, soiling him and mixing with Felix’s cum. As soon as the last drop was out of his mate, Felix dived, licking the mixture of their releases into his mouth. With his tongue thoroughly coated in their juices, he kissed Hyunjin, pushing his tongue into his mouth. 

Hyunjin whimpered, pushing his tongue against Felix’s briefly, until finally you came close, and Felix simply moved his head enough so you could join in. And truly, Felix had never felt any more fulfilled than he did in this very moment, sharing that kiss with his two favourite people in this world, in that mess of tongues and lips and fluids.

With a satisfied sigh he dropped on the bed, laying next to Hyunjin just as you left the room, picking up the used condom from the floor on your way out. When you returned with a soaked washcloth in your hand, you cleaned up the mess that had been left on Hyunjin’s abdomen, murmuring soft words of encouragement as you did so. Felix simply took the cloth from you after to wipe the remnants of his release from his length just as you laid next to Hyunjin, pulling him to your chest, and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

As soon as Felix turned on his side, pressing his chest to Hyunjin’s back, Hyunjin started to rumble, letting out a content sight at your soft caresses on his hair and at Felix’s tender kisses on his shoulder.

“You should stay”, Hyunjin mumbled against your chest after a while, making you chuckle.

“I can’t tonight, pup. I’ve got to prepare this whole thing at the den… They’ll be waiting for me”, you answered simply, and when you looked at Felix he gave you his best puppy eyes, adding a sad pout for good measure.

You gave him a smile in response, pinching one of his cheeks. “I really can’t, Lix. Don’t make this any harder for me”.

“We just… Miss you when you’re gone”, Felix pressed his body further against Hyunjin, just as you did the same, effectively sandwiching him further between you two.

“We do”, Hyunjin reaffirmed, practically suffocating between your breasts, probably exactly where he wanted to be.

You sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind Felix’s ear. “I miss you guys, too. But you know I just… Can’t leave my packmates. They’re my family. And I know you guys won’t leave Chris, so… This’ll have to do for now. We’ll figure something out eventually”.

Felix just hummed, closing his eyes for a bit to enjoy the warmth of your palm on his cheek, to enjoy the rumble of Hyunjin against his chest, to ignore the need to find that solution right now. There was no point in dwelling on it when it truly was a bit of a complicated situation, and his post-coital state certainly didn’t make it any easier to make logical decisions.

The three of you laid there for a while, just sharing some body heat, some light conversation, until you moved to the bathroom to clean up, until you eventually had to call it a night and leave.

As Felix laid in bed with Hyunjin that night, curled up in a ball at the foot of the bed just how he loved to do, he realised that, he had truly never believed in soulmates, but if such a thing existed, he was one hundred percent certain having one would feel just like it felt when he was with you and Hyunjin.

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Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy AU #stray kids werewolf au #felix smut #hyunjin smut #felix fluff #hyunjin fluff #felix angst #hyunjin angst #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfiction #felix fanfiction #hyunjin fanfiction #felix x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #✨🌙✏

[proseover-bros]

FOR THE ONES WE LOVE | CH. 1

FANDOM: The Walking Dead

SERIES: For the Ones We Love

STATUS: Ongoing

ERA: Prison

PAIRING: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Female Reader (No Use of “Y/N”)

CHAPTER ONE: Backseat Driver

WORD COUNT: 2k

SUMMARY: Daryl Dixon gets much more than he bargained for when his motorcycle breaks down while out on a run. Miles from the prison, he has no other choice but to hot-wire a car he comes across on the side of the road, only to discover that he wasn’t the first person to get there.

RATING: Mature

WARNINGS: Language, Mention of Attempted Sexual Assault, Symptoms of PTSD

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: While I’m not new to writing fanfic, this is my first attempt at Tumblr fanfic, which is somewhat different than what I’m used to. I have a whole backstory dreamed up for this character (she’s a nursing student who escaped from Grady Memorial after it was overtaken by Dawn and Gorman), but I know from what I’ve read of Tumblr fanfic, self-insert fics are preferred. This is my first attempt at that, so any constructive criticism is welcome. Please let me know your thoughts on the story as well. I have several chapters already written, just trying to decide what format to proceed with/if there’s an audience for it.

“Wow, thanks for that.”

At the sound of an unfamiliar voice coming from behind him, Daryl Dixon’s eyes flew to the rearview mirror as you sat up from where you’d been lying in the backseat of the car he’d just hot-wired. The all too familiar noise of a hammer clicking into place sounded as you lifted your arms, aiming a revolver directly at the back of his head.

With the way you trained the gun on him, combined with the intense gaze in your eyes, he knew that you’d shot it before.

Of course you had.

A woman, alone in this world?

There was no way in hell you could’ve survived as long as you had not knowing how to use a gun.

Daryl cut the engine and raised his hands. “This your car?”

You shrugged. “No, but I was here first.”

“I got it runnin’, that makes it more mine than yours.”

“I was getting to that.” You said defensively.

“Bullshit.” Daryl scoffed. “Ya don’t know how to hot-wire a car.”

“How do you know?”

“‘Cause ya ain’t that kinda girl.”

The stranger’s assumption pissed you off, but what pissed you off even more was the fact that he was right. Before he came along, you’d been close to having a full-on meltdown when finding the car just a few minutes earlier, only to discover that the keys were missing from the ignition. There’d been a hell of a lot of abandoned cars that you’d passed during your travels over the past couple of weeks, because apparently even after a goddamn apocalypse, nobody left their keys behind.

And who was he to pass judgement on you? With his Harley Davidson vest, greasy hair and the ability to steal a car in the first place, this guy was lucky you’d given him any warning at all. Although you hadn’t spoken to another human being since escaping the hospital, and were beginning to think you were missing even the most trivial of conversations, you had quickly come to the conclusion that human interaction was entirely overrated.

Especially with this particular human.

“How the hell do you know what kind of girl I am?” You practically growled.

Daryl hesitated, knowing that he ought to tread lightly, yet somehow his mouth decided to run off anyway. “Just do.”

Your eyes widened as you lunged forward to press the barrel of the gun to the back of his skull. “You don’t fucking know me.”

Dumbass, Daryl scolded himself.

What was he thinking, arguing with someone who was pressing a loaded gun to his head? After all this time spent fighting to survive, did he have a death wish all of a sudden?

With his hands still raised, Daryl nodded, his senses finally returning to him. “We can change that. I’m Daryl.”

Suddenly, a memory of your mother warning you not to talk to strangers appeared as the man introduced himself, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. After a few seconds, you lowered your gun and laughed out loud, no longer able to keep it inside.

The entire situation was absurd. You were running on zero sleep, hadn’t eaten anything in days, and hadn’t spoken to another soul since you’d left Atlanta. It was the most inappropriate thing in the world to be laughing in your current situation, and yet you couldn’t stop.

Daryl hesitated. He thought he might be okay at handling a pissed off woman — but a crazy, pissed off woman?

Might as well shoot myself now.

“Ya crazy or somethin’?” Daryl found himself asking.

You laughed harder at his question, leaning against the backseat as your sides started to ache. “Or something.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Ya gotta name or not?”

Once regaining your composure, you peered over the passenger seat and noticed the large crossbow that he’d laid down while working on getting the car started. You also noted the backpack slung over his shoulder with several arrows sticking out through the flap. “Give me your arrows and any other weapons you have. Maybe I’ll tell you then.”

“Don’t wanna know that bad.”

“Hah.” You rolled your eyes, aiming the revolver at his head once more. “Wasn’t asking.”

With an irritated grumble, Daryl shrugged off his bag and handed it over. There was a brief pause while he rummaged around in his pants and pulled out a pistol, extending it to you handle first.

“No knife?” You asked suspiciously. 

He cursed under his breath, but a few seconds later you had a hunting knife to add to your collection as well. Finally satisfied, you met his eyes in the rearview mirror and told him your name.

“You alone?”

“Looks like it.”

The silence between the two of you clung in the air like smoke. Daryl kept his eyes glued to you now that you had all of his weapons, minus his crossbow, which was useless without the bolts. 

He didn’t pride himself on much, but one of the few things that he’d always felt he excelled at was being a good judge of character. The woman in front of him was young, probably mid-twenties, and pretty. In Daryl’s experience, pretty women were absolute bitches, but not necessarily dangerous. Even so, he couldn’t brand you with that particular title just for pulling a gun on him. You were only protecting yourself.

“Mind lowerin’ that thing? I did give ya all my weapons.” Daryl reasoned.

You paused, but reluctantly lowered your gun, your eyes locked on his as you sat it down on your lap.

“How’s that?” You asked.

“Depends, can I turn around without havin’ to worry ‘bout ya blowin’ my head off?”

You stilled at his words but found yourself slowly nodding your head in agreement.

When Daryl turned all the way around to face you, you held your breath. The last time you’d been this close to a man, it was Gorman, and he had tried to assault you.

The world had been a dangerous place for women far longer than it had been for men. Men may have recently had to learn what it was like to fear strangers now that the world had ended, but it had aways been something to fear for women, which made it twice as frightening these days.

As you studied Daryl, you noticed that he had lighter facial hair than that on his head, and pale blue eyes. With his intense gaze and bare biceps, he had a rugged air about him that you had a feeling he’d always possessed. He seemed like the kind of man who didn’t need an apocalypse to know how to fight for his life.

The two of you remained as you were, staring at each other for a tense moment, sizing each other up and down as you both tried to decide whether or not the other was a threat.

“Lay down.” Daryl grunted.

“What?” You blanched, your hand moving towards the revolver once more.

“Down!” He hissed.

Jumping over the partition dividing the front and back sections of the car, Daryl slid to his knees, tucking himself in the floor space behind the passenger seat, his hands clutching you by the elbows as he pulled you down, tugging your body flush against the backseat cushions.

When Daryl grabbed you, your first thought was a vile one, but your grip around the gun relaxed ever so slightly when he landed beneath you rather than on top of you.

“What the fu—” You cried as you both lurched forward, a series of bangs sounding at the rear of the car. Rather than finish your crude sentence, you cut yourself off when Daryl’s hand covered your mouth. Feeling your jaw tense against his palm, he raised a finger to his lips when his eyes met yours, slowly easing his hand away as a horde of walkers appeared from a clearing in the woods by the side of the road.

You both remained that way for what truly could have been hours, the only sound being your heavy breathing and the groans of the horde as they trudged along either side of the car like cattle. When the noise finally died down some time later, Daryl held a hand out to signal for you to wait, then eased up on his haunches ever so slightly, peering out the front windshield to find that the horde had wandered off up the road.

Once given the all clear, you slowly lifted your body from the backseat, your hand instantly going to the side of your neck as you attempted to work out the kink that had formed there from laying in such an awkward position. 

“Jesus.” You muttered.

Remaining where he was for fear that you’d think he might try something now that he was in close proximity of his weapons, Daryl kept his eyes on you for a few silent seconds.

“Look, I know all about wantin’ to be alone, but no one can make it alone now. You can keep my weapons, even hold your damn gun on me while I drive, but I have a camp a few miles back. My bike broke down, s’why I was lookin’ for a ride, but I can take ya someplace secure. I’m with a group of people back at a prison.”

“A prison? Really?” You asked curiously.

Christ. Was that actual hope in your voice? Had the last year not completely crushed you of that?

