#I so desperately want to be able to create stuff like this
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existence-is-a-pain87 · 7 hours ago
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Y/n playing as glisten, and twisted glistens reaction to them comforting him during a run
Lemme one up you and make a general Glisten drabble.
HE IS MY BOI AND I LOVE MY BOI. *cackles ferally in Glisten fangirl. No one is safe*.
Also, just so yall know, it make take me a bit to get to some of your requests. Especially the longer ones. I wanna make sure I can post content reasonably.
And sometimes I may post content slowly. Unfortunately I am not a dragon and thus have human responsibilities during the day and I gotta sleep and stuff.
So the grind is not eternal, but I'll do my best to keep yall fed with my self-aware AU (I believe I am singlehandedly feeding a fandom with self-aware Dandy's World content as I have seen no other self-aware Dandy's World things out there).
Oh, also, feel free to create your own things based off what I create! Make fanart! Write things out! And make sure to send me them! I wanna see the work yall make!!
Now, onto my drabble!
A Mirror's Purpose
Yandere!Self-Aware!Glisten x Reader
Wanrings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors
--☆☆☆☆☆--
Glisten knew his purpose. To be perfect. Every second of every day. He needed to be perfect.
Be perfect as a Toon. Be perfect when the players used his body as their own little puppet to play the game that was his life. Even as a Twisted, when he was crunched into a mess and terrified to be alone, he needed to play his role perfectly.
Then you came. And you made him question everything.
Because, no matter what flaws he showed. No matter what mistakes he was forced to make when others played him.
You thought he was perfect. No matter what.
He was even your favorite.
And if he had his way, he always would be.
--☆☆☆--
Glisten wasn't too surprised when you played him the most once you were able to purchase his Toon form.
Why wouldn't you play your favorite?
And why wouldn't you consistently compliment him either? Sure, you would be disappointed you couldn't use his active ability when your team died. But you still thought of him as perfect.
He hoped you always thought he was perfect.
He found great amusement about how you became an excited mess whenever you saw him. Even calling him your... 'precious boi'?
He didn't pay much mind as other Toons grew jealous over your adoration for him (sure, Shelly held a similar adoration, but you weren't one to desperately try to stay near her Twisted when she showed up).
He was number one in your heart, and you quickly became number one in his.
--☆☆☆--
Whenever Glisten was a Twisted, he could barely hide how he adored how you always insisted on staying nearby him.
Sure, there would be many a time you weren't the best Toon to escape to the elevator once Panic Mode occured, but you never cared.
You loved Glisten and wanted to emotionally support him.
And he showed his appreciation.
Surely you wouldn't notice how every few seconds he kept thanking you for staying close, remarking how you enjoyed his company, begging you to stay nearby.
He loved you. He loved that you loved him. He loved that no matter how broken he was, you loved him.
He loved you so much.
--☆☆☆--
It was your voice that really made Glisten love you.
Just hearing you talk always soothed any nerves, whether he be a Toon or a Twisted.
You always made him feel loved. Appreciated. Included.
He felt like when you were around, he could relax. He didn't need to overwork himself, he could show his own shortcomings and still be loved.
Your voice made you sound like the most beautiful and lovely person to ever exist.
How you would tell him sweet nothings, murmur about your adoration, squeal with glee whenever his Twisted form appeared.
He loved your voice.
He wished you could hear his.
--☆☆☆--
Glisten was quick to decide you were the most beautiful person in the whole world.
And, as a mirror, he was meant to reflect beauty.
So, naturally, he was meant to reflect yours.
He knew you were beautiful.
He knew, with your love for him, you would find him to be perfect. You would hold him close no matter how he looked. Cherishing him as a Twisted and a Toon. Ignoring how the sharp fragments of glass would cut your fingers when he was a Twisted.
And if you weren't beautiful in your own eyes? Well, he absolutely would ensure he would help you until you felt comfortable and beautiful.
He knew you would look good in ribbons.
He planned to ensure you matched. To hold you close.
He wanted to make sure you never felt unloved.
He would show you just how much he loved you.
He loved you. He loved you. He loved you.
His purpose as a mirror was to reflect your beauty, to love you. So just let him love you.
Let him love you.
Please.
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rouge-the-bat · 9 months ago
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the adhd-fueled desperation to create for hyperfixation vs my adhd struggle to do anything or even decide between the million ideas i have is my own personal hell. im dying squirtle
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xoxo-sarah · 3 months ago
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A Chance
My Wife part 3
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Part 1 | Part 2
↝pairing: Season1!Daryl Dixon x wife!reader
↝warning: things are rough between Daryl and Reader, death, cursing, arguing, walkers, ect. The usual twd stuff, angst, reader wears Daryl's clothes ( but as a big girl myself, we can just ignore how he's a twig and that's most likely unrealistic 🫡), not proofread
↝⎙ 1.30.25
|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||
Daryl Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Daylight broke and Andrea hadn't moved.
Daryl grumbled about Amy turning, but you quickly shot him down each time. People grieve in different ways. Andrea knew what she had to do when the time came.
"Y'all can't be serious." Daryl huffed, watching Andrea through squinted eyes, "Let that girl hamstring us? The dead girl's a time-bomb." He seethed.
"Daryl," You glared up at him, rubbing the scratch on your upper arm. "Don't be insensitive."
"We ain't got time for this." He seethed, glaring back at you.
You stood, "She lost her sister, not her smarts. She knows what to do."
He stepped closer, putting his weight on one leg, slightly slouching to be eye level with you. Maybe he was trying to be intimidating, but it didn't work. You had seen the dark, sad parts of him. He will never be able to scare you or berate you with actions or words. "And if she don't?"
"What do you suggest?"Rick questioned Daryl, stopping the oncoming argument.
Daryl stepped closer to Rick, bringing his fingers to his temple, "Take the shot. Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."
"No," Lori spoke up, "For God's sake, let her be."
Dary scoffed before walking off. In turn, you eyed the back of Andrea's head. She knew what she had to do, right? You hoped so.
Pulling your eyes away from her, you looked around at all of the bodies. Most were people who you had just seen, laughing and eating. Others were the dead that had wandered from the city.
Shutting your eyes, your hand automatically went to your wrist, the tightly woven thread helping to ground you. Your fingers traveled down to your left hand, the wedding ring soothing against your fingertips, a contrast to the thick thread of the collar/ bracelet on your wrist.
Daryl looked up as he helped drag a body across the ground. He watched you, watched your movements; a desperate search for comfort.
- time skip -
Daryl stomped away, not understanding why Amy and Jim were not being taken care of. They were "ticking time bombs". They were liabilities. In the new world, there was not time to grieve. Sneering at the thought, he yanked the tent flap back, watching you jump, immediately wiping under your eyes.
