#I didn't know I could do things this long.

[navybrat817]

Cooking Together

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky asks you to cook a meal with him.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, longing, pining, canon divergent neighbor AU, flirting of sorts, mention of HYDRA, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Short and sweet for @stellar-solar-flare’s Starry Winter Sky Event! I went with cooking together and Neighbor AU as a small expansion of this nonsense. February has had some lingering January energy, and I hope you enjoy what I was able to write! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If you asked Bucky if he thought he was a good cook, he’d say he was decent. He retained some of what his mom taught him many years ago and he carefully followed recipes once he was completely free of HYDRA. It was admittedly a bit of a rough go at first. Being able to choose what he could eat was a foreign concept after he didn't have the choice for so long. It got better each day. Every single meal he got to reclaim a piece of himself by making the choice of what he did and didn’t want.

Until today, he always cooked alone.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” you smiled, graciously accepting the apron he handed you.

Bucky had moved into the building a few months ago and you lived across the hall. As far as neighbors went, you were the best. Since day one, you always greeted him with a smile and a kind word. You never played your music too loud or disturbed anyone. Alpine adored you, which told him everything he needed to know since she was the best judge of character. And you never once objected to looking out for her when he had to leave for a mission.

Out of paranoia, he left harmless little “traps” to see if you'd snoop through anything the very first time you went over. Nothing that would hurt you or draw your attention, of course, but something that would let him know if anyone tampered with anything. You didn't. You were a genuinely good and respectful person, and that made him trust you more.

“Thanks for accepting the invitation. And allow me,” he offered, stepping behind you to help you tie it. His fingers lingered on the fabric and he took the moment to inhale your sweet scent before he stepped away. He didn't want to be a creep. “And it’s the least I could do since you offered to watch Alpine. Again.”

“I love watching her. She’s wonderful.”

The photos you sent were something he always looked forward to when he was away. Some of the captions you added made him laugh and smile. His favorite was a selfie you took with Alpine’s cheek against yours. He saved it as “my girls”, which you weren’t aware of.

Because you technically weren’t his girl.

“Well, she adores you,” Bucky smiled. He adored you, too. It stunned him when he found out you were single, and he was selfishly thankful for that. 

“I’ll have to get her another toy,” you said, your lips curling in a small smile. “If that’s okay with you.”

He laughed, a warm and easy sound. “Between the two of us, she’s spoiled rotten and she wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He never expected to be a cat dad, but life surprised him. In fact, it also surprised him that Alpine wasn’t camping out nearby or brushing against one of your legs. She was a smart cat and likely somehow sensed that he wanted alone time with you.

“Well, she deserves it,” you winked before things went quiet.

One of the nice things about hanging out with you was that he didn't mind any bouts of silence. They didn’t feel awkward or tense. In those quiet moments and stolen glances he felt like he had the best conversations with you. He was happy and felt safe being in the same space as you.

“You know,” Bucky began as he set the ingredients on the counter. He lucked out by having a decent sized kitchen since he took up a lot of space. “If I was a better neighbor, I would've just cooked a meal for you while you relaxed.”

It felt romantic for the two of you to cook together, but you weren't together and now he felt like an idiot. A gentleman would've made you a meal and pampered you. Or take you out for a nice meal. He hadn’t dressed up, opting for his jeans and a trademark Henley while you wore a sundress that had his mind racing with both sweet and filthy images. He didn't have flowers for you either.

His “game”, as Sam would say, was rusty.

“You're a great neighbor, Bucky. The best neighbor I’ve had,” you defended. He tried to be a good neighbor and person. A minor way to make up for some of his forced wrongdoings. “And cooking something together is fun! We could even try something at my place next week if you'd like.”

Bucky almost knocked the salt over, his eyes wide. “Really?” You were inviting him over to do this again?

“Yeah, really,” you replied, taking a moment to scan the simple recipe in the cookbook. You always had the cutest expression when you concentrated on something, and he didn’t want to choose something too difficult for the first meal. “We can take turns picking things out to try and trade off cooking at your place and mine. You can even bring Alpine over if you want.”

He suddenly had the image of you in his arms, dancing around the kitchen as you both waited for a meal in the oven to cook. Soft music, low lighting, his hands on your hips, and a tender smile on your face. Stealing a gentle kiss and keeping his eyes open only for a moment so he could see for himself that it wasn't a dream.

“Yeah,” he breathed, pulling his hair back in a ponytail and washing his hands to distract himself from his thoughts. “I’d really like that.”

“Great,” you exhaled. His heart beat faster when he caught you staring. He liked to pretend the look in your eyes was longing. “Sorry. You just…” you cleared your throat and gestured to his head. “You have really nice hair.”

The compliment had his heart racing even faster. “I have nice hair?” he asked. Your fingers would feel amazing in his hair.

You ducked your head for a moment before you met his gaze with a soft smile. “Yeah, you do.”

“Thanks,” he smiled back, his shoulder brushing yours when he stood beside you. Electricity lightly cracked between you. Did you feel it, too? “Um, I peeled the carrots before you got here. Would you like to cut them?”

“Oh, I think you’re better with a knife than I am,” you giggled.

He puffed his chest out and twirled the knife he selected in his hand without thinking about it. Part of him was showing off because, well, he wanted you to stare again. “How about I help you?”

“Help me? How?” you asked.

“Here.” He placed the knife in your hand and stood behind you once he had the carrots on the cutting board. “I’m going to preface this by saying I’m far from an expert, but I usually cut them into decent sized pieces before I dice them.”

“I trust your judgement,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. Your faces were close enough that he could kiss you if he leaned in a fraction. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t take what you didn’t offer.

Carefully placing his hands over yours once you faced forward, he felt that electricity crackle again as he helped guide you. He angled his hips so he didn’t press against you, but still stayed close. “See? You’re a natural,” he whispered against your ear when you made the first cut through the vegetable.

He heard the hitch in your breath and how your blood rushed faster in your veins. He felt your skin warm under his touch as you cut the next piece. He also caught the slight tremble that went through your frame when his grip tightened, but he didn’t sense any fear. He hadn't detected any sort of fear or disgust since he came into your life.

But what he sensed in this very moment was excitement.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you whispered back. The way you spoke his name was breathy, beautiful, and he longed to hear that again. “You’re a great teacher.”

“I’m not,” he said, thankful your back was to him so you wouldn’t see the pink that tinted his cheeks. “But I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, you are,” you stated, tempting him to turn your head toward him to kiss you. If he did that and you stabbed him, he wouldn’t blame you or hold it against you. “And Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“I really am glad you invited me over,” you said.

He stopped himself from putting his face in the crook of your neck. “I am, too,” he said, smiling to himself as he helped you finish up. “And now that you’ve mastered the carrots, we can chop the onions.”

“Onions? Oh, no,” you groaned playfully.

As the sound of both of you laughing a second later filled the room, Bucky was glad he went with his gut and asked for you two to cook together.

And maybe before the night was over, he’d ask you out on a date and prove to himself that his game wasn't completely hopeless.

I wonder just how he'll ask you out! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[kiragecko]

I decided to do this for the Batfamily. (Preboot version, because I disagree with DC's modern decisions.)

If the Batfam were queer, how would they talk about it?

Dick - awkward and tentative. No clue when he picked up the terminology he's using, but it's probably pretty general/balanced¹. He's not going to be using microlabels, but may have done a reasonable amount of research on whatever term he's accepted. Possibly the most ashamed out of everyone? Look, people haven't been very gentle with him about his romantic, sexual, or personal choices. And he's internalized that. I could see him EVENTUALLY being comfortably open about his identity, but that would be a long journey.

Babs - only talks to romantic partners, if she can help it. Clinical. Probably also prickly. Maybe dismissive. More focused on how it will affect their relationship than on how it affects her, or on specific terms. But also the most likely to explain the split attraction model, or pull up a graph? Possibly she'd shift tactics based on what her partner was comfortable with. Probably it would be to tactics her partner was LESS comfortable with? Babs, make things easier for yourself!

Jason - What flavour of fanon are we using here? Or canon? Using slurs that the people he grew up used for themselves could be accurate. Reading up on all the latest terminology so he can support the street kids seems in character for some versions. (He sounds like he's reading from a brochure, but like he's a counsellor reading from a brochure for your benefit!) Not having thought about it at all because he's been 'somewhat' distracted for most of his life seems VERY likely! Jason contains multitudes.

Tim - avoiding this conversation at all costs. Refuses to use labels. Might describe his experience, awkwardly, if he needed to, but would get distressed if you tried to give it a name. He might be able to accept BEING some flavour of queer, but openly talking about it in ways people can use against him? That might affect social standing and job opportunities? That might disappoint authority figures? No. Most likely to use a fake identity to explore. Has almost certainly done all the research, KNOWS current terminology, and will use it for other people. Just don't suggest he applies it to himself.

Steph - Would probably get extremely attached to language when first accepting it. Maybe to the point of policing things a bit. Because she's defensive and has spent her whole life being policed and judged! MIGHT sound like she was reading out of a college brochure. Possibly DID read it out of a college brochure!

Cass - summarizes complex topics into a 2 or 3 word sentence, and if you aren't following along, that's on YOU. Might like listening to someone else explain their extremely nuanced identity. Might be impatient. It's a toss-up, depending on how obvious she thinks things are, how much you seem to be overcomplicating it, and how much she's picking up from HOW you're saying it. I hope she figures herself out before she learns TOO much terminology, because later Cass respected words a bit too highly, and I want her to be able to understand the fluidity of self without thinking it NEEDS boxes.

Damian - okay, preteen Damian doesn't WANT to know about any of this, thank you. Many preteens do! Damian does not. Damian wants to join in on every rape and hate crime investigation, and also thinks kissing is gross. Wrangling and protecting Damian is a challenge. Older Damian would probably use microlabels, if any applied. (And he felt safe saying anything.) Accuracy is always to be desired! Also, they fit his worldview of exceptionality and isolation.

Duke - I think he'd be pretty comfortable with general, broadly understood, terminology. But he might struggle if that stuff didn't fit. Feeling compelled to explain the nuances of self seems like something he'd find really uncomfortable? So I can see him casually talking about himself if it was easy to talk about, but struggling to be open otherwise. Also, he might get pretty stuck on not being SURE about his identity. How can he talk about it if he might be wrong?? (Tim and Dick might struggle in a similar way, but it would be less obvious because of their other issues.)

Bruce - Extremely likely to used old-fashioned or clinical language, especially if it lets him sound like he's reading out of a psychology text-book. Most likely to accept the language without internalizing the identity. (It might be accurate, but that doesn't mean he needs to ACT on it.) Also most likely to have accept-ED some term 25 years ago and then just never brought it up again or acknowledged it in any way.

Alfred - wouldn't talk about it at all. Relationships are private. If it was important to do so, would use euphemisms like 'close to', 'cared for', 'did a small amount of exploration', etc.

-

¹ I kind of think of modern queer identities coming in 3 broad categories:

general - uses language like 'queer', 'LGBT', 'nonbinary' - commonly understood umbrella terms. Prioritizes fluidity of identity and connection with community over precise description

balanced - prioritizes connection with people of similar experiences, uses broad subcategories like 'gay', and 'trans', or combines broad terms together to suggest more precision, like 'nonbinary lesbian'.

microlabels - breaks down identities into more precise subsets like 'greyace', 'fem-aligned androgyne', 'genderfae', etc. Precise understanding of self prioritized over other people's understanding or connection.

'Microlabels' as shorthand is often used to mock people, so I thought it helpful to explain where I'm coming from.

he would not fucking say that but it’s he would not fucking talk about his queer identity like he was reading out of a college campus lgbt center brochure

[heliosunny]

I've read a manhwa with the plot of MC being in a marriage of convenience with the ML in their first life and they work hard to make it work/feel like an actual marriage but the guy didn't give it much thought so they died and in their second life, the MC just decided to not focus on the guy but that somehow attracted the guy's attention

So that premise with Mydei (or Phainon, I just thought it suited Mydei more) where in reader's first life they had loved him and dedicated their whole being to him but they end up dying so in their second life they were more confrontational and willing to potentially piss off Mydei but that just had the opposite effect on him.

Bonus I guess if he remembers what reader did after a certain time and makes him fall harder (or go full on yan route idm)

Yandere!Mydei x Reader

[Artist]

You had loved him once.

It was a quiet, steady love, the kind built on careful devotion rather than reckless passion. A love that manifested in the way you always reached for his hand in public, in the way you made him pomegranate juice exactly as he liked it, in the way you handled every social obligation so he wouldn’t have to. A love that, despite being arranged, had been genuine on your part.

Mydei, however, had never given you much thought.

Your marriage had been one of convenience, a political arrangement that benefited both parties, nothing more. You knew that. You had known it from the start. But knowing didn’t stop you from hoping, didn’t stop you from trying to be someone he could come to love.

Yet you had tried.

You learned his preferences. You shielded him from trivial nuisances. You defended him against enemies in court. You ensured his home was warm when he returned, even if he never cared whether you were there waiting or not. You gave him everything you had to offer, even as your own needs went unnoticed, unfulfilled.

And then, one day, you died.

It was an illness, slow but inevitable. The kind that ate away at you little by little until there was nothing left to give. You had fought to stay by his side, to live long enough for him to notice you, to care. But as you lay on your deathbed, your body weak, your breath shallow, Mydei had stood beside you with the same unreadable expression he always wore.

“It’s unfortunate” he had said, his voice calm. “But there’s nothing to be done.”

He hadn’t held your hand. Hadn’t begged you to stay. Hadn’t even asked if you were afraid. And so you died, alone in a marriage that had never truly been shared.

But then, against all reason, you awoke again.

A second life. A second chance.

And this time, you wouldn’t waste it on him.

----

The first time you met Mydei again in your new life, he had the same detached expression, but this time, you weren’t the same.

“Oh. It’s you.” he said, mildly surprised.

You stared at him, deadpan. “Tragic, isn’t it?”

He blinked at you, clearly taken aback. In your past life, you would have smiled softly, eager to please. Now, you met his gaze with all the warmth of an ice sculpture.

“You seem different.” he noted, as though observing the weather.

“Yes, well, dying does that to a person.” You crossed your arms. “But don’t worry, I’m not here to cater to your every whim anymore. I have better things to do.”

His brow furrowed slightly, a reaction so subtle you might have missed it if you hadn’t known him so well. It was funny. For the first time, Mydei found himself unsure of how to proceed.

Days turned to weeks, and you continued to avoid him as much as possible. When you couldn’t, you treated him with polite indifference.

“Here, I brought you tea.”

Mydei raised a brow. “Tea?”

“I just grabbed the first thing I saw.” You sipped your own drink with a smirk, watching as he hesitated before taking a sip. No more pomegranate juice, but you made no move to correct it. Let him suffer.

He gave you a long, unreadable look, then quietly finished the tea anyway.

You weren’t sure when it started, but Mydei began seeking you out more often. Not for anything important, just small, meaningless interactions that, in your first life, he would have ignored entirely.

“You’re busy” he observed one day, watching you pour over books in the library.

“You’re perceptive” you deadpanned, not looking up.

“I can help.”

You finally met his gaze, incredulous. “You? Help? With something that doesn’t benefit you?”

“I’m capable of generosity” he replied smoothly.

You scoffed. “Sure. And I’m the Empress of the Universe.”

To your growing unease, Mydei only chuckled, as if thoroughly enjoying the challenge you presented. If he had ignored your love in your past life, he now seemed intent on prying into your every thought in this one.

You weren’t sure which was worse.

What made it all the more complicated was that Mydei had no idea you had already lived and died once before. To him, this was just the first time you had ever looked at him with anything less than quiet admiration. And while he couldn’t understand what had changed, he was undeniably intrigued.

-----

The third prince’s birthday celebration was an unavoidable event. No matter how much you wanted to stay far away from Mydei, you were both expected to attend.

Dressed in formal attire, you entered the grand hall, carefully ignoring Mydei’s presence beside you.

As expected, the noble ladies flocked to him almost immediately, their voices sickly sweet.

“Mydei, you look as composed as ever” one simpered, lightly touching his sleeve. “Surely you must save a dance for me?”

“And me as well” another chimed in. “It’s not often we get to see you at these gatherings.”

You sipped your drink and turned away, uninterested.

Mydei, however, seemed less inclined to entertain them. His gaze flickered to you, watching your utter lack of reaction.

“You’re ignoring me” he murmured, stepping closer.

You didn’t even glance at him. “Congratulations, you’re learning.”

His lips twitched slightly, as if amused. “Are you jealous?”

You turned to him at last, offering the driest look you could muster. “If I had a single grain of salt for every second I cared, I wouldn’t even be able to season a meal.”

He chuckled. And you had the distinct feeling Mydei wasn’t going to let you ignore him forever.

Sensing your chance to leave, you excused yourself quietly and slipped away. You navigated through the bustling crowd until you reached the gardens, where the young third prince stood alone, watching the lanterns flicker above. You wished him a happy birthday, exchanged brief pleasantries before excusing yourself, intent on leaving before anyone noticed. Unbeknownst to you, Mydei had followed—watching from the shadows as you spoke to the young prince with a warmth you had never once given him in this lifetime.

The door shut behind you with a quiet click as you stepped into your quarters, letting out a sigh of relief. The evening had been long. You had done your part, made an appearance, and now you could finally shed the pretense of civility and rest.

You barely had time to unfasten the heavy jewelry weighing on your ears before there was a knock at the door. Your brows furrowed. It was late. Too late for someone to be calling on you unless it was urgent.

Still, you already had a sinking feeling about who it was.

“Enter” you called, bracing yourself.

The door opened, and sure enough, Mydei stepped inside. His usually pristine attire was slightly disheveled, his coat unbuttoned at the collar. But what truly caught your attention was the way he moved, slower, more deliberate, as if something was weighing on him.

He had never been one to drink, and yet, something about him seemed... off.

You sighed. “It’s late, Mydei.”

“You left early” he countered, shutting the door behind him. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it—something quiet and simmering beneath the surface. “Without informing me.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to retire for the night” you replied dryly, turning away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“I saw you” Mydei interrupted.

You stilled. “Saw me?”

“With the third prince” he clarified, stepping closer. “In the gardens. You seemed… close.”

You exhaled through your nose. “He’s a child, Mydei. I was wishing him a happy birthday.”

“And yet, you looked at him with more warmth than you’ve ever spared me.”

You turned to face him then, brows arching. “Are you jealous?”

Mydei didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied you. He took another step forward, invading your space, forcing you to tilt your head slightly to maintain eye contact.

“Would it matter if I was?” he asked at last.

You scoffed, stepping back. “No. Because it wouldn’t change anything.”

Mydei was a man of control. To be thrown off balance, to be met with resistance where he once found compliance, was undoubtedly foreign to him.

Good. Let him feel what you had felt all those years.

You turned away, signaling the conversation was over. “Go sleep, Mydei. We have nothing more to discuss.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, finally, he let out a quiet chuckle, a sound devoid of humor. “You truly are different now.”

You didn’t respond. Didn’t look back.

Because if you did, you might have noticed the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides. And you might have realized that Mydei was far from willing to let things be.

-----

Over the next few days, Mydei seemed to have an unusual amount of free time. His duties, which once kept him busy, were now seemingly cast aside. Wherever you went, he was there.

It started subtly: walking in step with you through the halls, his presence a quiet shadow. Then it grew bolder. Sitting beside you at meals, his knee brushing against yours and never pulling away. Standing behind you, fingertips grazing the small of your back under the guise of guiding you forward.

You would have ignored it, written it off as coincidence—if not for the way his touch lingered. The way he reached for your hand absentmindedly, as if it were second nature.

