#but this was actually a nice moment between them

[vanesycho]

Watched Jaemin and Mark live the other day and they played Jealous Tendencys 😲 Jaemin was so hot 🤭 can you please write a fic where fwb Jaemin is jealous of yn and Mark (when Mark tries to get to know yn)🫣 thank you in advance luv!!

warning:smut, p in v

a/n:pls...I really surrendered my soul when I watched the live, JAEMIN WAS SO F HOT, anyway, thank you for your request I hope you like it🤍🤍

wc:1,9k

"It's really nice to meet you Y/n. Why hasn't Jaemin ever mentioned you?" You laughed when Jaemin rolled his eyes at Mark's question. He regretted accidentally mentioning you to him a few days ago. Sure, you agreed that nothing romantic would happen between you two, but was Jaemin going to watch you flirt with him after he fucked you half an hour before Mark got home?

You came onto his cock with a loud moan as Jaemin pounded your pussy once more. He tiredly laid down next to you and kissed your forehead. "Are you okay?" You turned to him, trying to catch your breath. "God...You were harder than usual." He laughed at your words and sat up straight and smoothed his hair that was sticking to his forehead. "Mark will be here in a few hours." You sat up as well. "Yeah? We still have time for the shower."

Jaemin turned his head to you, staring at your face for a moment. "Are you really okay with meeting him?" You laughed, frowning in disbelief. “I mean...Of course? I’ve only been having sex with you for a long time, it might be good to try someone new. Mark... I’m already curious about what kind of person he is.” he watched your excitement, jaw clenched, and grabbed your wrist, quickly leading you to the bathroom. “Don’t get your hopes up.” you entered the bathroom, Jaemin spoke again as he adjusted the water. “Before you flirt with him, remember who fucked you a few hours ago.”

Even though what you had just experienced with Jaemin didn’t leave your mind, there was something else that didn’t leave your mind, and that was why he was so angry about this situation. You had already set your rules for this fwb relationship, but it seemed like someone was completely disregarding them. Whenever you tried to bring someone else into your life, it only ended in failure because of Jaemin, and it seemed like this would happen too.

You turned your attention away from him and looked at Mark with a smile, and when you were about to answer his question, Jaemin quickly intervened. “I didn’t mention it because I don’t have to tell you everything.” Noticing his anger, Mark laughed nervously. “Dude, calm down. It’s just that Y/n is really beautiful, I can’t believe you hid her from me.” Mark leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, examining you, a smile appearing on your face when you saw him looking at you up and down, you didn’t take your eyes off him. "I think it’s good that we met, I’d like to get to know you better.”

Jaemin laughed hysterically, licking his dry lips and brushing his hair back with a deep breath. His angry expression amused you even more, you really liked pushing his boundaries and Jaemin knew it all too well. “Yeah, Y/n is beautiful but don’t you think you’re overdoing it? Take it slow dude this is your first time seeing each other.” Mark tore his eyes away from you and looked at Jaemin, you looked at him the same way, what he said sounded funny because when you first saw each other all you did was spend a lot of time naked in bed and now he was trying to protect you.

Mark frowned and glanced at the two of you, slowly pointing his index finger at the two of you "Dude wait- are you two..." You looked at Jaemin, and when you saw the slight smirk on his face you immediately jumped in "Friends? Yes we are, it hasn't been that long actually so it's normal that you don't know me." You turned back to him, when you saw the smirk on his face turn into irritation you let out a small chuckle. Mark took the opportunity to quickly reply "Oh that's great, so can we get some alone time one day?" You looked at the phone he held out to you, you reached for it but another hand snatched it away as you were about to grab it, both of you looked at Jaemin with a questioning look, Jaemin handed the phone back to Mark "Do you really need the number? Just come to my house when you want to see her, because I'm sure she'll be here."

Mark took the phone without a word and looked at you again, you bit your lower lip to keep from laughing and cleared your throat "Alright then. I better go." Mark stood up and you heard a calming sigh from Jaemin, Mark turned to you one last time before walking out the door. "I'll see you later?" You gave him a smile, leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "I'll see you later." Mark swallowed hard, holding his breath for a moment as your voice echoed in his ears, Jaemin's throat clearing interrupted you. Mark returned to reality and soon left the house. Jaemin was looking at you with his arms crossed, you tried to walk past him but were forced to stand still when his hand grabbed your wrist harder than it should have been, you looked at him. "Yeah?" He leaned closer to your face, his voice wasn't loud but you didn't need it to tell that he was definitely angry. "What's with all this attitude? Are you going to flirt with every guy you meet like that?" The relaxed attitude you displayed in response to his anger made him even angrier, you grinned and pulled your arm. "Do I need to reiterate the rules we talked about? Because you don't seem to follow any of them."

He just studied you with a serious expression on his face, "Fuck the rules, it's funny how you think anyone else can get close to you when I'm around, Y/n." You tilted your head slightly to the side. "This is the purpose of our relationship, Jaemin. Just sex and no feelings. I thought we agreed on that." He grabbed your arms and pulled you towards him, you had to lift your head slightly to look at him because of the closeness. "We may not have feelings between us, but that still doesn't mean I'll let anyone else touch you." You lowered your eyes to his lips, a slight smirk appearing on your face. "Oh, is that jealousy I feel?"

The satisfied expression on your face made him swallow. "You know damn well. And you like it, don't you?" He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the wall, a small pained groan coming out of your mouth. "Fuck-" Jaemin didn't wait long before he moved to your neck, you shivered when he breathed into your neck. “If you like driving me crazy, then go ahead. But know that all this effort is for nothing because I will never let anyone else know about this body that I know every single detail of, you understand?” He sucked on your earlobe and started kissing you from behind your ear, moving his kisses down, bringing his knee between your legs and pressing it against your pussy over your dress, you let out a breath.

He slowly moved his hand down your body, the kisses started to wet your neck, he reached his hand inside your dress and caressed your clit “J-jaem..” your body started to burn, every place he kissed left a mark of fire. Jaemin had no intention of stopping, he had no intention of sharing you with anyone else and you had to learn that, one way or another. “Being alone with Mark, hm? Maybe if I leave marks all over your body he’ll figure out who you belong to, what do you think?” You moaned slightly in pain when he bit your neck hard, your voice reaching his ears and he couldn’t suppress the urge to do more.

Soon your panties were on the floor and you were in Jaemin’s lap, you were tired of moving, Jaemin smirked as he listened to your whimpering and examined you. “Are you tired? That soon?” He grabbed your hips and squeezed them lightly. “You want me to help?” You nodded quickly, the fact that you were so needy stirred something inside him. One hand went to your nipple and he stroked your erect nipple with his thumb. “Then stay with me. Just tell me that you’ll be mine and I’ll give you what you want. Will you be alone with Mark, baby?” His big veiny cock inside you was driving you crazy, the pain and sensitivity of not being able to move inside you was making your eyes fill with tears, you muttered a curse. “Fuck- n-no I won’t, only you will fuck me.. only me- fuck Jaemin please..”

The look in his eyes changed instantly, his mocking look turning into a hunger for you and it didn’t take long for you to find yourself lying on your back. He lifted one of your leg up and wrapped it around his waist, and without waiting, he started to enter your pussy with a certain tempo, the pleasure you were finally getting made you moan, Jaemin leaned in and sucked on your lower lip "That's right baby, I'll be the only one fucking this beautiful pussy of yours. What a shame that fucking Mark won't be able to enjoy it." You laughed when you saw him smirk at the last sentence "You're crazy." He smiled in the same way "For this beautiful pussy? Damn I am." Your juices mixed with his, your breathing sounds bounced between the four walls, Jaemin moaned deeply and his movements became rougher. His cock hitting your pleasure point made you let out a loud moan, without you even having to speak, he knew he had found the right spot from the tightening of your pussy "Yeah? You like it? Good, every time you think about going to someone else, make sure that other dicks won't feel like this and think again." his cock that was constantly hitting your pleasure spot was making you moan and whine with each hit, after a few movements your stomach tightened, "I'm close.. Please.." Jaemin spread your legs and watched with his own eyes how he was destroying your pussy, he let out a deep groan at the sight, "Fuck." He cursed between his breaths.

He listened to all of your pleas from time to time with pleasure, you were only his and you would continue to be his, there was no other way. He should be the only one who had this beautiful body and you, the only one who could hear this beautiful voice, only he should know how your pussy felt, the beauty of your touches. "Are you going to cum? Hm? You were flirting with my best friend earlier and now you're going to do this? Fuck- I should have let Mark stay and watch this." he laughed hysterically, laughing at the fact that you were too busy moaning to respond, he slid his hand from your cheek and grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. "Don't even try to take your eyes off of me, do you hear me?" You nodded, he continued his movements without breaking eye contact, watched how you moaned with your mouth slightly open.

He hit your pleasure spot hard a few more times and finally felt the semen flowing from your pussy slide off his cock, then he pulled his cock out of you and pulled it a few times with his hand and cummed between your legs with a deep moan. He put his hand next to you to support himself, leaned over and kissed your lips, you looked at him, Jaemin reached his other hand up to your face and started caressing your cheek. "Let's end this stupid complicated relationship, just be mine."

[shybluebirdninja]

The Great Outdoors

Summary: Logan takes you on a camping trip, but his survival skills are hilariously outdated. Between using a rock instead of a proper camping tool and attempting to start a fire with his claws (which ends up in a mini bonfire), you can’t stop laughing. Eventually, you both end up cuddled in the tent, sharing ghost stories that lead to goofy scares and unexpected confessions of affection.

Pairing             : Wolverine!Logan Howlett x Female!Human-reader

Genre          ��   : Fluff

The sun was already dipping low behind the trees when Logan parked the truck. He got out like he was about to conquer the wild, while you stood there, looking at the woods and trying not to laugh at the seriousness on his face. Logan wasn’t the camping type—or at least, not the “modern” kind. He was more like the “rough it with nothing but your fists and claws” type.

This was going to be interesting.

“So, what’s the plan, Bear Grylls?” you teased, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

Logan grunted, pulling out a rolled-up tent from the back of the truck. “Survive. That’s the plan.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, so detailed. I feel so prepared.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve done this a hundred times. Just follow my lead, and we’ll be fine.”

Oh, boy.

You made your way into the clearing Logan had apparently scoped out beforehand. It wasn’t bad, actually—nice little spot near a river, surrounded by trees that rustled softly in the evening breeze. As soon as you set your stuff down, Logan got to work... sort of.

He started with the tent. You watched him as he unfolded it, frowning like the damn thing had personally offended him. “These damn things get more complicated every year,” he muttered, trying to shove a pole into one of the sleeves.

“Need some help?” you asked, biting your lip to keep from laughing as he wrestled with it.

“Nah, I got it,” he grumbled, jamming the pole so hard it almost snapped.

Five minutes later, the tent was half-collapsed, one corner flapping in the wind, and Logan was cursing under his breath.

“I think it’s supposed to stand up, Logan.”

He shot you a look, then glanced back at the tent. “It’s fine. I’m just, uh... testing its durability.”

You let out a snort, shaking your head. “Right. Maybe you should just let me handle that.”

“I’m a grown-ass man,” he muttered, glaring at the tent like it had insulted his mother.

“Yeah, and you’re losing a fight to a piece of nylon.”

After another moment of watching him struggle, you stepped in and started putting the thing together while Logan, not exactly one for sitting still, decided to gather firewood. He disappeared into the woods with nothing but his claws, because why bring a hatchet when you’re Logan?

By the time he came back, arms full of sticks and logs, the tent was up and looking perfect. You leaned against it, smirking as he dropped the wood into a pile.