His eyes trailed over you in the silence of the moment. You needed comforting. He wanted to comfort you. He really did. But he had a feeling those tears were his doing. He shouldn't have taken his frustration out on you, knowing you had witnessed something horrific.
The tent opening fell down as he walked away.
Your hands instantly went back to your face, muffling the sobs that raked your body.
-
Sweat had mixed with the dirt and grime, caking your skin as you helped bury the bodies. The bright sun beat down, causing you to squint.
Daryl kept an eye on you from a distance. Neither of you had uttered a word to each other since the morning. You were both too stubborn.
Backing his truck up, bodies in the bed of it, Daryl caught sight of you looking up through the side mirrors. Just as quickly, you looked away and got back to digging, ignoring Rick and Shane's argument to your left. Turning the truck off, Daryl jumped out, slamming the door.
He made his way to where you, Rick, and Shane were digging holes for the friends you had light the night prior. "I still think it's a mistake not burning these bodies. It's what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all, wasn't that the idea?"
"At first."
Daryl scoffed, "The Chinaman gets all emotional, says it's not the thing to do, we just follow 'em along? These people need to know who the hell's in charge here- what the rules are."
"And who the hell's in charge, Daryl? It sure as hell ain't you."
Daryl scoffed again, watching as you glared at him, waiting for him to reply, from where you had jumped down in a freshly dug hole.
"There are no rules." Rick countered Daryl's statement.
"Well, that's a problem." Lori walked past Daryl's truck, children and their mothers behind her. "We haven't had one moment to hold onto anything of our old selves. We need time to mourn, and we need to bury our dead. It's what people do." With that, she turned and walked away, not caring to hear what anyone thought about that.
-
Feeling disgusting, you had made your way back to the tent. Not having any clothes, you opted for something of Daryl's. His cut shirts weren't ideal, but they were cooling and non-restricting. His old work pants fit loose, but that's not anything string couldn't fix.
Buttoning the second to last button of the dingy shirt, you heard the opening of the tent begin to unzip. You moved to cover yourself, but ultimately relaxed when Daryl stepped in. He looked up, scanning your body before glancing behind himself, making sure nobody had seen you changing from over his shoulder. He zipped the flap back up, before simply standing there. He was slightly hunched over, as were you, thanks to the small tent.
It was silent.
Your fingers went back to the button, as you ignored your husband's presence.
Daryl moved closer, standing behind you. The air around you two changed. His head fell to your shoulder, his own grime mixing with yours. He stayed there, vulnerable. This was his way of apologizing.
Your body relaxed further, sinking back into him. His arms snaked around your middle, holding you close.
"It's okay." You whispered, only loud enough for him to hear, and not to disturb this newfound peaceful atmosphere. He nodded, moving his hands to your hips, turning you around. His fingers made quick work of buttoning the last button for you.
-
The next morning, everyone was getting ready to leave for the C.D.C. Rick was out in the field, talking to a man named Morgan, the guy who had saved Rick’s life. Lori, Carol, and the kids were helping to load everything into cars. You helped Daryl load up his truck. Hopping onto the tailgate, you helped pull Daryl’s bike up, gently laying it on the truck bed.
“Are ya willin’ to put your life in his hands?” Daryl helped you jump down, glancing at Rick in the distance. Daryl was looking to you for answers. You were always the more level-headed of the two. Daryl would follow you into fire, he’d follow you to the end of the world. And you just might be doing that.
“I think you have to hope there’s a safe place out there. If we don’t hope for it, then we won’t get it. Hope is all we’ve got.” You patted his chest, before walking by him. He watched you, before slamming the rusted tailgate closed.
-
The wind blew through your hair, cooling your face. Daryl drove, one hand on the steering wheel, the other near his mouth as he nipped at his fingernails. The leg that was not being used for the gas and brake pedals slightly shook, a trailer to his nerves. You rode in silence.
“”M sorry–‘bout yesterday.” He spoke up first, biting his thumb nail. You turned your head, looking at his side-profile. He didn’t dare to glance at you.
“I know. I am too. We were both on edge; said some things. It’s alright.”
He nodded, pulling his thumb from his mouth. “Ya think Merle’s alright?”
You thought about it. Daryl had told you what they found on the roof and what they had run into.
“I think he’s a tough fucker to kill.” Daryl let out an entertained huff, “He had enough energy to steal the van, so there’s a high chance he’s okay…maybe.”
Daryl let your words marinate. Letting out a deep exhale, he swapped hands on the wheel, placing his right one of your knee. You moved closer to him, placing your hand over his.
-
Guilt was eating at you.
You had all left Jim under a tree. Sure, it was per his request, but that didn’t stop the shame bubbling in your gut. Even miles from where he sat, you had a frown on your face, thinking of him. The turning was inevitable. But the thought of him having to sit there and deal with the feeling of his bones being made of glass, cutting into him with the slightest move, having to deal with that all on his own, hurt you.
Daryl felt the tension in the truck. You sat closer to the door, hands in your lap.
His hand moved toward the radio, before cursing himself. That wouldn’t work in the apocalypse
Grumbling, he leaned over, opening the glove box and blindly digging through. Pulling a cassette tape out, he plucked it into the truck, twisting the volume knob.
It’s what Jim wanted, you kept reminding yourself. But it didn’t make you feel any better about yourself. You just hoped he wasn’t in pain for much longer.
-
Daryl tapped your arm, watching you blink awake. The melody had settled you to a light slumber. Still groggy from sleep, you took in your surroundings. For a moment, you forgot that the world went to shit. The sky was turning a dark orange, sun setting in the distance. But as you sat up in the seat, you could see the bodies on the ground, bugs buzzing above them.
“Wanna get out?” Daryl stared at you as you looked at the huge building through the windshield. Even more bodies laid in front of the building, flies swarming them. Some bodies were mindlessly wandering around.
This was the C.D.C?
Without giving a response, you opened your door, jumping out. Daryl followed, grabbing his crossbow and a shotgun from the floorboard. Walking around the truck, he pressed the gun to your side, getting your attention. You grabbed it and began following everyone to the building.
The stench alone almost had you hurling.
“Alright, everybody,” Shane began whispering, “Keep moving. Go on. Stay quiet. Let’s go.”
The constant buzzing of flies and the horrible smell of decay just might be your own personal hell.
Finally, you were a few feet from the building. Rick and Shane beat on the roll-up doors.
“There’s nobody here.” T-Dog swayed on his feet, turning to look over his shoulder every few seconds.