“Yeah.” Daryl nodded. “There’s eight of us. Men, women, a boy, and a baby.” Nodding towards his backpack, he continued. “Open it.”

Cautiously moving your hand to his backpack, you unsnapped the top and drew back the flap to reveal several tins of powdered baby formula. Running your fingers over the lids, you hesitated, your eyes slowly returning to Daryl. If this was some kind of trick to get you to come along, it was pretty elaborate.

“I just gotta ask ya three questions first.” He said.

With your curiosity getting the better of you, you shrugged your shoulders. “Go for it.”

“How many walkers ya killed?”

“Walkers? You mean, the living dead freaks that have taken over the world?”

Daryl nodded.

“I don’t know. Who keeps track of that shit?”

Daryl had to admit, at least to himself, you had a point. But it was one of the questions that Rick insisted on asking newcomers, and he wasn’t about to start breaking his rules for anyone.

Seeing that Daryl wasn’t willing to budge on the question, you sighed as you thought about it. “A dozen, at least.”

“How many people ya killed?”

Your mind instantly went to the lifeless eyes of Gorman and Dawn. 

“Two.” You answered, without a hint of remorse.

“Why?” He asked.

You stared at him, expressionless. “I’m a woman and I’ve pretty much been on my own since the world ended. Why do you think?”

Daryl stared right back at you, and in his fierce blue gaze, you knew that he understood you completely. 

“All right, let’s go.”

“That’s it? I passed?” You asked, surprised.

“Looks like it.” He grunted, using your choice of words from earlier and earning a small smile from you because of it.

“Okay.” You agreed. “I’ll ride back here, and I won’t hold my gun on you . . . unless you drive too slow.”

“Pfft.” Daryl scoffed as he climbed back over to the driver’s side and began to work on restarting the car. “Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that.”

CHAPTER TWO

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl fanfiction #daryl fanfic #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #fanfiction #frenemies to lovers #mutual pining #eventual smut

[murpyperpy]

If you need to be mean be mean to me.

“Hobie please don’t make me beg” you say softly reaching out to him.

CW: Angsty Depressing :( Drugs Alcohol

There’s a buzz in the air, an electric feeling your heart pumps your eye open wider. Every breath is a gift from god.

“Fuck yeahggghhg!” You shout sober no longer. Fuck this night just got so much better. You scan the room Chris is chatting up Amy I’ll leave them alone hehe Damian might actually get laid! Wow good luck to him. You swerve around the room of the persons house your partying in and make you way to the drink table.

“Slim pickings huh!” You shout over the music to the stranger on the other side of the table.

That’s how you meet hobie his dazzling dark eyes his smile the way he sniffs and readjusts his posture made you fall in love. The party light refelecting off his skin as he stared at you in the way he does so often. The attention he show you in that night started your constant craving for his approval and exclusivity.

On this particular occasion you were on his bed it wasn’t a special as you hoped because so was 2 other randoms plus Damian. Hobie had unified us all to watch his band preform. Of course you loved his music and tried to show him. Bobbing your head to the beat. Tapping your foot. Smiling wide laughing louder. It’s like in these moments you forgot how to be human and got in your own way. The reminders to be charming more attractive than the two randoms. You clap harder and even sway side to side. Move to the beat.

“Thank ya wonderful audience!” Hobie shouts.

“WOOOO” You shout as we clap and cheer. A hobie looks at you in that way like he’s the one he cares about. You desperately want him to like you. To think you’re half a cool and you think he is.

Hours later your laying on his bed this time to your satisfaction it’s just a you. The time is almost midnight and your collapsed trying to fall asleep and watch hobie clean up his band things at the same time.

“You didn’t answer my question love” he says quietly

“Ummmmm “ you groan “say again?” He had been asking you questions for the last hour trying to keep you awake to keep him company.

“I asked you love” he replied “If you have ever had a pet?”

“A pet a pet a pet “ you yawn trying to think. “I I don’t know” you I close slowly and you fall asleep. Hobie notices your breath slowing and slumped shoulders.

“Oh baby” He covers you with a blanket. He stare at you for a while suddenly not wanting to make anymore noise. Or selfishly ask you anymore questions. Hobie showers letting the water run over his skin his mind stays on you. When he comes back it’s fully dark, sliding into his bed he uses his other senses to know your there. The weight on the mattress your smell the slow sound of your breath.

Hobie feels at peace. He tells him self he will make he will have a move soon.

Hellooooo

Tori here. I will finish this story soon I just thought I should post it in case someone wanted to read! <3

Please comment to tell me what you think about this story? ❤️😁

#hobie x reader #spider punk #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderman

[sagesolsticewrites]

“i can’t keep kissing strangers, pretending they’re you.” | Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

12 years ago, Elvis chose his career over you. What happens when he shows up at your door asking for a second chance?

a/n: this is entirely based on a dialogue prompt I saw from @twelvegods: “I can’t keep kissing strangers, pretending they’re you.” apparently it was a really good prompt because it inspired all 8,735 words of this lol. I I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it <3 Thank you all again so so so much for 500 followers!!

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: a couple swear words, lots of angst in the first half, Y/N has trust issues oops, I think that's it? As always, please let me know if I missed anything!

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

“I’m gonna marry you someday.”

That’s what Elvis Presley had said to you when he was just 20 years old and his career was starting to take off, thanks in large part (as Elvis said) to the Colonel. And you, being the young girl in love that you were, believed him.

What a fool you were.

You managed to stay together for another year before the Colonel, his claws digging into Elvis’s heart and soul to bleed all the green he could out of him, managed to convince him that appearing single would be what was best for his career— he had to let all those screaming girls believe they had a chance with him, after all.

“Baby please,” Elvis pleaded, “this is for my career. I promise it won’t be for long. We’ll get back together, you’ll see.”

You shook your head, “No, Elvis. I’m not gonna sit around waiting for you like some damsel in distress. If you want me, keep me. But otherwise…”

You paused, waiting for him to say something. Begging, pleading, praying he would say something, that you had managed to change his mind.

When he said nothing, you exploded.

You had screamed and cried, and he had screamed and cried, and you had taken your things that had made their way into his room in Graceland and stormed out of his life for good, only pausing to give him one final sincere “I love you” before you walked out the door.

The last image you had of him (that wasn’t on a tv screen or poster) was of him standing in the foyer in Graceland, tears streaming down his face, refusing to chase after you.

You hoped that time would eventually heal your wounded heart, but apparently whoever said time heals all wounds was a fucking idiot because it was now just over a decade later and you were still as in love with Elvis Presley as you had been when you were one of the only girls in the world who knew his name.

He, evidently, didn’t feel the same.

That much was clear, at least, based on the way he was still overly flirtatious with his audience in his shows, not to mention the rumors about relationships with his movie co-stars. In his shows, before he went off to Germany, he had taken to stepping down into the audience and kissing practically every woman in the room. That alone cleared any remaining doubts from your mind that he still thought about you in any capacity, despite that little voice in the back of your head that still held out some futile, desperate hope.

You’re about to curl up on the couch with some tea and your copy of Anne of Green Gables — exactly what you need on a rainy day like today — when someone knocks on your door.

“You expecting anyone, Y/N?” your friend Annie calls from the hall. You had been living with her for about 5 years down in Louisiana, after the memories in Memphis had become too much, and you loved it.

“Nope,” You call back, wondering who on earth would be knocking on doors in this weather. “If it’s one of those door-to-door salesmen, slam it in his face again.” You suggest with a laugh.

“Will do,” comes her reply, and you can hear the smile in her voice.

You turn you attention back to your book as the door opens, and nearly spill your tea all over yourself as you hear a sultry drawl you hadn’t heard in person in over a decade.

“Hi Annie… is Y/N here?”

There’s a moment of silence where you’re sure Annie is as stunned as you are, then:

“Maybe,” she replies curtly, “What do ya want?”

Annie knew the whole story of you and Elvis, and she had sworn that she’d never let you get hurt like that ever again.

“Please, Annie, I just wanna talk to her.”

“And why should I let you? You’ve got a lotta nerve comin’ here after what you did—“

You’re not sure what prompts you to set your book and mug down and sigh “Annie, just let him in,” but you’re just as surprised as Annie is that you did.

She reluctantly steps aside to let him in, eyeing him warily the entire time.

Your eyes drink him in; this is the first time you’re seeing him in person in over 12 years, and your mind automatically catalogs the differences since you last saw him. He’s tanned, with a few more freckles, a result of the California sun, no doubt, and tinted glasses hide his eyes. His burgundy suit is soaked, and his hair, which was no doubt carefully styled before, now flops onto his forehead, dripping into his eyes.

He takes off his sunglasses, revealing tired blue eyes. From the way his eyes track along your body, he was drinking you in the same way you had done him.

There’s a beat of silence, then his eyes finally meet yours.

“Hi,” he says softly.

You maintain a straight face, unwilling to be taken in so easily.

“What do you want?” you ask, your voice cold. You want nothing more than to rush into his arms, but you remind yourself: he chose his career over you, and never looked back.

“I fired the Colonel,” he blurts, after several moments of trying to figure out what to say.

“About time,” you snort, dropping your serious demeanor for a split second, “but what does that have to do with me?”

“I made a mistake, Y/N. A lotta mistakes, really, but letting you go was the biggest one I ever made in my life. I missed you so, so much, and I—“

You cut him off, “Elvis, cut the shit. You made it very clear you moved on from me.”

“Y/N, I never stopped thinkin’ about you, I promise.”

“Sure, and was that before or after you kissed every girl in the audience at the end of every damn show?”

“Y/N, I—“ he starts, frustrated, then takes a deep breath. He starts again, calmer, softer, “I know how that looks. But I… I can’t keep kissing strangers, pretending they’re you.” He looks earnestly into your eyes.

You feel your cracked heart melt just a little at his words, and yet…

“I don’t…” you sigh, “I don’t believe you. You put your career before me over a decade ago, and I tried to move on, but I couldn’t when I was seeing your face and hearing your voice everywhere, and it hurt like hell. And now you walk back in here, tell me you just made a mistake, and… what? Expect me to take you back just like that?”

“Please, Y/N,” he says, an echo of his plea back when he broke your heart for the first time, “I know I messed up bad, but… it’s you. It’s always been you, with those girls in the audience, even with Ann-Margret… I was always thinkin’ about you. And I’m willin’ to do whatever I have to to fix this. Anything. I mean it.”

And you can see the conviction in his eyes, like he’s that little boy again who believed he was Captain Marvel Jr. and could fly his family out of poverty to the Rock of Eternity. You know in your bones that he’d buy you the moon if it meant he could love you again.

But you’d made the mistake of believing his promises before.

“Elvis, I don’t know if I can trust you. How do I know you won’t drop me when your next manager thinks that’d be ‘what’s best for your career’?”

He winces as you throw the Colonel’s words from all those years ago back in his face. “I know I ruined any kind of trust you had in me that day, and I can’t tell you enough how goddamn sorry I am, Y/N. But I’m not askin’ for you to forgive me right now, I just want a chance to try and fix this. That’s all, I swear.”

He waits as you process his words, practically holding his breath as you think of how to reply.

“I’ll think about it,” you say softly.

He nods. “That’s all I’m askin’ for, sw— Y/N,” he fumbles to avoid using the old pet name for you.