“See?” you said, gesturing to the tent. “That’s how it’s done.”

Logan grunted, clearly not impressed. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s see you start a fire.”

You crossed your arms. “Watch and learn, old man.”

He grinned, that dangerous little glint in his eye. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Logan, being Logan, didn’t just gather some twigs and light them with a match like a normal person. No, that would’ve been too easy. Instead, he pulled out his claws and crouched next to the fire pit, sparks flying as he struck them against a rock.

“Logan, that’s not how—”

Whoosh!

The pile of wood lit up like someone had dumped gasoline on it. Flames shot up higher than you thought possible, and you stumbled back, laughing your ass off while Logan jumped up, cursing.

“Goddammit!” He swiped his claws through the air, trying to beat the flames down. “I meant to do that.”

“Oh, sure,” you choked out between laughs, wiping at your eyes. “That’s the perfect height for roasting marshmallows, right?”

Logan glared at the mini-bonfire for a second, then at you. “Next time, you can light the damn thing.”

You couldn’t stop laughing, the sound of it bouncing around the trees. Logan finally cracked a smile, though he tried to hide it behind a gruff mutter.

After some careful maneuvering (read: Logan finally letting you fix the fire), you both settled down for the evening. The fire was low, crackling softly, the night air cool around you. Stars were starting to peek through the darkening sky, and the only sounds were the soft hum of the forest and Logan chewing on beef jerky.

You leaned back against a log, holding your hands out to the fire. “So, what now? Gonna show me your impressive ghost story collection?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, gnawing on his jerky like a wild animal. “Ghost stories? What are we, twelve?”

“Come on,” you teased. “Everyone knows camping isn’t complete without ghost stories. It’s like... the law.”

He scoffed but leaned back, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “Alright. You want a ghost story? I’ll give you one.”

“Oh, this oughta be good.”

Logan cleared his throat dramatically. “So... once upon a time... there was this girl. Thought she was real tough. Real smart.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is this about me?”

“Shhh, I’m tellin’ a story here,” Logan said, smirking. “Anyway, she thought she could survive out in the wild with just a little ol’ tent and her wit. But one night, she heard a rustling in the trees... something... watching her.”

You leaned in, playing along, even though you knew exactly where this was going. “Oh, yeah? What was it?”

Logan’s eyes widened theatrically. “A bear! Big, ugly thing. Twice her size. It came into her camp, sniffin’ around, and you know what she did?”

You shook your head, grinning. “What?”

“Nothing. She just froze. The bear ate all her snacks, tore up her tent, and left her sittin’ there in her own piss.”

You burst out laughing. “Wow, Logan. Truly terrifying. 10/10. I’m gonna have nightmares for weeks.”

Logan grinned, leaning closer. “I got more. You’ll be beggin’ for mercy by the end of the night.”

You pushed his shoulder lightly. “You’re such an ass.”

As the night deepened and the fire began to die down, you both retreated into the tent. It was surprisingly cozy inside, the faint warmth of the fire lingering outside while you snuggled into your sleeping bag. Logan stretched out beside you, his body taking up way too much space, but you didn’t mind.

“Comfy?” you asked, glancing at him as he wiggled around.

“Like a fuckin’ sardine,” he muttered, trying to adjust in the small space. “Who the hell makes these tents so damn small?”

“They’re meant for normal-sized people, not... whatever the hell you are,” you said with a smirk.

Logan snorted. “Mutant privilege. I need bigger accommodations.”

You both lay there for a few minutes, the quiet settling in around you. Logan’s breathing was steady, his body warm next to yours, and despite his earlier grumblings, you could tell he was content. This whole camping thing wasn’t so bad, after all.

“Alright,” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “I’ve got a ghost story.”

Logan raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, so you went on.

“There’s this guy, right? Big, tough, hairy—like, really hairy. The kinda guy you wouldn’t wanna meet in a dark alley.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but you kept going.

“And one night, he decides to go camping with this totally amazing girl—smart, funny, great taste in camping snacks—”

“Wow, I wonder who this is about,” Logan deadpanned.

“Shhh,” you said, stifling a laugh. “But the thing is... the guy? He’s got a secret. See, he acts all tough, like nothing scares him, but deep down? He’s terrified of one thing.”

Logan looked over at you, eyes narrowing. “What?”

You grinned, leaning in close. “Commitment.”

Logan blinked, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re full of shit, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you said, smiling. “But you know I’m right.”

He didn’t deny it, just stretched out a hand to pull you closer, his arm wrapping around you with an ease that made your heart flutter a little too fast.

“I’m scared of plenty of things,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “Just not the same kinda things as you.”

“Like what?” you asked, curious now.

Logan looked at you, his eyes serious for once. “Losing people. People I care about. That’s what scares me.”

The confession was quiet, unexpected, and it hit harder than you’d thought. You swallowed, unsure of what to say, but Logan just shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, pulling you in tighter.

“Guess that makes you a real badass,” you whispered after a moment, your voice barely breaking the stillness of the tent.

“Damn right,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now shut up and go to sleep before I start tellin’ real scary stories.”

You smiled against his chest, warmth spreading through you as the sound of the river and the soft crackling of the dying fire lulled you to sleep. And maybe, just maybe, you’d both survived the great outdoors after all.

[macabr3-barbi3]

a request, a need, a plea even:

shotgun kiss with human!alastor

ANON I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX SINCE MAY 😭 I PROMISE I NEVER FORGOT ABOUT YOU AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY

The air is cold when you step outside the diner, fingers trembling and goosebumps erupting along your arms. You had claimed it was for a smoke break, but really you just needed to get out of the building for a moment- the loud, boisterous group that had taken up residence at one of your tables had been grating on your nerves all night, and you knew they weren’t going to tip well, so you just needed a break. You had forgotten your cigarettes at home, and your fingers itch to actually hold one between them, but you would take whatever reprieve you could get. 

Gravel crunches nearby, and you turn to see a man step into the alleyway behind the diner with you. Tall, lean muscles and a mop of dark, curly hair, you greet Alastor with a smile as you always did. He gives you a wave, soft and timid as he approaches, like you haven’t had weeks of time to get to know one another on your smoke breaks during work; you from the diner, him from the broadcast station across the alley.

You make polite conversation for the better part of your break, talking about his most recent shows and the reporting that he had been doing on the serial killer in New Orleans a couple towns over. As always, the air is amicable and comfortable between the two of you while he smokes down towards the butt of his cigarette. It was always nice to spend time with him- he was polite, charming, and handsome as the Devil himself. Who could blame a gal for falling a little bit in love?

Your coworker steps out and lets you know that your table had skipped out without paying, shooting a wink your way when she notices Alastor with you, and the need for a nicotine hit increases tenfold; you’re ashamed to admit to fluttering your lashes coyly at him. “Alastor, you mind if I bum one of those off you?” You ask him demurely, gesturing to the cigarette he holds as he brings it to his lips and to the light.

“Ah, haven’t you learned to keep your own on hand after all this time? I’m afraid this is my last one, my dear,” he says, and your heart sinks while you watch him blow rings into the cool air of the night. “Don’t look so put out,” he chuckles, stepping closer and wrapping a hand around your waist- the shock of it prevents you from putting up any real fight against it, relishing in the warmth that greets you when he pulls you into his chest. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t share.” He takes another strong suck of the cigarette and leans down into your personal space, hand coming up from your waist to coax your lips open with his thumb before he slides it into your hair.

He cranes his neck to meet at your height, lips just barely brushing yours before he’s exhaling smoke into your mouth; you inhale greedily, the sweet buzz of the nicotine mixing with something spicy and dark, so unmistakably Alastor that it makes your head swim. He’d never been so forward before, had never even asked you out to a bar or to dance before, and here he was pressing your lips together like it was second nature to share the air in one another’s lungs. It burns in your veins in the best way possible.

The motion is repeated, over and over with the ash of the cigarette dropping down over his fingers as he puffs and breathed them into you. Your own hands come up to clutch at the fabric of his shirt, like without it you might simply drop to the floor. He doesn’t seem to mind the way your lashes flutter every time he backs off for normal oxygen once again, his own eyes half-lidded and dilated with every pass that the smoke takes between the two of you.

His tongue flicks against yours as he pulls away the final time; the cigarette has burned down to the end, and his usual smile is back in place. “How was that?” Alastor asks softly, using the hand that had parted your lips to cup your cheek, gazing down at you in the dim glow of the streetlight. “You think that was enough of a hit?”

“I- I think I might need another,” you manage to breathe out, and he laughs low and dark, the remnants of the cigarette dropping to the ground where he grinds it in with his heel as he holds you close to him and leans in for a proper, smokeless kiss.

[wzrd-wheezes]

Friday, I'm in Love - Remus Lupin x Reader

"Remus found himself visiting the shop more often and Y/N found herself looking forward to his unplanned but always promised visits." 

AN - I had this idea for a fic ages ago and it's taken me so long to write for some reason. I hope you enjoy n please give it a reblog if you do <3 I also have a lil list of songs that I listened to while writing this so let me know if you want me to post it

It was a slow morning, to say the least. Outside, the downpour was relentless, each raindrop drumming against the thin glass of the record shop’s front windows, blurring the already muted colours of the street beyond. The warm glow of the shop lights barely reached the pavement.  

Y/N hadn’t seen a customer in over an hour and the stillness had settled into a comfortable rhythm. She passed the time by meticulously arranging the coins in the till, the soft clinking sounds punctuating the quiet. The final notes of a record filled the room before slowing to a comforting crackle. Choosing the music that played instore was one of the few small joys on slow days. 

She wandered over to the old turntable, her fingers trailing along the edge of a weathered box of records. The sleeves, many of them worn and well-loved, slipped past her fingers as she thumbed through them. After a moment of contemplation, she settled on one, slipping it from its sleeve and setting it on the turntable, guiding the needle to the edge. The familiar crackle started once more, followed by the comforting notes of the music.  

Y/N hummed to herself as she wandered around the small shop, flitting between the shelves, straightening records, adjusting displays and dusting off the shelves. She was working alone today, however, she didn’t mind the solitude – there was something peaceful about the quiet, empty shop, surrounded by rows of records and the soft glow old the old lamps. With no one to talk to and no customers to serve, she settled herself back behind the till, pouring herself a fresh mug of coffee and perching on the counter behind her, reaching for her book that she kept stashed away. 

She had just settled into a good part of her book when the sharp jingle of the bell above the door startled her. She looked up, the shop’s quiet suddenly disrupted as a gust of cool, rain-scented air swept in. A man stepped inside shaking droplets from his coat as he paused in the doorway, taking in the warmth of the shop. 

For a moment, their eyes met and Y/N felt a flutter of surprise at the sudden presence. She closed her book softly, setting it aside as she slid off the counter. He was dripping from the rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair slightly dishevelled. His eyes scanned the room before they finally landed on her. He offered a small, almost sheepish smile as he stepped further inside. 

“Bloody horrible out there, isn’t it?” he said, his voice warm despite the miserable weather. He ran a hand through his damp hair, attempting to tame it as he gave her a lopsided grin.  

“Absolutely,” she agreed, “You can hang your jacket up while you look around if you like? There’s nothing worse than a soggy coat while you’re trying to shop.” she gestured towards the coat stand adjacent to the door.  

He smiled appreciatively, immediately taking her up on the offer and shedding the sodden jacket, revealing a rumpled jumper underneath.  

“Thank you. It’s nice to be out of the rain for a bit.” he said, his eyes flickering over the shelves of records that lined the walls. 