One evening, as you sat by the window, lost in thought, you felt it again, his hand, warm and steady, against your shoulder. A familiar presence, yet wholly unfamiliar in its intent.

“You’ve been avoiding me” Mydei murmured.

“I’ve been living my life” you corrected, not looking up.

His fingers curled slightly, almost as if to pull you closer, but he hesitated. “And yet, somehow, I find myself a part of it more than before.”

You turned to him then, meeting his gaze directly. “Perhaps you should ask yourself why that is.”

A smirk ghosted his lips, though his eyes held something heavier. “Oh, I have.”

You had tolerated it long enough. Mydei’s constant presence, his lingering touches, the way he hovered around you as if he had never been indifferent.

The final straw came when he followed you into the private study, an intimate space he had never once stepped foot in before. You slammed the book you were holding onto the table and turned to face him, irritation burning in your chest.

"Enough!" Your voice was firm, unwavering. "What exactly do you want from me, Mydei?"

He arched a brow, unfazed. "I would think that’s obvious."

You scoffed. "Obvious? You ignored me for years, treated our marriage as a mere obligation, and now—now you cling to my side like a shadow. Why?" Your breath hitched slightly, but you pushed forward. "Is it because I no longer chase after you? Because I finally see this marriage for what it is?"

A flicker of something passed through his eyes—something unreadable. He took a step closer, but you raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"No" you said sharply. "No more. This ends now. I want a divorce."

For the first time since his sudden shift in behavior, Mydei’s expression darkened. "You don’t mean that."

"I do." You met his gaze head-on. "I refuse to stay shackled in a marriage that was never real."

He exhaled slowly, as if reining himself in. "And what makes you think I'll allow it?"

Your fingers clenched into fists. "Because it’s not your decision to make."

"You truly have changed."

You didn’t back down. "And I intend to keep it that way."

His eyes lingered on you, calculating, something darker stirring beneath the surface. Then, as if making a silent decision, he took another step forward.

"Then let's see how far you’re willing to go" he murmured.

-----

Determined to push him into agreeing, you invited Duke Laurent, a respected noble and someone with a clear interest in you, to visit. If Mydei would not agree to divorce out of reason, perhaps jealousy would make him let go.

Just as you began conversing with the duke, Mydei’s arm suddenly snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You stiffened at the public display of intimacy, something he had never once shown before. The duke’s expression remained polite, though there was clear tension in the air.

Mydei leaned in, his lips brushing dangerously close to your ear. "You think bringing another man here will make me release you?"

He turned his gaze to the duke, his expression composed but lethal. "You see, we are still very much married."

Before you could shove him away, he tilted your chin up and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the corner of your lips, just enough to make the moment scandalous.

"Mydei—" You hissed, shoving at his chest, but his grip remained firm.

Then came his final blow, spoken with a smirk against your skin. "If you truly wish to fulfill the divorce, then surely, as tradition dictates, our marriage must bear an heir first. Otherwise, it would be incomplete."

The audacity of it, the sheer arrogance—

Fury surged through you. Without thinking, you leaned in and bit his shoulder, hard enough to make him tense, hard enough to leave a mark through his fine fabric. Just hoping it'll make him let you go. He inhaled sharply, but instead of anger, something else flickered in his gaze. Interest.

His grip on you tightened, fingers pressing into your waist. "How intriguing" he murmured, almost amused. "You’re becoming more and more fascinating."

You could only glare, breathless with anger, as he leaned in even closer. "I’ve decided—I shall never let you alone."

That night, Mydei made his final decision.

You found yourself restless, pacing in your chambers, feeling trapped in a game you never agreed to play. The door creaked open, and you didn’t need to turn to know it was him.

"Leave!" you ordered without looking up.

Instead, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. "You asked for a divorce. I gave you my terms," he said smoothly. "But I have a better idea."

You turned, narrowing your eyes. "I don't care for your ideas, Mydei. I want my freedom."

"And I want you," he countered effortlessly, closing the distance between you. "So, it seems we are at an impasse."

He reached out, tracing a hand over your wrist. "You see, I’ve realized something," he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. "I cannot let you go."

"Then you will have to learn."

"No" he whispered, leaning in "I will simply ensure that you never wish to leave."

This was no longer a battle of marriage or freedom.

This was war.

Then, his voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "If you try to run, I will find you. If you seek another, I will ruin them. And if you deny me..." His fingers trailed over your throat, "I will make sure you have nowhere to go but back to me."

"You wouldn’t dare."

"Wouldn’t I?" The smirk on his face only triggered you more. "You forget, my dear, I am not a man who lets go of what is his. And you? You belong to me."

A slow, measured pause before he added, "So fight me if you must. Hate me, struggle, scream. But in the end, you will always return to me. I will make sure of it."

---

Another day passed. Nothing happened. Until-

You were sitting stiffly in your chambers, the weight of Mydei’s last words still pressing against your mind.

Mydei entered, once again without your consent.

A goblet sat before you, filled with deep crimson liquid—the rich, unmistakable hue of pomegranate juice. It was his favorite, something he drank often, something he had tried countless times to get you to enjoy.

“I had the servants prepare this just for you” Mydei said smoothly, swirling the liquid in his own goblet. “It would be such a shame if you ignored my gift.”

You hesitated, glancing at the drink. Something about his tone made you wary, but refusing would only stretch this moment further. You reached for the goblet, only for Mydei to intercept, his fingers ghosting over yours as he picked it up himself.

“Let me.”

His hand cupped your chin, tilting your head slightly. Before you could react, the cool rim of the goblet pressed against your lips, the sweet aroma of pomegranate thick in the air. The moment the liquid touched your tongue, warmth flooded through your body. A strange, numbing sensation curled through your veins, heavy and inescapable. Your limbs felt sluggish, the world turning soft around the edges.

Your breath hitched as your body betrayed you, sinking against the silk sheets.

Through your hazy vision, you saw Mydei standing by the door, watching. His expression was unreadable, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Rest well, my dear”

But he didn’t leave.

Instead, he moved closer, his fingers brushing against your cheek before he slid into the bed beside you. His arms wrapped around you, firm yet deceptively gentle, caging you against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, and in your hazy state, resistance felt… unnecessary.

“You’ll understand soon” he whispered, his breath fanning against your ear. “You don’t need to fight anymore. Just listen to me.”

Your thoughts wavered, slipping further into a fog. Your body felt too heavy to move, your mind too sluggish to argue. His presence, once suffocating, now felt… inevitable.

Through the night, he held you close, his grip never loosening. Each time your thoughts stirred, his voice was there, murmuring soft reassurances, reinforcing his presence, reminding you he was always there.

By the time morning light crept through the curtains, your mind was no longer as sharp as before. The idea of pulling away seemed distant, unnecessary.

He was still here.

His arms remained locked around you, as if this was how it had always been. His breath, slow and even, ghosted against the side of your neck, warm yet oppressive.

“Awake already?” His voice was low, thick with the drowsiness of someone who had slept well.

You swallowed, trying to shift, only to realize just how intimately entangled the two of you were. One of his legs had hooked over yours, anchoring you beneath the weight of him. His fingers, idly tracing over the fabric of your nightclothes, stopped just at your wrist, where his hold subtly tightened.

You were trapped.

“I need to get up” you muttered, voice still hoarse from sleep.

Mydei didn’t loosen his grip. If anything, his arms curled around you more securely, pressing you deeper against his chest. “You don’t, actually,” he murmured. “Stay.”

Something in his voice made your stomach twist. There was no plea, no request, just the quiet certainty of a man who had already decided what would happen.

“I have things to do” you tried again, frustration slipping into your tone. “You can’t just—”

“Can’t I?” Mydei interrupted lazily, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you properly. His hair was slightly tousled, falling over sharp eyes that gleamed with something unreadable. “You haven’t been well. I think it’s best if you rest today.”

“I feel fine” you lied, pushing against his chest.

He caught your wrist easily, his thumb pressing against the rapid beat of your pulse. “Do you?” His smile was slow, knowing. “You still look dazed. You’re warm. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were falling ill.”

Mydei had always been perceptive, dangerously so. And in this moment, with your thoughts still sluggish, you knew you were at a disadvantage.

“Mydei,” you tried to keep your voice steady, “what did you do?”

His grip on your wrist didn’t waver, but his expression softened into something almost… fond.

“I’ve merely helped you see things clearly.” His fingers traced over your knuckles before he lifted your hand, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your palm. His lips curved against your skin. “You always try to run. You make things so difficult for yourself.”

“You drugged me.”

Mydei sighed, tilting his head as if mildly disappointed. “It was just a little something to help you relax. To stop you from making rash decisions.” He leaned in closer, his nose grazing against your cheek before his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “You wouldn’t want to make any rash decisions, would you?”

A surge of unease coursed through you, your body screaming to move—to fight. But your limbs still felt leaden, and Mydei knew it. He had planned for it.

“I thought we had an agreement” you gritted out. “You can’t keep me here like this.”

“What do you mean by 'keep you'? You’re mine, my dear. You always have been.”

Your breath hitched as he finally released your wrist—only to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him properly.

“You’ll understand soon enough.”

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

CRUSH- D.GRAYSON

pairing: richboy! dick grayson x girly! innocent!fem! reader

part one here!

word count: 2.7k

summary: its the morning after your prince charming had swooped you off your feet, and somehow- dicks secret superpower is diminishing hangovers, by taking care of you.

warnings: sexual thoughts/ implications, kissing/ slight make-out session, pet names, mentions of masturbation, size kink implied, swearing, dick asks reader out on her first date and kinda acts like a sugar daddy lol, he's kinda a soft dom in a way...

Your head felt like a truck had run over it.

As if you had been tossed on the road, and a Ford F150 had slowly taken its time driving its tires over your head.

You woke up, still in your clothes from the night before, makeup smudged and jewellery tangled. Groaning, you slowly pulled each limb out of bed, feeling like a jello.

The clock hands ticked just past ten thirty, but it felt like you had got an hour of sleep, tops.

You were in definite need of a nap today, you thought to yourself as you slowly rocked up to your feet, tugging off your clothes from the previous night.

The fact you had worn outdoor club clothes in your bed… yeah, you’d need to wash your sheets today too.

You let the morning light that peaked through your thin curtains illuminate the path to your dresser, where you tugged on a new pair of panties and an oversized band tee. Kicking past skirts and thongs, you placed your head in your hands before you managed the courage to go out and brave the bathroom.

And the kitchen. But the thought of greasy bacon and eggs made you excited, just a little.

You creaked open your door, starting to walk to the bathroom before stopping in your tracks.

Oh fuck.

Dick Grayson lay sprawled on the couch, blanket covering practically nothing as he snoozed. His legs were spread, one out on the floor, the other over the arm of the couch.

And his abs… Oh god.

Here was this man- completely sprawled out in your living room- that you had completely forgotten about him staying- mind you. You didn't know why he stayed- the couch clearly was not suited for him- but you were glad he did.

You just needed to get things ready before he woke. And put pants on.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck…” you mumbled, feet pattering on the hardwood as you scurried to the bathroom.

What you didn't know of course, was the man was already awake- and had been for a while. He had learned to “pretend sleep”, so his roommates would leave him alone when they came home and he was in the living room.

You didn't even let the water warm up before you were scrubbing at your face frantically, like a mad woman before trying to fix your bedhead.

Soon he’d be awake, and you wanted to make him breakfast in bed (on the couch? You didn't know what the hell to call it).

It was the least you could do for him, for taking care of you. He was so sweet. It made your heart flutter, remembering how kind he was to you last night. And here he was on your uncomfortable ass sofa!

A true gentleman indeed.

You frantically rushed to the kitchen, seeing his body still splayed out as you darted to the kitchen, trying your best to be quiet.

“Fuck fuck okay make coffee, make him coffee and find eggs…” you whispered to yourself, making him smirk to himself. He cracked an eye open, shifting so he rested his head over the sofa, watching you silently.

You were in your own little world, trying to reach for a mug on the highest shelf.

“Need any help with that bun?”

You jumped, whipping around to face where he rested his arms and head over the couch back- a smirk on his face.

“You scared me! How long have you been awake for? I’m so sorry if I was loud-”

“A while. You werent loud sweetheart. Dont need to get yourself all worried about me, okay?”

He stood with a stretch, ruminging around on the ground before he found his target- tugging on his pants from last night. You quickly averted your gaze- covering your eyes with a hand as he tugged them on, pulling your fingers apart just a peak to try and get a glance.

You felt guilty but- oh well. You already saw him when he was “sleeping”. 

Heat spread throughout your body as he made his way over to you, trapping you in against the countertop- facing his chest as he reached up with ease to grab the mug you were after. You were frozen in place for what felt like forever, as if you were a statue, just marveling at the sight of him.

“T-thanks.” you managed to mutter out as he handed you the mug, cocky grin plastered across his face- knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

Oh but wait! Things get better! Your inner monologue shouted at you as his hand reached up to brush a stray eyelash of your cheek, rough thumb so gentle across your skin.

“You feeling okay?” he asked gently, knowing last night was… something.

“I’m okay. I have this throbbing in my head- like a drum. S’annoying.”

He snorted, grabbing another mug for himself.

“Yeah that’ll do it. Coffee will fix you up.”

“Do you not have a headache?” you asked, suddenly broken from your trance as he neared the coffee machine, reminding you of your duties before he decided to flip flop your heart around.

“Me? You’re cute.”

You frowned, forehead lines crinkling in a way that made him swoon. You were so adorable when you frowned. Like a little bunny, crinkling its nose.

“Thats not fair.”

“Sweetheart, one of us here is a lightweight, and one of us here is not. Thats the way it goes. Plus, I’m a lot bigger then you.”

You raised your eyebrow, flicking on the machine, the hot liquid beginning to trickle out into his mug.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm. And stronger too.”

You swallowed, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller, and smaller. You’re apartment wasnt exactly a penthouse suite, but it wasnt super small either. Yet, your kitchen felt like it was crammed with him in it, the room turning hot, your cheeks filled with heat.

“I-I think your coffee is done Dickie.” you murmered, watching as he reached right past you, grabbing the cup and taking a sip.

He drank it black. Of course.

Whistling a little tune as he opened your fridge, craining down to dig around in your fridge, as if he had lived here for years. “Do you want some fruit?” he asked, pulling out a container of berries, and a carton of eggs.

“Please. God I need a strawberry in my system, or I’m gonna crash out.”

“What- you haven't already?”

You lunged at his remark, wacking his bicep lightly, making him laugh. “Make me eggs or I’ll crash out even more.” you smiled, snagging the milk out of the fridge door to pour in your own coffee, adding some sugar.

Popular opposites, it seemed.

He raised his hand to his forehead, giving you a stern salute. “You got it sweetheart.”

----------------------------------

It was the best hangover morning you’d ever had.

You didn't even know those existed, but with Dick Grayson- they did.

He made breakfast in your kitchen, like it was his house. Serving up perfect eggs and toast, with your fruit- it was as if it was gourmet.

Planting a soft kiss on the top of your head, before serving it to you was the cherry on top.

The two of you talked as the sun steadily filtered through the clouds, laughter and utensils clattering. He was just- you couldn't even put your finger on it. It was like he was your boyfriend- honestly.

You just met him the other night, and here he was, making you breakfast and laughing at your stupid jokes after staying the night on the couch- AFTER taking care of you.

There was no sex. No trade offs, no nothing.

It made your head spin, at the complete 180 he seemed to be from most college guys. He was older, yes, but not by much. A few years at most. But he carried himself as if he was matured, older and wise.

Like he could get anything he wanted, if he talked slickly enough- which he always did.

You were captivated under his spell, watching his blue eyes sparkle as he talked, and the ink black strands that would fall in front of them.

He was smart, he was funny and he was oh so sweet.

You wanted him to stay forever, just as company- in all honesty. He was amazing company. The silence was never awkward, when there was some that hung in the air. He’d just admire you from where you sat at the breakfast nook.

“You’re so pretty. You know that? The prettiest girl.”

It made your skin heat, always looking down at your hands fiddling in your lap, when his compliments became overwhelming (they all did).

But when the coffee grew cold, reality had set in, and he had to leave. As much as it pained you to let him go from your safe haven, you knew he had his own life to attend to- and you had yours. But that didn't stop you from trying to convince him, nonetheless.

”I think you should stay.” you teased as you opened the front door, leaving it swung open- as if to coax him back inside.

He groaned. “Bunny, you know I’d love to. But-”

His phone started to buzz, and he rolled his eyes, fishing it out of his pocket. Tim’s name flashed across the screen, a man you presumed was his friend.

“Speak of the devil. I gotta get back to help my roommates with something I promised them sadly, but I promise I’ll be back. Okay?”

You nodded, stepping out from where you were shielded by the door, body coming into full view. His eyes darkened, as he saw your thighs that poked out at him from your t-shirt in the dimmed hallway lighting.

“I’ll text you as soon as I can. Would you like to get dinner sometime this week?” he asked, stepping closer to you, so your breaths were practically intermingling.

You crained your head up to look at him with wide, doe eyes- and he nearly melted into a puddle. “I’d love that Dickie.”

“Yeah I know you would. Now cmere, I wanna kiss you. That okay?”

You licked your lips as he slowly backed you up against the doorframe, caging you in as his hand slipped up to grasp your jaw, holding it gentle- yet firm.

“I’d love that.”

He chuckled. “Yeah? This okay sweetheart?” he breathed, leaning down so his lips were almost touching yours.

Before you could answer, his lips were on yours, the sweet taste of him sending shocks up your spine- nerves coursing on fire at the sensation, as his tongue coaxed your lips to part, begging for entrance.

You moaned, muffled by his lips as he swallowed you whole, consuming you as he gripped your waist, tugging your hips closer to him, so your back was arched against the old wooden frame.

You felt dizzy, when the two of you finally parted, your lips feeling flushed and swollen, a dazed look in your eye as you just stared at him.

Was that the best kiss of your life? Yes.

Were you going to tell him that? Hell no.

You knew his ego did not to be inflated anymore.

He smiled mischievously, like a feline as he planted a kiss on your forehead, and then another, before he turned down the hall. Like he didn't just sweep you off your feet, leaving you dazed like some swooning princess who had just found her prince charming.

“I’ll call you sweetheart.” he called, waving without a second glance, before he disappeared down the stairs, and out the door- leaving no trace of him but your flushed skin and the door swinging on its hinges. 

--------------------------------

Dick was hounded the second his foot stepped in the door.

“So? When do we meet her?” Tim asked from the living room, perched beside the IKEA boxes of parts for the new couch he was supposed to help put up (even though they could easily do it without his help).

He slammed it behind him, hard. “Don't even start.”

Jason let out a little whistle, not even sparing Dick a glance, though he knew the look in his eye would set him off anyways. “He really likes this one Drake. Means he’s gonna get all possessive and not share her with any of us.”

He tossed Dick a wink, making Dick clench his fingers into fists. God they knew how to get under his skin.

“He’s scared she’ll decide she likes us better, don't worry Dickie, I get it.” Tim called, watching as Dick rolled his eyes, making his way over to the mess on the hardwood floor.

“When do we need this done by?” he ignored Tim, starting to pry open one of the boxes.

“Uhh I don't know, when do you want a couch for?”

“I don't know why we need a new couch. Our old one was fuckin fine.” Jason grumbled, flipping a screwdriver between his fingers, even though he was strong enough to probably just press the damn nails in.

“Because it was disgusting and I’m tired of breaking my ass on a spring whenever I watch a game.” Tim mumbled.

Dick was in his own world, tuning out anything that wasn't the thought of you. He already missed your presence. Your soft touch, your sweet smell, the little noises you made when he kissed you, pressing you firmly against the door.

So close he could feel your hardened nipples brush against his chest, skin hot to the touch.