“Then why are these shutters down?” Rick was holding onto hope; he had to.
“Walkers!” Daryl pulled you by the arm, putting you behind him.
Children screamed, guns cocked, feet shuffled.
“You led us into a graveyard!” Daryl turned, making his way toward Rick. His nostrils flared. Fury behind his eyes.
You stepped in front of him, separating him and what he wanted to do out of anger and frustration.
“He made a call!” Dale interjected.
Daryl rounded you, “It was the wrong damn call!”
Shane stopped Daryl. “Just shut up. You hear me? Shut. Up. Shut up!” He pushed Daryl back, pointing at him.
You quickly walked over, grabbing Daryl’s shoulder before the whole thing could escalate.
Shane turned, walking back to Rick, who still stood at the shutters. “Rick, this is a dead end.”
“Where are we gonna go?” Carol held onto her daughter, but was ignored.
Night was blanketing the sky–fast. You could barely see where the cats were parked from where you stood.
Shane continued, “Do you hear me? No blame.”
Lori acknowledged Carol, “She’s right. We can’t be here, this close to the city after dark.”
“Fort Benning, Rick-still an option.”
“On what?” Andrea stepped forward, glowering. “No food, no fuel. That’s 100 miles.”
“125. I checked the map.” Glenn corrected.
Carl clung to Lori’s legs. She stared at her husband, “Forget Fort Benning! We need answers tonight, now.”
“We’ll think of something.” Rick tried, not meeting his wife’s eyes.
“C’mon!” “Let’s go!” “Let’s get out of here!” Everyone began to make their way back to the vehicles, “Alright, everybody back to the cars. Let’s go, move.”
“The camera– It moved!”
“You imagined it.”
“It. Moved.” Rick didn’t think anything of Dale’s words, walking closer to the camera near the doors. “It moved.”
“Rick, man. It’s an automated device. It’s gears, okay? They’re just winding down. Now come on. Man, just listen to me.” Shane grabbed Rick by his upper arm, trying to drag him away. “Look around this place. It’s dead, okay? It’s. Dead. You need to let it go, Rick!”
Rick pushed Shane off, going to the shutters and beating against them again. He stared up into the camera.
“Rick! There’s nobody here!” Lori yelled.
Rick ignored her, “I know you can hear me!”
Shane began ushering everyone back to the cars. “Everybody get back to the cars, now!”
Rick didn’t budge. “Please, we’re desperate. Please help us.” He begged, “We have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left.”
Lori thrusted Carl onto you, seeing as you were the closest to her, and ran over to Rick. She grabbed him. “Rick-”
“We have nowhere else to go-”
“There’s nobody here.”
Rick continued to pound on the doors.
Carl clung tighter to you.
“Keep your eyes open.” Shane ordered.
“If you don’t let us in, you’re killing us! Please!” Rick yelled at the top of his lungs.
Shane went over, pushing Lori away and grabbing Rick by his shoulders. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go.”
Carl pushed himself closer to you, hearing his father so desperate but to no avail.
Rick fought against getting dragged back, still staring into the camera, “Please help us.”
People shouted. Carl’s tears soaked into your /Daryl’s/ pants.
“You’re killing us! YOU’RE KILLING US!”
Shane shoved Rick away, watching his face crumble.
“You’re killing us.”
Your eyes widened, holding Carl closer, as a bright light nearly blinded you. The shutters opened, rolling up slowly. A hissing echoed. Everyone gawked, not knowing what to do.
“Daryl, you cover the back.” Shane ordered. Carl let go, running to his mother.
You cocked your gun, joining Daryl. He glanced at you, a questioning gaze set on you. You simply blinked at him, in shock.
Everyone walked toward the light, looking around and gawking at the interior. It smelt clean, a contrast to the horrid, rotting smell outside.
“Hello? Hello?!”
“Close those doors.”
“Watch for walkers.”
“Hello?”
A gun cocking had the group readying themselves, wildly looking around for the source.
A man stood in the shadows, gun in hand. “Anybody infected?”
“One of our group was. He didn’t make it.” Rick answered the unknown man.
“Why are you here?” The man stepped forward, “What do you want?” He put the gun down, looking at all of your grime-covered faces.
“A chance.”
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Part 4
•2021-2025 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•
•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I do NOT give permission!]
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siddyyyyyyyy · 8 months ago
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Rockstar Girlfriend
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Older!Damian Wayne x fem!Reader
wc: 3.7 K summary: You're Damian's girlfriend, and his family wants to visit your concert warnings: none, no y/n used, established relationship a/n: I often daydream about this scnenario, so here you go. divider from @super-marvel-dc , just the stuff I needed ! enjoy
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Tuning your guitar does get on your nerves on tours, especially right before you need to go on stage and the E-string seems to snap any moment. Your earpiece counts the few last beats down before the lights go off and you have to be on stage, finally getting the guitar tuned for the show. The supporting band got off stage a few mintues ago, hyping you and your bandmates up for the show, since you are the main act. This band is the most sweetest you‘ve ever met, even when they play a little softer music than you.
Just in time, you get to your mic stand and can only see some flashlights from phones in the crowd before you and your band play the first chord of the opening song. Ear-deafening shouts and cheers errupt from the crowd, having to focus on staying in the rythm, also to begin singing on the right time.
The lightshow of the stage gives the crowd an even more beautiful and energetic view, most of them singing along the first words of the song while some record with their phones. It seems like you‘re singing to a see of people, not able to recognise this many faces or even identify some with the lights flickering to the beat of the music, having to focus on multiple things at the same time anyway. But one thing is that you are sure of. It‘s that your boyfriend should be here, most likely somewhere in the front rows. As you continue to play and sing, you‘re intently watching the crowd on the first rows, trying to make out where he is. It is nearly impossible though, the lightshow making it less possible to actually recognise anyone from the stage.
You give up after a moment and focus on performing, jumping around lightly at the parts where you don‘t need to sing and can have fun. It seems like the viewers also have a lot of fun with your music, seeing some mosh-pits form further in the back and middle. You had trouble believing it at first when you saw people file out of the hall with your first few concerts, that there are some rowdy and elder people who enjoy your music. They‘re probably the same ones in the pit right now. Good thing Damian is probably at the front, he would‘ve seriously injured people on accident.
Your band is two songs in, but the set list still has twenty songs left, promising for a long night. Damian is indeed by the front rows, standing among other hardcore fans who seem too desperate for his taste. But who is he to judge, he tries to make it to every concert you guys announce and play near by. Always getting some kind of merch by the merch stands before the show, small stickers or patches, you name it; he has it.