“Can I get you a coffee or anything? It’s only meant to be for staff, but you look like you could do with warming up.” 

He looked pleasantly surprised, a grateful smile spreading across his face. 

“That would be lovely, actually. As long as it won’t get you into trouble?” 

Y/N laughed shaking her head, “It’s only me in today and I won’t tell if you don’t.” 

He chuckled, clearly relieved, “Deal. I appreciate it.” 

With a nod, she moved behind the counter, grabbing the coffee pot from the warmer and pouring it into a clean mug. A moment later, she joined him by the shelves, handing him the steaming cup. 

“Here you go. Try not to spill any on the records - you’ll get me sacked and I actually quite like this job.” she teased.  

He took the mug with a grin, “I’ll try to be extra careful. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for your imminent unemployment.” 

“Glad to hear it. I’ll be over there,” she jutted her head towards the till, “Give me a shout if you need anything.” 

She watched him as he browsed; he was interesting to look at. His trousers were slightly too short for his lanky frame, and with every step they revealed glimpses of his mismatched socks. His hair, now starting to dry, was settling into soft waves. When she had handed him the mug, she had noticed that his hands were marked with white scars, matching the ones that adorned his face. He seemed absorbed in the records, flipping through them with a thoughtful expression. Occasionally, he would pause to examine a cover. After a short while, he approached the counter with a small stack of records in hand. 

 “I think I’ve found a few that might be worth a listen.” he set them down with a satisfied smile. 

“Yeah? Any particular mood you’re going for, or just exploring?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.  

“Just exploring. I haven’t bought any new ones in a while.” he shrugged. 

“Let’s see what you’ve picked, then.” she reached out, “I promise I won’t judge – at least, not to your face anyway.” 

“Fair enough. I’ll take my chances.” he leaned forward on the counter as he watched her inspect his choices. 

“Hey this is good one- Unknown Pleasures.” 

“Yeah? I’ve heard a couple songs, y’know on the radio and stuff. Thought I’d give it a proper go.” he pulled down the sleeves of his jumper over his hands, toying with a loose thread as he spoke to her, “What about this one? You listened to it?” 

She turned the album over in her hands, poring over the track list on the back. She frowned and shook her head. 

“I haven’t actually. Heard of it, but never gave it a listen.” she totted up his total as she spoken to him, “You’ll have to let me know if it’s worth a listen. 

He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a small pile of coins, dropping them into her outstretched palm as he counted them.  

“It’s been nice speaking to you.” he smiled sincerely at her, “Oh, and thanks again for the coffee.”  

“No worries at all. It’s nice having someone to chat to on slow days like today.” she glanced up at him and she put his money into the till, “Thanks for not spilling it all over the albums.”  

He grinned as he took the bag of records and headed towards the door, pausing momentarily to shrug his jacket back on. With one last nod in her direction, he pushed the door open and stepped back out into the rain, the shop once again settling into its quiet rhythm. 

A few weeks later, the weather had shifted from the relentless rain to a drearier drizzle. Inside, Y/N was immersed in sorting out a new batch of records behind the counter, the crackle of vinyl playing softly in the background. 

The familiar jingle of the doorbell caught her attention and she smiled to herself when she saw who it was. 

“Back already?” she grinned.  

“Couldn’t stay away apparently.” he stepped inside, shaking the rain from his umbrella and looking around with an appreciative nod, “I was just passing actually, thought I’d stop by and see what’s new.” 

This time, he looked more prepared for the weather, sliding his umbrella into the stand by the door. His hair was now tousled in a more deliberate way, though the sense of casual coolness in his clothes remained. 

“You’ve got great timing.” 

He cocked his head and looked at her quizzically, walking over to where she stood at the counter. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. We just got a delivery this morning. I’m just sorting through it if you want to take a look?” 

He nodded and moved to stand opposite her, resting his elbows on the wooden countertop. As he leaned in, his eyes focused on the box of records, his fingers lightly brushing over the album covers. 

He began to sift through the records, carefully flipping through the albums. As he examined each one, the two of them fell into a comfortable rhythm, their conversation flowing easily. Every so often, they would both reach for a record at the same time, their fingers brushing against each other's. Each time, he would glance up with a sheepish smile, his cheeks flushing slightly as he mumbled an apology.  

“I didn’t catch your name last time.” Y/N said, filling the silence, “I feel a bit rude not knowing it.” 

“Remus.” he looked up, eyes locking with hers, “and yours?” 

She smiled and pointed to the name badge pinned to her t-shirt. His cheeks tinged pink again and he quickly looked down at the album in his hands and then back to her. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m an idiot.” he laughed, “I should’ve noticed that.”  

She laughed softly, waving off his embarrassment, “You’re fine, don’t worry,” she said, her tone reassuring, then with a nod towards the album in his hands, she asked, “Any of them catch your eye?” 

They spent the next half an hour deeply immersed in a spirited discussion about music, bouncing from one artist to another. Remus’s enthusiasm was palpable; he could have spent hours delving into the intricacies of his favourite albums. His passion was evident in the way that he spoke, animated and engaged. He had taken to leaning forward, his forearms resting on the counter as he spoke to her.  

Eventually, he glanced up at the old clock hanging on the wall and realised how late it had gotten, “I should probably get going.” he said, reluctantly straightening up, “It’s been great talking music with you, though. Thanks for all the recommendations.” 

“Anytime. Small price to pay for having someone to talk to on a quiet shift.” she smiled, sliding the album he had bought into a bag. 

Remus came to the record store more and more often over the following months. They had settled into a familiar routine, discussing the merits of the latest addition to his collection and conversing about different genres and artists. Over the months, he had collected a plethora of albums: Ramones, David Bowie, The Cure, Fleetwood Mac, Joy Division. Anything that she recommended, he would buy and the next time he stopped by they would have a lengthy discussion about it. Remus found himself visiting the shop more often and Y/N found herself looking forward to his unplanned but always promised visits. 

One afternoon, they were having a fairly heated discussion. Y/N had hoisted herself up on the counter behind the till, and Remus was leaning forward, propped up on his elbows on the counter facing her.  

“I mean, you can’t deny the impact of Three Imaginary Boys,” Remus said, “It’s got that sort of gritty edge that you don’t get in their later stuff.” 

Y/N shook her head, her eyes sparkling with conviction, “I get that, but sometimes it’s not about the sound it’s about how the music makes you feel. With their later stuff it’s like they took all of that energy and polished it and made it into something great.” 

Remus raised an eyebrow, the scar across his lip stretching as he smirked, “Are you saying that because you think its natural progression, or just because you’re a fan of their later stuff?” 

“Both.” she replied with a grin. 

Their voices were animated, the shop’s usual quiet atmosphere was replaced with the lively exchange, each of them passionately defending their point with the occasional joking jab to the other.  

As the conversation continued, Y/N shifted her position slightly, causing a stack of records to wobble precariously. Remus’s lanky frame stretch across the counter, straining to try and steady them. Their hands brushed briefly, lingering for a moment longer than usual. They exchanged a quick, knowing glance before returning to their previous positions. 

“Do you want to go out for a drink or something sometime?” Remus blurted the words out before he even realised what he was saying. 

Y/N paused, her eyes widening slightly as she processed the sudden, unexpected offer. Remus’s face flushed a deep shade of red, and he fumbled with the album he was holding, suddenly very interested in the cover. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he stammered, feeling a wave of embarrassment, “I just thought it might be nice to hang out outside the shop, y’know, when you’re not working and being paid to talk music with me.” 

Y/N smiled at his nervous rambling, “I’d like that. It sounds like a lot of fun.” 

Relief washed over Remus, and he looked up, meeting her eyes with a hopeful grin, “Really? Brilliant. I wasn’t sure if it was too forward or-” 

“No, not at all.” she cut off his worry before he could spiral, “Friday?” 

Friday afternoon arrived faster than Remus had anticipated, and by the time he reached the bar, his nerves had crept back in. The bar was warm and dimly lit, with old wooden beams and music humming from a jukebox tucked in the corner. As he stepped inside, he scanned the room and spotted Y/N almost immediately. She was seated near the window, her fingers drumming against the scrubbed wooden table as she stared out of the window. 

“Sorry, I’m late. The rain-” he wiped his palms nervously against his jeans. 

“You’re not late, don’t worry. I’m early if anything.” she gestured to the seat opposite her, inviting him to sit down. 

Relieved, Remus nodded and slipped into the chair, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit, “Good, I was worried I’d kept you waiting.” 

“Not at all.” she assured him, “Besides, it gave me time to order us some drinks.” She gestured to the table, where two glasses awaited, “I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty of choosing something for us.” 

It was strange seeing him outside the context of the record store. The casual way he carried himself was different from his usual, more reserved demeanour. As he picked up his drink to take a sip, Y/N’s eyes drifted up to the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear. 

“S’a nervous habit.” he said, catching her looking and smiling ruefully. 

“So,” Y/N started, leaning in slightly with a teasing glint in her eyes. “Are you prepared to defend all your music opinions tonight, or are we calling a truce?” 

Remus laughed, “I didn’t come here unarmed, but I’ll call a truce—for now.” 

He glanced over at the jukebox in the corner, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins, sliding them across the table to Y/N with a playful grin.  

“Here.” he said, “Why don’t you go and pick something? I’m pretty sure that we’ve just heard the same two songs on loop. Unless, of course, you have a soft spot for cheesy ballads?” 

“Please, I’ve got better taste than that.” she raised an eyebrow as she took the coins, “Although the thought of making you sit through Total Eclipse of the Heart isn’t entirely unappealing.” 

Remus chuckled, leaning back in his chair as he watched her stand, “I’ll be on my best behaviour then,” he replied, “No one deserves that kind of torture.” 

Y/N made her way to the jukebox, scanning the selection, taking her time as she pondered her choices. After a moment, she made her pick and returned to the table with a triumphant smile. 

“Your ears are safe for now,” she said, sliding back into her seat, “I went with something a little less torturous.” 

“You always get bonus points for Bowie,” Remus smiled, looking at her over the top of his glass, “Good call.” 

Y/N’s knee bumped against Remus’s as she shifted in her seat. Instead of immediately pulling away, Remus remained still, their legs pressed together. The contact lingered as Y/N glanced at him, her cheeks warming slightly. She could feel the gentle pressure of his leg against hers and the warmth it brought. 

Remus looked over at her, his gaze soft and a bit uncertain. He could feel his heart rate pick up, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he allowed himself to relax into the contact. 

As the evening continued, their closeness remained, the subtle touch of their legs became a quiet reminder of the connection they were building. Each time one of them would go up to put a song on the jukebox, the small movement seemed almost rehearsed. They would slip back into their seat, their legs resuming their previous position almost instinctively.  

“I think we’ve exhausted every good song on the jukebox.” Y/N noted an hour or so later, returning to the table once again.  

“I thought the exact same thing-” his voice trailed off as the song that began playing caught his ear, “You promised no cheesy ballads!”  

Y/N held her hands up in mock surrender, a mischievous glint in her eye, “I never promised.” she said, leaning in slightly, “I just couldn’t help winding you up a bit.” 

“I should have known better.” Remus shook his head jokingly, “And I’ve ran out of change so I can’t put something else on.” 

“You’re joking.” Y/N’s eyes widened, “I just used the last of mine as well. I refuse to let Total Eclipse of the Heart be the last song we hear tonight.”  

Y/N drained the last of her drink her eyebrows knitting together as she thought. Remus fidgeted in his seat, reaching his hand up to rub at the back of his neck nervously. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before the words finally came out. 

“Why don’t you come back to mine?” 