He needed to see you, and soon. Where the hell did he want to take you for dinner?

Up on the East end?

No, not fancy enough.

He needed something spectacular for you. Ideally, he’d want you ending the bed in his bed, in his car- he didn't care where. He just wanted you again, your lips and your pretty little sounds that he would most definitely be imagining tonight when his hand was wrapped around his cock.

He’d take his time with you, unravelling you like a gift. Whether that was on leather seats or memory foam mattresses, he didn't care.

He’d needed this extra special for you.

He’d call in some favours.

---------------------------------- It was nearing the late evening when your phone buzzed, the only name you wanted to see popping up on it.

You were all ready for bed, facemask completed, everything shower done, soft pjs on, nails painted and candle lit. Seeing his name flash on the screen made your heart flutter, and you quickly opened his message, not even bothering to pause your show before responding.

Dick: Hey pretty. Does Tuesday work for dinner?

You: Hi :) Tuesday is perfect!

Even if you had plans that night- you’d push them aside.

Dick: Perfect. Be ready for 8pm, sharp ;)

You: Yes sir:)

You watched his message bubble up, before disappearing again. Then it popped up again, a notification alerting you that he had sent you money.

Your jaw dropped.

This man had just sent you $800 dollars.

Dick: You’re gonna accept this okay? Or I’m going to be very upset and I’ll find a way into your apartment and hand you the money myself. Get yourself something nice for Tuesday.

You were gobsmacked.

How the fuck were you supposed to accept this?

You: Dickie… I don't think I can accept this. And I don't even know what to wear.

Dick: You’ll accept it, and you’ll find something. Anything you pick will be beautiful, I promise bunny.

Your hands were shaking as you held your phone between twitching fingers, in a state of shock. You had known this man for two days, and he was splurging $800 on you? You didn't even know how to respond.

Although to him, you supposed- it probably was next to nothing.

Here he was, making you play dress up to some date planned- that you were unaware of. You had no theme to go off of, no idea of what was happening.

You bit your lip, fighting a little more, even begging for a clue or hint of what to wear- but he gave you nothing. Claiming he wanted you to be authentic, to wear whatever you wanted.

It was too much creative freedom.

Your head swarmed with thoughts of all the possibilities, $800 was a lot of money, and you didn't even know where to start. You let yourself have a mini freakout, and be overwhelmed, before you tucked yourself under the covers, pulling out your laptop to start browsing Pinterest.

You had no time to mess around.

You had a crush to impress.

--------------------------------------------------------

eek so dickie is gonna go all romantic and take reader on her first date? hmmm ;)

@gwyneveire <3 if anyone else wants to be tagged i can try and remember to add you in the future!

[solxamber]

Leona romantic and here's the song!

https://youtu.be/nBteO-bU78Y?si=BNupz7ZfAHeIzMER

Dont forget to drink water and eat some food!

"Love me like I love you" || Leona Kingscholar

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: We're Still Underground by Eve

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 660

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Mild Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship

Leona Kingscholar had never trusted happiness. It was a fleeting thing, a trick of the light, a cruel joke whispered on the wind before it was snatched away. He had learned long ago that hope was a losing game, that people only stuck around until they found something—or someone—better.

So when you came into his life, so bright and unwavering, so determined to love him without reservation, Leona didn’t know what to do with it.

You were everything he had convinced himself he wasn’t meant to have. Soft laughter in the morning, your fingers smoothing through his hair as he rested his head in your lap. Gentle kisses on the corner of his mouth, whispered words of affection given so freely it made his chest ache. You looked at him like he was worthy, like he was enough.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Because one day, you would realize the truth.

One day, you would see what everyone else had always seen—that he wasn’t worth staying for.

Leona had been waiting for that day since the moment you first called him yours.

Waiting for you to wake up and understand that he could never be the person you deserved.

Waiting for the moment you left him behind.

It was late when it happened, when the words he had spent so long dreading finally left your lips. The two of you were tangled together on his bed, your body warm beside his, your hand resting against his chest in lazy contentment.

“I love you."

He froze.

For a moment, the words didn’t quite register, like a foreign language spoken too softly to understand.

Then, his body tensed, and something heavy lodged itself in his throat.

“Don’t joke about stuff like that,” he muttered, staring up at the ceiling. His voice was calm, but the grip of his fingers against the sheets betrayed him.

There was silence, thick and suffocating.

Then—

"Leona."

His name on your lips was firm, filled with something unshakable. Before he could move, you reached for his hand, gripping it tightly.

"Look at me."

He did.

And you were watching him with something so raw, so devastatingly real, that it made his heart stutter in his chest.

"I mean it," you said, voice steady, eyes burning into his. "I love you."

Something inside him cracked, something deep and buried, something he had spent years convincing himself didn’t exist.

His breath was uneven, his thoughts a mess of tangled emotions. "Why?" he asked hoarsely.

"Leona, you're it for me." Your fingers tightened around his hand, grounding him, keeping him from slipping back into the shadows of his own mind. "I love you. Not some idealized version of you, not some fantasy. You."

His throat felt tight.

You weren’t saying this because you wanted something from him, or because you were caught up in the moment.

"You think I want the sun?" you murmured, your forehead pressing against his, your warmth seeping into his skin. "I don’t care where we are, Leona. I don’t care if we never leave the underground. As long as I have you, that’s enough."

His fingers twitched, then curled around yours.

For so long, he had been waiting for the inevitable goodbye.

But you weren’t leaving.

You had never planned to.

Slowly, hesitantly, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. He could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, could feel the quiet certainty of your presence beside him.

And maybe, he could believe in this.

Maybe love wasn’t about climbing toward something unreachable. Maybe it wasn’t about being enough for the rest of the world.

Maybe it was simply this—two people standing in the dark, hands clasped tight, knowing that neither of them would ever let go.

And for the first time in his life—

Leona didn't mind remaining underground

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[bunny-jpeg]

hiii first I would like to say that I LOVE your writing and I was wondering if you could do smth with Lando. This is quite a long order so you can pick and chose what you would like.

dark hot chocolate

milkshake

a vodka shot

spicy upside down cake

crème caramel

hot cross buns

bakery menu

thank you so much for the order! i've been really getting back into doing these bakery orders, so it's been fun working through the requests i've gotten! i always love doing a good lando fic, the fans i get in my inbox always have some of the most creative prompts i've ever seen so thank you! i hope you love this!

spicy upside down cake: "let's play a game: don't get caught." + crème caramel: "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?" + hot cross buns: "don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up." + dark hot chocolate: sub!reader + milkshake: size kink + a vodka shot: rough sex served by lando norris (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, rough sex, size kink, sub!reader, semi-public sex, brattiness, dirty talk & degrading language, filthy (!!)

lando norris loved a good brat. he loved when a girl thought she could snap at him. it was cute, and it got him hard. cute things with pouty lips and fluttering eyelashes, crossed arms that framed perfect, fat tits. drew him in and made his jeans tight.

nothing like fucking a brat back into submission.

so after being put through the ringer in silverstone, lando couldn't help himself. especially when you said his favourite word in a venomous tone, "no."

you ended up in his driver's room with his hands up the back of your t-shirt and he near slammed the door with his foot. he was moving you like a puppet. you weren't going anywhere too far, too fast. he kissed the nape of your neck and loved the feeling of his hands on your soft skin.

"oh. you thought you were getting away from me?" he teased as he rubbed the front of his jeans up against your behind, "tell me no and then expect to skitter off. you wouldn't get far and you know that. should've chased you through the garage and fucked that pretty pussy of yours over my car. rub those tits of your raw up against it." he was panting already, turned on by how deep his want was for you.

"lando." you whined and you ended up over the couch. your cheek almost pressed against the wall behind it. your knees on the cushion and your round behind on display for him. you crumbled so easily, it was cute.

lando licked his lips and admired you. the shape of you, the feel of you, how hot your skin got when you were turned on. made his cock throb in his jeans. he didn't take him the victory this weekend, but he was going to take your pussy. which was almost as good as a trophy.

"get undressed or else you'll be leaving for the car in a lot less clothes." he remarked, "but i'd be you love that, huh? bare tits out across the paddock, covered in my bite marks. because you're just a little slut aren't you?"he noticed you covering your face with your hands, "don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up." he then grabbed your roughly and got your ass on the cushion your legs spread open as you forced yourself to hold onto the couch.

you looked beautiful.

"strip or it becomes shreds." lando said as he grasped his cock through his jeans, "and don't hide your face, got it?" he was dominating, putting you in your place. and it made you heavily aroused. and he knew it. he knew that you were a sick puppy that way.

you quickly got out of all of your clothes, you were left naked. lando preferred when you were naked, even in cases where you could be easily caught. he was certain that if someone caught sight of your bare tits while you rode him, you'd cum on the spot. dirty girl.

lando kept most of his clothes on, didn't need his round ass to be on the cover of most major sports papers tomorrow. he crowded in your space and braced his hands over the top of the couch, on either side of your head. he watched you swallow and he grinned like a wolf. "pretty little thing." he said, "see, things are much easier when you drop the bratty-act."

"i thought you loved a challenge." you remarked as you looked at him with a cute little wink. it only pulled lando in and he stroked his cock at the sight of your cute figure. you really were something else. naked on the couch, your breasts and cunt on full display for him. and yet, you remain defiant.

"i do, but i also love girls who know when to shut up and take it." he sank his cock into you. you let out a sweet moan and he chuckled lowly, "let's play a game: don't get caught. think you can do that? keep that whore mouth quiet while i fuck you?" he pushed to the base and shakily exhaled. he felt a stir in his gut while he admired you.

you felt hot all over a she started to move against you. your body didn't feel like your own, you were under lando's spell as he fucked you. you tensed up around him as you kept your legs open for him. there was something that ran hot through you. it wasn't fair, he made you a panting dog for him.

"a real bitch in heat, huh?" he chuckled lowly as he continued to move against you. he pressed into you harder, "pretty eye though, gotta keep them interested somehow. or else they'll hit and leave." he continued to move against you. his thrusts made you see stars. who allowed for him to be this hot. this painfully good at making you moan.

you let out a whine and he gave you a firm pat on the cheek, he'd never harm you. he'd just make his presence known, after all he was your boyfriend, your love, your dominant in your life. he was rough, but not abusive. he made you squirm and enjoyed the feeling of you under him. on the stupid couch they gave him, fucking tomorrow out of you.

there was something about him. the way he carried himself, the way he moved through your space. he wasn't like others, he was like no man you had been with before. he made you pant. whine and more of all, cum at the feeling of his cock inside of you. he could work with what he had and it often made you moaning with heated pleasure.

he looked at you, he kept his eyes on you as he fucked up into you. he held onto the couch while he thrusted up into you. he kept his expressions under control while your face displayed all the feelings of pleasure he was giving you. he loved how you looked, he made you feel heaven, why not enjoy it too?

"please, lando. fuck, i love you."

"and i love you, baby. look at you, you take my cock like a champ. can you believe it? i guess you put your money where your mouth is, silly little slut." he licked his lips as he continued to move against you. his thrusts were heavy and they left a certain cloudiness in his brain as he fucked the daylights out of you. you were a slut for him and he loved that, he loved that he could bend, twist and fuck you however he saw fit. it was a good feeling in his soul as he rutted against you.

he knew that you loved him, you loved him as deep as veins ran deep in the body. he knew you were needy for him, you yearned for his heavy cock inside of you. his breathing was heavy in your ear as eh moved against you, the feel was overwhelming and you tried so hard to keep quiet. you didn't want to be the front page tomorrow because your boyfriend decided to fuck you until you saw stars.

"that's it, baby." he said as he thrusted up into you, "you feel amazing. all mine, who let you feel this good. you got a pussy most would die for." his pace continued, "i need you beautiful, always in my heart as i ruin your fucking pussy." his words were heated as he fucked you. there was little time for tenderness as he ravaged you.

you kept your tone quiet as you held onto him, letting him fuck your sweet cunt. it was hard to keep quiet with the pace so quick and so erotic that it left your core quivering for him. you knew you weren't going to last much longer.

"gonna behave for me now, be a good girl for me?" he asked as he held your throat. he didn't choke you, he held you so you'd keep your eyes on him. as he continued to rut against you, the feeling was hot, the weight of his hand against you as he made your core flutter around him.

you nodded dumbly, not much else to say as he fucked you with a heated want. you reached out for him and clung to his t-shirt while you climaxed around his cock. you squeezed around him, eyes shut and held onto him tightly. he continued to fuck you, he fucked you through you orgasm and only grinned at the blissed out expression you had. you looked like a total dream, even in the heat of climax. he kissed your neck and fucked you roughly.

he was in total control and he felt the fire in his core as he moved against you. your wetness stained the front of his jeans, which only spurred him on to make you a panting, whiny mess. he eventually shut you up with a heated kiss and kept you pinned to the couch by your shoulders.

he was going to fuck the brattiness out of you, and with a few more heavy strokes of his hips he finished inside of you. he watched your eyes flutter close for a moment before you loosely held onto him. it was erotic to see you in a state of total bliss as he came. you two fit together beautifully and lando couldn't help but kiss your neck as he moved against you slower and let himself feel your entire body.

hands trailed across your sides before he held you hips tightly and pulled out of your cunt. he looked at you and exhaled deeply against your neck, "beautiful." he said with much more tenderness.

he looked at his soft cock and then to you. he then asked as he admired your messy expression. you were all blissed out from him. he patted your thigh and said, "now be a good girl and get dressed. you can louder in the hotel." <3

[softestqueeen]

prompt: "Oh? Does that turn you on?" a/n: sub!spencer lives in my head rent free. i hope you like it, enjoy <3 so, this is a repost beacause the original post got literally 0 notes and i want to see if tumblr is the issue or if it was really my writing 😭 original post + request warings:18+ MDNI!!, smut, pet names, hand job, dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink pairing: sub!spencer reid x dom!reader I 979 words special prompts I special masterlist

You were standing in the kitchen of your boyfriends flat. Spencer Reid could do a lot of things and knew how to do even more things, but the one thing he never quite mastered, was cooking.

By no means were you a good chef, but you knew you way around a kitchen and could whip up a few meals. Which is why you were currently in Spencers kitchen, showing him how to do a simple lasagna.

"And that's how you do the layers. The key is to stay consistent and make the layers even. Now you go ahead and try, Spence."

Your boyfriend didn't enjoy the cooking as much as the close proximity while you were showing him how to do all the steps, guiding his hands or just hugging him from the side while watching something cook.

Watching Spencer cook away made pride swell in your chest. This wasn't your first cooking lesson and it was definetely a dramatic improvement from your first one, where you had a quick bathroom back and once you returned he managed to completely burn the pasta sauce. He looked like a kicked puppy while you threw the sauce away.

But since then he had gotten significantly better, even surprising you with a home cooked meal on your anniversery.

Once Spencer successfully laid out the next layer of the long pasta and sauce, you couldn't help but smile.

"You did such a good job, you're getting better and better," you knew your boyfriend loved it when you praised him, so you decided to tease him a little bit with it ,"you're such a good boy, Spencer."

That made him stop. Spencer was glad that he wasn't facing you right now, but rather was standing at the counter with you standing behind him to his right, now looking at his face. You immediately saw his blush, but Spencer was glad you couldn't see the boner he was now sporting after hearing his words.

He knew you were teasing him in a way, though you were still earnest. Still, he couldn't keep his body from reacting, the words planting a seed inside of his mind in a place he hadn't dared to discover yet.

You could see immediately what had happened, how your words affected Spencer. A slow smile spread over your face and you stepped closer to him, your lips now directly next to his ear.

"Oh, does that turn you on? I didn't know you liked being called that, though you were always my good boy." Now you were being a bit mean, but you knew that Spencer would tap out if it got too much.

At you calling him a good boy again, Spencers breath hitched. He wasn't surprised that you almost immediately caught on to his feelings.

You reached around his hip, palming his length through his trousers, making Spencer moan. Starting to pepper kisses over his neck, while Spencer leaned against you, just teasing him for now.

"You like that, baby? Me calling you a good boy?" He could hear you so clearly with your mouth directlly to his ear and his cock twitched in reaction to your filthy words.

It took him a moment to register that you asked him a question, but once he did he nodded, putting more of his weight against you.

"Words, baby, I need words. Be a good boy for me or I'll stop."

"Y- Yes, I- uhm, do like it when you call me that. Please, please I need you."

You could feel him throbbing though his trousers, deciding to have some mercy. Slowly undoing his belt and popping open the button of his jeans. Reaching inside you pull out his length, the tip glistening with precum as Spencer let out a relieved sigh.

Taking him in your hand you slowly start to move up and down, spreading the precum on his length. His pretty moans and whines only spurred you on further, not yet increasing your speed, but the grip you had on him, making him gasp.

You knew this was a new situation for the both of you, the dynamic itself already familiar. You decided to test out the waters, Spencer now being able to think clear enough incase he felt uncomfortable with anything.

"Such a good boy for mommy, huh? You like my hand wrapped arounf you?" Spencer moaned at your filthy words, his cock twitching imaptiently in your hand.

"Yes mommy, please more." Jackpot.

You went faster over his length, your free hand wandering to his front as well, slipping under his t-shirt and sprawling out over his stomach, making his muscles contract.

"You're doing so well for me, baby. I can feel you're getting closer."

"Please, mommy, make me cum. I want to be good for you." His breathing was getting more irregular and you could feel him being impossibly close to his high.

"Don't worry baby, yo're already such a good boy for me. Cum for me, cum for mommy."

Your words finally tipped him over the edge, his cum spurting all over his stomach and your hand. You continued to stroke him, your movements slowing down while he calmed down as well.

You peppered kisses onto evey free patch of skin you could reach at the moment and retracted your hand, taking a paper towel to clean you both up. After washing your hands and cleaning up the evidence of your short lived passion, you were ready to get things done.

"Well I'd say you finish the lasagna and then we'll contine. What do you say, Spence?"

With those words you left a stunned and sputtering Spencer behind. He turned around, looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes. But once you gave him a pointed look, he immediately went back to the lasagna. 

You were sure you've never seen someone layer anything that fast.

the requests for this event are OPEN until sunday (16/02)! here are the prompts!

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

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requests open! (now also for the x files)

taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@bigbananaa @mmmmokdok

[gold-onthe-inside]

contingency operations

n. def. - a situation requiring military operations in response to natural disasters, terrorists, subversives, or as otherwise directed by appropriate authority to protect US interests.

who? spencer reid (s7) x analyst!reader summary: when a former navy SEAL threatens your base of operations, your safety is the only thing on spencer's mind. content warnings: jealous and pining spencer, gun talk, spencer kind of manhandles you, spencer getting cockblocked by jj word count: 1.8k a/n: don't hate me, i didn't have his confession speech planned.

It’s not that far a stretch for you to be the first person he thinks of — while JJ’s negotiating with her DoD contacts to get them a look at a classified operation, he’s gone upstairs to look for you. Working in counterintelligence meant you had access to all kinds of information, whether that be domestic or international. Spencer carefully carried the cup of coffee, file pinned under his arm, aiming to find you at your cubicle, except you’re standing at another one, perched on the table while you talked to another person.

Spencer’s not the kind to get jealous, or so he thought, except the guy you’re talking to isn’t like the others who occupy the floor — he’s got broad shoulders and an easy smile, and at least if he was blond, he wouldn’t have been competition. He just had to be a brunet, charming to top it off. Spencer doesn’t know if he’s ever made you smile unless you were teasing him.

The longer he stands there, the more awkward he feels, and he eventually gets the nerve to knock on your desk and make you look up — an improvement to a year ago where he would have just pretended to look lost and leave. His stomach turns when he watches you place your hand on the guy’s shoulder, squeezing as you walk away.