“I think you should go now,” you say, your voice cold again to hide how the almost-pet name brought a storm of feelings rushing back..

“Right, um..” he fumbles around in his pocket, producing a scrap of paper with a phone number scrawled on it, “Gimme a call, if you want? I’ve gotta head back to Memphis in a couple days, that’ll probably be the easiest way to reach me if you, uh, decide anything.”

“Okay,” you nod, glancing at it quickly before stuffing it in your pocket. The number was for Graceland’s house phone; a number you’d never forgotten for a second, not that you’d be telling Elvis that.

“Well, um… bye Y/N, Annie,” he nods as he moves past your roommate towards the door. He pauses, hesitating for a moment before turning back to you. “You look good, Y/N,” he says softly before heading back out into the downpour.

The “you, too” you whisper in reply is lost in the sound of rain hitting the pavement outside.

The enormity of everything that had just transpired suddenly hits you and you fall back onto the couch, tears welling up in your eyes.

Annie rushes over, concerned. You look up as she fusses over you.

“Was that… did that actually just happen?”

Annie nods, “Yeah, it did, honey. I can scarcely believe it myself.”

“Did I do the right thing?” You wring your hands, suddenly second-guessing every decision you made during the interaction with Elvis.

“I know I’ve always said that I’d punch him in his smug face if he ever showed up here after what he did to you,” Annie says, “But I see the way you look at him when he shows up on the TV, and that ain’t the look of someone who’s just angry at an ex. You’re still in love with him, honey, I know it, and I feel like a fresh start is what both of you need. I don’t mean to overstep,” she drawls, “But if I can give you some advice: just start over as friends. Don’t jump back into a relationship right away. Try to make it organic. A clean slate.”

“A clean slate,” you echo, processing her words.

You mull over what to do for a few days, worst and best-case scenarios swirling around your brain, and eventually dial Graceland. Your foot taps anxiously as you lean against the wall by the phone, listening to it ring.

“Hullo?” A raspy voice comes over the receiver.

“Hi, Elvis,” you say, trying your best to sound casual, “It’s, uh, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh, hey,” he stammers, sounding less like the confident King of Rock and Roll superstar and more like the shy little kid you’d grown up with, “Uh, how are you?”

“I’m alright.” You reply, “Look, I did some thinking about what you said and, well… I’ve got a couple questions before I decide anything.”

“Sure, yeah, what is it?”

“Well, first of all… why now?”

“Huh?”

You sigh, “It’s been over 10 years, Elvis. What made you come back now? What made you fire the Colonel after all this time?”

“Well, to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t very happy with the movies the Colonel was signing me up for. And then he planned this whole silly special for NBC…” he sighs, “I’ve been lost ever since I lost Mama— before that, even, when I lost—“ he cuts himself off with an awkward cough, “uh, anyway; he wasn’t helping. And I finally realized that he didn’t really care what I wanted to do. It was all about profit for him,” he says quietly. He goes on to explain hiring Binder and Bones to help with the special, to “find himself” again, and the realization he’d had that he hadn’t truly felt like himself since he’d left you.

“Hm,” is your only response at first, trying to shove down the warmth growing in your chest. “Well, um… thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome. I want you to know, Y/N… you can trust me. I know I ruined that back then, but I’d really like a chance to try and rebuild it with you if I can.”

“I think I’d like that, too.” You say after a moment of silence. “Look, Elvis, I… I don’t think it would be a good idea, if we’re gonna do this, to pick up right where we left off. We need a… a clean slate. So what if we started over as friends?” You fidget with the phone cord as you await his reply.

There are several moments of silence, and you're wondering if something happened with the call before his raspy drawl comes over the phone once more.

“I’d love to be your friend again, Y/N.”

A wave of relief floods your body, and you smile. You think for a moment before speaking again, saying hesitantly, “I’m coming up to visit for Mama’s birthday next weekend, and… maybe we could see each other then? That would be a ‘friend’ thing to do, right?”

“Yeah, I’d… I’d really like that.”

“Great, well,” you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, “I’ll just give you a call when I’m back home and we can figure everything out then?”

“Whatever works for you is fine with me,” he assures you, “I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

“Me, too,” you say softly, allowing a tiny bit of the warmth you felt earlier to creep back. “I’ll see you next weekend, then.”

“See you then,” he says and with a click, the phone is back to humming a dial tone.

You’re buzzing with anticipation for the next week, not only excited to see your family but also to see Elvis.

“Y/N!” Your mother rushes out as you pull into the driveway of your family’s Memphis home, “My baby’s home!”

“Happy birthday, Mama,” you smile as she rushes up to give you a hug, squeezing you tight.

“Thank you, darlin’. Come inside, honey, come in!” she insists, grabbing your suitcase from you despite your protests.

“Honey!” she calls to your father as she leads you into your childhood home, “Look who’s finally decided to come for a visit!”

“Mama, I was just here for Easter,” you remind her as you head to the living room to greet your father. “Hi Daddy,” you smile as he pulls you in for a hug.

“Good to see you, sweetheart,” he says, “Louisiana treatin’ you well?”

You nod, “Mhm. Everyone’s real nice, and Annie’s always lookin’ out for me.”

You fill your parents in on life in Louisiana, and in return they (your mother, mostly) regale you with all the Memphis gossip you’ve missed. Apparently the young couple next door had a baby recently, another young couple in town just got married, and oh yes, Elvis came back fr—

“Mary Ann, you know I don’t like talkin’ about that boy!” your father exclaims, cutting your mother off.

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to do, Walter,” your mother retorts, “It’s not as if we can pretend he doesn’t exist, not when he’s such a big part of this town…”

As you listen to your parents bicker, you decide that now might as well be as good a time as any to bring up your new friendship.

“Actually, Mama,” you interrupt their bickering, “I’m gonna try and meet up with Elvis while I’m in town this weekend…”

Your father’s expression flickers between confusion and anger at your words, while your mother’s morphs into one of delight.

“Oh honey, that’s wonderful!” She exclaims, “Though I admit, I thought you’d’ve at least called to tell us you got back together—“

“Mama!” You cut her off, heat flooding your face, “We’re not back together, I promise,” you add with a glance over to your father. “He showed up at our place last week, we had a talk, and we’re gonna try to be friends again.”

“Well I’m glad to see the two of you are startin’ over, honey,” your mother says with a smile

“I still don’t trust that boy,” your father grumbles. “Just… be careful, alright?”

You nod, “Of course, you know I always am, Daddy.”

”When were you two planning on meeting up?” your mother asks.

You shrug, “We haven’t figured out the details yet. I was gonna call him today to sort everything out.”

”Well you should invite him over for dinner while you’re in town.” your mother suggests, with just a hint of a mischievous sparkle in her eye, ignoring your father’s clear alarm at the suggestion.

You groan. “Mama, no, he really doesn’t need to come for dinner—“

”Y/N L/N, inviting a friend over for dinner is a polite thing to do,” your mother scolds, “and in this house we are always…?”

“Polite and respectful,” you mumble, repeating the words that had been drilled into you in childhood.

She nods, satisfied. ”It’s settled then. You two will have your little meetup and then he can come over for dinner that night, or the next if it suits him.”

”Yes, Mama,” you say, resigned. “I’ll go call him now.”

You make your way over to the kitchen, dialing the number you’ve had memorized for over 12 years.

“Hello?” The same raspy voice comes over the receiver.

”Hey, it’s um, it’s me. Y/N.”

”Oh, hey. Um, how are ya?”

”I’m alright. I’m back in town now, and Mama’s bein’… well, Mama, so you can imagine.” you say with a soft laugh.

”Oh, I can imagine,” he agrees, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “How was the drive up?”

The two of you make small talk for a bit, slowly easing back into being a part of each other’s lives, and eventually you remember the reason you called. “Oh, yeah, by the way; I was calling to see if there was a day or time that worked for you as far as meeting up this weekend?”

”Oh, yeah.” You can hear some rustling on his end, and you assume he’s checking his schedule. “I’m actually free this afternoon around 1 if that works? Or tomorrow?”

You weren’t prepared to see him quite so soon, but you suppose now is better than putting it off until tomorrow. “This afternoon is perfect. You still like that diner on Beale Street, right?”

He hums an affirmative, and you smile, “Great, I’ll meet you there at 1, then.”

”I’ll see you then,” and the line clicks back to a dial tone.

You head back to the living room, entering to see your parents doing a wonderfully poor job of pretending as though they weren’t listening to your conversation. You roll your eyes.

”I assume you already heard, but Elvis and I are meeting for lunch at 1, just as friends, Mama,” you say pointedly, noting the beam on your mother’s face. “I’ll ask him about dinner then.”

Your father harrumphs, but mainly keeps silent, a firm frown on his face.

”That’s wonderful, honey,” your mother beams, “You’ve gotta get goin’ pretty soon then, huh?”

“Huh?” You glance over at the clock on the mantle and sure enough, it’s already 15 past noon and you still haven’t changed out of the outfit you wore for the 6-hour drive up to Memphis. You grab your suitcase and race to make yourself presentable, managing to change into a dress that seems nice enough for a lunch outing (but not too fancy), fix your windswept hair, and reapply your makeup in a cool 30 minutes before racing out the door.

Before you can make it out to the porch, though, your father stops you, calling your name as you’re about to step out the door. You turn, “Yes, Daddy?”

He has a solemn look on his face. “Just… be careful, darlin’. You know me, I hold grudges like no one else, and I admit I still haven’t forgiven him for what he did to you all those years ago. If you let him in, and he hurts you again somehow I… I don’t know what I’d do.”

You step back into the room and envelop him in a hug. “Thank you for looking out for me, Daddy. I’ll be careful, I promise. I’m not the same girl I was when I met him.” You add with a sad smile.

He squeezes your hand comfortingly, “I know you’ll be smart. If he does anything, you come right to me and I’ll sort him out, alright?” You nod and, satisfied, he kindly shoos you out the door with a soft “Go on, have fun.”

You pull up to the diner to find that Elvis is already there, if the deep purple Cadillac parked nearby is any indication.

He waves from a booth near the back as you enter, his bodyguards seated at a table nearby. You slide into the seat across from him, pushing down the butterflies that threaten to stir. It might’ve been a bad idea to choose the place you went on your first date, you realize belatedly, but too late now.

“How are you?” he asks with a casual smile.

“Pretty good,” you reply, “My parents have been updating me on all the Memphis gossip I’ve missed since I was away, very exciting stuff,” you say sarcastically. “Mama says hi, by the way.”

“Tell her I say hi back,” he grins.

“Will do. Uh, how are you?” You say, trying to fall back into the rhythm of talking to him.

“I’m alright. There’s this big thing I’m gonna be workin’ on soon, I’m pretty excited for it.”

“Oh, big thing?” You ask, your interest piqued.

“It’s a…” he pauses, looking around, “no one really knows about it yet, so you gotta promise not to tell anyone, alright?”

You nod, and he continues, leaning in to whisper, “You remember that special I told you about, the one that Steve and Bones are helpin’ me with? It’s gonna be a TV special for NBC. A Christmas show, kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Well, it’ll have a couple of Christmas songs, but I really want it to be about finding myself again. Gettin’ back to the real Elvis.”

“Sounds exciting,” you reply, a genuine smile coming across your face at how excited he seems.