The words hung in the air for a moment, both of them surprised by his sudden boldness. He quickly added, “I mean, only if you want to. I don’t know if you know this but I have a pretty good record collection.” he let out a shaky laugh. 

“Oh, yeah?” she leaned forward a little, eyes sparkling, “I wonder where you got those from.” 

As they walked, Remus began to explain, almost apologetically, that he shared his place with two friends. He spoke casually, describing the flat as small and a bit cluttered. His tone was slightly self-deprecating as he mentioned the occasional mess, but he assured her that it wasn’t too chaotic.  

“Luckily they’re out tonight, at a party of something.” he mused, “otherwise they’d talk your ear off as soon as you stepped through the door.” 

“Are you not a party kind of person then?”  

“Absolutely not.” Remus dug around in his pocket for his keys, retrieving them with a jingle and unlocked the door. Remus ushered her up the stairs almost immediately. 

“Would’ve made them tidy up downstairs if I had planned this properly.” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “At least I know that my room is somewhat clean.” 

Y/N smiled at him reassuringly, following him into his bedroom. She didn’t know Remus all too well, but his room was the pure essence of him. His bed was pushed up against one wall, a cosy mess of sheets and blankets, a wooden bedside table sat proudly beside it, a stack of books perched precariously on top.  

Y/N made a beeline for the record player that sat in the corner of the room, two boxes of records placed on the floor beside it.  

“Mind if I put something on?” she asked, beginning to flick through the albums before he could answer. 

“Go for it,” he smiled, “I’ll go get us a drink while you choose.” 

Remus’s heart was racing a little as he walked down to the kitchen. She was in his room and he didn’t know what to do. He was so comfortable around her in the confines of the record shop, but now she was here, in his space, looking through his records and smiling at him in a way that made his heart melt. 

“Pull yourself together, idiot.” he muttered as he crossed to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of beer.  

When Remus came back into the room, bottles in hand, he couldn’t help but grin at the sight before him. Y/N was sat cross legged on the floor, completely absorbed in the albums she had spread out around her. A pile of records rested in her lap as she sifted through them, occasionally pausing to inspect a cover or read the tracklist on the back. The warm glow of the lamp on his bedside table cast a soft glow over the scene, making everything feel somehow more intimate and familiar.  

He cleared his throat softly, handing her one of the beers as he sat down on the floor next to her, trying to mask the nervous energy still buzzing in his chest. 

“You’ve got a pretty solid collection her,” she said, raising her bottle in appreciation. 

“Thanks.” he replied with a slight chuckle, though he knew most of those records had come from her recommendations. 

She slid one of the records from its sleeve, glancing at him briefly before getting up to place it on the turntable. The needle dropped, and soon enough, the low hum of music filled the room, ground the quiet tension between them. 

As she sat back down, their knees brushed again, but this time, neither of them pulled away. Instead, they both stayed in the easy closeness. Y/N turned her head slightly to meet his gaze, catching him staring at her. He quickly looked away, a soft blush creeping up his neck. She smiled to herself, leaning back on her hands. 

“Y’know you have a couple of doubles?” she said after a moment. 

“Hm?” Remus blinked, looking over at her. 

“Yeah.” she grinned, holding up two identical copies of Lonon Calling, “When I was looking through, I noticed you’ve got quite a few albums twice. D’you keep spares or something?” 

Remus let out a nervous laugh, rubbing a hand across his face, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, “Yeah, uh.. About that.” 

Y/N tilted her head, her grin widening. “What? You just really love The Clash?” 

He sighed, giving her a sheepish look, “Not exactly. I, uh... ran out of records I wanted to buy.” 

“So, you just bought the same ones again?” her brows furrowed together. 

“I didn’t want to stop coming in.” Remus’s gaze was fixed on the floor. 

Her smile softened as the meaning behind his words sank in, “You didn’t want to stop coming in?” she repeated, her tone teasing but gentle.  

Remus nodded, eyes still on the floor as if he wished it would just swallow him whole, “Yeah. I mean, the records were a good excuse, but.. It was more about seeing you.” 

Y/Nfelt her cheeks warm. She hadn’t been expecting him to admit it so openly, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She nudged him lightly with her shoulder, trying to ease the tension. 

“You could’ve just said you wanted to see me, y’know. Would’ve saved you some money.” she teased.  

He let out a shaky laugh, finally looking up to meet her eyes, “Yeah, well, hindsight’s a wonderful thing.”  

“Well, for the record,” she held up one of his albums playfully, “You didn’t need a reason to come back. I would’ve liked seeing you anyway.” 

Remus blinked, surprised by the ease with which she said it, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” her voice was softer, almost shy now, “I thought that was obvious.” 

They stayed there in the quiet for a moment, their legs still touching, the air between them thick with something unspoken.  

“Don’t supposed you kept your receipts?” Y/N turned to face him. 

He laughed, shaking his head, “Nah. I wasn’t exactly thinking that far ahead.” 

Without thinking, Y/N leaned in, and Remus found himself tilting his head slightly to meet her halfway. Their lips brushed together softly at first, one of Remus’s hands trailing up to cup the side of her face in his hand. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, breathless smiles lighting up their faces. 

“You’re a bit of an idiot, y’know that?” she teased. 

“Yeah... probably.” he just smiled and kissed her again. 

[zonaenthusiast]

I just thought of something about OPLA season 2 while I was making myself lunch and I gagged myself a little bit, actually.

In this season we got to see Nami's illness, it's something that simply can't be ignored because it's central to Chopper's joining the crew. Zoro and Nami aren't together for most of Drum's arc in the manga because he's not in the group that's in charge of getting help, but he's the only one who realizes that Nami has been bitten by something, he is the first to react when Nami faints the first time and we also see him next to her for a brief moment to check on her condition before arriving on the island.

Considering the latter and the changes they've already made, I think the live action could take advantage and create a parallel to the scene in the first season where Nami reads stories to him. It would be so nice to see him in a similar state to the one she found herself in when she thought he was going to die.

If they do something like that, this moment alone for me would be enough in terms of the relationship between the two because I fully understand that they are looking to develop other dynamics this season. All I ask is that they don't completely forget about them.

[g1rld1ary]

Hey!! I saw you write for lockwood & co, so I've been summoned ✨

May I request an Anthony Lockwood x reader where it's basically like the deleted scene where Lucy is in a towel and compliments Lockwood's pajamas, and Lockwood (probably panicking) says he likes her towel and he has this face of instant regret

Basically that but with reader and maybe they're already dating? Thank you so much!!

nice towel - anthony lockwood x reader

wc: 922

cw: r gets caught in just a towel, kissing (slightlyyyy suggestive content maybe??), swearing

thank u so much for this request sweetheart!! i know it took so long but it was so fun to write -- i know i took it in a little different direction but i hope u enjoy & i did ur req justice!!!! lots of love xoxo

It wasn’t always easy living with your coworkers. Especially when your coworkers were all teenagers your age, including your very new boyfriend. Having four people in relatively cramped quarters was bound to bring uncomfortable situations, but you all tried to handle it like the adults you weren’t yet.

The aforementioned uncomfortable situations happened most often surrounding the bathroom. One bathroom between four people wasn’t the worst arrangement in the world, but with four people with such irregular schedules, it was inevitable that sometimes your visits would coincide.

Usually it wasn’t so bad; two people sharing the sink as they brushed their teeth, you sitting in the shower (clothed, of course) shaving your legs as George did his hair. Life was mostly peaceful.

You were taking a Sunday night everything shower, washing your hair and using the fancy exfoliator and body wash you got as a birthday gift. Your body was smooth, you felt glowing and you were wrapped in a fluffy warm towel, painting your toes as you sat on the toilet. You were the last to shower so you had no inclination to rush, knowing there wasn’t a great chance of anyone bursting in with any urgency.

Except, of course, Lockwood and Co. never did what you expected. A loud banging came through the door and you jumped, swiping the nail polish over your skin instead of the nail.

You jumped up regardless, clutching your towel tightly across your chest as you opened the door. George, Lucy and Lockwood stood on the other side, all in their pyjamas and panting slightly. You stared at them, one eyebrow raised expectantly.

“What do you remember about the Jefferson House ghost?” George asked, catching you off guard.

“Huh?”

“Jefferson House ghost. The poison case. I was visiting family, Lucy wasn’t part of the company yet and Lockwood is useless at remembering research. What do you remember?” You were still struggling to understand the purpose of this question, but shrugged and answered anyway, rattling off whatever you could remember about the house, the ghost and the case.

“You’re so much more useful than Lockwood,” Lucy said, shooting you both a teasing smile. Lockwood rolled his eyes, but amusement shone through underneath.

“Right. Well, I’d like to get back to my night, uh,” You caught a glance of Lockwood’s matching pink set of pyjamas, “Nice pyjamas.” Lockwood glanced down at his outfit and you swore you saw him blush, a rosy colour similar to his shirt. Lucy and George watched between you.

“Thanks,” He said, eyes giving you a once over, “Nice… towel.” You could actually see the regret seeping into his bones, mortified cringe screwing up his features. You bit your lip, an awkward giggle escaping as all four of you stood, slightly unsure of what to do.

You took the initiative, slowly backing away from the group, pressing the door closed as you heard Lucy’s deadpan: “Lockwood, what the fuck?” and his panicked reply.

“I panicked!”

You had a total physical reaction, the tangible awkwardness of the moment permeating through the bathroom. You did an embarrassing wriggle-shake-expelling of discomfort and immediately felt better, going so far as to laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

You and Lockwood had only been dating for a few months, trying to take things slow and ensure you weren’t compromising the state of the company. Therefore, you hadn’t spent the night in his room yet. So you’d never seen Lockwood in his adorable matching set of flannels and he’d never seen you less than fully clothed (with the exception of him patching you up a few times where you looked so unsexy).

Later that night, you knocked softly on Lockwood’s door, pushing it open gently. Only the lamp was still on, Lockwood reading in his bed, still dressed in the pink pyjamas. He looked up when you entered, surprised but not at all disappointed.

Your usual rule was that you spent time together in the library at night; private but not at risk of crossing lines that might make George or Lucy uncomfortable — the company was both of your priorities.

“I am so sorry for before,” Lockwood begged for forgiveness, smile both embarrassed and entertained. You shook your head, dismissing the apology.

“It’s ok, I laughed.” He relaxed immediately, megawatt smile back out for you to admire. He patted the spot beside him and you all but dove in next to him, giddy at the feeling of being in his bed. “You’re pyjamas are really cute, by the way.” He blushed again, putting his arm around you and pulling you close. You hoped he couldn’t feel your racing heart.

“Yeah?” His eyes glinted with mischief, “You looked pretty cute in the towel too.”

“Yeah?” You couldn’t help the girlish giggle that escaped you, looking up at him through your lashes in a way you knew he liked.

“Yeah.” He swooped down and stole a kiss, triumphant when he pulled away until you grabbed the back of his neck, connecting your lips deeper. He let out a startled noise before he melted into it, adjusting you to a more comfortable position underneath him.

Lockwood pulled away to admire the view.

“Maybe we need to rethink our rules,” He murmured, playing with a strand of your hair absentmindedly.

“Anthony, I swear to God, if you don’t keep kissing me —”

You didn’t have to finish the sentence.

[jessicaseroticramblings]

The doorbell rang as I was getting out of the shower. I dried myself quickly then threw on a long cotton shirt. I walked downstairs and opened the door. My friend Kaitlin was standing there looking like she had been crying. She came in and sat on the couch as I closed the door. 