“Is that a bribe I see?” you asked, the corner of your lip curling as you spied the coffee in his hand.

“Nope, it’s completely unrelated to the favor I came to ask,” Spencer said, earning a rueful look as you take it and sit in your chair.

“What do you need?” you asked, sipping the coffee that was made perfectly to your liking — he'd gotten to know your preferences better over the last year, spending more time together since the Doyle case. You'd been an escape from the suffocating emptiness of the bullpen, and he'd been good company when you had been barred from Penelope's lair for 6 months.

“Anything you might have on Dorado Falls,” Spencer said, his voice rising an octave in hope that you might help as you go through your files.

“And Pen can’t do this because?” you asked, pulling up your file directory.

“She doesn’t have clearance,” Spencer said, lacing his fingers together and twisting it in his nervousness. As expected, you turn your head to look at him.

“You want eyes on a classified op you don’t have the clearance for?” you asked, raising a brow at him.

“Yes?” He's got this puppy-eyed look, like when he asks if you have lunch plans, or if you want to see a 4-hour long sci-fi film that's only available in Russian.

“Reid,” you said with a sigh, rubbing your forehead. “I can’t just—”

“He killed 8 people in one day,” Spencer insisted in a hushed voice. “He’s got a U.S. General as a hostage, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” He watched your folded lips, your contemplative look, and he can finally take a breath when you turn your chair and acquiesce.

“You people are gonna get me fired one of these days,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer leaning over your shoulder as you find the file you’re looking for. “Navy SEAL operation, 2003, this what you’re looking for?” you asked, his breath fanning over your cheek, warm and coffee-tinged. If you turned your head, you could probably kiss his cheek — not that you would. But the thought crosses your mind as he nodded.

“That’s the one,” he said, and moved when you had to reach for the drawer, copying the file onto a clean flashdrive before ejecting it.

“I like my job, Reid,” you said, turning to look at him, which you could do forever with his coiffed hair and blue sleeves rolled to his elbows, paired with a grey vest. “If I get fired, you’re paying my rent,” you continued, pressing the flashdrive into his hand and his lips break into a smile.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he replied, closing his hand over the drive and leaving you to your work, and you watched him walk until he got to the glass doors, holding back a laugh as you watched him break into an awkward run for the elevators.

The next time he goes to your floor, he doesn’t bother waiting for the lift, running up stairs as fast as he can to get to you before the unsub does — even though it’s wholly unprofessional. He needs to be with his team, ready to talk down the unsub at a moment’s notice, but his focus shattered the moment he found out you hadn’t evacuated yet. Instead, you were focused on activating a failsafe program, in case anyone other than the members of your division moved to access the network on your floor.

“What are you still doing here?” Spencer yelled at you, almost skidding to your cubicle.

“Almost done, give me a second,” you said, gritting your teeth, fingers flying over your keyboard as you authenticate yourself. “Jesus Christ, I need to make this program faster,” you muttered and Spencer swears that if the unsub doesn’t kill you, he might.

“Really? There’s a Navy SEAL breaking into the building, and you’re thinking of more projects to work on?” he demanded, his hands pressed to his revolver.

“There’s a Navy SEAL on his way and you think a cowboy pistol’s gonna save you?” you retorted sharply.

“What do you have against my gun?” he asked, his voice rising in octave again.

“Uh, how about the reload for one,” you said. “What, do you carry around spare bullets in your pocket? Plus the recoil rules out rapid fire. What are you gonna do if you get pinned down?”

“I’m gonna keep you from getting killed,” he said, reaching out to grip your bicep. “You’re right, I don’t have the firepower of an uzi, what I can do is get us out of this room,” he finished, tugging your arm.

"Hold on, it's almost done," you muttered.

"No, I'm dragging you out of here now-" He said, but you just shrugged, still tapping away at the keys with only your left hand free.

"No, you can't," you said idly as you continued to work. "You haven't the strength to get me to move without cooperation, and I'm not leaving until I finish this."

“I-“ he opened his mouth, then closed it. What was he going to say? That you were being stubborn for the sake of it? That your life was more important than this task? That you should get up, and run with him? That he’d save you? He couldn’t voice any of those. You both knew them all anyway, and you’d be able to rebuff them with ease. “Just hurry, please.”

He leaned closer to you, trying to ignore the soft scent of your hair.

"Oh, well, now that you've told me to hurry," you responded dryly, turning your face to look at him, inches away from his. The proximity surprised him, but he barely had time to think about it before you were hitting return and taking your hand off the keys.

“Done,” you announced, standing up. “Time to run. Unless, of course, you want to argue about that too?”

"Can we?" he asked, pulling you along the corridor. "I do have a list of complaints about your recklessness."

"You have a list of complaints about everything," you retorted as he opened the fire escape door for you. You stepped through, Spencer closing the door behind you both.

"Your general attitude is up there," He admitted, running down the stairs and pulling you after him. "Your inability to keep yourself safe, your tendency to throw yourself into danger for the sake of a project—"

"Jesus Christ, Reid, if we find out a rogue operative is going to break in, you don't think we'd have a protocol for it?" you argued, frustrated.

"Yes, I believe the protocol is to evacuate," he reminded you, reaching the landing. He kept you close, though he'd never admit that it was to reassure himself.

"God, for a genius, you really are daft," you muttered, rounding the corner to another flight of stairs. "You think we'd just leave the entire network open for him?"

"No," he allowed, following your hurried footsteps. "But I don't think your life should be worth the risk. No data is worth you dying."

"Yeah, how about dozens of classified operations and cover identities that need to be kept under wraps?" you snapped at him. "I was doing my job, you're the one who came looking for me when you should be with your team."

"The team knows my priority is with you," he admitted, then immediately regretted it because that was information that he hadn't been planning to tell you.

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him. "What does that mean?"

His eyes widened and he backtracked. "The team knows that if you're threatened, the likelihood is I'll disregard protocol," he said. Well, it was the truth, even if it wasn't really what he'd meant. "We should keep moving," he said.

"No, you can't keep doing this," you demanded, pulling at his arm. "Every time, every time, you say this cryptic coded thing that I don't know what to do with. Just say what you mean, already!"

"I-I don't..." Spencer's heart was hammering in his chest, his eyes wide. The truth was, he wanted to tell you. He wanted you to know where you stood with him... but the fear of rejection would stop him every time. He was in love with you. He hadn't had the courage to admit it yet. His earpiece interrupts him, and for once in his life, Reid is almost glad to have his earpiece interrupt his thoughts.

“Reid, we’re seeing movement on the 7th floor, where are you?” JJ asked, her voice rushed.

"I'm in the stairwell with the most stubborn woman in the world," he said, looking pointedly at you as you scowled at him.

“Get back up here,” JJ replied. “We need all hands on deck.”

"I'm coming," he said, and looked at you. "So much for getting you out," he murmured. "If you run now, can I trust you won't go back to your desk?"

“Believe it or not, I have no interest in facing a 6 ft Navy SEAL,” you replied dryly.

"So that's a yes," he says, smiling despite his attempt to remain serious.

I'm in love with you, he thought, but he wasn't brave enough to say.

I don't want to lose you. He was even less willing to voice that.

"Don't stop running till you're out," he told you instead, his voice as firm as he could make it.

"Don't get killed by a SEAL," you replied, your sense of humor never failing you as you add, "Although, it would be a cool way to go out."

"I'm sure you'll be very smug about it at my funeral," he said, but neither of you were really smiling anymore. "I'll be okay," he promised you. "Get out of here."

You take one last lingering look at him, then started running down to the exit, leaving him behind.

It took him a full 5 seconds to start moving after you finally left, and the feeling of emptiness in his chest only grew with each step up the stairs.

He was in love with you, and he was determined to tell you.

Just not yet.

[ass-sassafras]

This reminds me of a story I saw, might have been a real story. This woman's boyfriend was complaining that it always took her so long to get ready to go on dates, so she said okay. I'll put in the same amount of time you do, and I'll do that for a month and we'll see how it goes.

Well, she got it down to the exact amount of effort. All he did to get ready was shower, brush his teeth and brush his hair, then he just grabbed whatever clothes were comfy but appropriate. She did the same. No makeup, no shaving, no hairstyling. If he wore shorts and a tank top, she did, all without shaving because he didn't.

At the end of the month experiment, he conceded and desperately begged her to start "looking feminine" again, and he promised not to complain about how long the process took. But unfortunately for him, she'd gotten to experience how much less stressful it was to just do what he did, so she decided not to go back. She'd gotten used to her bare face and not feeling shaving irritation all the time. Gotten used to not having a nice looking bra digging into her ribs or uncomfortable shoes making her feet ache. No shoulder pain from carrying a purse.

I don't know how it ended because it's been a few years since I read it, but it was amazing. One of the best ways I've started to reclaim myself after getting divorced was to get rid of all the feminine shit that my ex expected from me. I stopped carrying a purse during Covid lockdown and have never gone back. I don't shave my bikini line anymore, instead I bought swim shorts and a swim top. I buy clothes for comfort including bras, socks and underwear. I wear comfortable shoes that I could walk in all day.

Like most of the things that are considered "women's work" such as cooking and cleaning, spending a lot of time getting ready is one of those things that no one sees or cares about until it's not done. Like, no one at my job knows how long it takes me to get ready in the morning, but they'd sure notice if I didn't shower, brush my teeth or change out of my pj's. That one is a gender neutral example. But it shows that we have to do all this shit that no one seems to care about until it's not done. It's very disheartening.

I think my least favorite Hetero Trope is when the girl eats a burger or whatever and the dude is like “Wow, I like a girl who can eat” like what the fuck did your last girlfriend do, photosynthesis?

[kesadoll]

♡ CWS MDNI 3.8k ♡ brattyblack!reader, boss!shiu, coworker!toji, oral {f + m}, unprotected, d♡ggy, poor y/n gets manhandled over shiu's desk, it gets NASTY. {petnames: doll, baby, brat, slut. ♡}

♡ sum. you came back from a mission to get sent off on another, but before you went your boss & coworker had something to say about your attitude...

kesa's note just wanted to let it be known I made about 4 other drafts after this one but ended up coming back to this..... but it fed something in me i didn't know was hungry LMAOO i hope u like it :p asks & reblogs always welcome!

you walked down a series of halls, each step you took feeling like it drained what little energy you had left. you were covered in what you could only assume was blood, sweat, and mud.

see, you were…a spy of sorts. you’d go gather intel, beat up, and maybe kill someone if you were tasked to, maybe even just for fun. you were a wildcard and a headache for your poor boss, shiu. 

you walked into his office, plopping yourself on the large couch that sat in the middle of the room and sprawling out. shiu was there, smoking his usual cigarette, shooting a glance at you as he tidied up some papers. “someone needs a shower,” he said, gesturing over to your dirtied clothes and the way your hair curled at your neck from sweat, his baritone like music to your ears. 

you wanted to protest, but you knew better. talking back to shiu usually meant some type of harsh and unreasonable punishment, and you were far too exhausted so you resorted to a grumble. his gaze softened, seeing the exhaustion on your face. he felt guilty for sending you to a job by yourself, but he knew you could do it which is why he sent you anyway. 

shiu took a long drag of his cigarette, smoke billowing from between his lips as he exhaled, “it was that bad?”

you nodded faintly, huffing, “didn’t think it would be soooo much work..” he chuckled at your pouting, finding it amusing. it was rare to see you in such a state, but you were much calmer than you usually were, and it saved shiu the headache. 

he ashed his cigarette over the fancy-looking ashtray on his desk as he spoke, “you’re capable, that’s why i let you take the job. besides..” he paused, blowing a cloud of smoke towards you, “if you couldn’t handle it, you would’ve been dead the minute you walked in there.”

you lifted your head, your usual wide eyes sending metaphorical lasers right through shiu’s head. this was your normal attitude, kinda crazy and a tad ditzy, but you were extremely lethal and beyond just smart. “mmmh!” you  grumbled, resting your head back again, “they almost made me lose a nail!”

shiu let out a sigh, shaking his head slightly at your usual attitude. sometimes, he wondered who's the bigger pain in the ass: you or him. he stubbed out his cigarette on the table, watching as the ashes fall to the floor. he leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, a small smirk on his face, "you know, someday that crazy attitude of yours is gonna be the death of you."

“or you’re gonna be the death of me!” you kicked your legs, practically throwing a fit in your seat. “you’re the one who hired me off the street and sent me off to do your dirty work!” after his laugh filled the room, you went limp, being a total drama queen. “what was the main point of me going there anyway?”

he rolled his eyes at your dramatics, but he couldn’t help the smile on his face as he shook his head. “it’s like you never listen to a thing i tell you. i sent you to get intel on some freeloaders that crossed someone important. they’ve gone off the radar and i’m tired of hearing about it.”

“oh yeah!” you recounted, remembering what you came in here to tell shiu, “apparently the guy you wanted ran off to some island i’ve never heard about before. i wrote it down before i dealt with those mangy-lookin’ henchmen.” you pulled a small piece of paper out the pocket of your shorts. you couldn’t help but stretch momentarily, the exhaustion starting to get to you before you began to walk over to him. 

shiu’s eyes wandered up and down your body, as you sauntered over towards him. you looked like a wreck, but still beautiful nonetheless. 

“goddamn it.” he grumbled, snuffing out his cigarette before grabbing another one. he offered you one, knowing that sometimes after a mission like that you needed it more than he did. “i’ll send someone else to follow up then.”

you couldn’t help but pout, shaking your head at the cigarette as you sat on the desk in front of him. “why can’t i go?!” your voice was almost a whine. 

shiu placed a comforting hand on your knee, its scarred digits giving it a gentle squeeze. despite how annoying you could be, you were cute, which made it worse knowing how you got his attention. “let’s use our critical thinking skills. you think i’m going to let you go to some island by yourself?”

he did have a fair point. he wanted as much information about where he was going to send you and since this was a new area and there were time constraints? going by yourself was absolutely out of the question. though you wanted to go, you loved how shiu protected you always.

“you could come with me! i’ve never gotten to see you in action,” you squeaked in defiance, trying to hide the heat you felt in your cheeks at his touch, “i bet you we both could deal without them no problem!”

shiu chuckled at your determination, his hand moving up your thigh slightly. you acted like a spoiled brat, and he found it endearing especially since he knew it was his fault anyway. he lit his new cigarette and took a long drag, smoke billowing from between his lips as he spoke.

“you know i can’t do that, doll,” his dark eyes bore into yours, the nickname causing you to catch your breaths moving faster, “and what if you get hurt, huh? who’s gonna take care of you then?” 

“mmmnnn….the nice nurses down the hall, they’re really good!” you giggled nervously, taking off your thigh holster so you’d be able to break eye contact with him. it wasn’t very often the two of you got to spend time together like this, but when you did you tried to soak up as much of it as you could before you got too nervous to even be sitting next to him.

 out of the corner of your eye, you noticed he was smirking, his hand moving up your thigh again. despite how much he teased you knowing how you’d melt, he enjoyed the closeness himself and he always tried to let you know, even if it was subtle.

shiu glanced down at the holster you placed on the table, his hand moving to your waist, his thumb rubbing small circles, “i’ll make you a deal. you can go, but he has to go with you.” before you could even process the way his large hand fit perfectly on your hip your eyes shot up at him, almost shouting in protest, but you stopped yourself knowing if you did you wouldn’t be able to go at all.

the “him” in question was fushiguro toji, a coworker of yours you swore was your enemy. the two of you worked together once, and you hoped you never had to again. he was incredibly hot (and the two of you were a breath away from lips touching), yes, but he was an asshole and acted like he hated everything, which wasn’t far from the truth.

a door opened behind you and your eyes narrowed at shiu, realizing he had planned to send you off with toji the whole time. “the two of you will be working together,” shiu said, blowing smoke from his lips again, not at all moving his hand from your hip.

toji grunted, looking back and forth between shiu and the back of your head. “don’t wanna, but i’m here.”

“great, you didn’t have much of a choice anyway.” shiu said, trying to comfort you by squeezing your waist before he stood. toji truly hated working with others, but he had to admit that out of everyone he tolerated working with you the most. you being prettier than a lot of them was only another plus for him. but for you, knowing toji was like shiu’s best friend and right-hand man, it made you sick.

“whatever.” toji spat back, moving over to the couch you once sat on, leaning his cheek on his fist. 

you rolled your eyes, your arms and legs now crossed, “he acts like everything is so miserable all the damn time.” you didn’t bother to hide the annoyance in your voice, wanting toji to know that you were just as miserable as him. 

“yeah, because it is.” he said flatly, but that stupid smile was on his face. “unfortunately, i’ll be just as miserable working with you, you know we don’t have a choice.”

“you’ll both get over it, yeah?” shiu chuckled, the back and forth between the two of you being amusing to him. 

“or not” you huffed, starting to get irritated on top of your being tired.

“she’s so dramatic.” toji hummed against his hand, his eyes trailing up your back.

“fuck you,” you mumbled, making sure either of them couldn’t hear you..or so you thought.

shiu’s eyebrow raised. he looked down at you, an expression on his face you couldn’t quite put a name to. before you could blink, his hands were on either side of you, his brolic frame leaning over you, his muscles begging for release under his dress shirt. 

“repeat that for me.” toji’s voice came from directly behind you, making you flinch at the sound.

now you were in a predicament. you were sandwiched between the two big men, seeing toji’s large hand out of your peripherals. if you responded, you were sure not going to be able to go on the mission you were just begging to go on earlier. even if you wanted to say anything the air between the two men was way too thick with their cologne for you, opting to just shake your head no.

wrong answer

“she was being so good earlier, i don’t know what happened.” shiu took a moment to admire your face, studying your features. he raised a hand to your cheek, knowing how much you loved it when he did so, cupping it while you looked up at him, “you’re always causing me trouble and giving me headaches..i’ll give you another chance to use your words.”

you couldn’t help but lean your head into his hand. you brought your hands up to his forearm, holding his arm there. shiu felt a mixture of affection and amusement knowing you’d already sealed your fate as he rubbed your cheek with the pad of his thumb. 

“the brat is obsessed with you,” toji leaned over you, looking at shiu. from what you could see when you looked up, toji was giving shiu a dangerous smirk, a form of silent communication between the two of them, except shiu wasn’t so quiet.

“y/n, wanna make it up to me?” you nodded eagerly, watching as shiu lit a new cigarette, stepping back to take a seat in his chair, “instead of me punishing you, toji’s going to do it. that’s your punishment.”

you stared blankly for just a moment, not knowing what shiu was talking about until toji’s large hands appeared on your thighs, trailing up your body before stopping at your breasts, and cupping them. “but wh-”

“you talk to him like that, you’re also disrespecting me, you know that doll.” shiu cut off whatever you were about to say, watching as his best friend massaged your tits, adjusting himself in his seat once he saw your legs start to spread on their own, his eyes never leaving them, “he’s just going to teach you to watch your mouth, i’ve let you off the hook too many times cause i like you. ”

you got excited hearing shiu’s words but got sidetracked once you felt toji push your shirt and bra up and over your breasts, the cold air causing you to let out a quiet whimper. “i dunno boss,” he teased, bringing his face down beside yours, “it looks like she’s liking this a little too much, huh?”

he did have a point but why would you ever admit that, “ i-i do- ngh!” your hips bucked at the sudden assault on your nipples, toji’s calloused fingers relentlessly tugging, pinching, and rolling over your nipples. head leaned back and you still tried to deny it, which only led to toji turning you around and laying you on your back.

shiu appeared behind you to make sure that you were watching toji as he pulled off your shorts and panties, his gaze darkening once it landed on your cunt that was already so soaked. he dragged two fingers through your folds and you squeezed your legs together, or tried to, only to be met by a slap to your breast by shiu, afterward him reaching down and holding your legs open and up by your chest. “you’re gonna keep your legs open, understand?”