A starstruck waitress comes to take your order, and the conversation continues.

“So,” Elvis says, “how are you doin’ in Louisiana?”

“I actually really like it there,” you reply, smiling. “Annie’s great, obviously, and I found a job at a bookstore that I really love, things are goin’ pretty well. I do have the occasional grumpy customer, but that’s just how it is.” You finish with a shrug.

“Grumpy customer? Sounds like you’ve got some stories to tell,” he says, sounding genuinely interested, and you can’t help but launch into the story of a man who was sure that Stranger in a Strange Land was in the nonfiction section no matter how many times you tried to lead him over to science fiction.

You finally fall back into a rhythm of friendly conversation, trading stories for over an hour before you finally bring up what your mother had asked.

“Oh by the way,” you say, sipping your milkshake, “Mama wanted me to invite you to dinner tomorrow night.”

Elvis nearly chokes on the fry he’s just taken a bite of. “Sorry, what?”

“I told my parents that we were meeting up and she was adamant that I at the very least invite you to come over for dinner tomorrow— you know how she is about politeness—“ you explain, “but I promise, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I completely understand, I’d be more than happy to make up an excuse for you.”

“And refuse an invitation from Mrs. L/N? It’s like you want her to kill me,” he jokes. “I’d be more than happy to come,” he says, in a more sincere tone. “Besides, friends come over for dinner right?”

“Of course,” you say, trying to reassure yourself as much as him, “and Mama’s very excited to see you, so be prepared for that.”

“I always am,” he replies with a smile.

You arrange for him to come over at 7 the next night, and the rest of lunch goes smoothly until the check arrives, which starts off a round of bickering between the two of you about who should pay.

“Please let me get this, I want this to be a start to making it up to you,” Elvis argues.

“I appreciate it but I’m perfectly capable of paying for lunch, thank you very much,” you retort, and this goes on for several minutes before the two of you eventually agree to split the check.

“It was good to see you, Y/N,” Elvis says as you exit the diner, his bodyguards dutifully on alert as they follow you out.

“You, too.” You say. “I…” I didn’t realize just how much I missed you, is what you want to say, but instead, you go with “I had a good time.”

His face lights up as if those 5 little words were all he needed to brighten his day. He steps towards the Cadillac, throwing a friendly wave to you as he calls “See you tomorrow!”

You wave back, and you don’t realize how happy you are until your cheeks start to ache from smiling on the drive home.

The next day, your mother is practically frantic, bustling around the house making sure everything is perfect for when Elvis gets here.

“Mama, it’s not like it’s the first time he’s ever been here! And we’re just friends, please try to remember that.”

“Alright, alright, I know, honey. I just think it’s nice that you two are spending time together again, that’s—“

The doorbell rings, and your mother jumps into action, plucking microscopic bits of lint from your dress before hurrying to the door and opening it with a polite smile.

Elvis stands on your porch, bearing a polite smile and a bouquet of lilacs. “Hello, Mrs. L/N.”

“Hello, Elvis!” Your mother beams, “It’s wonderful to see you again. And you brought Y/N flowers, how sweet!” She looks pointedly at you.

Elvis lets out a nervous laugh as he steps into the house, “Actually, Mrs. L/N, these are for you. A birthday gift.” He holds out the bouquet to her with a shy smile, looking remarkably like the shy boy he had been back in ‘51 when you first became friends.

“That’s very kind of you, thank you dear. Wasn’t that kind of him, Walter?”

“Very kind,” your father grumbles in a tone that makes it seem as though Elvis had brought a pile of mud as a gift. He nods a greeting, “Hello, Elvis. California’s treatin’ you well, I hear.”

“Uh, yes, sir, it is. Thank you.” he replies.

When your father doesn’t respond, Elvis turns his attention to you. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you reply, resisting the urge to fuss with your dress.

The awkward silence that follows is broken as your mother ushers everyone to the dining room, arranged so she and your father are at the heads of the table while you and Elvis are sitting across from one another.

The meal begins, and the conversation that follows is strained but polite, with your mother eagerly asking questions about life in California and Hollywood and Elvis answering modestly then turning the conversation back to your family, remaining the picture of a Southern gentleman. The conversation remains polite apart from your father’s not-so-subtle grumbling about Elvis running off the California, and just when you think it can’t get any worse, he decides to bring up the rumors of Elvis’s womanizing.

“So, Elvis,” your father says casually, though his eyes remain calculating, “what’s all this I hear about you and… what’s that actress’s name, Ann-Margret? Or have you moved on to someone new by now?”

You feel your face flush, and you’re sure the mortification shows on your face as you hiss for your father to stop, please.

“Oh well sir, that’s really all just the tabloids tryin’ to get their stuff to sell, there’s no truth to that at all, I promise. Ann-Margret is a good friend of mine now, though.” Elvis answers politely, unfazed as your mother quietly scolds your father.

“Walter, quit it, you’re scarin’ the boy!”

“Well good, he should be scared after what he did to my little girl!”

“Dad!” you exclaim, mortified, “We talked about this! We’re friends now, you promised you’d be polite!”

“No, it’s alright, Y/N,” Elvis assures you, briefly breaking eye contact with your father to glance over at you, “He’s just lookin’ out for you like any father would, and I respect you for that, sir.”

Your father grunts a reply, and the conversation picks up again, still polite but even more strained than before.

Elvis remains as polite as ever, even offering to take care of the dishes — “Oh I can get those plates for ya, don’t you worry Mrs. L/N” — and despite your determination for a clean slate, your mind betrays you, reminding you of how shy and overly polite he was the first few times he was over for dinner, especially after the two of you first got together. Sure, he’s gotten a little more confident, which you’ll admit is kind of attractive, but— NO.

You firmly cut off that train of thought, no matter how badly that little voice in the back of your head (the one that practically melted at the sight of him at your door with a bouquet, reminiscent of your first date) wants to keep on track. Just friends, clean slate, you remind yourself.

After the dishes are done, your mother prepares coffee for everyone and the four of you head to the living room. At one point, Elvis gets up to get a refill, and your father follows him.

Your father approaches Elvis once it’s clear that neither you nor your mother will be getting up, and corners him.

“Now Elvis, I’m gonna try to be polite, because my daughter’s told me you two are tryin’ to be friends and I respect her wishes, but I don’t trust you after what you did to her. And if I get even a hint that you’re playin’ with her feelings, well… I’m afraid that won’t end well for ya, son.”

Elvis nods quickly, “Sir I promise you, I have no intentions of playing with your daughter’s feelings. She’s very dear to me, and I swear I’d do anything to make sure she’s happy.” He says, conviction clear in his eyes.

Your father eyes Elvis for several long moments and, apparently satisfied, returns to the living room with more coffee for you and your mother.

Elvis takes a breath to compose himself — he’s forgotten how scary your father could be when he wanted to — and exits the kitchen, re-entering as you’re laughing at some comment your mother made.

You turn as he enters with a wide smile on your face, and he’s suddenly slammed back to a time where you looked at him like that every time he entered a room— when you looked at him as though he’d hung the moon and stars just for you.

Fighting the urge to rush over and kiss you senseless — that’s not something a friend would do, he reminds himself — he moves to sit in the armchair across from you, turning his attention to whatever neighbor your mother is gossiping about tonight.

The night eventually winds to a close and Elvis thanks your parents profusely for “a wonderful meal and even better company.”

Your mother waves off the compliment modestly, “Oh it was nothin’ darling. We’ll be glad to have you back anytime. Y/N, why don’t you walk our guest out while we take care of these last few things?” she says, gesturing to the coffee mugs still sitting out.

Elvis gives one last wave to your parents, wishing them well, before stepping out to the porch with you.

“Well, my parents loved you,” you tease as the two of you make your way to the pink Cadillac looking more than slightly out of place in your modest gravel driveway.

He lets out a shy laugh, “They haven’t changed a bit, that’s for sure. Your daddy’s still as protective as ever.” His tone softens as he continues, “It was nice seein’ them again. ‘Specially your mama. She’s always been better to me than I deserve.”

Acting on impulse, you lean over and squeeze his hand as you remember his own mama isn’t waiting for him at home anymore. “You’re welcome over anytime. I mean it.”

“Thank you,” he replies in a near whisper. Your hand stays clasped with his, the warmth of him tempting you closer, and his gaze drifts slowly down to your lips before the two of you snap back to yourselves and create a respectable two feet of distance between you.

“Uh, anyway,” you attempt to continue the conversation, refusing to acknowledge that moment of… whatever that was, “Are you gonna be here for a while longer?”

He shakes his head, “I’m actually gonna be leaving for California again tomorrow.” he says almost apologetically, adding with a nod to the house, “But I’ll still be able to call ya for a bit, right?”

A frown crosses your face as you remember: “I’m actually headin’ back to Louisiana tomorrow. But,” you brighten, “I can give you my number for down there if you want?”

“I’d love that,” Elvis smiles.

You rummage around in your pockets for anything you can scribble on, producing some long-forgotten shopping list and a small pen. You scrawl your phone number down and hand it to him, determinedly not noticing the sparks you feel as your fingers brush.

“I’ll call ya every night,” he says as he stuffs it in his pocket, “I’ll need ya to keep me updated on all the Louisiana gossip, hm?”

A sad smile crosses your face at the memory of the last time he’d made a promise like that. Despite all your talk of a clean slate, you can’t help but remind him, “Let’s not make promises you can’t keep, Elvis.”

You give him one last wave, wish him goodnight, and walk back inside, his pleas of “What? No, Y/N, this ain’t gonna be like that!” falling on deaf ears.

You put on a brave face for your parents the next day, joking about what a coincidence it was that both you and Elvis happened to be leaving town on the same day, but behind closed doors, you’re unable to block the memories of the last time he had promised he’d call you every night: when he went along with the Colonel on Hank Snow’s tour.

1955

“I’ll be back in time for prom, darlin’, I promise,” Elvis reassures you over the phone. “I’ll bring you a corsage, we’ll have a great time.”

“Okay,” you reply, “I’m sorry, I know I must sound silly, but I’m just really lookin’ forward to going with you.”

“That’s not silly,” he assures you with a soft laugh, “I’m lookin’ forward to it, t—“ he cuts off, and you can barely make out what sounds like a knock on the door on his end of the line. “That’ll be Scotty again, no doubt.” he groans good-naturedly. There’s some shuffling as he makes his way over, yanking the door open with a “Scotty, how many times do I have to tell ya—“

“Elvis?” you say, concerned at how he cuts off mid-sentence, “Is everything alright?”

There’s a moment of silence, after which he stammers out a response.

“I, uh… I gotta go, I’ll call ya back, darlin’, alright?”

He doesn’t bother to wait for an answer before hanging up, but in the split second before it goes to a dial tone you can just make out a woman’s sultry voice over the receiver.

1968 - Present Day

He had still called after that, but not as frequently; certainly not every day like he promised. And while you forgave what happened on tour, you had never quite forgotten what him being away for a stretch of time could mean.

Still. Clean slate. Maybe this time could be different, you reasoned, though you were barely convincing yourself at this point.

You head back to Louisiana, promising your parents you’ll visit again soon and that you’ll give them a call as soon as you get home. You stumble through the door of your little house, exhausted after the 6-hour drive. Annie rushes over to hug you.