During a more heavy song, you engange with the crowd as usual, telling them to part the crowd for the up-coming breakdown. Of course, the crowd does a good job at that, some people in the front and back just watching the show and crowd while the band continues to play.
The breakdown, the most heaviest part of the song, start playing and the people create a ‚Wall of Death‘, it looking satisfying from your view. Your bassist does most of the screaming vocals on the extra mic stand, getting to play the thrilling chords on your guitar while watching the crowd have fun.
Finally, you meet eyes with Damian. He grins proudly, wearing a shirt with your band logo on it. He gives you a thumbs up, seemingly proud and happy to support you on one of your bigger perfomances. Normally, you play at smaller stages, but the support band and your new support and love from fans made this possible to happen. It‘s a sight to see, knowing all these people like the stuff you‘re creating for your own enjoyment and actively support your band because they want more of your music.
You‘re halfway through your setlist now, not being nervous at all now as you get used to the feeling fairly quickly. It‘s always during the middle of the set when it is time for a small break, getting to drink some water while engaging with the crowd and entertaining them. And who would your bandmates be if they wouldn‘t mess around with the other mic while you talk, making the crowd laugh and record the interaction with your band. After the joksters finally lock in, it‘s time to perform the last half of the set list. The crowd really does give their best on having fun, never having seen so many mosh pits in one of your concerts before.
The show comes to an end, being sweaty and worn out after the perfomance but you can‘t leave without throwing some guitar picks and drumming sticks to the crowd, a lot of them being happy over it and catching them.
Lastly, you could finally leave for the backstage and into your private room to get unready and settle down into your own respective homes.
»Was your lovey-dovey boyfriend here again?« Your drummer asks while drying his hair off with a towel, always talking about your boyfriend as if he would take him from you. In a friendly, funny way, of course.
»Yeah, somewhere in the front row. Why?«
You answer back while taking off your make up in front of a mirror, glancing behind your shoulder at him.
»I just saw him too. Seemed like he was wearing our merch!«
He tells you excitedly with a big grin, making sure to get his hair dry from his sweat.
»Yeah, he definitely wore our merch.« You nod back as your face is bare again, walking over to your bag at the couch. Your bandmates seem to giggle and mostly joke a bit around with how cheesy your boyfriend is, being used to their shenanigans by now. You settle down on the couch for a moment, your feet and legs aching from standing and performing for almost an hour tonight, having been preparing and helping the technicians with setting up the lightshow and stage this afternoon, since you feel bad for them doing all this for your band.
Eventually, you make your way outside of the arena to meet your boyfriend, having your bag over your shoulder while the staff is taking care of the rest. He is standing by the back door, right where you walked out of, greeting him with a tight hug.
»God, I‘m sweaty, I probably stink so bad...«
Damian doesn‘t even budge and keeps you in his arms, a soft expression on his face.
»So what? You were amazing up there. As always.«
He shrugs and doesn‘t seem to want to let go of you yet, swaying together from side to side which makes you both smile at the other.
Damian walks you home, ending up carrying you once you mention about your feet hurting. There‘s something deeply affectionate in the way he holds and carries you in his arms, not leaving room for any arguments about it.
The night ends with him dropping you off by your home, exchanging some fleeting kisses before he is forced to leave for patrol with the others.
----
The Wayne Manor, 11:26 PM
»Are you not going to explain why you‘re late this time?« Bruce gruff voice calls out once Damian joins the rest on the rooftop, changed in his suit and ready to patrol finally.
»He was at his girlfriends concert. They had a show nearby today.« Tim snitches, making it short but also making Damian glare at him even harder.
»Is that true?«
His father questions again and awaits his answer, receiving a nod as Damian looks at him finally.
»Yes, I was at her show. Bought a shirt.«
Batman simply sighs out but doesn‘t seem annoyed by it for more than five seconds.
»Where was it this time?« He asks with rather more curiousity, making Damian state the name of the city, having driven back by train with you together to drop you off safely.
The conversation doesn‘t last long as they begin to patrol, Damian having a bit of trouble hearing at first, still used to the loud music from earlier. The patrol ends up being as usual, no serious troubles.
----
Next morning at the Manor seems to be chaotic once again, some voices coming from the kitchen while Bruce is sipping on a cup of coffee with a newsletter in hand.
»Why can‘t we ever join when you‘re going out with her? She‘s so nice and fun to talk to, it‘s unfair!«
Dick complains from the kitchen as he prepares some toast for himself, Damian sitting by the kitchen island with a cup of tea in hand.
»If you wouldn‘t try to disturb their dates, maybe he would have her come over more frequently.«
Tim counters as he is at the kitchen island as well, working at his laptop. The eldest son groans dramatically, defending himself from the obvious truth.
»I‘m not trying to disturb them, just trying to talk and see how it‘s going...«
»Definitely invading their privacy.«
It seems like Dick still wants to spend more time all together with you and the family, but it‘s clear that you don‘t have much time now with your small tour going on and them being vigilantes.
»I would also like to see her more often, but you‘ve got to understand she has her own duties, just like us.«
Alfred chimes in as he walks into the kitchen, preparing more tea as he talks. The discussion is interrupted as Bruce finally walks in, interrupting the complains of Dick and mean comments from Damian.
»Why don‘t we visit one of her concerts? We‘ve never been to one before.«
It is really bizarre for him to suggest something like this, especially since he seems to need to work a lot lately. Maybe he has finally gone mad?
At the silence he receives, he continues, seeing the bewildered looks from his children.
»I‘m simply saying we never saw her perform. It can‘t be that bad, can it?«
Cass, who just happens to stand by the door studies the others, not being against it herself. She raises her hand with a nod, seemingly agreeing with the idea. Damian notices, and the rest does as well, making Jason speak up finally.
»She does rock and metal, right?«
»Yes, but — «
Damian really doesn‘t want the rest to tag along to the next concert you give in town, knowing it will mostly be embarrassing and they will probably get spotted more easily by reporters or simple fans.
But before he could finish his sentence, everyone raises their hand lightly, even Alfred being okay with the idea.
»Are you kidding me?« He sighs out, being clearly overpowered as the plan is settled.
The Wayne‘s will be at your next concert.
----
Your bandmates almost freak out once you tell them the news, Damian having called you and sheepishly admitted it, claiming it‘s his fault. Clearly, no one is upset. Actually, everyone seems to be freaking out for all the good reasons.
Now it‘s time to prepare for the show this evening, mostly texting with Damian and finally getting to prepare after getting teased by your bandmates once more.
You watch people arrive by the parking lot, seeing how many people already are inside in the arena with some drinks in hand, the show beginning in about half an hour. But you can‘t watch for much longer, getting dragged to the backstage to tune your guitar and warm up for the show. The supporting band plays first just like before, hyping each other up again.