“y-yes sir,” you mewled. toji was merely playing with your essence, enjoying the way you greedily rocked your hips while you lay in shiu’s arms. something about it did so much to him, and he knew it did just as much, if not more, for you as well.

“she’s so pretty, and her cunt is even prettier.” he purred to himself, but shiu agreed nonetheless, his hands toying with your breasts despite him not supposed to be having contact with you, he couldn’t help himself. he really couldn’t help himself seeing now, watching toji bury his face into your pussy. “tell me how good it tastes.”

“t- oji!” you hiccuped, toji humming against your clit in response. his nose was pushed up against your mound, his tongue lapping at your folds nauseatingly before he sucked them up into his mouth while he shook his head. even his stubble was tickling you in all the right places. your eyes rolled so far back you thought you could smell colors, your hand tangling in his dark hair.

“yeah? watch him eat your fuckin’ pussy, open your eyes.” your eyes came back once you felt a tap on your cheek, looking up to see shiu tilting your head back down at toji who was looking right back at you. you truly were trying your hardest, but the way the man between your legs was groaning against, sucking, and swirling at your already puffy cunt made it extremely hard to breathe, let alone keep your eyes open and focused.

 you caught yourself going cross-eyed, not able to help the drool that fell from your lips, when toji plunged a finger into your hole, mouth still locked onto your clit. the slutty noises that came from him; grunts, slurps, & groans, reveling in the scent and taste of your pussy..he’s fucking nasty. 

just when your lower stomach tightened, shiu said the worst thing he could’ve ever said at that moment, “stop.”

toji didn’t hesitate to release you from his mouth with a pop, giving you kisses up your stomach as to apologize, your whines and babbling pleas making him feel just the slightest bit bad for you.”i’m sorry baby,” he cooed, your hips still grinding up into the air, trying to find some type of friction. “poor thing, you taste so good.”

“if you want to cum, you’ll have to convince me you deserve it, doll.” shiu said sweetly, pushing your beautiful curls out your face and wiping the tears from your cheeks that would’ve been red had it not been for your pretty brown skin. 

“give the brat to me,” toji gave you that sickening smile while shiu picked you up like it was nothing and laid you down on your stomach so now you were facing toji..well the thick bulge that was straining through his sweats. “see what you did?”

toji shamelessly palmed himself through his pants, his head slightly cocked to the side as he watched your face contort once in pleasure once you felt shiu’s middle and index finger rub deep figure 8’s into your clit, toji’s nostrils flaring. “she’s s’fucking hot.” 

“i told you so.” shiu hummed, his other hand giving your ass a tight grip before he brought his hand down on it, the stinging sensation making you whine and clench around nothing. “y/n, pull his pants down.”

you nodded, nibbling in your bottom lip at the thought of where this thing might be going sooner rather than later. you grabbed a hold of toji’s waistband and wasted no time pulling it down. toji’s cock flopped on your face, causing the three of you to smile or laugh, especially with the squeak you made.

“open,” toji pushed your hair from the front of your face, his fingers gently tangling in with your messy curls. his hand stopped at the top of your head, pulling your head towards him once you opened your mouth. 

a gag slipped past your lips and around toji’s cock, his thick and spongey tip catching you off guard once he pushed down. “oh fuck-” a groan resonated from in his chest, his head falling back as he did so. toji began thrusting into your mouth, the motion causing you to push back onto shiu’s fingers which had found their way into your needy cunt.

the room was filled with toji’s grunts and moans, your slew of gags, moans, and cries following his. shiu was taking it allllll in. something about watching your lips stretch around his best friend's cock, the way that your pretty brown eyes watered and rolled back, and the way that your pussy was sucking his fingers in so deep, your sopping wet walls begging him for more..and oh was he going to give it to you.

“fuck this,” shiu muttered through gritted teeth. from what you could hear through your poor, fuzzy ears was shiu scrambling to get his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, not even attempting to pull his pants down. no, that would take entirely too long and he needed to feel you stretched around him and he needed it now. 

“she’s jus’ looks too good, huh?” toji grinned through one of his groans, a breathier one following after your throat tightened because of a moan, your tongue massaging those aching veins of his. shiu brought a hand to the fat of your left hip, keeping you from doing too much squirming while he rubbed the length of his thick cock between your folds, your wetness alone enough to lube him up.

“y/n, play with his balls.” shiu requested of you. you didn’t know why he asked you instead of toji, but the curse that slipped between his lips and the way his body lurched forward, you knew it was to shut him up, a little teasing smile curling up on your lips. 

that smile was quickly wiped off your face by the sudden fullness inside you, your aching walls welcoming shiu with pathetic squelches. toji lets you come up for air, his tip just resting on your puffy bottom lip, his pre and your spit dribbling off it.  “shiuu!~” you looked back to see shiu focused, both of his hands gripping your ass, still slipping his cock inside you, each little bit that went in making your knees wobble beneath you. 

“shhh,” toji massaged the top of your head with the hand he still had in your hair, his other hand turning you to face him. praises erupted from shiu whose hips finally met the fat of your ass. he kept his thrusts slow and shallow, a hand gliding up your back, following that perfect arch you were giving him so soon. 

toji’s dick started twitching at the sight: your ass recoiling every time you and shiu’s skin met, watching how his stomach muscles already started tensing and the ring of your cream starting to form around his base. you looked absolutely fucked out, your tongue lolling out your mouth in search of toji. he looked at you with half-lidded eyes, his grip tightening around your jaw, sliding his length right back into your mouth where it belonged.

at this point, saying you were shaking was an understatement. the way your poor body was being slung back and forth by the two dicks, one of which angled his thrusts so deep you thought he’d punch through your stomach at any moment now, the other so far down your throat your nose smushed up against the bottom of his belly now and then, feeling the way his balls tightened in your hand. if that wasn’t enough, both of them talking to you the way that they were had you teetering over the edge, and you could tell that they were too.

“gonna fill you up so deep with my cum, fuck-” shiu spoke in almost a whisper, “fill you up so fuckin’ deep you’ll give me a baby, yeah? gonna let your boss put a fuckin’ baby in you with your coworker’s dick in your mouth?” that was all you needed to hear before your body tensed up, going cross-eyed as you came around shiu, your pussy clenching down on him, your throat and mouth doing the same on toji while a stream of muffled moans left your lips. 

the two greedy men didn’t let up, if anything they only went harder. feeling you squeeze made shiu’s hips rut into you faster, his own eyes fluttering shut while he practically had you slamming back onto him with his hands.  a series of “oohh fuuuck-”s were flying out of shiu’s lips with each thrust, each one getting longer and needier, his head starting to roll back.

“you better fuckin’ fill her up…fill ‘er little cunt up shiu…do it..” toji grunted in between his own moans which only made shiu plow into you deeper, which in turn had your mouth bouncing on toji’s dick so good he almost fell forward again, his hand moving from your hair to grip onto the desk.  

words could no longer be formed between the both of them, only their moans and the slapping of skin circling through the room. toji finished first, muttering curses and praises all while holding your head still, his ribbons of ooey goodness trickling down your throat in little spurts. shiu wasn’t that far behind him either. he finished with a loud “holy shi-”, his hips stuttering, continuing his thrusts until his stomach trembled, finally pulling out of you along with toji. 

the both of them stood there for a moment, breathless. they admired how beautiful you looked lying on shiu’s desk. still twitching and panting, not able to help the quiet whines that came off you while you calmed down. “s’much for a punishment, you okay doll?” shiu’s voice was gentle, his hand massaging your lower back.

“look at her,” he moved your hair out of your face, revealing a cockdrunk smile and drool still dripping from your chin, “of course she liked it.”

“you little slut.”

orignal works by me ♡ reblogs welcome, do not steal/recreate..

mechanic!nanami next

[obeymeluv]

We Had a Baby! (For a Grade?) - PT 1 -Malleus

Putting a divide up and a notice that Malleus' part WILL reference what he looked like in his younger fae form. For those that have made it through book seven, you know. For those that haven't made it to book seven, well...maybe skip this part.

Also...I thought these would be on the shorter side and I'd fit in multiple people but I guess Malleus is special. I'll try to be shorter with the other parts to get more people in.

Finding "Mal" names were hard, man.

Note: in this piece, book seven hasn't happened so this is the first time that Silver and Sebek are seeing fae eggs.

I'm trying out a hybrid style for this because it would be waaaay too long if I just typed it all in story form. Some story, some bullet points.

Not proofread. Need to give my eyes a break. Will review it later.

Malleus

The idea seemed positively strange to the Dragon Prince--people of your world treating sustenance as children? That didn't seem very productive of society at all! How were you to thrive as a species? What would a bag of flour do for you when you fell ill in old age? How could a potato assist you if you could not eat it?

Professor Crewel was also intrigued with the idea, so much so that he made it into an assignment. The puzzling introduction of your society's fondness for turning food into family quickly became a monologue on culturing fortitude, overcoming challenges, and assuring the class that this assignment met the 'general life skills' criteria expected of NRC and their excellent mages.

Crewel wouldn't admit it for anything less than a foolproof spell that could make Crowley competent, but he, Trein, and Vargas had bets on what the children would look like. They also had their preferred parents, of course. Given that he was the instructor of the class, he could pick as he pleased.

And he would. And he did.

He was very intrigued with the idea of fae offspring, as he had encountered (and rescued) only smaller species over the course of his potion-making career. Malleus was of impressive size and rare lineage so what would a baby version of him look like?

Like the rest of the class, Crewel was silent and stunned when the two of you stepped out of the summoning circle to see five shiny, pebbly eggs. The eggs were quite large and they had an iridescent sheen to them that could almost pass for a trick of the light. Upon closer inspection, the eggs had almost a geometric, scale-like pattern to them. Some spots thinner than others, giving a suggestion of something curled up inside.

Something warm and joyous roared in Malleus. A jolt of...something...struck deep at his core and all his nerves sang at once. Was this the parental instinct? He felt his eyesight sharpen, honing in on his clutch. His pointed ears flexed, somehow taking in the myriad of sounds around him to the point where he could tell Epel's nose was stuffed and Trey had a dry throat. Magic radiated off of him, sensed but unseen as it seeped into various objects around the room and things began to jump and float.

You picked up the nearest egg and he found it positively endearing. It was nearly as big as your torso! "We got eggs?" you were absolutely confused and held it out to him as if he could explain.

"Indeed! A fine bunch!" Malleus scooped up the other four and excused himself. The specks of green magic had just died when he returned with a basket woven from black briars. Humming and glittering with magic, Malleus gestured for you to put your egg in the vacant spot. The briar vines were alive, curling carefully around the other eggs--thorns facing out--and acting as individual holders.

Something in you said no and you weren't sure why. You just...didn't want to let it go. The egg seemed to pulse against you. "No," you shook your head as Malleus re-wove the briar vines to wrap around his body like some sort of vest, "my egg."

He let out a peal of laughter, head tilted back. Fae were nothing if not protective of their young. Dragon fae were a league above. Perhaps the eggs had cast an enchantment on their magicless parent? Or were his tendencies rubbing off on you? Either way, it was precious.

He'd want nothing less out of his partner.

Anything Crewel said was lost on Malleus, the future king looking over his shelled children as if they were the most precious jewels. His attention was recaptured by the sight of Deuce helping wrestle the assignment binder into your bag. Realizing this was the class that didn't have Lilia, Sebek, or Silver, he requested the class NOT breathe a word to the other Diasomnia students.

It was meant as a request but it came off as more of a decree. A command.

He wanted to give Lilia a proper scare. It was only fair, given his constant nagging and fretting over eggs. The old bat was more than due for a good startle.

"Come, Child of Man!"

You were surprised Malleus wanted to walk to Diasomnia instead of teleport. He explained that dragon eggs were nurtured by the same things that created them--magic and love. The basket was steadily infusing the eggs with his magic, strengthening the children aiding in proper growth. Teleporting may startle them and bursts of magic weren't really suitable for egg development. "So, wait, you love me?"

Your smile was teasing but no less beautiful to him. "Of course," he said with an honesty and ease that hinted at his sheltered upbringing, almost bewildered that you couldn't understand that yourself. "Ceaselessly. That's why Lilia separates us. It would be far too easy to make eggs. Advantageous, though. You can never have enough dragon fae!"

All you could do was blush. Malleus was quite happy with himself. The eggs wiggled and clattered softly against each other, their version of bouncing with delight. You were quite a fertile partner! It was rare enough to sire one egg every few hundred years but you had five!

If you became fae, how many clutches would you have? Malleus wanted a big family, personally. Perhaps one day a Draconia would rule each dorm at NRC! He at least wanted enough that no one felt sick trying to eat a birthday cake.

Malleus flung the door to Diasomnia open with enough force that it ricocheted off the stone, unable to control his strength in his excitement. "Behold, I have sired!"

Sebek was the only noticeable victim, midway through a sip of tea. He practically sucked the cup dry and began to choke. He didn't know whether to lean between his legs and let things drain or throw himself over the back of the couch and clear his throat. Lilia dropped his cup and saucer, tea spilling onto the couch and cup splintering on the floor as he took to beating Sebek on the back. The poor boy was basically being ground into the stone.

You wondered if Lilia looked terrified at the idea of Sebek choking or the sight of the eggs in the basket. His hair was more pointed than usual, seeming to float in distress. Silver had been jostled awake but couldn't quite understand what he was looking at.

These three didn't have potions until later on in the week so Malleus spoiled the lesson for them. Poor Lilia still looked like he wanted to have a heart attack. "We should tell Queen Maleficia."

"Perhaps when they hatch," Malleus was already looking for things to make a nest. It was imperative that his children were comfortable and guarded. You as well! He actually had the brilliant idea to build the nest with you at the center so the children could feel the love you emitted. Yes, you may be a different species and there would be many things to discuss about handling fae but he had no doubts of your capacity to love them.

Your nest was finished off with a fine, fluffy blanket that was surprisingly warm. Far warmer than it looked. "It is made of dragon scale," Malleus explained as he fanned it out over you and the clutch until he was satisfied, "we dragons can repurpose our shedding into things with magical properties."

"These blankets are usually familial gifts," Lilia added as he swept up the pieces of his broken cup. "They're handy for fighting the hibernation instincts when the colder months come."

"What if it's too warm for the kids?"

To hear you say the word 'kids' sent his stomach curling and churning in a way that left him oblivious to your worries. He's surprised a sixth egg didn't spawn, honestly.

What if they couldn't handle the heat as well since you were human? Wouldn't it, like, cook them?

"Fear not, my child of man. Draconias require heat, as we are a fire-breathing variant of dragon fae. They will be fine."

You hummed interestedly and resigned yourself to laying there for a while. It was weird to feel the eggs wiggling and pulsing around you. When you slipped out to grab your binder and see just what this assignment entailed, you were delighted to find Malleus almost stubbornly sticking himself under the blanket. It was for a constant infusion of magic, he said, but you were sure he just didn't want to leave the children alone. He looked obscenely happy to be around the eggs, squishing his lanky form down to touch all five.

The assignment was pretty basic---watch the kid (or kids) for a week and fill out some pages on height, weight, favorite activities, foods, and have them work on a few worksheets so Crewel could review their cognitive development. There were even spots to put handprints and footprints!

"How long do dragon fae even take to hatch?" you asked as you flipped through the assignment. "What if they're not hatched in a week?"

"It's an advanced spell so I'm sure the incubation process will be sped up, too." Lilia rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "But dragons hatch at different rates. There's a lot of factors involved."

"Which is why you should come back to the nest. Maybe they'll hatch faster if we're together." Malleus peeled back a corner of the blanket for you, eggs already clustered in his lap. You humored him, sliding back in and taking two of the eggs. The blanket was pooled around you now, eggs on full display. Silver and Sebek hovered at the edge of the nest, wanting to touch the eggs but a little hesitant.

"Only a little," Malleus cautioned them, his eyes bright. "I don't know if they would funnel your magic."

"Nonsense, my boy," Lilia returned with a thick book and tapped it on Malleus' head gently. "I held you plenty and I was fine. The eggs need to be exposed to all kinds." his clever ploy of handing Malleus a book of names in exchange for an egg almost cost him an arm.

"Instinct," Malleus apologized, letting go. His cheeks were tinged with pink.

"Likewise," Lilia gave him a cheeky smile, egg now cradled to his chest. He held it with both hands and bounced it a little. "This one might be a boy. Feels as heavy as you did!"

The book fell open to the 'M' section and you found it a bit curious. It was even weirder when you realized it fell open to MAL as if this section had been searched for a thousand times. "We Draconia have a tradition with our names," Malleus explained, pointing to his. "As followed by my mother," he pointed to 'Maleanor', "and her mother before her," he pointed to 'Maleficia'.

Thus began a discussion of names. Sebek and Silver were more than happy to give their input. They were quite handy in making sure the names weren't TOO weird. After hearing some of the ones that came out of Lilia's mouth, you could tell Silver was happy to get off with such a simple name. "I was actually thinking of renaming you at one point, you know," Lilia looked at the silver-haired boy, "too many people thought your name was too close to 'iron'. They thought you'd be unlucky."

"I like my name." Silver mumbled quietly.

After what felt like hours, you settled on five names: Malachite, Malum, Mallar, Malchus, and Malric. Lilia had picked up all the eggs and was convinced they were boys. You weren't sure how fae could judge gender from an egg, but he'd been around a lot longer than you. Malleus was so engrossed in the name exchange that he hadn't noticed Lilia sneaking the eggs off his lap to give them to Silver and Sebek. The sight of everyone holding an egg was sweet, you thought.

And realistic. If Malleus ever did have children, Silver, Sebek, and Lilia would be crucial in their lives.

The egg in your lap began to rattle. A deep crack formed at the top. Malleus quickly put it next to his. Three eggs hemmed the two. Hatchings usually happened together, you supposed, because the cracking of the first egg seemed to cause small cracks in the one next to it.

These little eggs were practically hatching in your lap and you were too scared, to in awe, to move them. You saw glimpses of wet scales, tiny horns, little claws, and maybe a tail before they started climbing out of the eggs. It was a very slimy affair. "A double! OH SEVENS, A DOUBLE!" Lilia practically inhaled a piece of eggshell when two little dragons climbed out of one egg. Malleus separated them gently, holding one each by their tender little bellies. He cooed at them.

"This one smells different," Malleus narrowed his eyes at the one in his right hand. Lilia gave it a cautious sniff.

"It's a girl!" Lilia, Sebek, and Malleus gave the others another smell in case the missed the gender. End result: five boys, one girl. 'Malin' was a maybe name that became a real one. Lilia ran off to tell Maleficia--somehow? You weren't sure how. Couldn't imagine a Queen having a cell phone--while the four of you started trying to get...claw prints...for the assignment.

Human babies, you had an idea of. Fussy when hungry, wet, and practically anything else but dragon babies were on a different level! You felt like you were wrestling a big cat! They were on the playful side, thankfully, but touching their claws and tiny pads earned gummy nips and a lot of writhing.

Silver was having the easiest time, somehow. Sebek had already been tail-slapped and gummed. A second dragon was climbing up his back and pawing at his hair. You had huffy, smoky protests and some scratches from the one in front of you; the other was currently chewing on your shirt and pulling at it. Malleus was locked in the growl version of a 'yes-no' as his dragon baby rolled every which way but onto the paper correctly.

This was going to be a long week.

Your week consisted of:

Trying to find a way to differentiate them. You tried painting their claws a certain color but that went as well as trying to get a print for the assignment. Tying cute little bandannas and things around their necks just caused a bunch of shredded mess to be cleaned up. You finally learned to tell them apart by the slight color difference in their bellies

Malric and Malin getting into fights consistently, tangling themselves into a big ball of scales and snarling and nipping at each other. The other three were usually a casualty. Malachite figured out he could separate them by flopping on top of them when they rolled by.