“Hey honey! Good to have ya home,” she grins, taking your suitcase from you, “I’ve got lunch for ya, you go sit down. I’ll put this in your room. And then I wanna hear all about how that li’l meetup went,” she adds with a wink, gently shoving you towards the kitchen while she heads down the hall.

You smile as you enter the kitchen to see a little card with the words “Welcome Home” in Annie’s signature scrawl next to a plate on the counter. You take a bite of the sandwich waiting for you — grilled cheese, Annie’s specialty — and finally allow yourself to relax. At that moment, Annie slides in with a mischievous grin, plopping herself down on the stool next to you.

“So…” she leads, a sparkle in her eye. “How was it?”

“It was good,” you reply, purposefully misinterpreting her question, “We took Mama out for dinner and I made her a cake—”

Annie cuts you off with a playful swat to your arm, “Not that! Elvis,” she says, dragging out the ‘s’ longer than necessary.

You roll your eyes, “Fine! It was… fine. We met up for lunch at this old diner we used to go to, we talked… Mama had me invite him over for dinner, and he brought flowers for her” you say pointedly, noticing the gleam in her eyes. “It went well, all things considered. Daddy did have some things to say, he still hasn’t quite forgiven him for what he did, but Elvis was a real gentleman the whole time. He actually went back to California today, filming somethin’ for TV, but he said he wants to keep in touch.”

“That’s great, honey!” Annie squeals, “I’m glad y’all are doin’ well.”

You give a weak smile in return. “Yeah, he said he’s gonna call every day, but…”

“Oh…” Annie’s eyes soften in understanding, recalling what you had told her about your relationship before. “Y/N, I know it might be scary, but what if it’s different this time? What if he actually keeps his promise? He’s said he wants to work on trust with you again, right? This is the perfect opportunity for him to prove to you that he’s worth trusting. And if he doesn’t,” she adds in a lighter tone, “I’ll fly out to California and sock him right in his pretty face myself.”

“I know you will,” you laugh, “but you’re right, I’ll—“

You’re cut off as the phone rings, and you lock eyes with Annie. It can’t be him already, can it? No, it’s probably your parents calling to make sure you made it home safely, you reason as you move to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N,” the heavy drawl surprises you, and you nearly miss what Elvis says next, “I’m glad I caught you, I was callin’ a bit ago and got quite a tellin’ off from Annie sayin’ that you weren’t there yet.”

At that you turn to glare at Annie, who only gives you a smug, mischievous smirk in return.

“Yeah, I just got in maybe twenty minutes ago,” you reply, the shock slowly fading into a kind of warmth as his voice washes over you.

“How was the drive?”

“Long,” you say with a laugh, “I’m glad to be home now. How’s California?”

“‘S alright,” he replies, “I just got back from finalizing some stuff with Steve for filming tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah,” you recall your conversation from a few days ago, “The Christmas special, right? Or,” you correct yourself, “the not-entirely-Christmas special.”

“Exactly,” he laughs, “I’m actually pretty excited about it.”

“That’s good,” you smile, “I hope everything goes well.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says sincerely. “But anyway, enough about me. How are you?”

“Well, Annie had one of her famous grilled cheeses waiting for me when I got here so I’d say we’re off to a pretty good start. Tomorrow’s an inventory day at work, though, not nearly as exciting as filming a special for NBC.”

He sucks in a breath in sympathy, “I remember you never liked those days. Good luck with that,” he says, “and I’ll tell ya what: I’ll make sure to tell you all about the boring parts of filming so ya don’t get too jealous, how ‘bout that?” he teases

“Sounds perfect,” you laugh.

You don’t even notice the time flying by as the conversation continues, the two of you talking about everything and nothing, and you fall into a rhythm of talking for hours every night. Slowly, the nagging fear you feel that today’s the day he won’t call starts to fade, and you look forward to your nightly chats where you fill him in on any interesting customers and he tells you about the goofs he made that day during filming.

“I’m not kiddin’, I legitimately forgot the words!” he laughs.

Your only reply is to laugh even harder at the image of him surrounded by cameras forgetting the words to Heartbreak Hotel.

“Alright, come on, it ain’t that funny,” he says in a mock-hurt tone.

“Oh, I promise it is,” you say, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye, “I might need you to send me a copy or whatever of these goofs, I haven’t laughed this hard in ages.”

“I’ll see if I can arrange that for ya…” he replies, his voice trailing off as he seemingly turns away from the receiver for some reason.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just someone at the door,” he assures you, “Gimme one second.”

There’s some shuffling as he makes his way to the door, and your surprise at the thought of him carrying the phone with him across the room turns into a sinking feeling in your stomach as you hear the squeak of a door open and the muffled sounds of a woman’s voice. Your heart sinks as the memory of that day on his tour starts to play again in your mind, a cacophony of not again, I knew this would happen, I shouldn’t have trusted him filling your ears.

“-N? Y/N, you there?” You slowly blink back to reality as Elvis calls your name over the receiver, “Everything alright?”

“Y-yeah,” you reply hesitantly as he dives into an explanation about some crazy fan sneaking past security to his room. He pauses, picking up on the uncertainty in your voice.

“Y/N… you can talk to me, you know that, right? What’s wrong?” he says softly, and he sounds so genuine you want to cry.

“It’s… it’s silly…” you reply, embarrassed at the thought of telling him that that memory from all this years ago still haunts you.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d really like to know if I can help,” he replies patiently.

You sigh, and launch into an explanation of that night back in ‘55. “You just hung up on me, and the last thing I heard was some woman’s voice, and I didn’t realize how much that hurt me until I started worrying about who you were with whenever you were gone for a long time.” You explain softly, nervously fiddling with the phone cord.

“So just now, when you heard that girl at my door…” he sighs, realization dawning on him, “that brought all that back, didn’t it? I’m sorry, Y/N.” He says, and the sincerity of his words does bring tears to your eyes this time.

“I’m alright, I promise,” you reassure him, “surprised you turned her down,” you tease, wanting to move on.

“I don’t do that kinda thing anymore,” he laughs, picking up on your attempt to move to another topic, “besides, why would I stop to talk to some stranger who thinks they know everything about me when I could talk to you?”

Your heart flutters at the compliment, and you hope he can’t tell how much you’re blushing over the phone, “Aw, you’re sweet.”

There’s a moment of silence; not an awkward one, but comfortable, like the two of you don’t need to talk to enjoy each other’s company, even if it’s just on the phone. The moment is cut short, however, as Elvis speaks up again.

“I was thinkin’— and you’re free to say no, of course— well, Steve’s organizing this screening of the special before it airs. Right now it’s just Steve, Bones, Dad, Jerry, and me, but I’d like you to be there, too. Maybe get an opinion from someone who’s not family or paid to be nice to me.” He jokes.

“I’d love to,” you reply, “I’ll have to see if I can get off work, but if I can I’ll absolutely be there. And don’t worry, I’ll be brutally honest about the whole thing,” you add teasingly.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He laughs, “I’ll call once Steve has the day arranged and hopefully you can make it.”

The date Steve apparently figures out is November 19, two weeks before the special is actually set to air. Elvis relays to you that he’s arranged to do the screening at Graceland, and luckily you manage to convince your boss to give you both that day and the following day off for the long drive. Your parents are delighted to see you, of course, and you just barely miss the knowing smile on your mother’s face as you gush about how well your friendship with Elvis is going. Your father has warmed up to him the slightest bit, it seems, since your visit back in June, if the fact that he doesn’t scowl at every mention of Elvis’s name is any indication.

You take a deep breath as you pull up to Graceland. You force down the surfacing memories from the last time you were here, when Elvis officially put his career before you. Clean. Slate. you forcefully remind yourself as you step up to the front door.

The door swings open barely half a second after you ring the doorbell, and you find Elvis standing there, a nervous smile on his face.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a moment where the two of you simply stare at each other before he blinks, as if coming back to his senses, and steps aside to let you in. “Come on in, lemme introduce you to everybody,” he says, leading you to a room with not one, not two, but three TVs mounted into the wall, as one of his household staff comes to take your coat. 4 spaces on the immense couch taking up most of the space in the room are taken, one by his father and three others by people you don’t recognize. “This is Jerry, my manager,” Elvis says, gesturing to a man in a brown suit who looked to be in his late-20s with shaggy blondish hair, “and Steve and Bones, the masterminds behind this whole thing,” he introduces the two men sitting beside Jerry with a smile, one with neat brown hair and an ascot tied around his neck, the other with dark curly hair and round glasses. The three men give you various waves and smiles.

“And of course you know my dad,” Elvis finishes, gesturing to where he’s sitting next to Bones.

“Of course, hi Mr. Presley,” you say with a smile, coming over to shake his hand.

“Good to see you again, Y/N, how’ve ya been?” he asks as you take a seat next to him.

You’re hyperaware of Elvis sitting next to you as you make small talk with everyone, carefully leaning so that there’s a bit of distance between the two of you. As the screening begins, your attention is torn between the performance onscreen and real-life Elvis making jokes in your ear about “this is actually the take right after that goof I told you about—“ Your senses are full of him: the scent of his cologne, his arm brushing against yours, the feeling of his breath on your neck as he whispers to you, and it takes more and more of your energy to actually focus on the TVs in front of you.

About half an hour into the special, you excuse yourself and wander out to the hall, needing a break from the proximity. You don’t realize Elvis followed you out until his hand gently wraps around your wrist, making you jump.

“Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were alright” he explains, releasing you.

“I’m fine,” you assure him, “just… needed a break.”

“It was that bad?” he jokes, “Damn, I’ll have to let Steve know.”

You shake your head, “No, no, it’s not that, it’s…” You hesitate, unsure if you should say what the real reason is. Your friendship is going so well, you’re not sure how he’ll react if you admit that your feelings for him were back in full force, that in truth they never really left.

“What is it?” he asks, concern in his eyes.

You take a deep breath, deciding it’s now or never.

“I’m in love with you. I never really stopped being in love with you, if I’m being honest. But being with you these past few months, being your friend again… I’ve loved it. I’ve loved talking with you on the phone for hours about everything and nothing, seeing you talk with my parents like nothing’s changed, and I… I wanna try again. For real this time.” You bite your lip, nervously gauging his reaction.

“You— you mean that?” Elvis asks softly, eyes wide.

“Yes,” you reply, “I mean it.”

“Y/N, I’d… I’d love that. I promise,” he says sincerely, “I’ll do it right this time. I’ll be the man you deserve.” He steps closer, his lips now just a breath away from yours. “Can I—“ his eyes flick from looking into yours down to your lips, “I really wanna kiss you right now.” he breathes.

You nod your consent, and he swoops down to capture your lips with his, one hand cupping your cheek while the other grips your waist, pulling you close. Your arms wind around his neck up into his hair, mussing the carefully styled locks as you savor the feeling of his lips velvet-soft against yours. He walks you backward until you’re pressed against the wall, his lips never leaving yours as his body presses against you. Eventually the need for air gets the better of you, and he reluctantly pulls away, keeping his forehead and nose pressed to yours as if he can’t bear to be any farther away. His blue eyes lock with yours as you catch your breath.

“I missed you so much,” he breathes, lips brushing against yours, and the amount of love clear in those 5 little words brings tears to your eyes.

“I missed you, too,” you reply softly, a smile spreading across your face.