"Are you there already? Please warn them about the supporting band, don't want them to get confused."
You text to Damian, hoping they are at least in the parking lot already and ready to watch the show.
"We got here an hour ago, saved some seats. I'll tell them about it."
He responds back fairly quickly, making you assume they're in the front row if they got in so early. Time goes by and the show starts, the support band starting their 45 minutes set before you come on stage and play your own set list.
As the other times, the band starts with more softer songs, getting progressively more heavy, but still not as heavy as your songs. Bruce stays standing beside Damian, not used to rock shows, but he clearly respects it and is just here out of curiousity and wants to support his 'almost-daughter-in-law' in some way. Dick seems to enjoy himself, even when this isn't his usual type of music. He is mostly fascinated by the enthusiastic crowd and how popular your band seems to be, even when you're about nineteen by now. Perks of starting young, he guesses.
Jason seems to be rather unimpressed by the show, claiming he expected some heavier stuff. But this is just the supporting band anyway, so Damian doesn't mind arguing over the loud music. Cass and Tim simply watch, them both having informend themselves before joining the show tonight. But they do seem to be rather amused by some fans. The flashing lights from the lightshow seems to amaze Cass the most though, being almost captivated by how pretty the lights shine and work on stage.
Eventually, the band goes off stage, meeting your band backstage and tells you all about the Wayne family being there, having forgotten to tell them earlier about it.
Now that it's your turn to perform, you feel more nervous than at other times. Usually, you get nervous just before the show, but it fades once you get to play the first few chords and riffs, the cheering form the crowd spurring you on even more.
This time it's different and the bassist seems to notice of it. She walks up to you, trying to hype you up and give you some motivational words, but they do little to calm your nerves down. It's too late anyway, being called up on stage by the staff. You quickly hop on stage with the rest, lights being turned off and the anticiaption rises. Your heartbeat quickens in your chest, hearing the happy crowd even with your earpiece on. The first song starts to play, strumming the intro on your guitar while doing your best to focus on getting the notes right and not play too fast.
The lights turn back on once you start to sing, as usual confident and smooth. In the back of your head you are still thinking about Damians whole family being here, not able to ignore the heart pounding heavily in your ears while you perform. You curse yourself inwardly for still being nervy, hating how new this feels, even though it's nothing new at all.
Continuing with the show, the song progresses into more heavy riffs and up beat tempo, getting a rich mix of an energetic and hearty sound. You get a smooth transition onto the next song, pushing through your slight nervousness to perform the second song with even more passion. As there are less singing parts, you get to jump around the stage a little and let go of the skittish energy inside you. From another perspective, it just looks like you're having fun.
Jason seems more impressed now, furrowing his brows lightly as he bops his head along the music lightly. Dick seems to completely lose it though, jumping with the other fans along and getting lost in the crowd eventually. Bruce stays stoic, focussing his eyes on you as he watches how you perform. You seem more alive and vibrant on stage, never having really seen you this bouncy before. Often times, when you came over, you seemed to be just a little shy but very polite. Here, you still seem to be a good soul, but a lot less shy. And that in front of probably over six hundered people.
Playing and performing the songs seem to get easier with time, not able to focus your eyes on specific people in the crowd, but it's probably better this way. Finally, you reach the half of the set list, not being nervous or anxiuos anymore. Well, you are a bit nervous since your bandmates promised to not do any embarressing stuff on stage, not entirely trusting them though.
As soon as you had a few gulps of water, you get back on your spot in the middle of the stage, hand resting on your hip while the other holds you guitar by neck for the meantime. It's time to entertain the crowd.
»A round of applause for our vocalist and her breathtaking perfomance!«
Of course, your bassist said something before you with his own extra mic stand. Nevertheless, the crowd fires up the atmosphere, getting loud shouts and cheers from them. Cass has to put her hands over her ears from how loud it is, all the while Damian smirks proudly and claps cheerfully.
»Thank you! Did you have to embarrass me?« You finally speak into your own mic as you turn to face Marcus, the bassist, earning a few chuckles from the large crowd.
Meanwhile, Jason has to physically hold Dick back from screaming something along the lines of 'We love you!' and 'You're my favourite band!' to you and fluster you more.
»Okay, ignore these goofballs for now. I need you all to part the sea for the next song. Shit's about to get heavy.« You have actually forgotten that Damian's whole family is here, realising only a moment later and immediately search for them in the crowd. You spot them being located more by the right side of the crowd, but still fairly in the middle and at the front row. Dick waves at you, earning a sheepish smile from you before focussing back on the show.
The lights turn off again, getting a countdown and metronome in your earpiece once more as the large crowd does their work and parts into two. Bruce is very confused, not getting what's about to happen. While it's not too loud he decides to ask.
»What's this about, Damian?« He only receives a sly smile from his youngest son, hoping he gets an answer.
»Are you ready for a Wall of Death?« You exclaim through the mic, earning many cheers and shouts back. But you aren't satisfied and ask again, getting an even louder response. Now Bruce knows what it's called but he has absolute zero idea what's about to happen.
Jason knows though and makes sure Cass is not in the way, not wanting to see dead bodies. The lights switch to red as usual, matching the rythm of your song again while the fans wait for the breakdown to drop. The bassist, Marcus, does most of the singing — or vocal screaming — in the song, leaving you to jump around and play some nasty riffs.
The parted crowd immediatly rushes at eachother, the Wall of death happening. Bruce watches with light fascination, not keeping his eye off the people as if to make sure nothing goes wrong. Your band goes on though, the songs playing easily and with passion as the show goes on.
Jason seems to enjoy it more himself, headbanging more to the music while he watches you perform, and for once doesn't regret going out with his family. As for the rest of the family... they aren't into this type of music, but stay until the end anyway and mostly take pride on watching you perform the songs out with your band on stage. ----
Going off stage after throwing some guitar picks and drumming sticks into the crowd, you feel exhausted again. Feet hurting, fingers and wrists needing some stretching and your shoulders ache lightly from the strap of the guitar. Your voice is needs a break for tonight as well. But ignoring that, you take your sweaty make up off and go about the same routine as usual, before you can take a proper shower back at home. Oh, right. You're sleeping over by Damians house this time.
Walking out of the building, you see the Bat family waiting by their limousine for you. Damian approaches you once he sees you, pulling you into a hug before he kisses your cheek.
»You did great. As always.« He tells you as every night, it still sounding genuine and loving when he says it.