Malum was a biter and Mallar was a head-butter. When the twins turned on Malachite (as they often would), Mallar would come out of nowhere to headbutt Malric. You don't know how Malin escaped practically unscathed when she was literally half the problem. Malchus was your 'they're doing it again!' alarm child.

Lots of baby dragon ambushes. You're only holding ONE of them? HOW DARE YOU! You will soon find yourself besieged by baby dragons as they crawl over each other to cuddle and get attention. It doesn't matter what you were doing or holding before the onslaught.

Finding random piles of equally random things. Malleus says they're trying to build their hoard. Random 'hoards' you've found include: socks, silverware, pens, pencils, buttons, and several Diasomnia hats.

They learn to blow smoke at each other when they have their dragon arguments and it's not uncommon for windows to be opened to air Diasomnia out. Malleus is highly amused.

Zoomies at night. Because they're dragon fae, they're nocturnal and they don't understand you need to sleep. They usually sleep in a supervised pile in Malleus' room but will cause an UNGODLY amount of noise if they're not entertained.

They have cuddle piles when they sleep. Silver is main cuddle pillow. He's practically smothered by baby dragons but they all make these tiny, happy chirps when they nap with him. Sebek tried to wake Silver up and got three clouds of smoke blown at him all at once.

Taking them to NRC on Day 1 was a terrible, terrible idea. They were after anything that wasn't nailed down (for the hoard), wanted to climb everything, and would randomly squirm out of your arms to follow the students if something interested them. Idia about pissed himself when he noticed one had followed him to flying class.

Making it through a day of classes was almost impossible. Lilia, Sebek, and Malleus were constantly texting each other to do a kid count after Idia brought Malachite back. You didn't even know that Mallar had disappeared (you had Malin and Malum) until you heard about Sebek interrupting one of Cater's lives to snatch the baby dragon from him! After nearly giving Trein a heart attack and politely rescuing Lucius from Malin, the teachers agreed to make all of your assignments 'take home' until the kids were more...controllable.

You want to try socializing them again on Day 2 but Lilia insists they're still too feral and he doesn't want a repeat of Day 1. He has found immense joy in the laser light Idia gave him. It keeps him AND the kids occupied!

You and Malleus are doing constant kid counts. More than once you've only found five instead of six and Lilia is usually the culprit. Malchus is the number one victim.

They get their human form on day 3. You're not too hurt that they look like copies of Malleus. It's a spell and he's the one that has magic. He argues that some of the kids have your eye color, though. Malum has your hair color.

After Day 3, things get considerably easier. Feeding them is no longer a thing where you might have to write your will in advance. They're more open to trying things and quit trying to eat off of each other's plates like they'll never see food again. You think you see some sharing!

They speak in small sentences and prefer to point to things they want. Their favorite thing to do is to hang off of someone's shoulders (usually Malleus) and just guide them to what they want.

Malric likes spicy food, Malin prefers salty things, Malum is your unexpected sweets kid, Malchus devours all things citrus and sour, Malachite will eat a whole loaf of bread if you don't watch him, and Mallar is the pickiest eater.

Malum is your gentle cuddlebug

Mallar has physically fought Lilia over dinner because he didn't want to eat what Lilia cooked. He was the first one to breathe fire and almost burned Lilia's nose.

You measured the children for the assignment and was surprised to see that Malum was tallest. He spent so much time cuddled up to you that you didn't notice. Malachite is second-tallest, Malric just after him, with Malin and Mallar being tied for shortest.

Silver takes them on a walk through the woods every afternoon. He makes everyone hold hands. Malleus isn't far behind and usually steals one to ride on his shoulders.

Despite how loud he is, none of the kids really listen to Sebek. Malleus and Lilia make them listen. Malachite is the first to leave room when Sebek gets loud. Malin is most likely to comfort him and make an effort. She coaches him, to your surprise ("People would like you more if you weren't so loud.")

Lilia invites Baur over to see the children because he just has to brag. Something about the intimidating crocodile fae sends Mallar into a hissing, gouging mood and Baur is most amused. He play wrestles with them (as much as a stern-faced ex warrior plays) and thinks they'll make fine fighters one day.

Malin accidentally scratched a scale off of him and got a little worried. Baur and Lilia were in shock. "A fine princess! You'll take after your grandma one day!" Lilia smiled.

Day 4 is a visit from Queen Maleficia herself and you don't know what to think. The kids have all huddled around you--protecting you--as they assess this new dragon. You expected her to be much harsher, getting the anti-human warnings and all, but she's nicer than anticipated. The most she said to you was 'Impressive clutch size' but that counted, right?

Malchus, your favorite kitchen helper, caught what he thought was a look from her. One aimed at you. He looks her dead in her face and says, 'If you don't like them, I won't love you for a thousand years."

She laughed so hard you didn't know what to think. Neither did Lilia.

Queen Maleficia brought them little trinkets and snacks from Briar Valley. Their favorite thing was a back-scratcher. They sat at her feet for hours, just letting that rough weird brush go over them. The dragon vocals were in full swing and she answered them in dragon speak. She was impressed with how they helped Lilia set the table and had a good laugh at Mallar saying, "If you don't let Lilia cook I will love you for a thousand years."

It was an unexpected visit but it couldn't have gone too badly because there was no lightning involved (according to Lilia).

Day 5 saw you trying to integrate the kids into NRC. It went much smoother this time but there were still disappearances. And favorites.

Malin seemed to like hanging out with Jack and Trey the most and got in trouble more than once for trying to pick pieces of fur off of Crewel's coat.

Mallar liked Cater and Kalim; Mallar was actually one of the more outgoing kids.

Malchus found company with Epel and Jamil. He'd go on and on about how Epel talked funny and Jamil made the most delicious food ever.

Malachite thought Idia's hair was cool and wanted to know what all of his 'strange stuff' did. That discussion led to Rook butting in and saying how cool Science Club was, so Malachite ended up following Rook around to learn things after Idia's people battery was drained.

Malric was heavily influenced by Ace; the two had gotten in trouble for letting the flamingos out but he didn't care because he got to ride one. He promptly stole Riddle's tiny crown while the redhead attempted to lecture him and only gave it back after Malleus literally dragged him to the throne room of Heartslabyul and held him up by the back of his shirt like a sad puppy.

Malum liked to stick with Silver but was encouraged to get to know Riddle while learning to ride horses. The young dragon was impressed by what Riddle knew and asked him a million questions. Riddle suggested he get to know Azul, but Malum quickly decided that friendship was not for him. Azul smelled funny and he had an overwhelming urge to bite him. In the end, his favorite person on campus was Lucius (even though that doesn't count).

They wrote down who they hung out with, what they liked, and what they did for Crewel before taking their assessments.

The end of the assignment saw you and Malleus with an A; the kids were healthy and strong. Their assessments were all above average but Crewel could see that only Malachite and Malum actually tried. Malric did it because he was nagged, Malchus was told he'd sit there for however long it took (no interest whatsoever), and Malin did it with such disdain her papers were actually singed.

Before the kids disappeared, you were presented with a bunch of scales and shedding. It was heartwarming. Lilia did say the sheddings were familial, after all.

They disappeared in a puff of smoke and you let everything settle. You survived five days with dragons! That was impressive! As if he could read your mind, Malleus said, "Grandmother was impressed, too. She looks forward to her great-grandchildren coming around again."

[paulyenvol6]

Fine Line

This is a smutty one shot with Joel Miller x reader and it's based on this request. Very angsty and lots of dom!Joel with daddy vibes and subby reader. I had so much fun writing this so thank you so much for the amazing request and feel free to send me whatever you want me to write. Enjoy <3

Contains: smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, edging, orgasm denial, mentions of safe word, dubcon, daddy kink, dom and mean Joel, sub!reader, degrading, mentions of words like whore/bitch/slut, angst, anxiety, panic, fainting, having sex although the other person wants to stop, crying, aftercare, soft Joel in the end

Wordcount: ~6.41k

Masterlist

Joel was horny tonight.

You could see it in the way his lips were always slightly parted and his chest rose and fell more heavily than usual.

And he was simply more responsive to your arm that would brush against his side every now again or your hand against his chest. He had been like that the whole evening and now as you lay in his arms on the couch you couldn't help but think about the way you could take advantage of the situation.

When Joel was craving sex with you he was more willing to do you a favor just because he needed you so much that he didn't have the patience to think about what you were asking of him. And maybe, just maybe tonight could be one of those nights where you would be able to get exactly what you were yearning for.

It was clear to you that Joel was intiating sex when he wrapped an arm around your waist to press you to his center while covering your neck with sloppy kisses. He gently removed your hair to softly bite and mark your neck until you felt brave enough to come forward with your request.

"Joel?" you asked softly and he hummed against your skin. "Mhm?"

"I want you to be mean to me. Please."

It wasn't like the two of you were vanilla when it came to sex. You had tried a lot of different things that could be called kinky but Joel tended to be a little more careful with certain things than you were.

Your suspicion was that the reason for that was your age gap. You were in your early twenties after all and although he should really know how much you adored being with him and that you would never want to treat this life with him for a life with a younger man your age, you believed that he didn't love it because he didn't want to emphasize or increase the power imbalance between the two of you. Which you, quite frankly, hated.

Because he was so good at it that when you got your favourite freaky Joel you longed for him days after and begged him to be rough with you at any time of the day. Sometimes Joel played along to make you happy because that was what he was after at the end of the day but you always had a feeling that he felt bad after degrading you.

But now he chuckled and his hand became more firm on your stomach to hold you close to him.

"Ya want me to be mean? But you were such a good little kitten today, ain't that right?"

You gave him your biggest puppy eyes while turning in his lap so you could look at him.

"Please daddy. I want you to. I was good, yes, so please do me the favor."

Joel sighed and took your face in his hands. You loved when he did that, because his hands were so big that it felt like he was covering the whole side of your face.

"You want me to be mean to my favourite little pussy? That's gonna make me feel very bad, honey."

You were growing impatient now because you didn't know if Joel was simply teasing you or actually still considering treating you roughly tonight so you shifted in his lap rocking yourself against his crotch in order to get him hard.

"Ugh uh, babygirl," he growled at once and stopped you by placing his hands on your hips.

"If you want me to be hard on you, you're only gonna do what I tell you to do. That's your only task."

You had to surpress a proud smile because you finally had evoked the kind of Joel you needed right now. He was mocking you, treating you like you needed guidance with everything and would surely punish you if need be.

"I will. Please be hard on me, daddy, I need it."

He smirked and softly pulled at you bottom lip with his thumb.

"God…, will you look at that," he said with a husky voice and observed the way you lip snapped back.

"Such a silly girl. Beggin' me to treat you like shit when you usually ask for your sweet 'n nice daddy almost all the time."

He cupped your chin with his hand in order to observe you precisely and bit his lip at your sight.

"You want me to be mean? Then I'm gonna be really mean, baby. Gonna treat you like shit. S'this what ya want?"

Yes, that was what you wanted and you could already feel your pussy dripping at his words. Too stunned to speak you nodded determinedly but it wasn't enough for Joel.

"Words," he demanded and tapped against your bottom lip.

"I want it. Want you to be really mean."

He smirked and carefully, almost as if you were something fragile tilted your head in his hands. Then, within seconds he had grabbed your waist and moved the two of you over so you were on your back while he hovered over you. You let out a giggle which he instantly surpressed by pressing his lips on yours until you were left breathless.

"Joel," you murmured against his mouth and wrapped your arms around him.

You wanted to test him, provoke him to the point where he would snap and put you in your place. Perhaps he was aware of your strategy but he still played along.

"Hands to yourself," he whispered and pinned your wrists down over your head with one hand.

"Joel," you whispered again but now he seemed to have officially taken on his role because his eyes remained cold and indifferent.

"Do you have something to say? Otherwise you're gonna shut up unless I tell you to speak."

With a bubbly feeling in your belly you shook your head and waited for what he would do next. He watched you for a while like he was a predator taking in the view of his helpless victim in front of him and you almost started to feel so impatient that you wondered if you should ask him to go on when he finally moved his hands to your waist in order to tug at the fabric and pull it up.

He revealed your belly, thumb drawing circles over your skin and exposed your abdomen until the underside of your chest was bare under his gaze.

"Not wearin' a fuckin' bra? Jesus Christ…," he growled and you clenched your thighs at his husky voice.

"Please," you moaned already feeling so tense and full of accumulated pleasure that you needed him to finally touch you now.

"And she's already begging me like a pathetic bitch," Joel's sharp voice cut through the air leaving you big-eyed.

"I just know that if I didn't take such care of you you'd whore your way around the city spreadin' those pretty legs for every breathing creature. 'Cause you're a needy slut that can't ever get enough."

He squeezed your breast at his words which forced you to let out a gasp. For a moment you had to remind yourself that Joel didn't actually think that way about you but he was playing this role for you. He was just so good at it that you feared he would make you feel so little that you would start to believe his evil words.

Both his hands were now busy with kneading your breasts so roughly that the throbbing between your legs became more intense the longer he proceeded. You pressed your thighs together, a pathetic attempt to get rid of it but it didn't really work so you shifted your hips to search for his knee between your legs.

When Joel realized what you were doing he harshly opened your legs with his knee leaving you feel even more uncomfortable. His hand enclosed around your nipple which got him your attention and you submissively looked up to him.

"Stupid girl. Pissin' me off after begging me to be rough with you. You're gonna take all of it now, babygirl and I swear to god I'll ignore your crying or beggin' or complainin' 'n you can moan my name as often as you like, I'll keep going until I'm satisfied."

As much as you were looking forward to this promise you couldn't help but feel a little reluctant as well because you were familiar with his ways of torturing and teasing you and the prospect of spending the night pleading and begging him to finally give you what you wanted wasn't exactly comfortable. But you had asked for this after all. You loved it when he was mean to you and you knew it would be worth it.

A shiver rippled down your spine as you felt him twist your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger while he simultaneously kneaded your other breast. It was a fine line between pleasure and pain that he overstepped every now and which would then leave you breathless and with tears in your eyes when he pulled a little too hard on your nipple. Then you placed your hand on his but Joel merely snorted furiously and pushed you away.

"I said you're gonna take it. Without fuckin' annoyin' me. Stick those fingers into your mouth if you can't keep 'em to yourself."

You wavered, unsure whether this was a command or not but eventually you coiled your hands into fists and pressed them to your side while letting Joel use you the way he wanted. He really took his time tonight, exploring and stroking every inch of your body he could reach and when he finally removed his hands you expected him to unbuckle his belt but to your surprise he didn't. Instead he first pulled your shirt over your head so your upper body was finally completely bare and then his fingers came down to your jeans to open them.

"Joel," you whispered and licked away the sweat that had gathered above your top lip.

"Shut up and do as I say," he muttered fretfully while pulling the fabric down. "S'all I'm fuckin' asking of you, okay? Can you just obey me for once in your life?"

You nodded slowly your eyes brimming with a new wetness that hadn't been there before. No, no, no, you couldn't allow yourself to take his rough words to heart. This wasn't Joel, this was the kind of Joel you had wanted. You liked it and you wanted to get degraded by him because of the way it made you feel. You had been looking forward to this so much and you would stay focused. Joel didn't mean it and afterwards he would hold you and tell you how much he loved you. He was just playing. Acting.

You snapped back when he had taken your jeans off and watched your quaking hands with a mixture of arrogance and enjoyment.

"Open your mouth," he demanded while gripping your chin. Once you showed him your flat tongue he spitted into your mouth examining how his spit landed on your tongue and then tapped against your bottom lip.

"Swallow."

You did and opened your mouth for him again.

"Good girl." It was all he said but it made your heart flutter.

Then he made his way down your body, kissing and licking over your sore nipples and you recoiled every time his teeth sunk into your flesh.

"Please, Joel," you moaned at some point because you craved him so much that you felt like melting with him but he gave you an evil smile and lightly slapped the side of your ass.

"No. S'not about what you want. I'll take from you what I want and the more you beg me to do something the less likely it is that I'll do it."

Before you could even think about an answer you suddenly heard a ripping sound and then the cold air hit your bare pussy.

"Joel!" you complained staring at your torn underwear but he ignored you as he only had eyes for what waited between your legs for him. He didn't hesitate for a second now but just forcefully opened your thighs and then immediately slid a finger through your glistening folds. Then he collected some of your arousal and mockingly observed it.

"What's that, mhm? Was just playing with your tits a little and you're fuckin' soaked."

He chuckled darkly and brought his finger to your mouth. "Open. Clean it."

You had done similar things a hundres times before so you quickly confiled with the order and twirled your tongue around his digit as if it was his cock. Joel hummed with closed eyes and when you were done he pushed you down while crawling down again.

Every remaining amount of strength wilted when you saw the way he looked at your pussy and you were glad you got to lay on the couch. He then opened you up wider and moved your legs to rest on his shoulders. You couldn't allow yourself to feel the anticipation just yet because he was too mean to do this solely for your pleasure. You feared that he would change his mind in the last second so you anxiously watched his every move and almost choked on your breath when you felt his thumb brushing over your clit.

"S'right. Let it out I wanna hear it all," he hummed contently while rubbing you in small circles.

You couldn't believe he was actually doing this after having talked you down like this but your mind was too clouded anyway to question his actions.

His hands lingered at your core a little longer until he moved them up to your hips while lowering his head down to your pussy. He inhaled deeply taking in your scent and then connected his tongue with your clit which made you whine out almost painfully.

If there was one thing you could never get enough of in your life, it was him eating your pussy. It was simply… perfect. His beard grazing over your skin, his soft and warm tongue on your clit and the way he lapped up your wetness as if he was a man starving.

"Fuck, Joel, fuck…," you moaned your toes curling at the insane feelings he evoked in you.

His tongue drew patterns over your clit and you were almost sure that they were letters but you were too caught up in pleasure to concentrate on it.

And you were definitely too exhausted to work out why he was giving you so much pleasure after you had begged him to be mean. Because you definitely didn't mind and didn't want to do anything that could make him stop.

Joel now brushed over the underside of your clit with his pointed tongue and you shuddered beneath him your hands gripping his muscular arms. And when he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of you you couldn't help but grind against him. The moment he noticed he stopped licking you and raised his head.

"No," he spoke his face expressionless and buried his hand into the flesh of your ass. "One more time and I'll stop."

Joel dived between your thighs again while his left hand splayed across your stomach to apply light pressure that added to the pleasure you received from his mouth and his finger inside of you. Your fingers were buried in the cushions now too scared to touch him and perhaps anger him further but when he sucked your clit into his mouth a cry left your mouth and you pressed your nails into your own thighs in order to handle the intensity of his touch.

"Please. Fuck, Joel, it's so fucking good," you whimpered and wished he would answer you the way he usually did.

It was like he wasn't even present, he just ate your pussy like his life depended on it while ignoring you utterly. You couldn't even swear that he enjoyed it.

"Joel," you whispered again hoping that he might answer you but he didn't even look at you.

He just scissored you open while toying with your swollen clit but when you felt yourself getting closer to coming his eyes finally found your face again. He inspected you for a moment and then suddenly stopped. Your legs immediately searched for his body trying to trap him between them while your mind panicked.

"N-No, no, Joel, what are you doing. I was just about to come!"

"I know babygirl," he whispered running a hand over your sweaty hair while watching you almost lovingly.

"Please, I wanna come, I – "

"I know you do, sugar. But I don't care."

He rolled your nipple between his fingers again while you still tried to fight the confusion in your head. "Please, I –"

Your voice broke and your trembling hands gripped the fabric of his shirt.