The two of you stay like that for a while, pressed against the wall of the hallway, before Elvis mumbles “As much as I’d love to just stay here with you forever, we should probably get back before they notice we’re gone.”

“Oh, right,” you laugh sheepishly as you remember the reason you were there in the first place.

The two of you slip back into the TV room, your absence seemingly having gone unnoticed, and assume the spaces you had occupied before you left, with one small difference: your hand is intertwined with his throughout the rest of the screening.

Taglist: @queenslandlover-93 @anangelwhodidntfall @austin-butlers-gf @butlersluvbot @killerqueenfan @kittenlittle24 @beauvibaby @kingelviscreole @justjacesstuff @sweetheartlizzie07 @coldonexx @londonalozzy @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @djconde58 @mirandastuckinthe80s @luke-my-skywalker @tubble-wubble @apparently-sunshine @kisseskae @whotfatemywaffles @gyomei-tiddies @friedwangsss @shynovelist @sassy-ahsoka-tano @she-is-juniper

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin butler fanfiction #elvis (2022) #elvis 2022 #elvis biopic #elvis baz luhrmann #my writing #ickkspty #i can’t keep kissing strangers pretending they’re you

[reddbuster]

The Hawthorne sisters make me so insane because they're so interesting and have so so much potential but the way they're written (Especially Dahlia) encourages the audience not to look below the surface.

(long ass ramble-y analysis below and cw for mentions of the shitbag that is Terry Fawles. btw)

Remember that the Hawthornes are also Feys. They spent their early childhood raised by Morgan, a notoriously horrible parent, in a society where they were essentially viewed as disappointments. To their own mother, they were nothing but a waste of space. Dead weight born to drag her own name through the mud. Not to mention the fact that they were identical twins. Morgan probably barely treated them like people, let alone as her daughters. And then, when Misty took her role as the Master of Kurain, she shipped them off to the same father that didn't hesitate to leave the family behind.

And then, unsurprisingly, he decided that he didn't need them either. Even having left behind everything they'd ever known, The Hawthorne twins could never escape the curse of being unwanted. And so he shipped one off to Hazakura, and, reluctantly, took the other into his home. Their entire childhoods were just comprised of being left behind, again and again and again, and then, finally, being ripped away from the only person who'd ever understood them. And then their paths diverge.

Iris is alone. She's left at a temple in the mountains with a stranger. After a childhood of the twins likely being treated as a single, undesirable unit, (And with Dahlia probably being the more outspoken and therefore more noticed sister) Iris probably wouldn't have much sense of who she is. And she's been brought back into the world of the Kurain channeling technique, where she already knows she is useless. All she knows about herself is that nobody wants her. But Bikini is different. Over the years, they become a sort of family. And Iris has her issues, of course, but at least she has a place where she's needed, wanted, loved.

And then there's Dahlia. She's left in much the same state as Iris, except she doesn't get that same experience of finally belonging. She grows up as the awkward stepdaughter that nobody really wants around. But at least, if she can finish growing up in this household without losing her mind, she'll finally have the freedom to build her own life.

She's just starting high school. She gets a tutor to help her with math. Everything is normal. And then it turns out her tutor, a adult man twice her size, is attracted to her. This grown ass man starts dating her, a traumatized and vulnerable 14 year old girl. Somehow, Dahlia gets a hold of poison (what the fuck were her parents doing!!!!!!) and finds a way out, a way to get rid of her abuser. But Valerie, a) Dahlia's older sister and b) a police officer, who has a responsibility twice over to protect this girl, encourages her to stay in this relationship so she can get a share of her father's money.

The plot is Dahlia's last chance to get out of this. The others see an opportunity for a profit, but for Dahlia it's so much more than that. She can use this to escape, from her family and from Fawles. If she can just wait out the plan, she can eventually start fresh, with money and a new identity, away from her past. And she asks her sister to help. Because, of course, Iris is just like her! Iris must be alone and desperate too, so surely she will understand. Meanwhile, Iris is scared. She loves her sister, but Iris has finally found a family. She belongs somewhere. And now her sister wants her to help commit a crime? What Dahlia wants could put everything Iris has gained in jeopardy. When she decides not to assist in the plan, Dahlia feels doubly betrayed. Not only is Iris not helping, but it seems like she's moved on from her sister. Iris has everything Dahlia wants. A safe home. A mother. A place in life. And Dahlia is alone, just like she's always been. At this point, she may not even have a sister.

Dahlia commits her first murder because she is abused, desperate and scared. And every subsequent crime is fueled by these same emotions. Dahlia is not a genius or an evil mastermind. She's a girl who is scared and angry and bitter and at this point she's too far gone to start over. She kills Valerie, the sister who used her. Fawles dies on the stand. She poisons the defense of her abuser. She is scared. She's left behind a trail of evidence. She's practically running away from her own shadow at this point. The only asset she thinks she has left is her looks. She probably doesn't think twice about using Doug Swallow, because what has life taught her so far but that any man who wants her cannot be trusted? Doug and Phoenix are collateral damage. She doesn't see humanity in them.

When she is convicted in Phoenix's trial, he has failed at what she sees as his only asset. To her he isn't a person who loved her, because the only man who's ever claimed to love her before is Terry Fawles, and look how that turned out. It's not like she was actually there to get to know him. In this long waiting game that is her life, he's just the piece that didn't stay put. She couldn't predict him, and that fact leads to her downfall. And maybe there's no point anyway. Maybe her whole life was a downfall of sorts. Maybe Dahlia knows she doesn't have a future. But she keeps going because what else is she going to do, this broken, miserable girl fueled only by hurt. In the end, all Dahlia Hawthorne's life amounts to is 2 dead men and a murdered sister. Those were all people from her past. But now, the ones who ruined her, Phoenix, Mia Fey, her own sister who she loved and who betrayed her, they're the ones who get to live what was supposed to be her future. And then she dies with that knowledge that her entire life was nothing more than a bump on the road on someone else's path to happiness. No wonder she was bitter. No wonder she wanted them dead. She's like the living embodiment of everything that's wrong with her family.

And then Iris has to live with that knowledge! And it's not like she did something wrong. Of course she didn't. She saved an innocent man from being murdered. But her choices hurt someone she loved anyway, because that's what it means to be a Fey.

Yeah so anyway I'm normal

#ace attorney #dahlia hawthorne #iris hawthorne #iris ace attorney #dahlia ace attorney #aa #morgan fey #mia fey #phoenix wright ace attorney #aa trilogy #trials and tribulations #fey girls tag #I didnt proofread this so it might be incomprehensible idk

[fruitsoxs]

the last anon holyshit <33333 maybe for Vash too?

of course!! he's such a loser I love him <3

pairings: vash x (gender neutral) reader

warnings: !nsfw minors dni! , masturbating , descriptions of moaning, all that fun stuff

notes: this took me forever lol. no beta again im praying there aren't any errors

It’s almost like a breath of fresh air slumping down onto the bed after a long day of wandering through the desert. Vash’s back hits the mattress and he lets out a soft sigh, closing his eyes. Originally he was planning on slinking down to the bar to let loose a little, but he found himself just too tired to drink with strangers.  He was expecting you to be in here when he wandered in, but the room seemed empty. The only hint that you hadn’t escaped to join the others is the running water Vash can hear from the bathroom. You must be taking a shower. He was hoping to catch some one on one time with you before he passes out for the night, but he can wait until morning. 

He starts peeling off his boots, followed by his jacket. He considers taking off his shirt. It’s not like you haven’t seen his scars before, but he’s just not sure. His fingers drift down to the bottom hem of the tight black shirt he wears, hesitating to pull it all the way off. He’s just about to find the courage when a noise from the bathroom pulls his attention away.

“F-Fuck-” Your voice echos through the room, causing Vash’s face to flush. 

At first he feels a bit panicked. Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? He’s by the door, about to open it and save you.However, a high pitched whine makes the worried man stop in his tracks. That didn’t sound like a pained whimper at all. No, that was…a sound that can only come from one thing.

Vash’s face turns completely red as the noises continue. Each louder than the last. He definitely should not be listening to this. You probably thought you were alone! Yet, his feet stay planted just outside the bathroom. His eyes shift to the door into the inn room. It would be so easy to just walk out, and pretend he never heard a thing.

The sweet noises you’re making are almost too much to bear though. His pants seem to be growing uncomfortably tight. Would it hurt to just stay for a little bit? After all, it’s unfair that you’re making such beautiful noises without an audience. He bites the inside of his cheek as his hand runs down to palm himself through his pants gently.

You let out a loud moan, and Vash finds himself pushing against his dick a little harder. The friction isn’t enough to satisfy him, but he’s scared to go any further. He wishes he could see what you’re doing to yourself. His brain is full of a sweet fog that makes his thoughts run wild. Are you standing up, or are you sitting down? The water must be running off your body so nicely. He’s always wondered what you looked like underneath your clothes. Probably perfect. 

You’re always so perfect.

His hand slips between the waistline of his pants, clutching desperately at himself. His breaths are coming out ragged, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration with his lips parted slightly. You call out to god in a way that has him humping his hand. He wants to be the one making you moan like that. He wants to taste you.

His cheeks are bright pink now. His metal arm is pressed against the bathroom door, holding the frame so tightly he’s sure there will be a handprint there. He doesn’t care though. He’s chasing the high that only you can bring him.

“Oh- Vash~”

His brain goes a bit fuzzy, and although his body screams at him to cum right there, he doesn’t. Did you just say his name? That can’t be right. He presses his ear against the door, his dick throbbing. “Vash please~” You say his name again. His eyes are wide, and his hand falls back around his cock. His body is now pressed against the door as you repeat his name over and over. It’s music to his ears.

He lets out a soft grunt and then…

The door opens.

He falls against the cool ground of the bathroom with a thump. He holds out his arms, but he barely has time to catch himself. He’s so glad he didn’t take his dick out now.  You let out a soft squeal  from inside the shower, and rip open the curtains. Vash turns his head just in time to make eye contact with you. Your eyes are still wide, and a little dilated. Your cheeks are so pink, and the water is running off your hair and onto your bare shoulders. His eyes drift down, until he realizes that he’s currently looking at you completely in the nude.

He lets out his own yelp, and covers his eyes. His face is completely red now.

“Va-Vash? I thought you were gonna go get a drink!” You exclaim, hiding yourself behind the curtain. He lets out a shy chuckle. “I uh- I changed my mind.” He explains, his eyes still covered. There’s an awkward silence before you finally ask. “Did you hear everything?” 

He doesn’t say anything for a second. His heart is beating so fast. 

“Uh yeah.” he finally mumbles, letting his hands drop so he can see you again. You look embarrassed. He doesn’t want that. “I…kind of enjoyed it?” Oh no he sounds like a creep! You smile though, and let the shower curtain fall away. “Well…maybe you want to…join me then?” you ask.

His eyes widen, but he’s up in an instant. He tears off his clothes without a second thought as you giggle and pull him in to join you. 

You probably won’t be needing that second bed anymore. 

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash smut #requests

[mywitchcultblr]

Something that irritated me

I saw this comment "Even if Gale wasn't a minor- she was his teacher, his goddess, she took advantage of the power she had over him,"

And this is a bit annoying, does Mystra treated Gale like crap? Yes, but to be honest, he also fucked around and find out with magical items that nearly destroyed the universe despite her explicitly said "DO NOT TOUCH!" and this sentiment that Mystra should know better about her relationship with Gale cannot be applied to her or any Gods. This is such a modern sentiment, relationship between humans in medieval era are often messed up by modern standard, let alone between a mortal and a God...