“Kaitlin what’s wrong? Don’t tell me he did it again?” I asked her as I sat next to her. The ‘he’ I was referring to was her bf Jim who I just hated. He had cheated on her twice but she had took him back both times. Kaitlin was way too forgiving and he would take advantage of that again and again. Kaitlin nodded and started crying again. I put my arms around her and hugged her. My shirt had fallen open a little but I was more concerned about comforting Kaitlin. 

“No more chances for that jerk. You hear me? You are too good for him,” I told her as I cuddled her. My arms were wrapped around her and as I shifted closer to hug her tighter my shirt fell open even more. “I’m not going to let you give him any more chances. He’s not going to hurt you again.”

“Um, Jessica?” she said as we held each other. 

“Yes Kaitlin.” 

“You know you’re half naked right?” she said as we continued to cuddle. 

“Oh… haha, so I am. I was just in the shower. Should I go throw some clothes on,” I asked her but she hadn’t pulled back from me. 

“Actually it’s nice feeling this close to you Jess,” she said. My breasts were pressed against her own shirt covered breasts. 

“Well why don’t you take these off and we can feel even closer,” I said and to my surprise she let go of me and slipped off her shirt and her skirt. She looked at me for a moment before hugging me and I took her in my arms again. Kaitlin was one of my best friends and even though I was bi I had never really thought about her in any sexual way before, but as we cuddled on the couch my feelings for her were changing by the second. “Kneel on the floor with me baby.” 

She let go and slipped onto the floor with me. As she knelt I moved behind her, wrapping my arms around her again to hold her. Instead of just holding her I let one hand slip between her legs to hold her through her panties, and my other hand gently cupped one of her breasts. 

“Jessica………..” she moaned softly. 

“Kaitlin, that loser doesn’t deserve a girl like you. You need to be loved and treated like a princess. I want to show you how you deserve to be treated. May I show you?” I asked her as I held her close to me. She didn’t say anything for a few moments and I suddenly thought maybe I had gone too far. 

“Show me Jessica,” she said softly and as she spoke I kissed her neck as gently squeezed her breast. Kaitlin and I had never even kissed each other before but suddenly this felt so natural. I rubbed her mound through her panties a little before I slipped my fingers inside them. I felt Kaitlin’s pussy lips and as I did she let her head lay back against my shoulder. I kissed her neck again and again as I slipped two fingers inside her. She was squirming in my grasp, moaning and reaching back to run her fingers through my hair. 

“Oh god, please Jess make me cum for you. I need it, please!” she gasped as she started grinding against my fingers inside her. Kaitlin was becoming so wet on my fingers as I plunged them in and out of her pussy, as my other hand squeezed her breast, my palm rubbing against her hard nipple. I pressed my thumb against her clit as I finger fucked her, loving how she was leaning back against my body, my own hard nipples pressing against her back. 

“Kaitlin baby I want you to cum for me. Cum for me as I hold you against me,” I whispered into her ear. She was writhing in my arms, breathing in quick short gasps. I started circling her hard nipple with my fingertip, teasing her until pinched her nipple, making her squeal and gyrate her hips like she was fucking my hand. 

“Jess….. Jess…… oh fuck Jess!” she screamed as she arched back into me, her pussy clenching and gushing over my fingers. Kaitlin came in my arms as I nibbled on her ear lobe, ordering her to cum for me. As her orgasm took hold of every inch of her body I pulled out my fingers and spanked her pussy as she squealed, then I rubbed her clit wanting to draw out her orgasm for as long as I could. As she moaned she turned her head back to me as far as she could and we kissed, my fingers still working her clit. As she calmed down slowly she turned around and we cuddled and kissed, holding each other. 

“You don’t need that loser of a bf anymore,” I said as I held her. 

“I know Jess, I just need you,” she said softly 💋

[hightidesandoldmen]

Listen to me

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Mind control fetish, dom/sub dynamics, Bill gave Ford some weird kinks and the sooner Stan can make it work for them the sooner they can turn this Sailing Retirement into a Gargantuan Amounts Of Sex World Tour, Ford tries to dom but is a sub at heart, dubious consent, if its dubious consent on both sides is it still dub con or just a very weird moment for everyone?, hand jobs, blow jobs, though admittedly the smut at the end is purpousefully a bit of an afterthought.

Notes: I have always been curious about the concept of 'Dark Ford but Stan turns the tables on him' as a concept but i don't really see it in fic

--

Sixer had always been... a bit of a control freak. It wasn't a huge deal or anything back in the day because while Stan was rambunctious he DID know when his brother knew better and was willing to follow his brains and plans and all of that. He was perfectly content to simply punch in the direction that Stanford pointed him in.

In his more bitter moments on the road he hadn't wondered if Ford's actual anger at the science fair project thing was more for the fact that he hadn't been in control in the moment (and Stan hadn't been either but that was his own fault, Pa was right in that regard) or if Ford hadn't already been pulling away from him in the first place because He'd wanted to keep being in control of the situation-

and when his wants for 'the plan' had changed, the fact that Stan's hadn't had put him in a place where he couldn't control the situation as well. He didn't know. By that point maybe he didn't know his brother all that well at all anymore. (maybe he'd stopped knowing his brother well when he'd had to start looking away when Ford would change in their room because his throat would suddenly get dry and his heart would race, If it wouldn't have ruined everything between them Stan would have wondered if it would be a comfort to Ford to know his brother was much more of a freak than he'd ever be)

By the time he was being summoned to oregon he was well aware his brother was a different person now, it was fine, he was too. But it seemed Stanford's desire for control had never faded. It might have been the biggest screw up and mistake of Stanley's life- but if Ford was ever even the slightest bit willing to actually work WITH him it could have been avoided. It was still Stan's fault in the end though. his brother was a control freak, but that was fine- everyone had their flaws. But Ford was gentle he was always gentle.

this horror nightmare dimension on the other side of the portal- that was going to do horrible things to him and he was going to need him.

There was an odd vindictiveness to it- that for the first time, He had been in control and not Ford. He was the one that was doing something about all of this. Not his brother. If it wasn't because of his own failures, he would have called it oddly nice.

Then there came that summer, the twins, the portal working again, Bill....

and ultimately, Ford coming back.

And coming back even more of a control freak as ever. But it was okay now. They were okay now.

and Ford had smiled at him and the plan was the one Stanley had given up on but always secretly still wanted. And maybe Stan could live with being the person that just punched in the direction Ford pointed him in again.

Maybe it would be fun.

maybe being around the person Ford was now would mean that the hard thump in his chest

--

It was about two months out to sea when it happened. Stan had had a fling with a siren most recently, apparently they didn't actually mind control people, they just found out what you wanted and told you they had it until you'd go after them. He'd met a little blacksheep that wanted to talk about what SHE wanted, and Stan had been curious- but it turns out that angle was in and of itself a siren angle and he'd been dragged into the water.

Ford had been pissed beyond all beleif- he had of course warned Stan about it, freshwater sirens were mostly harmless apparently, and double apparently he'd even dated one himself in Gravity falls, but saltwater sirens were to a one maneaters. But Stan had dodged hypothermia and they sent a polaroid to the kids of him still picking kelp out of his hair to make it feel funny again.

But ford had had this weird twist to his mouth for the rest of the day, and Stan wasn't sure if it was really all THAT big of a deal because- well he'd punched out a few of the girls siren buddies, so they weren't THAT tough... but... Ford was still pretty pissed. So Stan- figured he'd better do something to make it up to his brother.

"Hey- come on Poindexter- I'm fine, and those sirens weren't nothing!" he swung an arm around Ford's shoulders and the pinch to his lip didn't fade, but his gaze did soften a touch.

and Stan figured he was PROBABLY in the clear...

"Life would just be easier if you just-... listened more Stanley..." He groaned, and Stan grinned.

"Sorry Poindexter, Im too stubborn for ya! Can't stop me unless ya tie me down!"

Ford went wierdly quiet at that.

like... WIERDLY quiet.

it should probably have been a red flag, but in that moment Stan just wondered if he was re-lancing the wound before it was ready so instead he joked again "And even then it's a 50/50 shot i'll just get back out!"

and thankfully Ford laughed again.

though Stan did feel eyes on him every so often for the rest of the day.

--

admittedly that should have been something his conman brain should have picked up on, but as it was he seemed to have blinders when it came to Ford, his brother was always surprising him.

So naturally he didn't suspect most anything at all when on a calm day still on the coast of Ireland, Ford mentioned wanting to stay 'home' rather than go to the pub in the village they were docked at.

And Stan figured he probably should hang with him as to make up for the whole 'scaring ford half to death for nearly becoming Siren chow' thing, so he stayed behind as well and while Ford was doing... whatever he was doing he'd update the sail logs. for all that it grated on Stan that they were going to have to be 'on the books' now and probably until after he croaked, if they managed to somehow end up lost at sea then the kids were SURE to recover their logs somehow and they should know if they went out figthing a kracken or running from antlantian guards or something.

"Hey Stanley-" Ford spoke up from where he was rummaging through his things, clearly looking for something. "Can you close the cabin door?"

"Huh-?" He was maybe ABOUT to complain about his knees but, eh whatever. he got up and his knees creaked ominously, but he lumbered the two steps over to the cabin door and shut it. "what's the deal, Ford? you find some contraband in there that could get us thrown out of Leprechaun territory before i can steal a pot of gold from these rubes?"

"No- I simply wanted to know if you would... like to experience something with me?" Ford pulled out a worn down looking bag full of... some irridescent shimmery looking shit-

"Did mabel send us a bag of glitter and you're about to throw it in my face?" he wondered treptidatiously, and Ford grinned, and... it looked wierdly sharp. Stan was more on guard than he perhaps should have been, (though in hindsight that possibly is what made things shake out the way they did so he was thankful for his paranoia in that moment)

"No- this is something i came across a few dimensions ago, it's a sort of pscychoactive substance that when burned releases a smoke that upon inhilation can cause a delightfully non-addicting sensation."

wait...

"Sixer are you asking me if i wanna get high with you?" ford's cheeks suddenly burned red and he coughed into his hand; and stan only took a moment to appreciate that that bashful look made his whole face soften.

"to put it crassly, i suppose, i simply have experienced such a thing before and i considered that you would appreciate such a state as well."

Then ford grinned a beseeching grin at him with that pink in his cheeks not faded yet and Stan was a weak weak man with a disgusting attraction that should not be. because he rolled his eyes and headed for his bed, because ford grinning at him like that was kind of all he needed to do whatever his twin (his TWIN he was such a sick freak that it hadn't even changed now after EVERYTHING) wanted him to.

Stan liked giving ford what he wanted- he was sure if he dug his heels in and said a firm no he'd be able to out-stubborn his brother, but he LIKED giving Ford what he wanted. So he leaned back against his pillows and threw his hands behind his head.

"Alright nerd, smoke away."

He tilted his head to watch Ford's hands fumble slightly with a box of matches that were already in his hand, and the wierd glimmery powder was already in a bowl-wow he really had already set the whole thing up before Stan had agreed, hadn't he?

that in hindsight should have been another red flag, but then the flame had gone down onto the shimmering powder- and he'd noticed that Ford had upturned the whole bag rather than portioning it out if they wanted to try this again-

but then the smoke hit the air.

it smelled... wierdly sweet- like burning Cherry wood or Apricot wood... and it WAS kind of a woodburning smell- in a weird way it sort of reminded him of the campfires they used to make when they were young.

the old neighborhood in glass shard beach had no space for a wood burning fireplace or anything, they had a squeaky radiator like everyone else who lived above their family's shop...

"Smells good-" he hummed. but when he glanced at Ford he noticed his brother seemed to already be feeling the effects, he was blinking rapidly and had lifted his hands up to cover his nose. he of course, laughed.