"Save your breath, darlin'," he whispered against your ear before sliding a hand down between your legs.

With a clear plan in mind Joel started to rub your aching clit again only that this time he seemed even more determined. He went clockwise just the way you liked it and used your wetness as lubrication. You sniffed twice unsure of whether this was a good or a bad thing but soon you were so overtaken by enjoyment again that all you could perceive was his body and the hand on your pussy.

Your hand held his shirt while your face was buried in his neck and he let it happen. His heart was beating fast and you enjoyed the closeness so much that for a second you forgot about your frustration. That was until he denied your orgasm the second time tonight and this time you pushed him away in order to escape his touch.

"You asshole," you cried and tried to kick him with your feet.

Quickly he advanced towards you captured your wrists in his hand and yanked your head back by your hair.

"You were the one begging me like a fuckin' whore to be rough with you. You don't like what I'm doing? Mhm?" he mocked you while moving you to lay on your back again. You shook your head biting down on your shaking lip.

"Well I don't care 'cause you asked me to be mean. If you don't like it don't ask me next time. But now don't you fuckin' dare complain again."

You were still busy flashing your eyes at him which was why you let out a loud gasp when you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance and then he was suddenly inside of you. You hadn't noticed him unbuckling his belt and neither had you realized how he had pulled down his jeans and boxers.

You were dripping with arousal so you had no problems taking him and yet it had come so surprisingly that you tightly clenched around him which provoked a loud growl from him.

"Jesus…. So goddamn tight."

His left hand came down to cradle the side of your face while his right bent your leg back in order to reach deeper inside of you with each thrust. He hadn't given you a lot of time to adjust and just pounded your pussy mercilessly like there was no tomorrow.

"That's right," he mumbled his eyes on your face while you had problems keeping yours open.

"Atta girl. Nice 'n open for daddy…"

But when you buckled your hips in order to move accordingly to his thrusts his eyes darkened and he squeezed your throat as a punishment.

"I said none of that," he hissed emphasizing every word as if you were a little child that couldn't comprehend the simplest instructions.

"Stay fuckin' still or you're gonna get that l'il ass of you fucked. Would you like that? Huh?"

You shook your head and made a mental note to really do as he had told you now because you suddenly didn't feel like infuriating him any more.

Perhaps you had overestimated yourself a little or hadn't actually been ready to take all of him in this kind of state because all you suddenly craved was your loving Joel. The one who would press his face into your neck now to smell your hair. The one who would trace your collarbone with his finger or kiss your nipples. The one who would tell you how much he loved you and that he would never leave his babygirl.

"Joel," you moaned as if you were able to make him change his mind just by saying his name.

Of course he ignored you and unrestrainedly fucked your hole while panting loudly. Suddenly you were hyper-aware of so many things that you hadn't even noticed earlier. The way you were completely naked underneath him while he was still fully dressed except for his pulled-down jeans. It made you feel so vulnerable and pathetic suddenly that tears welled in your eyes.

And the way he pressed down on your tummy not only to make you stay in place but to show him how deep he reached inside of you. You felt used. Dirty. What you needed right now was to get some distance between him and you but there was no way Joel would let you off this easily.

"Joel," you cried looking up to him while tugging at his shirt but he had his eyes closed and his head thrown back.

In addition to your mental discomfort his cock thrusting in you had started to hurt as well which was due to the way you tightened around him. But while Joel thought the reason was that you were close, in truth your body rejected the intrusion and therefore he bruised your insides every time he hit your cervix while he felt like his cock was being torn off by your clenched walls.

"Mhmm, yes, sweet girl. Takin' me so fuckin' well. You're gonna make daddy come like this. Is that what you want?"

Once he had spoken these last words he suddenly pulled out which came so unexpectant that you widened your eyes and he then manhandled you on your stomach. Before you could understand what had happened Joel had adjusted you on your knees and pushed back inside of you taking you from behind.

You let out a cry that was muffled by the cushion your head rested against and as much as you hated to even just have this thought, you wished that he would finally stop. You couldn't uphold your facade any longer, your pussy burned, your head felt dizzy and you didn't want him to touch and treat you like this any longer.

Fuck your pride, you would ask him to stop even if it meant that he would never be rough with you again. Even if it meant that he would beat himself up afterwards thinking that he had hurt you. You would explain it to him. He hadn't done anything wrong, you just hadn't been strong enough to handle it tonight.

"J-Joel," you said a little louder your voice shaking so much that he raised his eyebrows.

"What," he hissed dangerously.

You whimpered every time his hips snapped forward pushing you deeper into the couch which made it difficult to speak but eventually you managed to press out what you wanted to say.

"P-Please, s-stop," you whined and at first you weren't certain if he had heard you. But then you felt a hand snatching your waist and he pulled up your weak body so your back was pressed to his chest. His big hand kneaded your breast while your nails scratched over his arm gesturing him that this was serious.

"I told you, babygirl. I said I wouldn't stop no matter how much you'll cry. And I won't. It hurts, doesn't it?"

A sob went past your lips and you could only nod.

"Mhmm too bad. It's supposed to hurt you, babygirl. 'Cause we ain't doin' this for you right now. We're doin' this for daddy 'n you're gonna give your body to daddy so he's gonna feel real good while you look pretty for him, mhm? How does that sound?"

He watched the side of your face while holding you tightly by wrapping his arms around your stomach and breasts, sensing how weak you were on your knees.

"I wanna hear your fuckin' voice," he breathed and spanked your left breast.

"Y-Yes," you cried, nothing but jelly in his arms and dropped your head to your chest.

"Good," he murmured through grinded teeth and kissed the back of your head. Before you were able to form another word of resistance in your head he had moved his hand to your throat to squeeze it lightly cutting off your air supply which turned out to be even worse for you physical state.

"Already fucked your brains out, huh?" he commented your mindless condition while gliding his hand between your legs to find your clit. You almost didn't notice it though, feeling numb and disconnected to your body, yet strangely being super aware of the way he hurt you with each thrust.

When you let out a croaked cry he perhaps realized that you really were in need of fresh air so he dropped you like he had suddenly changed his mind about you and you fell on your stomach again. At this point you were too powerless to even hold yourself up on your knees and luckily Joel allowed you to lay on your front.

Panic flooded your system again because you were sure you wouldn't be able to keep this up until he would come. You couldn't properly breathe and you really needed some water and a moment of peace to collect yourself. Your limbs were hurting, your tummy was aching and your mental discomfort only added to everything.

You loved Joel with all your heart and would never want anything about your relationship to change but right now he made you feel like you were being violated. Like you couldn't make him stop even if you wanted him to. Like you were his victim rather than his girlfriend.

There was only one thing left you could try. Your safe word.

You just had to bring the word out and make him hear you and then he would see the seriousness of the situation, hug you and comfort you.

You opened your mouth but no sound besides your whimpers left it and you squeezed your hands in fists forcing yourself to move your tongue.

"Rrr," you made and cursed yourself for not being able to form a word that was as easy to pronounce as 'red'. You clung to the couch as if it would clear your head and tried again.

"R-Red…," you said but weren't sure if it was actually comprehendable.

"J-Joel," you sobbed because why wouldn't he stop? You had said it, you had said the word you had hoped would never leave your mouth when Joel and you had thought of a safe word.

"R-Red," you whispered again as if it was a mantra but his pounding didn't stop. He fucked your pussy chasing his release with so much focus that he seemingly didn't hear your mumbling. You had to get the cushion out of the way in order to sound clearer but he pressed your face into the pillow and so your mobility was strongly limited.

You writhed under his grip so frustrated and devasteted now that you thought about giving up and just waiting until he had finished. And yet you repeated the safe word over and over again although you were not sure if you actually said it out loud every time or if it just happened in your head.