Mystra is a goddess and from her perspective she doesn't need to know any better because a god can do whatever they wanted so long it doesn't piss off AO. People are hamfisting modern HUMAN morality into a dungeon and dragon God, I don't deny that Mystra and Gale relationship is (I hate this word) problematic by modern lens, but this is a medieval dungeon and dragon world...

You can dislike what she did, but saying that she should know better is just an unrealistic expectation.

Also, Aylin and Isobel relationship. Why did Isobel has to say "Oh yeah there's an imbalance in our relationship, but we love each other."

This is such a meta dialogue that kinda doesn't make sense for the setting? (narrative and lore consistency and world building shouldn't be sacrificed just to placate modern audience)

I mean, why does Isobel even has to explain and justify herself to Tav/Durge who are essentially strangers?

I can feel this is Larian saying "Guys, we ship these two but see we address the imbalance, pleaseee don't cancel us on Twitter."

What? Are we going to demand Apollo to address the imbalance of his relationship with Hyacinth to appease modern sensibility as well?

#bg3 #bg3 meta #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #mystra #isobel thorm #dame aylin #gale dekarios #bg3 analysis #aylin x isobel

[chaotic-orphan]

Submit Willingly: a promise

Some caretaker Whump and past whumpee whump, and a grandiose whumper because I love them

*~*~*~*~*

“This was my promise to you, Whumpee,” Whumper bellowed from the town square. They stood on top of a makeshift stage that had not been there when Whumpee walked by it today, but now it had captured everyone’s attention.

Whumper had a way of doing that.

Whumpee joined the gathering crowd, hood up and head down but their eyes they kept trained on Whumper and the sadistic little smile they wore on their triumphant face.

Whumpee’s eyes went down, following Whumper’s sword to see… fuck. Whumper’s words rang through Whumpee’s ears. Their promise.

“I will take everyone who ever cared for you and make you watch as I murder them. Make examples of them. Every last one. Anyone who harboured you, who threw you a pitying glance: all dead. Then I will come for you, and you will submit willingly, and you will know there was never any point for all the bloodshed on your hands.”

Whumpee had been good. They had been solitary ever since they left Whumper. They didn’t let anyone help them, they knew Whumper’s threat was genuine. They didn’t want to risk people’s lives just so they could live.

So standing there in the crowd, watching Caretaker beaten and bloody under Whumper’s sword looking so defeated… it made bile rise in their throat.

Caretaker was the reason Whumpee could escape to begin with. Whumper’s right hand. Their best friend. They had taken pity on Whumpee and promised they would be safe. That Whumper didn’t know.

They promised they would be fine…

“I’ll give you to the count of, hmm… I don’t know— five? Caretaker, five sound good?”

“Go fuck yourself, Whumper.”

Whumper grinned, and kicked Caretaker in the face. Whumpee watched as Caretaker fell to the side, their arms tied uselessly behind their back.

Whumper continued, raising the sword as they counted: “four, three-“

“Okay fine,” Whumpee said and Whumper’s head snapped to the crowd, searching with a gleeful eagerness.

Whumper straightened, sheathing their sword and hopped off the raised platform. They smiled their creepy, happy smile that only promised pain and walked around the circle of the audience, trying to spot Whumpee.

“Mmm, I knew I’d find you here,” Whumper said conversationally. “You just wouldn’t be able to resist coming back. How well we know each other, don’t you think? It’s almost like destiny that we meet again here.”

“Let caretaker go.”

Whumper’s head whipped to the left, walking across the square to the area where Whumpee’s voice had come from. While Whumper was searching, Whumpee stepped out of the crowd beside Caretaker and started cutting at the ropes with their knife.

“Whumpee? Get out of here,” Caretaker grumbled as their hands came loose from the ropes.

“Not without you,” whumpee hissed, getting an arm under Caretaker’s. “Not again.”

A hand grabbed Whumpee’s hood, ripping it down and yanking them up to their feet by the hair, their knife clattering uselessly onto the stage and Whumpee cursed, struggling in the stranger’s grip.

Whumper turned, looking so smug. Dark brown eyes drinking in Whumpee’s struggles, who stopped when they remembered how much Whumper enjoyed it.

“I see you’ve met my new friend. I needed a replacement after you corrupted my old one against me.”

“Leave them out of this,” Whumpee demanded, voice hard. “It’s my fault I escaped, blame me. Take it out on me, but leave— just leave caretaker alone.”

Whumper laughed at Whumpee’s request. Whumpee threw an elbow back to the stranger holding them, but only served to have that arm restrained up and around their back, biting their cheek to hold back any sound escaping their lips.

Whumper stepped up to face Whumpee, dark eyes searching their face. Then their hand went to Whumpee’s hair, pulling a light brown curl from Whumpee’s short ponytail between their fingers. Their grin growing twice the size it was before.

“Oh, I never even considered how much fun long hair would be on you, and you look like you’ve lost weight. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Whumpee shouldn’t have looked. They know they shouldn’t have looked, but seeing Caretaker get to their feet and nearly collapse pulled at their soul and they took a step forward forgetting themselves, only to be yanked back by their hair. This time they let out a hiss of pain through gritted teeth and Whumper let out a happy sigh.

“How I missed you,” Whumper said softly. It made Whumpee’s stomach churn and chest tighten because it sounded genuine. Like… like whumper actually missed them, but Whumpee knew better. Whumper was a monster in human form.

“Don’t worry, Whumpee. This time… you won’t be alone. Caretaker will be right there with you. To make sure you obey and remember your place.”

“Whumper,” Whumpee said, stepping forward again only to be pulled back again. Whumper had turned to face Caretaker who was sitting on the edge of the stage, Whumpee’s knife clutched in both of their shaking hands. “Whumper! No! Leave them alone, Whumper please. Please, please don’t touch them! I’ll beg. I’ll get on my hands and knees, I’ll go willingly. No fighting, no escape plans— whumper! WHUMPER LOOK AT ME!”

Whumper didn’t turn. They still advanced on Caretaker who swiped blindly with the knife, muttering a weak: “fuck you,” as Whumper took Caretaker’s wrist in their hands and plucked the meagre knife from it.

“Whumper— whumper, please,” Whumpee begged as Whumper motioned for a guard to grab Caretaker. They took them, and seemingly satisfied, Whumper finally turned to Whumpee, a wicked grin splitting their face.

“I think I’ll take the two for one special,” said Whumper, coming to stand in front of Whumpee again. “But don’t worry. I’ll have you begging, pleading, sobbing, on your knees and docile: all that and more, as long as I have Caretaker, I have you. Submitting willingly.”

Whumpee felt all blood drain from their face as Whumper leaned in and whispered: “and this time, I’ll never let you go.”

#writblr #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #hero #villain #whumper #defiant whumpee #whump writing #whump drabble #whump scenario #whump prompt #whumpee #whump ideas #caretaker #recapture whump #is that even a tag #oh well it is now #writing prompt #writing #creepy whumper #caretaker whump #orphan #orphan writing #an orphaned whump

[conanshipsbyler]

mike/ party defense rant? ig?

i'm SO SICK of people holding mike (and the other kids in stranger things) to the same standards you would an adult. these are CHILDREN who are traumatized as fuck and you expect them to function like a normal kid, let alone adult?!?! like ofc m*leven is a toxic couple... they're teenagers in their first relationship (not to mention that mike is gay and el was locked away her whole childhood and doesn't understand how a healthy relationship works).

mike (and the others) are just CHILDREN! MIKE WAS 11 OR 12 WHEN HE JUMPED OFF A CLIFF TO SAVE DUSTIN'S TEETH (dustin's life wasn't even in danger, one of the many hints toward mike's suicidal tendencies but that's not what were here to talk about) !!! stop acting like they should be mature adults who know exactly what they're doing with their lives. especially when it comes to m*leven. neither of them know what they're doing. that's what first relationships are for. is to figure it out. and they're gonna figure out they're not good together and that el needs to find herself before she gets into a serious relationship and mike is gay (or at least not in love with el).

this is also a big thing with will. y'all act like he's immature in season three for wanting to play dnd when 1. it's not a children's game so it's not immature, 2. he lost his childhood. it's gone. whatever was left of it from his father, vecna took from him. and he just wanted to have a bit of it back and mike and lucas were distracted by their girlfriends (which is okay to a certain level bc they're just kids too and that's a typical thing for teenagers to do i'm not blaming them). and the general audience just decided that will is a crybaby and dramatic for wanting his childhood back?!?! nawww. if you were in his shoes, or mike's shoes, or any of their shoes, you would be saying something different.

anyway this was partially a mike defense rant, and partially a defense rant for all the kids (the older ones too but i won't get into all THAT here) because they are just children who are struggling with trauma and they're flawed and that makes them good characters. thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#mike wheeler #will byers #el hopper byers #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #the party #byler #stranger things #anti mileven #ollister’s rambles #<3

[ellaelsinore]

Corroded Coffin gets asked to be the house band for the local Hedwig production, clearly the only musicians skilled enough for a rock opera. Eddie didn’t think the show would be fun, but the music clearly rocks, the show is entertaining, it pays and it gives him more opportunities to perform. Costume even lets him wear mostly his own clothes, embellishing his battle vest further, not budging on the obscene amount of eyeliner they insist is “necessary to the plot”. Both Eddie and Steve kinda love it, even when Eddie looks like a raccoon the next morning. It takes all of his time for months, but by the end the boys are pretty proud of what they’ve accomplished and have learned a lot from the director and production staff about putting on a real show.

Steve comes to multiple shows, in the audience and backstage. He prefers being backstage, watching from the wings. He alternates between stage right and stage left, either able to watch Eddie from afar as he plays and dances and sings harmony, or right next to him so he can tell him how pretty he looks every break for the whole show. Eddie basks in the attention he gets from the community, the snobby theater crowd impressed by the skill of four heathens with guitars and a drum kit. The actor playing Hedwig tells them that they’re by far the most talented pit band he has worked with and will keep them in mind the next time he does a rock musical.

Eddie plays Wicked Little Town (reprise) every night like it’s the last time he’s going to play it. He studied the music for weeks, pouring over that particular song, first, because it’s the climax of the musical and second, it reminds him of Steve. Steve who is so much more than the stuck-up, pretty-boy jock he saw in high school. Steve who kept the party and himself alive and safe in the Upside Down, who picked up the pieces of a life that broke around him and built a new family with them. Who changed so completely that anyone from his old life would never recognize the man he had become, who sometimes didn’t recognize himself. Eddie wanted to be the voice Steve could follow, to rebuild this new life together.

Next Corroded Coffin show, Eddie plays a viciously emotional rendition of Wicked Little Town (Reprise), shirtless, black jeans low on his hips, jewelry shining in the stage lights. Robin and Nance made sure that Steve was front and center, Eddie dedicates the song to “his cosmic lover,” and plays to Steve like he’s the only one in the bar. Steve cries into Robin’s shoulder until Eddie slings his guitar over his back and hops off the stage, taking Steve’s face in his hands, kissing away the tears on his cheeks.