"You get a face full of it by lighting it off sixer?" rookie mistake, he had figured out several tricks to not get a full face of weed smoke back in the day himself, but it seemed Ford wasn't all that much of a recreational drugs person in his own portal based adventures if he made such a rookie mistake...

"No it- it smells odd..." Ford leaned back, and rather than settling onto his own bed he sat on the edge of Stan's. "oddly acrid."

"Really? smells fine to me." he gave another experimental sniff and sure enough yes, the smell of sweet woods and campfires and all of that... "What does it smell different for everyone or something? scifi nerd drugs change smell depending on the person?" he wondered, and, after a moment's pause, ford sighed.

"Yes i suppose so. It's... probably fine, as you said."

An rare concession from Ford, but a welcome one so Stan scooted to the side a bit and patted at the empty space on his bed. "come on- if you're gonna be right here when we both get high as balls on space weed then might as well get comfy."

and Ford, thankfully, listened to him and reclined next to him as they began to hotbox their cabin

For a while Stan was wondering if the damn drug would kick in yet, because he was just smelling some not unpleasent sweet woodburn smoke but he absolutely did not feel high. Not even in the way that waiting for an edible to kick in would...

though when he tilted his head to ask his brother if he'd gotten jacked by the space-dealer he'd gotten this shit from, Ford...had been effected.

His brother was turned almost entirely toward him, watching him closely, eyes dilated so far that there was only a barely visible ring of dark blue against black.

"You... doing okay Ford?" he wondered- "you want me to crack open a window?"

"No. it's fine." Ford answered, and then followed up with his own "How are you feeling?"

which- whatever. Stan Shrugged. "I mean- fine I guess. doesn't really feel like it's hitting much- you know?" Ford's brow furrowed, and he began to sit up, he looked weirdly perturbed. "What do you mean?" he wondered. and Stan, feeling weird about still reclining while Ford sat up, followed his lead and sat up himself.

"Well- i mean it smells nice, like one of those driftwood campfires we'd use to make on the beach when we were kids, but i don't feel any different. I've been high before, i know what it feels like- you know?"

"What's it supposed to feel like?" he brought up, and- for a moment Stanford looked... weirdly dodgy, looking away, pulling away from him- and okay- that wasn't a good sign. So he pulled out the boss voice. "Stanford, what's going on?"

And Ford was CONSIDERABLY higher than he was, because he folded immediately at the firm tone in his voice.

"You never listen to me. Stanley you NEVER listen to me. if you just LISTENED to me everything would be better! You almost died and everything ALWAYS goes bad when you dont just let me do the thinking im the smart one im the one that SHOULD be in control- and this is Going to - this is going to help us...!"

He pressed his hands to Stan's shoulders, and- fucking- what?

"Stanford are you trying to fucking mind control me? is this mind control shit?"

he felt his ire rising, and Ford-... maybe had thought he was trying to push him back down but he was stoned out of his gourd clearly because he just balled his fists into Stan's shirt and leaned forward a bit too much- honestly it almost looked like he was going to kiss him-

"Not- not really- well- maybe- kind of? It's... I didn't-" he looked back to the still smoking bowl. "It's... not working right."

Stan grit his teeth, and forced down his emotional reaction- he could get pissed when Ford was sober- or maybe wait to get the full explanation and then FORCE him to get lucid by throwing him into the cold irish bay.

"What was supposed to happen. What is this stuff-" he glared at Ford and his brother almost seemed to shrink under his ire. "Tell me. The truth."

Maybe the space drug was booby trapped or something because once he made it a full command, Ford's already hazy gaze seemed just... glaze over.

like all of his brain power was completely shut off but for what he needed to do to fulfil an order.

"I got it in a black market spaceport, i was considering using it for non-lethally neutralizing Bill for a time, it's a meathod of Gambling. the smoke creates a psychic link between those whom inhale it at the same time and the weakest willied will get their willpower siphoned into the stronger willed until the weaker willed could have their very reality rewritten with ease. You were supposed to be the weaker and i could use it to mean you'd stop fighting me on stupid things. And-" Ford's face twisted, in the most resistance in all of this that he seemed capable of as he was trying to bite something back from coming out of his mouth.

which was all well and good because stan slumped onto his knees and tried to keep from screaming.

Keep calm. His brother just tried to... drug and mentally enslave him- that was... it wasn't fine but clearly it didn't fucking WORK so he couldn't be TOO mad he just needed to parse out how mad he SHOULD be when Ford snapped out of this fugue state and went back to being a control freak that was so manic about being a control freak that hed try to mind control him-

"-And i could make you love me"

His eyes snapped open and he turned back to Ford, whom, if possible looked even drowsier than before, like resisting saying that had taken so much energy that he no longer had any more to fight off whatever this fucking psychic mind control drug shit was.

"....What? Ford of course i love you- you're my brother why do you think you needed to do that shit to me to love you?"

"Not like that." Ford's voice had dropped, into a drowsy monotone, like he was speaking in his sleep. "Not like a brother-"

and Stan's blood both froze over and lit aflame at once.

"....What?"

"was- was always jealous..." ford mumbled, and Stan had to press a hand to Ford's shoulder so he wouldn't topple over back onto the floor and he bonelessly flopped onto his bed. "didnt like to see you dating girls" his eyelids were fluttering now, the stupor this whole 'willpower draining' thing was putting him under was very much leaving him too tired to care about anything. like the concious mind had fully shut down and he wasn't really talking to Ford anymore so much as his subconcious.

so that was what he meant by 'the weaker could have their reality shaped'...

which was all the details he was focusing on so he didn't have to think about the fact that ford was implying- that he was saying...

that he felt the same way...

"Wanted you to kiss me instead..." he practically moaned out. And... Stan didn't know why, but he stood up, took the smoking bowl, and walked back to place it beside where ford's head had fallen.

And he didn't know why but he leaned in and started to murmur.

he had rolled with a lot of strange crowds over his ten years of homelessness, and he'd seen things. things that were used to help the women and men of the night that he'd rolled with in Chicago disassociate enough to be able to take clients they couldn't get it up for.

they wouldn't waste drugs in a city of actors. and actors meant things like hypnotists. And he wasn't really attractive enough to be easily selected unless he was someone's type, but the pimp he'd been rolling with for a bit had noticed he had a mean hook so he was sent in to watch the girls and twinks to make sure the people he paid for the time of never put anything nasty in their heads that might take away workers.

"Keep breathing, nice and deep- in.... and out... feel that smoke coming in... feel it clouding up that busy mind, feel it making everything go slower and slower, and how nice it is to feel it going slow. You're always thinking so much Stanford, about so many things, your mind is so exhausted. It feels so good to let your thoughts slow with every deep breath in. And every time you breathe out that smoke has stuck to more and more of your will and your thoughts and when you breathe out you can feel them drifting away, and coming into me-"

"And it's so so easy to just admit to things even if you didn't let yourself think about them much when you feel so smokey and good right now, Isn't that right? You can just say things you knew deep down but were too scared to say, because Your Stan's got you. And you know your Stanley can keep you safe, isn't that right?"

Ford took a deep breath, and sighed out a euphoric "yes...." and Stan figured he probably only had a limited amount of time till this will smoke stuff faded.

and...

well if Ford thought his willpower wasn't important enough to be respected- maybe it'd be justice to understand why.

"Why did you decide to use this instead of any other way to get Stan to listen to you? Why mind control?"

"I find mind control, brainwashing, hypnosis and other types of mental dominance extremely arousing."

Oh.

OH

Well fuck...

"....Is that something you always knew or did you learn it from someone?"

"Bill showed me how wonderful it can be, he was always in control and i wanted to be in control this time." of fucking course it was that damn triangle. why did everything seem to always come back to that damn triangle...

"Do you like being out of control?"

Ford shivered and Stan could see the tent starting to form in his pants. "Yes..."

Stan hummed. "Yeah i bet you would. it's probably so exhausting being the person thats always got the plans and calling the shots. i bet its REALLY nice to just get all dumb and misty and just do what people tell ya, huh?"

"Yes..."

"Say 'Yes Stanley'." he ordered and Ford gave another full body shiver, the tent in his pants growing significantly at the order

"Yes Stanley..."

"Good Boy. Every time you're a good boy and do as you're told you say 'Yes Stanley' Understand?"

"Yes Stanley."

"Good. Now... Tell me about this Will-powder" heh "does this last until its done burning?"

"No, the person whose will is drained remains in a suggestible state unless commanded awake. the psychic link doesnt go both ways, you lose your willpower to the winner and it stays theirs unless freely given back. And even then the psychic siphon remains. the winner can always take the loser's will away again whenever they please."

"Does it... hurt?"

"No... feels... so good...."

Stanford's cock was practically straining against his pants now, and Stan could feel his own stir in sympathy.

He looked away, thumb tapping against the bed as he thought about what to do-...

"Ford when you said you... didn't love me like a brother- what DO you love me like?" He- he knew technically ford had already answered but-that was in the past that was...

that was before everything...

"I want you. Want you to-... to want me... I know its... its wrong its... its taboo... I never wanted anyone else. Not Cathy Crenshaw, not Fiddleford, not Bill... not really... i only ever wanted you and... and it scared me... Even when i hated you i only wanted you back..."

well...

shit...

He spent a bit of time thinking it over. And when the smoke stopped, and he opened a window and Ford remained sprawled out on his bed, half asleep and cock straining for freedom against his pants, Stan figured Ford got generally good information...

About the drug at least...

Fords hips gave a little unconcious twitch upward and... Stan had mercy on him and took one of his heavy hands, dropping it over the bulge and watched with minor fascination as his brother's deft fingers rubbed against the restricted erection but lacked the dexterity to free himself-

At least, not without permission....

"Just keep rubbing there, Stanford" Ford moaned and his hips gave an instinctual twitch into his palming hand.

"Yes Stanley..." it came out as another heaving moan, and... damn...

He could see why Ford wanted this- this kind of control was heady... And ford LIKED control. He just... also liked being out of control. He really liked it.

And... Stan wasn't sure what to do about it-

"One more question- How do you bring will back and take it away?"

"You just tell them to think for themselves again to give it back, but to take away again you need-" Ford moaned. "You establish a trigger for them to remember at once that you possess their willpower"

establish a trigger huh? Like a codeword or something?

Or maybe...

Stan looked over at the drawer he kept some of his bedside things in and felt around until he found some thick glass. A Cologne he had stolen from a french store that was maybe the fanciest cologne he'd ever palmed from a shopping rack. it was one of those ones with the fancy sculpted glass and it even had a little squeeze bottle to spray it!

He had decided to save it only for hot dates and possibly getting to pick strangers up, so he'd yet to use it.

Until now.

"Well lets figure out a trigger for later right now, eh?" he tilted ford's head so he was properly facing upward. "Eyes open, Ford."

"Yes Stanley."

Glazed over, dilated wide, but still that same umber brown that matched his own, Ford's eyes so barely opened, staring into nothing and clearly lost in some wonderful reverie that only existed in his own mind.

Stan tilted his head back and sprayed himself with the cologne, rubbing it in a little to make sure it would get all nice and mixed with his natural body scent. "Sit up." "Yes Stanley." as if being raised up by a wire Ford sat up properly, though his eyes remained staring perpetually forward and focused on nothing. Stan took him by the back of his head, took a moment to appreciate the coarse curls in between his fingers, and pulled Stanford in to press his face up against Stan's neck. "Take a nice deep breath in. I know that smoke didn't smell all that good to you, so try this instead. that smell, of the cologne and me all at once? thats gonna be your trigger, alright? every time you smell this you're going to remember all at once that I've got your willpower. whenever you're awake you're gonna forget it, you're gonna think it's all... manmade stage stuff. Like those magicians that hypnotize the ladies in the dresses to pass the ring around them. you're gonna think you told me about how sexy you think people taking control of your mind was, and i'm providing this wierd but fun kink for you."