And then you passed out.

~~~~~~~~~~

Joel actually hadn't noticed any of your discomfort.

Of course he had noticed how submissive and weak you were and as much as he wished he could soothe you a little, he had promised you to be rough with you and that was what he intended to do now.

So no caressing your bare shoulder or taking your hand and instead fucking you at a punishing pace.

After he had dropped you down on your stomach again his hands dug into your hips keeping your in place for him while he bit his bottom lip at the sight of you. Your tousled hair and your pretty back that was so beautifully bent were mesmerizing and he couldn't help himself and took a handful of your hair to push your face into the cushion.

He heard you mumble something every now and then but he was truthfully too concentrated and distracted by your perfect cunt that hugged him so perfectly that he didn't pay any attention to it. He used your pussy for his enjoyment, felt how your walls fluttered around him, watched your sexy figure splayed out for him until he was eventually sent over the edge and came with a loud growl.

"Oh Jesus Christ," he moaned feeling his cum leaving his tip and filling you to the brim.

"That's a good girl," he whispered out of breath and pushed inside of you a few more times until he was sure his cum would stay inside of you.

He sighed loudly, pulled out of you and then slowly felt his mind getting to work again. He knelt down on the couch next to you and lowered himself to your head. With a lot more gentleness in his touch now he stroked your hair to the side to kiss the side of your face.

"Honey," he whispered and when he saw your closed eyes he frowned. "Baby?"

When he didn't get a reaction his blood started to pump and he saw red. New drops of sweat started to form on his forehead and his hands began to tremble. He was too full of panic now to have a straight thought and quickly pulled up your lifeless body and turned you on your back.

"Y/n, honey, come back to me," he stammered and held your face in his hands. 'What had he done??' Joel cursed to himself and ran his thumb over the area under your eyes. He stared at you, watched you with a cold numbness inside until he heard a moan.

"Y/n?" he asked his voice barely more than a breath and saw your lips move. Infinite happiness and luck washed over him that made him tear up as you blinked with your eyes a few times. Joel enclosed your hand with his and covered it with kisses while observing you with relief.

"How are you, baby?" he whispered and your pupils finally found his face.

"W-What happened?" you asked too weak to sit up straight.

"I-I think you fainted, honey. I-I… I'm so fuckin' sorry, baby, I…. I'm sorry, I was so stupid 'n I didn't notice that you were feelin' unwell, fuck, baby, I…"

He pressed your hand to his forehead and shook his head over and over again while you tried to remember what had happened.

"Are you thirsty? Hungry? Do you need anything?" Joel asked while watching you worriedly.

"Water," was all you managed to say with your weak voice and he immediately jumped to his feet to fetch you a glas of water. He assisted you and helped your shaky hands to bring the glas to your lip and then you emptied it with one sip. Then he put it on the couch table and caressed your cheek with his big thumb.

"Y/n," he rasped. "Please talk to me. I need to hear your voice."

You glanced at him still feeling shocked about the fact that you had actually fainted during sex but answered Joel.

"I can't remember everything. But I-I know that I was in pain."

His eyes had never looked sadder and a part of you instantly regretted telling him.

"I'm so sorry, babygirl. I can't believe that-that this happened."

His arms reached down to wrap around your shoulders and he pulled you into a careful hug almost as if he was scared he would break you. He gently pressed your head to his chest and you felt so wonderfully embraced by him that you closed your eyes getting fully lost in his strong arms and the warmth of his body. The hug filled you with fresh energy and when he helped you lay down again you felt strong enough to talk about more details of what had just happened.

"I think everything was too much. I know I said that I wanted you to be mean and I did, I really did earlier b-but… but I think it became too much and I felt so odd and-and used and I don't know, I… I didn't want it anymore and then my body reacted differently and it hurt."

He didn't answer you but you could see his eyes' reaction to every single one of your words. And you knew what was going on behind his forehead at the moment. He was beating himself up, punishing himself with his thoughts and telling himself that he was too bad of a human being to be with you. This time it was you who took his hand and you pulled it to your chest.

"I don't want you to be mad at yourself, Joel. Really. This isn't your fault and you have to believe me."

He swiftly freed his hand and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Don't you comfort me now, y/n. We're not gonna play this game."

Joel watched you for a moment like he was thinking and then searched the room.

"I'll bring you your clothes. You must be cold."

He didn't even wait for an answer and picked up your underwear, shirt and jeans and put every item on you with so much gentleness that tears gathered in the corner of your eyes again. When he was done he sat with his back against the backrest of the couch and pulled you in his lap his hand cradling the back of your head.

"I'm sorry, honey. I really am. I swear to god, I wish I could go back in time and just hit myself 'cause I was so fuckin' stupid not noticing how you were feeling 'n I'm really really sorry."

He spoke so quietly because these words were only meant for you and you unconsciously closed your eyes at the tenderness and intimacy of his voice.

"I know," you replied and held on to his broad shoulder, anything to feel more of him. "And I know you don't wanna hear it, but it's okay. I'm fine."

You felt him caressing your back and then he turned your a little so he could look at your face.

"Did you remember our safe word? You know that I'm always gonna stop when you say red."

He sounded so concerned that your heart already broke at what you had to tell him next but you wouldn't lie to him and so you watched him with eyes round as coins.

"I-I… I did. I said it but it was too quiet and you didn't hear."

His head dropped and you heard him inhale deeply.

"Fuck…," was all he whispered and you felt the urge to hold him firmly and tell him that you forgave him but it wasn't what he wanted right now and so you just enjoyed the closeness of his body while listening to his heavy panting. He needed a few minutes to collect himself but once he had he pressed yet another kiss to your brow.

"I'm sorry," he pressed clearly close to tears and you nodded. And you meant it. You weren't angry at him because it had been you who had asked him to treat you this way. And yes, he should've stopped once he had heard the safe word out of your mouth but he hadn't and so there was nothing you could blame him for. This whole mess had been painful and you definitely didn't want to go through something similar again but neither of you was responsible for it.

"I love you, Joel," you whispered hoping that it would perhaps calm him a little but he shook his head in disbelief.

"Don't say that, right now…"

"But I do. I love you so much and I'm not angry at you. You didn't hear me, how were you supposed to know that something was wrong?"

Joel shook his head again and chewed on his bottom lip.

"I should've paid attention to you more. And listen to you more closely, why do we have a safe word if I don't fucking listen to you?"

He threw his head back and bit his lower lip which looked so painful that you feared it would start to bleed soon.

"Joel. It happened and it's not ideal but I'm okay. Next time if something like this ever happens again you'll listen more carefully and then everything will be fine. We'll learn from it."

"I'll learn from it," he corrected and you rolled your eyes.

"Okay. But please don't beat yourself up now. As I said, I don't blame you and this was just a huge miscommunication."

He looked like he was thinking and put his thumb to his lower lip.

"Baby…," he breathed watching you with so much love in his eyes that you couldn't hide a little smile and Joel tightened his arms around you.

"I love you so much. It's just… You know I just hate to know that I hurt you. You deserve so much better, honey, I –" You quickly interrupted him by pressing your finger against his lips which made him stop  talking.

"Don't finish that sentence, Joel. How many times do you want me to say it? I want you. And I'm gonna want you for the rest of my life and this stupid thing doesn't change anything about this fact. Kiss me now."

He sighed and tilted his head but you needed him now and so you determindely grabbed the side of his face.

"Kiss me Joel. Please."

Of course he wouldn't make you beg for a kiss and so he leaned towards you and locked your lips. You smiled against his mouth your hands holding on to his shoulders and when he pulled back your cheeks were flushed.

"I love you."

He sighed and looked down.

"I love you, Joel," you repeated strictly and now a small chuckle left his mouth.

"I love you too, y/n. More than you can ever know."

You smiled brightly and rested with your back against his upper body.

"Then I guess everything will be fine."

[thedeadtalker]

-my grandfather was 8 when he and his family were rounded up on the Oregon coast, kept in a livestock pen for 3 very rainy days, then put into a cattle car to be carried out to the reservations in the east.

-my grandmother had two brothers and sister who were sent to mission school and never returned. They said they ran away. They lied.

-My mom remembers when Indians got enough citizenship to vote in Oregon. She describes her parents and their friends discussing if the should do it -vote -or if it was trick to register them.

-My friend took his grandmother out for her 100th birthday. He asked her what she thought were the most important things to happen during her lifetime. She told him: free wifi and the legal end of segregation.

-I remember those fucking nuns in mission school. I only went 1 year when the laws changed and we could go to other schools. We could live with our parents and ride a bus to school and back again and sleep that night in our own home. I remember that, you fuckers.

-I remember that my mom and two of her sisters gave birth in a hospital connected to the mission, and they didnt know for years that they'd gotten botched steralizations against their wishes and without their knowledge. I remember my parents desperatly trying to have more children. Theyd always wanted a bunch of kids. The house my dad built had many empty guestrooms. Eventually they sold it. I remember my mom having to have a hysterectomy 2 years ago because of all the health problems caused by the fucked up surgery. I remember sitting in a meeting and one of the nurses there having to put me through a fainting protocol because i got a text from my stepfather that during the hysterectomy they discovered one of mom's damned ovaries was just fucking gone. I wonder sometimes if some sick fuck retired doctor kept a genuine Indian ovary in a jar in his office. I wonder if his nazi kids and grandkids pull it out to show to guests as a conversation point. I think about how whites were paid piecework for Indian scalps amd seeing one dried out and leathery in an antique store in a small town in Idaho. There is evil in the Americas. The nazis were here long before they were ever in Europe.

- I remember my highschool history teacher showing us the number tattooed on his wrist. I remember him showing us all these recordings of ordinary German citizens talking about how they didn't see anything wrong happening. How there must have been some sort of perfecrly mundane reason for the endless smoke pouring from the ovens in the camp up in the hill. How it was all just politics. How they were reassured that all the people who were taken had just moved in the night, or were much happier wherever they'd gone to. "But you saw them all: the Jews, the other prisoners going into the camp. But you never saw them leave. Didn't you think that was odd?" "We just figured they'd moved from the camp in the night while we were sleeping." "Where?" "What do you mean?" "Where did you all think they went -in the middle of the night?" "Oh. We didn't know." "Didn't you wonder?" "Why would we?"

- I remember that same teacher explaining how the nazis had gotten a lot of their ideas from the US government's Native American policy. The death camps were modelled after our reservations. The dehumanizing and the stories of savages/gremlins that ate white babies and were less than human were based on the clever marketing campaign set up to not just enable the settler take over, but used to unite the fragmented people of newly forming colonial nation. He fucking showed us. There is publically available documentation of all of this.

-I remember getting put on the no fly list. I remember finding out about it because when we tried to buy tickets for the whole family to travel down to New Mexico for my granduncle's funeral the whole purchase was bounced. We were told why that might be the case so we tried seperate purchases for everyone. Me. It was me. Several years later my roommate's family friend -an old white guy with some pull, found out why. I was teaching K-3 and moonlighting as a computer programmer back then. And I'd printed some photos of holidays around the world to share with my students on the same computer I wrote code from. My own computer, in my own office, in my own home. He said it also didn't help that I wasn't white.

-I remember that fucker's first time in office: I remember seeing my coworker snatched from the elevator by ice agents and shoved into an unmarked van. He was a 3rd generation American.

-I remember having to warn the non-white, non-abled, non anything a nazi would want to gas you for residents of the dvsat shelter we worked with to not go out at night, not go out alone, not walk on these specific streets or go into these specific shops. I remember the time a native Hawaiian chick on my caseload didn't come back when expected and everyone was out of their mind with worry. She came back, tear-streaked and shaking, and told us about how she'd gotten lost (not in Hawaii any more, Dorothy) and ended up in one of the neighborhoods she was supposed to avoid, and being chased by some of the proud boys that patrolled our city streets in their ridiculous be-flagged pickups, and how some nearby restuarant diners had rushed her into the restuarant, and the staff there had hid her in the pantry, and all the diners lied and said they hadn't seen her. My teacher read Anne Frank to us in 6th grade. Do they still read that in schools?

-I think about that time I went into a DMV and the woman behind the counter told me to "sit over there," next to two men, and well away from the other patrons. Then a highway patrol officer came over and told us to go with him. In the parking lot he explained that he'd been called to take us to an immigration detention center. But instead he directed us to a "safe" DMV 40 miles away and walked away muttering about having had it up to here with those idiots in there. The two American Samoan men started laughing. Honestly, I didn't feel like laughing. I didn't feel like anything. I was thinking about the mission school and wondering if the detention center looked like it had.

-I've spent the last couple of weeks handing out flyers in different languages. I don't use an interpreter. I have no way of knowing if I can trust them. But somehow I manage to convey to the people I visit in field hand huts and steamy laundries that they are in a sanctuary state and what that means. That no one in our offices will turn them away or turn them in. At least I hope Im conveying that. Then I tell them, using paper language dictionaries if needed (librarians are superheros) how to get away, who to talk to, how to find the big dipper. I think a lot of my high school history teacher and those faded numbers on his wrist.

Oh I know they're coming for me first. Im your canary.

[ablobwhowrites]

I really love your New home sweet home au and I really want to see the toys taking care of Y/N since he’s has a fever :

Like one day, Y/N comes back from work and sees the toys in the living room and then he says something and passes out due to the fever. And the toys taking care of him since he saved them.

Everyone thinks y/n just died. Until dog day just found out they just have a fever. All it was is a cold and basically the only ones who kinda know how to help with a cold is the smiling critters and miss delight. They basically try and take care of y/n because they kinda know what their doing as miss delight knows how colds work as she's a teacher and knows basics of human anatomy and a lot of other stuff because well she was made to be a teacher back in playcare so that's what she had kept in here memory.

Yarnaby isn't allowed to be in the room with y/n because the moment he is, he's hopping onto the bed and laying down with y/n and may even get yarnaby sick. So yarnaby kinda sits at the door of y/n's room, doey every 5 minutes goes up to check on y/n as luckily he can stretch his neck and arms to get to y/n. Because once he went to the second floor and ended up nearly breaking through it but luckily didn't. He's like 900 pounds of dough so that pretty heavy but he can go upstairs for a little bit but not for long. But he tries and always checks up on y/n and poor dude is worried cause so many toys in the safe haven got sick sometimes and Doey was so worried for them the whole time.

Mommy long legs basically looking through cook books and cook books for something that y/n could eat without having to throw up or just having something easy for the stomach. The doctor, he thinks this worrying is just idiotic as he knows y/n will get better but still, Harley does make sure y/n is living and breathing. And the bunzo comes up into y/n's room to kinda talk about random things to keep y/n entertained and not bored but bunzo ended up talking about a random green spring he found and the newest episode of a show. Boogie bot is kinda the only one who kinda takes y/n's temperature, gives medicine and other stuff and all because it's hard to get a robot sick plus dog day and Doey are genuinely tweaking because they are in the safe haven mind set thinking that there is no medicine and stuff like that.

But after y/n feels healthy again. The toys are relieved and Harley is relieved as well because he wants to keep his room and bro is not willing to give up this nice ass house life. Also yarnaby goes back to sleeping in y/n's room again after y/n gets better. As soon is catnap in his smaller form as it helps him keep a eye on y/n and also to sleep more peacefully than hearing KickinChicken snore for the whole night.

(thats it for my yap session, hopefully my writing is getting slightly better but If you like that please don't feel shy and request any ideas for stories or anything. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[sematarygirls]

 📖 ─── a cluttered scrapbook: send in any thoughts on any of the characters below for a blurb .ᐟ

omg hello congratulations??? literally love your blog sm. you’re writing is peak and so perf. i was thinking, we all know rafe is a “proactive” type of person (or so he says). so how would he react to reader giving him the silent treatment after she found out something? (maybe he was doing cocaine again after she explicitly asked him not to anymore???) and what antics would he use to get reader talking to him??

once again, congratulations to you. you deserve so much!!! so proud of you <3333

thank you so much !! i'm so sorry it took so long to get to this </3

cw: dark rafe, manipulation, controlling behavior, threats of self harm

Rafe hates the silent treatment. It feels like a slap in the face. After everything he's done for you, you can't even give him the basic respect of talking things out?

He had done a great job of hiding his ongoing cocaine addiction after you'd threatened to break up with him if he didn't stop. He absolutely couldn't stand ultimatums, being backed into a corner, but he also couldn't lose you, so he promised he would quit and get clean, even pretending to go off to a rehab facility for a month—during which he was actually going on a month-long bender in a fancy hotel up in California.

And his lies had worked. For months, he hid his addiction, leading you to believe that he was finally clean and that he had done it for you.

But then, you dropped your phone one night at his house, and it had found its way under his bed. Leaning down to retrieve it, you pushed up the bottom of his comforter and found yourself greeted by the sight of a wooden box you'd seen before—the very one you had watched Rafe throw away before he went off to "rehab".

With shaky hands, you opened the box and found yourself staring at a baggie of white powder, a substance you knew all too well.

"What are you doing?" Rafe's voice came from the doorway, sharp and defensive. He knew he had been caught, but his mind was already swirling with blame for you rather than accepting the consequences of his own actions. Why were you snooping around his room? Did you not trust him?

You looked up at him, your mind running a million miles a minute as a plethora of emotions overwhelmed you at once. You didn't want to talk to him. You could barely even stomach looking at him right now, so without a word, you grabbed your phone from where it had fallen and stood up abruptly.

He caught your arm as you tried to leave. "Oh, we're doing this now? Real mature," he scoffed at your behavior. You were being dramatic, childish even, by subjecting him to the silent treatment instead of trying to talk this out like adults.

You simply pulled your arm back from him roughly, not meeting his gaze as you pushed past him and hurried down the stairs. He should've followed you, but his pride and ego stopped him. You would come crawling back, apologizing for how you acted. He was sure of it.

But, you didn't. Days went by without a word, and he started to get antsy, started to spiral as paranoia overtook him. You were his. How dare you ignore him? Were you off with another guy? Were you with your awful Pogue friends? He couldn't stand not knowing where you were and having you with him every minute.

At first, he tried to manipulate his way out of it by feigning an apology and ending it with a guilt trip, texting you things like "Okay, I messed up, but you just shutting me out? That's fucked up. Just talk to me, baby," and "It's not like I was doing it all the time. I mean, cmon, are you really gonna throw everything away over this? It's nothing."

When you refused to be won over so easily, seeing right through his tactics, he would start showing up wherever you were—home, work, the beach, anywhere you were, he was there too, desperately trying to intimidate you into talking to him with his piercing gaze and menacing stance.

He would corner you, trying to force a reaction out of you. "So what, you're just going to act like I don't exist?" He'd ask harshly before softening, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his knuckle lightly grazing your cheek as he did. "C'mon, baby, I know you miss me, miss us." He could see the resolve in your eyes crumbling and it made him feel powerful and triumphant, but before you opened your mouth to speak, Kiara swept in, grabbing your arm and tugging you away from Rafe as she shot a glare in his direction.

This infuriated Rafe. Typical Pogue, always sticking their nose where it doesn't belong and fucking up his life.

From there, he attempted sending you expensive gifts with notes like "Just talk to me, baby. Let me fix this," and when that didn't work, he turned to threats, saying he would hurt himself or you if you didn't hear him out.

Finally, he showed up to your house in the middle of the night, his eyes bloodshot and puffy, pupils dilated. You hesitated but decided to open the door, and when you did, you felt guilty for ignoring him for so long. He looked absolutely wrecked like he hadn't eaten or slept in days. He was clenching and unclenching his jaw, leaning against the doorframe and peering down at you. His presence was heavy, the air thick with tension as neither of you spoke.

"Let me in," he demanded. His fingers twitched at his sides before he rubbed them over his jaw. "I just—fuck, I don’t even know what to do anymore, baby." His large frame blocked the doorway, making you feel small as his eyes darted wildly. You felt a mix of guilt and fear stir in your stomach. "You’re just gonna keep pretending I don’t exist? Really?" His voice dropped lower, rougher. "’Cause if you don’t talk to me now, I swear to God, I’ll—" He stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he stared at you with hardened eyes, the threat clear. You knew he meant it.

"Rafe..." You said quietly, your voice trembling slightly as you looked up at him with wide eyes, feeling like you were looking at someone you didn't recognize.

His lips quirked up in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “That’s all I needed, baby. Just needed to hear your voice," he whispered, stepping forward to invade your space and force you backward so he could come inside. "Y'know, I'd do anything for you, right?" He asked, the question rhetorical as he reached out to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "I’ve been losing my fucking mind without you. I won't lose you. I can't lose you, alright? I-I need you. You're mine, you got that? You can't just walk away. You can't just ignore me. I won't let you."

[dcxdpdabbles]

#holiday request Hi, I love your writing! Could you please update either "Danny's grill", "Congratulations! It's Triplets!" or "Phantom's number 1 fan"? Please and thank you

Jason is once again reviewing the map of potential areas Alvin could have been operating in when his burner phone rings. He snatches it up before it can pass the fourth ring, pressing it gently against his ear.

He offers no greeting. It's a tactic he uses to ensure that whoever is calling him has permission to do so. If someone attempts to conform his informants' and allies connection with him, Jason is not about to give them away by speaking first.

"Hey Boss," Honeycomb's voice filters through, edged by that familiar overdramatic southern draw she did when working. Apparently, the clients like listening to her use her accent. "I got eyes on that doll you've been searching for."

Jason sits up straighter. "Where and when?"

Honeycomb is one of the working girls who's been with him since his return to Gotham. She was the first to sign up for his protection, long before he did the whole heads in a duffle bag thing, and was one of his best eyes and ears on the street in exchange.

He didn't know her real name or age- but he was sure she wasn't underage. He made it clear he wouldn't allow it. All Jason knew about Honeycomb was that she had run away from her home in the southern states with nothing but her pretty face, blond curls, hazel eyes, and the clothes on her back.

She was feisty and could charm her way out of most problems with her silver tongue. Her manipulation of her clients was almost an art form, and she could get any information out of anyone with a well-placed hand on the air and a sweet little "darling" on her grubby lips. He often thought she would have been a lawyer if life had been fair to her.

"Just now, on Ruby Street. He was with a man in his late teenage to early twenties. About six feet five inches, black hair, blue eyes, and Caucasian. Alvin was wearing black tights and a red hoodie. The man is in jeans and a white zip-up." Honeycomb rattles in one smooth report, the huskiness of her accent making her articulation more pleasant to the ear. "Seems they were doing a photo shoot."

Jason is already moving towards his bike, switching her call to his helmet. His stomach turns slightly as he grunts, "What kind of photoshoot?"

"Not that kind, Darling. Seemed more like a scavenger hunt, according to Alvin. They are finding specific landscapes and making posses that are answers to some riddles." Honeycomb responds. Distantly, her heels clicking against the concrete echo a little louder, letting Jason know she has wandered into an alley. "I approached Alvin when the man with him went up a fire escape to take a picture with a gargoyle. I offered him my service to him as a cover. Once he confirmed his name was Alvin and he was already with a client, I left before he could get the idea I was attempting to steal his work."

"Good job." Jason boots up his bike, flying out of his hideout without hesitation. He was still twenty minutes away from Ruby Street, but if the pair was going to be a moment, he could close the distance between them and find a trail to follow once on scene.

He questions as he flies through two lanes, ignoring the honking of angry divers. "How did Alvin look? He's supposed to be with one of my contacts, so if he's with someone, it might be a John roughing him up."

I'll deal with Victorian later. He mentally swears How dare he not tell me, Alvin went back to the field after hiding out for so long without a ounce of protection.

"The sweetheart doesn't seem hurt, but I can tell his client is one of those problematic kinds." Honeycombs sighs, the edges of unease slipping into her voice. "He looks at Alvin like he's in love."

Shit. It's never suitable for working folks to meet someone who "loves" them. Nine out of ten times, it was just a wacko who became violent the moment the prostitute so much as hinted that this was only a job to them. Jason had pulled out three women's bodies from the Brown River the last time one of those clients fell in love.

Jason pressed harder on the accelerator. "Are they still there?"

Honeycomb hums "The John is on the roof now, but Alvin is waiting for him under the street pole-Oh shit!"

Jason nearly slams into a nearby car at her sudden yell. "What happened?"

She doesn't answer, but he can pick up the sound of her running and her fast breathing. He knows she is getting out of danger because if there is one thing Honeycomb is as a person, she's a survivor. He wants answers but would rather she focus on getting herself safe first.

He meanwhile, concentrates on the phone calls and the vehicles he's flying between.

It's a few minutes before she gasps. "Sorry, Darling, I had to run. Batman was on the roof with the John."

What.

"Batman just appeared out of nowhere and threw a bucket of mud at the john. Alvin didn't seem to notice, but I did. Batman made eye contact with me, so I ran." She concludes, pushing through her uneven breathing. "I have to go, Darling. Hideout before the Bats lock me up."

"That's alright. Stay safe." Jason tells her, taking a turn sharply as she hangs up the call without another word. The second she does, he double-taps his helmet to connect to the Bat communications.

"Barbie. I need to know what B is up to now."

_________________________________________________________

Bruce watches the Fae shake the mud out of his face after he has scrambled down the fire escape. Tim was at his side in a second, using a handkerchief to gently clean up the Fae's face.

There were a lot of whispered words, but based on what Bruce could pick up from lip reading, Tim had no idea he was up here. He just assumed the Fae got caught up in a juvenile prank.

Oddly enough, that was primarily due to the Fae covering for Bruce.

It was rather disappointing the repealing spell hadn't worked, but the Justice League Dark the mixture of John's Wort, primroses, and marsh marigolds mushed together with water socked in iron during the full moon should have made it possible to force the contact with Tim to break down.

Of course, this had been a desperate attempt, seeing as all the JL Dark had been unsure which method was best when he asked how to get a Fae to leave a human alone.

A lot of debate went into finding a solution, but in the end, Bruce had chosen a mixture repellent. He had even decided to use some holy water and trough in blessed soil and blessed iron just to make it extra powerful.

The magic users had all assured him it would work as long as it touched the Fae skin while Bruce chanted Tim's full legal name. It had felt rather ridiculous dragging a bucket half the size of himself through the city, trying to spot where Tim and his companion were, and even more so when he had sprinted across the rooftop screaming.

"Timothy Jackson Drake! Timothy Jackson Drake! Timothy Jackson Drake!"

The Fae had been in the middle of taking a photo. He set up his camera on a little tripod and, after pressing the time, had run to face the city- back facing Bruce- raising his arms to form a triangle above his head. Based on fact the camera was slightly lower then the Fae's torso, Bruce could deduct her was attempting to capture himself making the triangle top of one of the most iconic buildings in Gotham.

Spear tower.

He waited only long enough for the flash to go off, so by the time the Fae turned around, he had a face full of mud.

It splat all over his front, covering every inch of what should have set Tim free. The silence followed was louder than anything Bruce had ever heard, even as the Fae calmly picked up his camera and scurried to the ground.

Bruce let him go, wondering why he had failed. Thankfully, it seemed Tim and the Fae were getting back in their car- not the food truck for some reason- and were driving away.

Tonight, Bruce would find its lair and get his son home because letting him take a relaxing vacation was alarming to the rest of his children.

He rushed to the Batmobile, climbing into the driver seat and taking off after the pair. As he was driving, he could have sworn Jason just passed by him, moving like the devil was after him.

Bruce wondered briefly if he should check in on his third oldest but thought better of it when he noticed Cass, Dick, and Duke driving right behind Jason on their own bikes. His children had each other backs.

A few hours later, Bruce stood before a large empty field. He had watched the Fae drive into it and vanish from sight. None of his machines could pick up any hint on where they might have gone, but he was reasonably sure there wasn't any teleportation involved.

Sometimes teleportation left some traces in the airwaves. It's how Bruce could track people using the boom tub or find the Flash whenever Barry went on a craze.

Bruce was thinking that this was the Fae's court and his magical home was being protected by supernatural means. He just had to figure out how to get in and Tim out.

As he was considering the field, a soft, distant roar made him reach for his weapons. He turns one hand poise for a throw, his trusted batarangs in between his fingers, only to become surprised when he recognizes the vehicles driving towards him.

It was his spare Batmobile and four bird-themed motorbikes. His children.

"B?" Dick questions after spinning to a stop and sliding right in front of Bruce. He lowers his window, looking at him with apparent confusion despite the Nightwing mask blocking his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Following a lead on the Fae. What are you doing here?" Bruce asks, lowering his arm but keeping his weapon. He could never be too sure this isn't a trick.

"Following a lead on Tim." Dick responds, stepping out of his car. Two other doors open, and out steps Steph and Damian, both looking posed for a fight. Of all his children, those two tend to be the most territorial and have not taken to Tim being a semi-held hostage well. "Oracle was able to track him through the city cameras after he popped up taking photos."

"hmm"

Jason jogged over to them with Cass not far behind. "Wait,, you got a lead on your cases too? We would check in on Victorian and see if he knew anything about Alvin."

He gestures to those behind him, indicating Cass and Duke, but the daytime hero is not paying attention. Duke was staring at the field, mouth slightly open as if in awe. Bruce straightens once he realizes Duke can probably see or at least detect the magical castle.

"Victorian?" Damian asks, crossing his arms. "Who is that?"

"The owner of the giant mansion we're standing in front of. He's one of my contacts."

"Ugh, not to make you feel crazy, Hoodie," Steph speaks up, placing a hand on the crook of her hip and waving her hand to the field. "But there is literally nothing there

"What are you talking about. This place is bigger than Wayne Manor."

Bruce heard about this. Guests who have been here before or have permission to enter can see glimpses of the Otherworld that Fae deals in. However, it is surprising to know Jason has already been in contact with the Fae before and has not been kept.

Did that throw a wrench in his theory of Tim and Alvin being the same person? Why would the Fae ask Jason to find Tim if he was in the creature's home?

Before anyone could say anything else, a giant gate entrance suddenly manifested mere feet from where Bruce stood. A soft creek was heard as it was thrown open, and a glowing woman in an old mail outfit floated just a foot off the ground on the other side. She eyed them all in an eerie, emotionless face before bending her own into a low bow. "Welcome. My King wishes to invite you in."

Well, that's not ominous at all.

His children shared a look between them, silently letting each other know to be cautious as they followed the floating woman. She led them down an impressive driveway that slowly gave way to a massive mansion.

Bruce fought to keep the surprise off his face. Jason was right. This place was more prominent and grander than his manor. It didn't just scream wealth. It screamed nobility; it screamed royalty.

The group walked into the main hall, some muttering thanks to the bowing woman who opened the doors. "Of course. The King stated that his home would always be open to Master Alvin's kin."

She vanished from sight like mist fading away as soon as they crossed the doorway.

Bruce's eyes instantly landed on the figure standing atop the grand stairs. Tim was gawking at them, wearing nothing but a long, seductive black robe with fluffy collars and wrists. The front of the rob was open, displaying a large amount of chest and thigh, but keeping the significant bits out of sight.

Thankfully.

His skin was glowing, his hair tussled stylishly, and a dozen red roses were in his hands. Tim looked like he was planning a romantic evening in his get-up.

"Oh," He said dumbly. "You're not Danny."

"What the fuck is going on" Jason demanded after a long period of silence.

"Um...I was planning on seducing my friend. What are you all doing?"

"Regretting waking up this morning," Damian demands, pressing a hand over his eyes. "Please get decent. My nightmares are horrid enough."

Bruce nods. "You were Alvin Draper and are romantically involved with the Fae. He seems to be treating you well. That's good."

All of his children stared at him for a long moment before the hall erupted with displeased noises. Bruce was taken aback.

Did none of them know any of this? It seemed obvious to him.