»Thanks... what do they think?«
»I didn't ask. But they seem okay.« Damian answers you, earning a soft groan from you, both from exhaustion and slight nervousness of their opinions. He seems to sense it and chuckles lightly, rubbing your back gently with his hand.
»Stop making out, we've got places to be!« What seems to be Jason calls out, interrupting the small kiss you shared just now.
With a small groan, he tags you along by the waist. Bruce greets you with a brief nod, not wasting any time to speak up.
»Good evening. When Damian said you have a band, I didn't expect it to be something like this.« In fact, he expected the worst the first time he found out about it, but never got to actually see what it's like until now. It makes Dick and Jason roll their eyes, even earning a brief annoyed look from Cass.
»The music was great, don't worry. I even got into one of those mosh pits. I would go again.« Dick interwhines, smiling goofily at you. He definitely had a good time.
»Me too. Loved the heavier songs.« Jason adds onto, getting slightly surprised by his positive feedback. Maybe they are just glad to have had some fun in a while, knowing they work hard to protect the city.
You exchange a few more words with them, sitting into the limousine beside Damian, who keeps his arm around your waist the entire time. He can sense your tiredness, as does the rest, but they keep talking about the show and what they liked the best. It's actually good they do so, not needing to talk so much. While quietly sitting beside Damian, you see that Cass has a pin of your band logo at her bag, getting a bit flustered and happy on the inside. You can't hold it for long though, being worn out after the long concert and doze off against your lovers shoulder before even arriving back to the Manor.
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a/n: Hope you enjoyed reading it!!
←MASTERLIST
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day-time-dream · 4 months ago
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ok i have Thoughts about the leverage team playing dnd.
you would think hardison would be the dm but no, its 100% sophie. can you imagine the fun she would have crafting and inhabiting npcs and villains and subtly tweaking and manipulating the characters ((and players tbh)) into following plot threads?? she would love it and she would be so fucking good at it.
hardison would minmax his guy to hell and back, stacked to the gills with magic items and insane homebrews. he would spend obscene amounts of time weighing his moves in each round of combat and forget basic stuff like reactions and what can be a bonus action.
parker would have the most fuck-ass build which Should Not Work, with a lot of unfortunate traits cause she had no idea what she was doing, ((ally beardsley giving kristen 4 dex type shit)) but she somehow pulls it off so beautifully and manages to clutch save the party at every turn i.e. scanlan casting Wish. she is just as laser-focused on collecting treasure in-game as she is in real life.
eliot would play a basic human but try out a spellcaster cause he punches people for realsies all the time, punching in-game isnt fun. he would be the one most into the rp aspect, and sophie would latch onto him and they would create oscar-worthy backstory and character development.
nate would not be able to keep a character alive for more than two sessions ever and he would hate it always
i so desperately want to write this fic now someone stop me and/or buy in
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alilobsessive · 2 months ago
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I have probably sent you an ask before about this but idk I NEED someone to make something from this idea:
Neglected!Wayne as Bob Belcher inspired
The early season crashouts, the struggling to pay the bills….it’s glorious
OR OR for a more like ‘different’ au:
Bruce Wayne falls in love with a struggling single parent with three kids, a burger shop that SHOULD be renowned worldwide, and a shitload of debt
🎤
Omg omg, okay, so I admittedly never watched Bob’s burgers I have seen clips, obviously. So I can’t in good conscience write this. I will never be able to do it justice, not until I binge watch at least a season or two or more, maybe the movie. But you’re definitely on to something.
If we’re going for option A
Neglected Wayne is probably about the same age as Dick, maybe older. None of there kids are that old 6 at the oldest. There desperately trying to keep the Restaurant going, this has been there dream since they were young! Not the running a Burger Place part but running a Restaurant, beggars can’t be choosers and you picked a Burger Place solely to spite the chain restaurants and Batburger’s that keep popping up. They desperately don’t want to contact there family for financial help. There relationship with them is awful and Reader would rather die then contact them. But one night during an attempted robbery at the restaurant all of that changes. You’re back on Bats radar, not just you but your whole family and that is not a good thing.
B though, I think it would be hilarious to see Bruce is kid and the medias reaction to him falling in love with this stressed and sarcastic single parent. Like
Reader: *Drenched in sweat, eye bags under eye bags, makeup? Don’t know her. Trying to stuff one of there kids into a hamburger costume in some big to gain more visitors or the restaurant will close for the 5th time. Another one is trying to blackmail and guilt trip a customer into tipping extra. The oldest is aggressively typing away at there phone writing 100 wpm, creating what can only be described as a 2010 pre-teen fanfiction. That in realty is mid at best but looks like high art to her.*
Bruce Wayne: *pining aggressively*
Bat kids: Really? You have women that could become supermodels if they wanted at your beck and call. Man that could revile gods swooning like teenager girl when you just glance at them? And you want that? That’s why to normal for you are you feeling okay?
The Media: Really? You have women that could become supermodels if they wanted at your beck and call. Man that could revile gods swooning like teenager girl when you just glance at them? And you want that?
Maybe instead of Bruce coming over as well Bruce Wayne it’s as Batman.
Picture this, your a single parent running a family owned Burger place in Gotham City. It’s a miracle you aren’t secretly a front for something. One of your kids is at the cash register, the other two doing homework, it almost completely empty. Then suddenly you hear it “HOLY SHIT!” One of them screams as the bell jingles signaling another customer. Instantly you’re on edge unsure of its a bad holy shit or a good one then they continue “ITS FUCKING BATMAN!” And instantly there’s a stampede if tiny footsteps. You look out of the kitchen and see your kids crowding around Batman who is still at the door. “What are you doing here?!” “Why are you here” “Baba didn’t commit any crimes did they??” “Baba’s not cool enough to commit crimes idiot!” “When did Baba get cool!” You’re youngest snaps her head to look at you. “You committed crimes and didn’t include me!?” She says both shocked and offended, Batman, the Dark Knight, someone who was nothing more then a cryptid when you and your Ex Partner first started this business, slowly turns his head to look at you. You feel nothing but fear, a primal fear you thought was long forgotten as you make eye contact.
Without a word he orders enough food for a small army, making sense judging by the amount of protégés and coworkers he has. He then pays solely in hundred dollar bills, leaves a hundred dollar tip and then disappears into the dead of night not taking his change. To your horror and your kids glee not just the Batman but his entire posse become regulars.
We’re cooking! We’re cooking here!
And remember kids! Always support your local businesses! Steeling from large companies is not a crime! And if you’ve never been to a Burger place before that isn’t fast food, go to one ASAP it will change your life a swear!