"When you're awake you know nothing that happens when you're like this is being done that you don't want to happen, but when you take a breathful of this, when you smell me and smell that cologne, you remember all that once that you gave your will to me. You remember that Stanley's the one that really calls the shots, even if you forget and you convince yourself that you're in control, you know deep down that he's got you on a hook..."

"And every time it'll feel just as good to know that as it does now." He grabbed Ford's hand and ground his palm against his crotch and Ford moaned out the next "Yes Stanley"

"You're such a good boy, Stanford..." he hummed, and let Ford breathe in the scent for a little longer.

But just a little longer because his own cock was getting to aching a bit from lack of attention.

he unbuttoned his jeans and his own dick let out a delightful throb when it was freed from restriction, and when he pulled ford's hand away, and his brother let out a faint whine, he chuckled.

But he thought he was maybe done with this whole thing... For all that this was an... interesting development, he didn't want a mindless thrall- he wanted ford.

"...When i wake you up, And i change your mind on something, or give you an order, you're going to have just a moment of feeling like this again, all nice and hazy and brainless, and will-less and it'll feel so so good, that even when it fades and you'll forget it happened, you'll feel so good agreeing with whatever i was saying or doing whatever i told you that you'll decide it was your idea to do it in the first place. Understand?"

"Yes Stanley."

"And every time you're a good boy and obey you'll say...?"

"Yes Stanley"

"Good Boy."

"Now- last instruction-" he properly undid ford's pants and watched his brother shake as his cock was freed from its constraints. it was turning fucking purple at the tip and some part of Stan wanted to feel the weight of it in his mouth...

Maybe later...

"When you wake up you'll be awake, but your brain will be so thoroughly consumed with lust that all that braniac Sixer thought won't come back until you cum until you can't cum any longer..."

"Like- you'll KNOW this is real, but it'll just feel like you were so lost in lust and the fact that you're living out hormonal dreams you had since your teen years is the only part that's really processing in your head."

"Understand?"

"Yes Stanley."

"Good Boy."

He ran a hand through Ford's hair, and watched him lean into him, peering at Stan with those big dilated eyes, trusting and open. Because he didn't really have any other choice.

Well- it was Ford's doing to make this whole thing happen- Stan could at least make it good for the both of them.

"Wake up now, Ford. Think for yourself again." Ford blinked once, then twice. his brow furrowed, and his pupils restricted, but the hazy look in his eye didn't fade-

and then both hands came up to press against stan's; Ford not just tilting his head into the grip but practically nuzzling into it.

"Stan..." there was a pained sort of strain in Ford's voice, an almost terrified desparation...

"Stanley i- please-" Ford leaned in, and Stan pulled away from him a bit,just to see what would happen- turned out what would happen was that that sci fi survivalist shit would kick in because Ford growled and threw himself forward, pushing stan back until he was straddling him.

"Dont you run away from me-" Ford growled, and-

okay yeah he was JUST starting to see the appeal of being in control he wasn't all too keen on getting rid of it now.

"Nah, you're going to let me take the reigns on this one, Poindexter." Stan began to get back up and sure enough Ford's conviction flickered near immediately-

and to be safe he added on- "You WANT me to call the shots on this one, Stanford."

and for a moment Ford's entire demeanor changed, his eyes hazing over entirely and staring into nothing as lids sank down to half mast and he robotically answered back-

"Yes Stanley" Before shaking it off quickly, and, as if he hadn't thought of anything else but for this to be the endgoal, ford went from straddling him, to throwing himself into stan's lap.

"Please-" he whimpered, bringing his hips as close as he could without actually touching Stan's cock with his own.

"Stan Please- i can't- i- i need- I need you..."

it was then that Stan took pity on his poor will-less brother. Stan chuckled and wrapped one hand around ford's sharp hip bone and pulled him as close as he could get, and with the other, he reached between them both and grabbed hold of their cocks, Ford's was leaking so much precum he didn't have to worry about lube.

"Good boy-" He cooed and Ford moaned, jerking his hips harshly into Stan's hand.

they were a couple of old men, they could probably only go a surprise round once, so when Ford moaned his name a few more times, and came so hard some of the drops splattered on the wall behind the both of them, Stan figured his brother would be tapping out quickly thereafter-

only for Ford to surprise him greatly when it was clear both that Stan was not spent himself, nor was he particularly sated.

a six fingered hand wrapping around his dick was one that only existed in his wildest horniest fantasies, but that face, both similar to his and so different, slowly going down- down- down, until that wet hotness of a mouth encoumpassed him, was so out of his imagination that he couldn't really believe it was happening.

Burying hands in that curly hair and thrusting into a willing, delighted mouth until cub dribbled out of his mouth was a fantasy that had never even been considered enough to be entertained. and yet there it was.

and by the time he was dragging ford up to give him the first proper kiss between them his brother was grinding a second erection onto his knee.

That one... he let ford stay like that. grinding against his knee like an animal, it let him watch his brother's face without splitting his attention anywhere.

the mad lustful joy on Ford's face defeated any leftover concern he might have had.

Ford's mind didn't clear until he came again, but by then he was so tired that when Stan tucked him into his bunk and whispered some instructions for tomorrow-

There had been nothing to do but hazily mumble out 'Yes Stanley' and let the feeling of being a good boy carry him into sleep.

and Stan...

Stan had some ideas.

After all, Ford had gotten himself and Stan into this, it was only fair that Stan make sure his brother got all the enjoyment he could possibly get out of it.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Lessons on Intimidation

Author's note: More of Husbandry AU. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh! Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric.

Summary: Olly is going to tell Cedric about the bullies, and the rest of the squad to warn them about Algret and his brother. Just in case they try to push the other's around. He also asks Kerubiel for mean-ness lessons and 'how to intimidate' people lessons from Khopesh.

Warning: uh... Discussions of bullying. Let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Oleandros is going to tell the rest of the Primaris squad about the Apothecary Space wolf Algret and his friend and what they did. Also- he's going to be asking Kerubiel on how to seem mean. Keru's really good at spooking other people.

Oh! Khopesh is great at Intimidation as well. He's going to go ask Khopesh for lessons on intimidation. He sends Khopesh a message, who eagerly responds and they meet up near the Chaos base.

"Hey Khopesh. Uh. I was wondering if you'd teach me how to be Intimidating?"

"Sure!" Khopesh says, excited that one of the Primaris marines wants to be taught how to intimidate others. He's go so many different ideas, "Before that, I want to know the context."

"So ... there are a couple of Space Wolves," Olly explains what had happened, and how they had bullied him to send a message to Cedric.

"Tch, and they call Night Lords Cowards," Khopesh says shaking his head before grinning maniacally as he started talking about his favorite methods of intimidation and methods of torture.

Olly is grateful for his enthusiasm but says, "I ah...I don't want to Actually torture anyone...you Know that right? Its important to me that you know that."

'Ah sweet summer child still an Ultramarine at heart.' Khopesh thinks to himself fondly as he nods and replies, "Suit yourself, but I will Gladly teach you how to make people, think you're capable of such a thing."

"That after all, is the Root of fear. And that will be lesson one, what about you can you use to be Scary?" Khopesh trilled walking around the Primaris who followed with his gaze. "Intimidation is One thing, but to invoke true Fear comes from using what you Have to show you are Capable of inflicting what the fear predicts."

The Night Lord grinned showing off his maw of impressive sharp teeth.

Olly ran his tongue over his own blunt ones. "I don't think will work for me."

"Nonsense!" Khopesh chortled. "Think for a moment, what's something those nice chompers can do that mine can't?"

Olly seemed lost for a moment, before Khopesh sighed and pointed to the pouch he'd seen the Primaris store his rock snacks in. Olly grabs out one of his snacking rocks to show him, still a little confused.

"...I can...eat rocks??" Olly replied. "So can many others??"

"Yes! And do you know how Wild that is to witness??" Khopesh replied with a disbelieving laugh. "Just imagine it! Getting into your targets space, looking over them with your impressive height and Then!"

Oh right, one of the more minor differences between Primaris and First Borns, which while both of them can consume normally inedible to base line human items, Primaris marines have stronger bones, which include dental ones as well.

Khopesh prompted with a flourish. "You rip a chunk of rock from your environment, doesn't matter what or where just as long as you can chew it, and Bite it in Half right in Front of them!"

Olly listens and nods to what Khopesh is saying with a serious expression on his face. He looks around for a piece of rock that would look impressive enough.

"The first things their minds will go to is 'Gee what if that rock was my skull', better bother someone else." Khopesh elaborates, "and of course there are the more subtle ways to invoke fear but we'll get to those later."

"Oh," Olly says, "That's good to know. Thanks Khopesh!"

He looks around and then easily rips up a large chunk of rock, "Like this?"

And he turns to look over at Khopesh with the big chunk of rock and takes a few bite out of it. Making sure his expression was stern-neutral as he did so.

"Oh! This rock is rather- tasty," Olly says happily, breaking out of character, "And the texture is quite nice."

"… I shouldn't say that to the person I'm trying to intimidate, right?" Olly says a little sheepishly. He says after a moment or two of eating the moss covered rock.

"That will help with people thinking you are intimidating if you don't talk about the flavor and texture of the rock you are eating, yes." Khopesh says with a laugh.

Bullying is something that can happen between astartes some times, it happens and it sucks. But- Olly's doing what he can to fix it himself and warn other potential victims of bullying. If he wants more help, he hopes that Olly knows that he can come to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What did you want to talk about?" Kerubiel asks Olly as he looks at his fellow Primaris marine curiously.

"Oh- so A couple of Scout Space wolves bullied me earlier today." Olly says, "Because the Apothecary in training was upset that Cedric beat the shit out of him for being an asshole. But he didn't go after Ced because he knows Cedric will beat his ass again."

"And they went after you, despite how big you are because your softer," Kerubiel says, "... have you told Cedric yet?"

"Oh... yeah..." Olly says, "As soon as I find a way to phrase it so that Ced doesn't go all Wrath of Dorn on them."

Kerubiel snorts, "ha- oh, I want to be there to see his reaction."

"It's not funny!" Olly says frowning at the Dark Angel, who continues to laugh, "No- but those flea bitten dogs deserve the Karma they'll get for fucking with you."

"I'm hoping telling Ced that I'm taking mean-ness lesson from you, if that's okay, and you want to - you don't have to-" Olly rambles.

"Meanness lessons?" Kerubiel says with a chuckle, a fond smile pulling at his lips. Some might grow offended to what Olly was babbling, but he knew what Olly was really intending to say. "Sure- I can help with that Olly."

"Oh- thanks, Keru!" Olly says.

"Provided you give me the names and descriptions of those to shit heads." Kerubiel continues.

"... You're going to do something to them, aren't you?" Olly says with a frown, "I can fight my own battles."

"Yeah- and they involved an innocent third party," Kerubiel says with a scowl. "We both know what happens when shitty first borns go after Primaris. How Bad it can get, and how fucking little recourse we have."

"That... that was back in M42," Olly says, "The- the First borns- and Cedric and the other Primaris Marines say that... that things are different on Ancient Terra."

"Yeah sure," Kerubiel says rolling his eyes, "Just because their punishments are lighter, don't me that the protections that the First Borns and Terran born Space marines get doesn't mean it applies to us. It never did, not really in M42, why the hell would it be true here?"