“You make this wicked little town worth every minute, Stevie.” Eddie kisses his forehead. “And you will never be alone again, never be a stranger, not if I can help it.” He pulls the ring box out of his pocket, not caring that they’re still in the middle of the Hideout and some asshole (Gareth) got them to adjust the spotlight to where the two men are standing in the pit. Not caring that the whole club has pulled back and is watching two men in desperate love, sharing in a moment that they should be grateful to see.

Steve laughs wetly as Eddie presents the ring, a woven silver band set with three sunshine-yellow stones, nodding before Eddie can even ask the question. “Steve Harrington, will you..” Steve crushes Eddie into a hug, whispering “yes” against his neck over and over. “You didn’t let me finish, Stevie,” Eddie laughs. Steve pulls back to look at his boyfriend, fuck, fiancé, and sees Eddie’s doe eyes misty and rimmed with red, but he’s smiling at Steve and god, Steve could look at him for the rest of his life. “Steve,” Eddie takes a deep breath, takes Steve’s hands in his. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, a million times yes.” Steve lets Eddie put the ring on him, before finally kissing Eddie. However wicked this town was, Eddie was his home, and together they would pick up the pieces and make a beautiful life for themselves.

#steddie #steddie fluff #eddie munson #steve harrington #this is the first thing I've finished in literal years #i love these idiots so much

[blueshistorysims]

Early October 1923, London, England

After the Countess of Lyton’s visit, the shop had grown enormously in popularity to the point she’d been able to hire others to deal with the influx of orders. Her name had seemingly grown overnight, and it was as if everyone knew who she was.  It equally thrilled and terrified her, especially tonight. Tonight was her first fashion show. The place was crowded, filled with strangers, friends, and acquaintances. She watched intensely at the crowd, praying there wouldn’t be a frown or gross remark. A part of her wished it was possible to read everyone’s thoughts to see what they thought of her clothes. She looked around the audience, and to her disappointment, she did not see her mother.

When the hall was completely empty, her brother approached her and Francesca with a tall red-haired man who looked strangely familiar, though she couldn’t place why. He grinned big and laughed. 

“I’m very proud of you, Giselle. You sold most of your dresses tonight.”

The ginger nodded. “Aye, ya’ve grown far since the little fifteen-year-old girl when I first met ya.”

Giselle’s eyes widened. “Montgomery? My lord, it’s wonderful to see you.” She turned back to Byron. “When did you two get reacquainted?”

“Turns out we are mutual friends with the Porters. Jack and Montgomery were flatmates for a time.”

Francesca shook her head. “It seems that the Porters know everyone. …Wait, you said you were bringing a date for dinner.”

He shrugged. “I can bring friends for dinner.”

Giselle glanced at the two men. They had been friends before, but as far she knew, not that good of friends. 

Byron coughed and looked around. “I’m surprised I didn’t see Mama. I’m shocked that she would miss this.”

“I don’t know. Honestly, she’s only written to me thrice and called once since last Christmas.”

“That does not sound like her.”

Francesca looked down. “Let’s speak about it at dinner.”

“Sorry, this is blunt, but yer lovers?” Montgomery asked after dinner.

Giselle turned to her brother, flabbergasted. “Why would you say something?”

“I said nothing!”

Montgomery’s eyes narrowed. “I got eyes, Giselle.”

Francesca covered her mouth to muffle her laugh. “And what would you know about that, MacGregor?”

Giselle watched as Byron and Montgomery briefly glanced at each other, and a realization hit her. “You two are fucking? What the hell, Byron?”

Byron raised his hands. “It started when we ran into each other at the Porters’ four months ago. Don’t think that we don’t know that it’s odd.”

Francesca frowned. “Thank god your mother doesn’t know about you.”

He frowned. “That’s why she’s not here, is she? She knows about you two.”

Giselle paled, watching her lover nod. 

“She cornered me during Christmas while I was washing dishes. Asked how long we had been lovers.”

“...How’d she take it?” Her brother asked quietly.

“She said she’d tolerate it… as long as she never saw evidence of it. I think her reaction would have been worse if we were both men.”

Montgomery turned to Byron. “Christ.”

“My own mother,” Giselle whimpered once they were alone in their bedroom. “I thought we were secretive. I thought we were discrete.”

“Not discrete enough,” Francesca muttered, holding her lover in her arms. “If she wants to be in your life less, then that’s on her. We’ve done nothing wrong. It shouldn’t be a crime to love.”

“But it is.”

“Write to her, invite for Christmas. She asked me not to tell you that she was aware of our relationship. It would be better to pretend for now.”

“Is that all we can do?”

“I suppose.”

“I love you.”

Francesca smiled and stepped away before pushing Giselle onto the bed. “But we have more important things to do, such as celebrating your success tonight.”

She couldn’t help but laugh as they began to kiss. 

#the walshes #the walsh legacy #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 decades #sims 4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #sims 4 history challenge #ts4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 1920s #1920s #tw homophobia #homophobic rebecca 😔 #rebecca walsh #giselle walsh #francesca pace #byron walsh #montgomery macgregor

[firephoenix2305]

So, an idea for a Good Omens Human AU hit me and, in true me fashion, it just refuses to leave my brain.

SO

If I were to write a silly, fluffy, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers human AU where Serpent a.k.a Crowley is a rock/pop singer (I was thinking like a cover artist, because I can't go writing thousands of original songs for this guy, that would require too many of my braincells. Though there would be an explanation as to why Crowley doesn't sing original stuff, eventually) and Aziraphale is a much less-known, very shy and private, but jaw-droppingly talented opera singer, known as the "Angel of Eden" given his tendency to perform in said theater; and in which they meet because Aziraphale is dragged to one of Serpent's concerts by his best friend Anathema....

...would...would anybody object to that?...

And of course Crowley has anxiety and self-esteem and such problems behind his demonic, cool-and-aloof on-stage persona, 'cause that's my signature. (I'm not quite sure why, nervous breakdowns and the like just always end up happening in my stories. Should I be worried...?)

But anyway! I'm trailing off!

Would...um...would I...have the fandom's blessing? Or at least one bored soul who'd read it just to pass the time?

...

Have I actually already written a whole chunk of what would be the first chapter? Possibly.

Will I share a little so you can see my vision? Sure!

[For context, this takes place in the midst of Serpent's concert, which Aziraphale is attending with Anathema]

- Right! - he sighed into the microphone - I like rock as much as the next guy, but if I keep shouting like a fucking maniac I'll finish snapping my bitchy little vocal cords in half! - laughter echoed through the crowd, making Serpent smile - So, let's try not to do that and sing something slower, yeah? -

To Aziraphale's surprise, the man circled around the piano and sat down on the stool, placing his hands elegantly on the keys. He played a couple of loose notes and addressed his audience again.

- What should we go for? Hm?- he said softly into the microphone before letting out a quiet chuckle as the crowd erupted in applause - Oh, shut the fuck up! I know exactly what you want, you bastards! - he playfully snapped at them.

Then, his slim fingers began moving on the keys as if they had always been meant to be there, leaving Aziraphale near breathless. After a few notes, he began to sing, and the audience exploded.

You know the distance never made a difference to me.

I swam a lake of fire, I'd have walked across the floor of any sea.

Ignored the vastness between all that can be seen,

And all that we believe,

So I thought you were like an angel to me.

His voice felt like silk against Aziraphale's ears, his mouth agape. With all the drumming and the electric guitars, he hadn't really had the chance to listen to Serpent's voice. And now that he could, he was completely entranced. His eyes were glued to the red-haired man, whose eyes were, in turn, closed in concentration beneath the yellow lenses of his glasses.

Funny how true colours shine in darkness and in secrecy.

If there were scarlet flags, they washed out in the mind of me.

Where a blindin' light shone on you every night.

And either side of my sleep,

Where you were held frozen like an angel to me.

It ain't the being alone. Sha-la-la

It ain't the empty home, baby. Sha-la-la.

You know I'm good on my own.Sha-la-la

Sha-la-la, baby, you know, it's more the being unknown.

So much of the livin', love,

is the being unknown.

So, eh, yeah...thoughts?

#good omens #writing #writers on tumblr #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens human au #fic idea #just throwing it out there #tell me what you think #Today in “Ideas which simply won't leave phoenix's head so she has to write them before going insane” #phoenixwrites #original idea #i hope #I haven't found any fics like this on Ao3 but maybe I'm wrong

[tbposting]

today's adventures in receiving emails from ostensibly professional companies that wish to work with me

And my response:

Of course, this wasn't actually a serious inquiry. It was a YouTube channel network rep out fishing for clients to parasitise. They are generally companies that offer essentially no value while garnishing their clients' revenue and locking their victims into obscenely lopsided and abusive contracts.

But some days you just don't have the fucking mental energy to let shit slide off you. "Please unsubscribe and I won't email you again" how about you leave me the fuck alone as a baseline, actually, how about that? If all you're going to send me is insultingly shoddy spam garbage, how about you fuck off and I don't have to click random hyperlinks in emails from strangers? Eat dirt and choke on an ant.

IMAGE TEXT:

1 - an email reading the following:

Hi,

I hope this message finds you well. My name is (redacted) and I am a representative of Ritual. I recently came across your channel and was impressed by the quality of your content, particularly your video Frankenstein's tragic monster || Pride 2022.

I wanted to reach out to you to explore the possibility of collaborating together. We have several opportunities available that I think could be a great fit for your channel. Would you be interested in scheduling a call to discuss this further?

Best, (redacted)

2 - a follow-up email reading the following:

Hey,

Just a quick follow-up to my previous email. If this isn't something that interests you, please unsubscribe and I won't email you again.

I've been researching your channel and saw that you are not uploading on TikTok, is this something you have considered? TikTok is a great way to expand your existing audience. Our agency manages creators who have gained millions of fans on TikTok in a short period of time, and this then allows them to get this active audience watching their YouTube videos and consuming content on platforms away from TikTok. We're also able to help creators monetize on TikTok and it's a great revenue stream.

We are an agency that specializes in YouTube and have been working with some of the biggest creators on the platform for several years. However, we also understand the importance of being present on other platforms such as TikTok, Instagram, and Facebook. Our goal is to help you grow your brand and revenue on all platforms.

I would like to discuss with you how we can help you to expand your reach on TikTok, but also with a key focus on YouTube as the main point of our strategy. Are you available for a call or an email discussion? Best, (redacted)

3 - my response email, reading the following:

Hello (redacted)

I do, in fact, upload on TikTok. I have 140k followers, it's a terrible revenue stream, and I upload under exactly the same handle as on YouTube, so whatever research you purported to do was rather poorly done.

Also, it's broadly speaking not in great taste to cite someone's deeply personal Pride essay as "impressive content," because you immediately give off the impression that you are willing to casually monetize someone's queer identity as a branding exercise. It's an unpleasant vibe, it is not the kind of professional company I would want to keep.

It is also possibly the least representative example of my work you could possibly have picked to cite, although I suspect that's because you just copy-pasted a video title into the email. This is your job, I'm sure you write hundreds of these as form letters, and I am sure it is tedious and time consuming, nobody likes doing busywork or cold-calling strangers.

Please do not reach out to me again, I have no need or use for the services your company offers.

- TBSkyen

#tbposting #ignore me i am just complaining about my job