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mommyslittlebird · 3 months ago
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Still Her Favorite
Mean!Mommy!Wanda x Puppy!Reader
After a day of misbehaving, Wanda stays home from work to punish her puppy, and her best friend Natasha decides to join.
CW: Puppy stuff (collars, ears, tails, etc.), Reader has a penis, plugs, mentions of spanking as punishment, cock shame, humiliation, teasing, safe word discussion, ignoring as punishment, illusions of cheating, jealousy, haha Natasha’s dick is bigger than yours
Word Count: 3k
A/N: Once again not the fic I promised but I’m working on it. Listening something washed over me this afternoon.
A/N: I’m going to be honest, I super don’t love this. But perfectionism is a demon that kills my ability to create, and I’d rather publish a bad fic than lose a good one to the demons.
“Now what brings a precious little puppy like this into the office today?” Natasha asked, circling Wanda’s desk to find you at her feet.
“She was being terribly naughty at home alone, yesterday. Sometimes mommy’s long hours in the office have her thinking she can get away with certain things,” Wanda explained, making no move to look at you while she was talking about you. Her ignoring you was your least favorite punishment by far. You could handle the spankings, the teasing, the humiliation, even the denial. But when mommy stopped talking to you or even looking at you, it was sheer agony.
Natasha smirked. She knew when Tony had said her best friend had requested to work from home today because she “had a new puppy that she had to take care of,” she had to come visit Wanda’s home office. And you did not disappoint.
You could’ve almost cried from embarrassment, kneeling in a dog bed at Wanda’s feet in nothing more than a pink collar and your puppy ears. There was a chain leash attached to your collar that Wanda had tucked mindlessly around her wrist. Your neglected cock was desperately hard between your legs, dribbling little bits of precum onto the fluffy fabric underneath you.
Natasha was surprised to find you weren’t wearing a tail, as that was typically one of Wanda’s staples. “No tail today, puppy?” She questioned. Unlike Wanda, she did look at you when she spoke. You wished she wouldn’t. Her green eyes sent shivers down your spine. You wanted Wanda’s attention, not hers. You didn’t answer.
“No tail today,” Wanda sighed, answering for you. She finally looked down at you with a harsh glare. “Do you wanna tell Tasha why you don’t have your tail in today, puppy?” The look she sent you cast your eyes onto the floor. It was bone chilling. When you didn’t answer, she prompted you further. “Where was your tail when I got home yesterday? Was it in your ass, where good girls keep their tails?”
“No,” you admitted shamefully, barely above a whisper.
“No it wasn’t, was it?” She scolded, returning her attention back to her work. You cursed yourself for not being able to keep eye contact. Maybe if she could see the pained look in your eye, she’d cut the punishment short and skip to the cuddles you so desperately needed.
Natasha's eyes lit up in surprise. You were typically so well behaved for Wanda. She couldn’t help but feel a spike of arousal at the thought of Wanda coming home to find you without your tail. Oh how she would’ve loved to watch that punishment. She couldn’t exactly see your ass from how you were sitting, but she was willing to bet it was covered in delicious little welts and bruises.
“You wanna show Tasha the pretty plug you’ve got in today, instead?” Wanda asked, wiggling her heel under your ass and forcing you up. Natasha stood expectantly next to Wanda as she forced you forward onto all four. You whimpered as you caught yourself on your elbows.
Natasha's suspicions were immediately confirmed when she saw your welted ass, clearly spanked raw. She wondered if Wanda had gone as far as using the cane on you last night. Oh how you would’ve cried. She felt herself growing hard at just the thought.
Wanda pressed the point of her shoe into your balls, wiggling her foot to provide friction. “Spread your ass for Tasha so she can see your pretty plug.”
You did as she asked, reaching back with both hands to better reveal the pink plug stuffed inside of you. “Mommy’s Girl” was written across the base in fancy lettering. The maneuver forced you onto your shoulders, face resting against your dog bed.
Natasha reached her hand down to touch you, stopping to look at Wanda, who nodded in approval. She pushed on the base of the plug forcing it further into your ass.
It was the biggest one Wanda had ever had you wear by a pretty wide margin. You’d cried when she put it in this morning, and the cruel sting had barely faded throughout the day. The simple sensation of Natasha’s hand was almost enough to have you in tears again.
“She’s a little sensitive, aren’t you, puppy? You’ve never had anything that big in your little ass before have you?” Wanda explained, moving her foot so the point of her shoe lightly caressed your shaft.
You shook your head into the soft fabric of the dog bed, holding back tears. The sensation of the two women’s hands on you, toying with you cruelly, was terribly overwhelming.
“Mommy’s dirtying her favorite shoes for you puppy,” Wanda smirked sadistically, nearly laughing at how pathetic you looked on the ground in front of her. She could tell the contact, after a morning of neglect, was overwhelming you. “What do you say?”
“Thank you mommy!” You cried, muffled by the plush bed your face was forced in to. “And thank you Natty for playing with my ass!”
Natasha inspected you carefully, running her hands over the raw swell of your ass. She didn’t stop when you winced and whimpered at the harsh contact she made with your sensitive skin. She leaned forward, peeking her head under you to get a better look at your cock.
She was consistently surprised by how small you were, especially in comparison to her. Even as hard as you were, your cock couldn’t have been a full 5 inches long. You weren’t terribly thick either, thinner, even in proportion, than she was. “Poor puppy,” she cooed teasingly. “I bet you can’t even please your mommy with a dick that little, can you?”
You naïvely expect Wanda might chime in on your behalf, but when she just laughed, your face burned red. You wanted her to defend you: tell Natasha that even though it was small, you had the sweetest, prettiest cock in the universe and she loved it. Sure she had to put you in a sleeve sometimes when she fucked you, but you were more than capable of getting her off. She loved your little cock, even if it was small.
But she said nothing of the sort. She simply laughed like Natty had told a silly joke.
You heard the undoing of a belt buckle behind you, and then your head was pulled back up by the leash. “Come here, honey,” Natasha instructed, motioning for you to stand up. “Let’s see how you measure up.”
You looked to Wanda, hoping she would come to your rescue, but she simply raised her eyebrows expectantly. For once, you found you didn’t want to leave your puppy bed.
You clambered to your feet, finding yourself face to face, dick to dick with Natasha Romanov. You blushed fiercely, looking down at the space between you. Where Natasha’s shaft stood proud at 9 inches, yours was a lousy 4 ½. Not to mention hers was twice as thick, ridged with strong veins up to the tip. It wasn’t so much that you were jealous of her, you just wished you hadn’t looked so puny in comparison. Maybe if you were 6 or 7 inches, this wouldn’t be such a humiliating display. Even if you just had a little more girth, her dick wouldn’t make yours look like a child’s in comparison.