Olly goes quiet and wilts a little at that. "... we could have Claude as Khopesh or Anrir about that."

"Eh, if that's necessary, maybe later," Kerubiel says with a shrug, "And Anrir only cares about Claude, not much about the rest of us. Which I get why. Claude can be adorable and he's adopted him. Good on Claude for getting such a fierce mentor."

"Albeit an unstable one," Olly mutters quiet, "... but then again. He's Terran born, and has survived from the Unification wars to After the Heresy. So."

"Holy Stars," Kerubiel swears, "He's old."

"So old." Olly replies.

Kerubiel and Olly are quiet for a moment, it shows just how dangerous he is. An old man surviving as long as he has in the type of career they have. It's rare and means that Anrir is exceptionally dangerous and good at what he does.

Kerubiel teaches him different ways to move and certain phrases to say, also reminds him of certain kinds of situations and the build up for them so he can realize what he's potentially getting set up for before it happens.

"Alright," Kerubiel says, "I think that's enough for now. Cedric and a couple of the others are going to be visiting Atlas and the other wounded Primaris. Good time to go let a whole bunch of the others know about those shit heads."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Olly and Kerubiel are in the section of the med bay were Olivar, Pallius, Atlas, and Cedric are. The ones who are wounded Cedric is fussing over. Ramiel, taking a break from Chaplain training is quietly speaking with Olivar about something.

Jophiel is happily bouncing from person to person, while Catius is working on some paperwork- occasionally talking to the others about this and that.

Claude is helping Cedric- by carrying some medical supplies from the closet to where he needs them put down. Olly drifts over and watches the situation with a small smile on his face.

Atlas and Catius look over at him, "Something on your mind Olly?"

"Huh?" Olly murmurs, "Oh, just have a message to give to Cedric from an Apprentice Apothecary Algret of the space wolves."

Cedric's face shifts a little and he sets down whatever it was that he was holding and came over to Olly. "What did he do?"

"Uh, he says that 'we're even now.'" Olly says to Cedric.

Cedric's face darkens, "Olly. What. Did. He. Do?"

"Him and a friend pushed me into some mud." Olly says, "And dumped a bucket of disgusting smelling goo that hardened and stank. It took me hours to clean my armor of the stench and mud."

"That bastard." Cedric hisses upset.

"Ced," Olly says gently reaching out to try and calm his sometimes over protective brother cousin, "No really harm occurred. I just wanted to let you and everyone else know. Just in case he decides to escalate his behavior."

"What did the others say when you were covered in mud and stench?" Atlas asks.

"Oh well- the space wolves had planned a head and sent a message saying that I had tripped into something." Olly says. "The Sargent is apart of their Renegade war band. So... Even though I have video proof that it wasn't me being clumsy. You know how First Borns tend to react to their Scouts being 'harmless pranksters' to primaris."

"... Have you told anyone else besides us?" Catius asks.

"Just Khopesh, when he asked why I wanted lessons on intimidation." Olly says, "So- I'm working on not being such an... easy target. Sorry about that guys."

Olly knows he can cause his brothers a lot of stress, and he tries not to. He looks down and scuffs his foot on the ground a little self consciously. Not noticing the expressions on the others faces.

"They lied to a superior officer?" Claude asks, as a clarifying question, a frown on his face.

"Yeah," Olly says, "And they wouldn't let me up until I repeated their words back to them. The mud was... they had prepared that involuntary mud bath ahead of time for it to... be as effective as it was."

Cedric growls a little and his hands clench into fists. Olly gives Cedric a hug, that just so happens to also potential restrain his temperamental brother-cousin.

"No permanent damage happened." Olly informs him, informs all of them.

"Cowards," Jophiel says with an angry hiss, "They didn't go after the one that had smacked them around, I'm surprised they didn't go after me or one of the smaller of us."

"The rest of you are either too intimidating, have psyker powers. too wounded, or too loveable," Olly says in a no nonsense tone, he gestures to the ones with special powers, the ones who are more intimidating (and they know who they are), same with those who are still wounded, and the ones who are easily lovable.

He's not jealous, its fact, some brothers and cousins are far more palatable, far more lovable, and easy to love. While others are less lovable, less palatable.

Part of him wondered if he was a Pariah, or hand the genes, even if just a little bit. But- if he did then he'd have had the training for it, or would have been culled. At least he thinks that is what the Magos on Trainers would do.

But no, he's not special, not like how his brothers and cousins are special. The psyker and non psyker ones. They are so clever, so witty, so strong, and only will grow more so as they get older.

He'll just continue to fall behind and stagger like a clumsy ox after them and try not to drag them down. Try not to be too much of a burden.

"Oh- yeah they are Space wolves, didn't want to go after the 'witches' in case you gave them 'witch cooties' or curse them or other such nonsense, I think." Olly says rolling his eyes, "And they... likely thought it dishonorable to go after the wounded. And I was ... in a place for them to grab. So."

Olly shrugs, he's unfortunately used to be used as a 'messenger' of that kind of nature for his brothers and cousins. And as much as it sucks, at least it's him and not one of the others.

It's something he can do as a way to shield the others from... stuff and things. Especially since all of them do so much to help him. Why not return the favor? Besides, even if those First Borns had hurt him, Pain is temporary and it would heal up quickly.

"I've had bullies use me to send messages to others that had a lot worse than being stuck in mud for a bit." Olly says as a reminder, "So really. I'm fine. Cedric. Everyone. And since Algret and his buddy say that 'we're even now' going after him would only... escalate the situation."

"Have you told Captain Ash'val or one of the others?" Claude asks.

"No, why?" Olly asks, "such squabbles between Scouts are to be kept between Scouts. Besides, the First Borns will most likely side with the First Born Scouts, and then I would have to do punishment for being a 'whiny little bitch' who doesn't know his place."

"Who told you that?" Cedric growls.

"Who told me what?" Olly asks.

"Don't play dumb, what you just said," Cedric grounds out.

"Oh, some asshole back in M42," Olly says, "He's not here, so it doesn't matter."

"Olly..." Catius says coming over and giving his brother a hug.

"It's in the past," Olly says simply with a shrug, happily leaning into Catius's hug while he still has his arms around Cedric as he gives big ol' 'please calm down' puppy eyes to Cedric.

It's sometimes really effective. Sometimes it just makes Cedric huff, puff, and even more protectively growly. "Perhaps talking to Captain Ash'val or one of the others might be a good idea. Or big Burders Arnault and Roland."

"Why?" Says Olly tilting his head a little, "the one that got bullied was me. Not you or one of the others they care about. So they won't give a shit."

"Olly!" Jophiel says with gasp.

"What?" Olly says with a confused blink and a head tilt. "The first borns care about you- and the others. Therefor it would upset them if you or the others were the ones that were bullied. But it's me. They don't know me. Not really. so they won't care. It's fine. It make sense."

Olly says with a shrug, "I'm an acquired taste, and most tend to not like me for being, well me. It's fine."

"... Olly." Ramiel says his voice wobbling a little.

"Oh fuck," Olly says, "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"... Yes you did." Catius and Atlas say at the same time.

"Why do you think they wouldn't care?" Cedric asks, a complicated expression on his face.

"Because Roland and Arnault are Black Templars- of course they, understandably, prioritize you- and the other Black Templars over the rest of us." Olly starts, "of course the first born brothers and cousins that have bonded to the other primaris marines more care about them. But I'm just... in the back ground. Tied to you lot tangentially. They don't care about me personally, and that's fine."

"There is no way that they care about me, in any capacity, I haven't got the endearing kind of personality type," He shifts a little, stating all of this very matter of factly, he believes every word he's saying, "Besides- it's great that you all have found such people to help and protect you. I can manage. I have before, I will now. It's easier on Ancient Terra, not as many bastards to have to deal with. I know how annoying and difficult to deal with. I just have one of those easy to bully faces and personalities. Haha."

He's always been rather good at that- getting the ire of others directed onto him and off of the others. It's so hard trying to be good, to not be frustrating or hard to work with.

It's like everyone was given certain socialization lessons and he'd missed those classes somehow. And like everyone else was using a secret set of social rules that they all knew about, but no one would really explain them to him.

All that would happen is he'd get punished for unknowingly breaking those rules and punished for doing something when he had thought it seemed like a reasonable action. When he said or did something that someone else had done, but while they were able to do it, he was scolded for it.

That reminds him of one time, when he'd been a lot younger, back on Mars. When they were doing 'free play' sessions and Olly had asked one of their brother cousins if they wanted to play. The cousin had said that he wanted to play with him later. So he'd went away and had come back to ask that brother cousin a couple of hours later if they wanted to play.

Then that brother cousin had yelled at him, saying that Olly was being rude and that he'd already said that he hadn't wanted to play with Olly and that Olly was being rude.

Much to Olly's horror he'd started to cry a little and had tearfully explained that this was later, that he'd agreed to play with him later and later was now.

That same cousin continued to yell and scold that he didn't actually want to play with Olly at all, But he was merely being polite. That he should just go away. That Olly was far to annoying and intense. To just shut up and go away.

Superior officers didn't like questions, even when Olly wasn't trying to be rude. He just ... didn't understand the assignment he'd been given. That the training he had been given wasn't enough.

He wasn't trying to be rude or question there authority. He just ... wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. So no, he wasn't going to pester the older brothers here.

He was far too annoying. Far to difficult to handle for most. To be honest, he doesn't know why Cedric and the others put up with him when he can be way too much.

At least they are nicer about it and say "Olly shush!" at times. Which is helpful, and lets him know when he's being too talkative or is saying something that could potentially offend someone else or something.

[stardustinthesky]

The truth.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

pygmalion and galatea for aroace people

you should tell your friends what I look like, riz gukgak.

[yuridovewing]

back to leafpool and squirrelflight though… it really cant be emphasized enough how WEIRD it was that their relationship was not the emotional core of the “squirrelflight’s hope”, and when it did come up between the prologue and leafpool’s death, there was an undercurrent of “ough things are weirddddddd their relationship is so fracturedddd” that never quite gets resolved? and then theres the bit in avos that says that alderpaw never knew leafpool because she never visited her sister in the den? whats going on there??? erins you cant be THAT averse to writing positive relationships now, can you?

[cheeseknives]

Yes....

...why are you looking at me like that though...

[franeridan]

thinking again about how in trigun 98 they had nick kill someone with the face of a child posing as an orphan for vash, and how in tristamp they had him kill a child in the body of a monster who had no choice in what had been done to him, and how instead in trimax nick for vash kills a man who'd approached vash for a death match, who'd demanded to either kill or be killed, a man nick had given vash a fair chance to fight and win against and who nick would have left alone hadn't said man attacked vash when his back was turned after the duel was over and done with, a man who'd been one step from possibly seriously harming vash hadn't nick stepped in. and about how after in all three versions vash yells at nick for it, but only in trimax nick tells vash that he's lucky he's there to play the devil for him so that he can stay a saint, and only in trimax in the arc right after vash ends up thanking nick for killing for him and protecting his home when vash couldn't because of his own morals, and only in trimax in the end when nick isn't there to play the bad guy for vash he ends up being right, and vash ends up having to dirty his hands himself to protect what he loves - while both in 98 and for now tristamp vash stays a saint until the end, and that fight they have ends in itself, and the only lesson it leaves you as a viewer is that nick is jaded enough to kill a child

[tallest-tiptoes]

this episode was good, great even. then it turned sour really fast.

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

forever mad about how dirty they did aveline from act 2 onward