Instead you stood there, eyes wide as you stared down at her, simply unable to speak. You wanted to defend yourself in some way, but what was there to defend? Her dick was superior to yours in every way. At least you were largely hairless in comparison. Then again, that just made you look more juvenile.
Natasha laughed at the stunned look on your face. “Wanda, I don’t think your sweet little puppy has ever seen a real cock before.”
Much to your chagrin, Wanda laughed too. “No, Tasha. I think it’s only ever been silicone and the pathetic little thing she’s got between her legs.”
Natasha moved to stand next to Wanda, who looked up at her, amused, from her desk chair. You watched in horror as she dropped your leash and grabbed Natasha shaft, placing a light kiss to the tip. “Don’t be rude, puppy. Tell Tasha what a pretty cock she has.”
“You-you have a very pretty cock Natty,” you stammered.
She smiled back at you condescendingly. “Thank you, puppy.”
“Now go lay down,” Wanda instructed, watching you pad over to your bed. You got back on your knees, helpless to do anything but watch the scene before you unfold.
“You truly do have quite the impressive member here,” Wanda said in faux sincerity. She lazily ten her tongue around Natasha’s tip in between sentences. “Maybe I’ll get a cast of it, for when I start to miss you. I could even get my sweet puppy to wear it as a sleeve, so she can feel what it’s like to have a real cock.”
“The poor puppy,” Natasha teasingly cooed, looking down at Wanda, “can she even get you off with that little thing?”
Wanda smirked, running her tongue up the underside of Natasha’s dick. “I have better luck getting off with a toy up that pretty ass of hers,” she teased. “I don’t even have to touch it most of the time. The little thing goes twitching and spurting all on its own.”
Natasha growled. “God, I’d love to watch her cry on my cock. Poor thing probably wouldn’t make it halfway down before the tears started flowing.”
Wanda chuckled again, continuing to lazily pump her hand against Natasha’s groin. “That will truly be a show. I can find a way to keep her mouth occupied, should she put up too much of a fuss.”
The two women continued talking, laughing at each other’s jokes, seemingly enriched in the conversation. All while Wanda casually played with Natasha’s perfect dick. And, most importantly, they never sparred you so much as a glance.
They talked about you, briefly. But the conversation soon shifted to other topics: work, travel plans, antidotes from the past. They seemed to go on and on in a jovial little conversation you were not invited to be a part of.
You whined and whimpered from your bed, jealousy boiling up inside of you, but you didn’t dare leave your bed. Even in a jealous rage, you knew the rules. You wouldn’t speak and you wouldn’t leave your bed until Wanda told you to.
You tried to remind yourself Wanda was just playing. You’d talked about this several times before. Natasha was by no means a new and unexpected addition to your sex life. But something about the way Wanda was genuinely smiling up at Natasha, her perfect dick in Wanda’s nicely manicured hand, made it feel like more than playing. You found yourself crying, tears falling down your cheeks as you tried to get their attention.
You were practically jumping around your bed, seconds away from running up and pushing Natasha away, when she finally said “Tony will be expecting me back. I told him I’d only be gone an hour or so.”
“Okay,” Wanda sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. If I can get the little one to behave. Love ya.”
Natasha zipped up her pants, shoving her hard on back down in her underwear. “Love ya. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And then, with all the audacity in the world, she bent down and gave Wanda a little peck on the lips.
When Natasha finally left the room, Wanda finally tapped her lap and whistled for you to come. You ran to her, nearly sending her rolling chair across the room with the impact. She caught you in her arms, gently petting the back of your head. “Shhh puppy, mommy’s got you. You’re okay.”
You whined pathetically in her lap, pawing at her shirt and leaning back to look her in the eyes. “You were just playing with Natty, right? You don’t really like her cock better, do you? Mine is still your favorite, right? Even though it’s little and maybe not so… pleasurable as hers, it’s still your favorite? Please tell me it’s still your favorite.”
Wanda giggled, calmly coddling you into her while you cried. “Of course your cock is still my favorite, baby. I was just playing with Tasha, puppy. Remember what I told you? I don’t like playing with her like I play with you. You're my special little puppy and no one is ever going to change that.”
“And-and you didn’t like kissing her either because I’m your favorite person to kiss and you were just playing when you did that,” you rambled.
Wanda eyebrows lifted in surprise. She straight up made out with Natasha in front of before for your enjoyment. She was surprised the little kiss set you off so bad. “Of course, love,” she said, pulling you into a kiss. “You’re my absolutely favorite person to kiss.”
“You promise?” You pleaded “Even though she’s bigger, and… and her cock is perfect. And she’s prettier than I am…”
You were interrupted by Wanda grabbing your face. “Hey,” she said firmly, “you’re talking about my special puppy right now and we’re not gonna use words like that, okay? Sweetheart, if it was really bothering you to watch me and Tasha like that, I need you to use your safe word, okay? I’m only playing, honey. And I can only do that if I know that you’re okay.”
You nodded. “I-I like watching you play with Natty, but you were pretending like I didn’t exist and I got a little scared that you forgot…” you explained. “You weren’t even holding my leash. You just… left it on the ground!”
“Oh sweet girl,” she soothed, “of course mommy didn’t forget about you, baby. We were putting on a little show special for you, sweetheart.”
“I know, I know,” you cried. “I was trying really hard to remember. But you were just so happy with her, and-and… I thought maybe you liked her better than me!”
“Would you have felt better sitting in mommy’s lap?” She asked, trying to problem solve this venture for the future.
You nodded. Everything is better when you can hold onto mommy.
She chuckled. “Okay, baby. How about this: next time you need my lap you just give my clothes a little tug. You won’t get in trouble for leaving your bed. If you start to feel any bad feelings, you can feel free to crawl up in my lap. Or, can you remind me of our word we use we use when we have to take a little pause and talk about something?”
“Y-yellow,” you responded.
“That’s right!” She praised. “You’re such a smart puppy. Can you promise you’ll use that next time we’re playing and you start to not feel so good?”
You nodded. “Yes mommy, I promise.”
“Good girl,” she cooed. “Remember that even during your punishments, you have the right to interrupt if something doesn’t feel right, okay. Not everything is supposed to feel good, but it’s never supposed to be too much.”
You nodded against her, wrapping your arms around her possessively. 
She let you sit like that for a minute, cooing over how much she loved you, before tucking your head into her neck and wheeling back to her desk. She carefully moved her laptop away from the center of the desk, lifting you up and setting you down in its place. You hissed as your sore ass mad e contact with the hard surface. “Now, how about mommy takes a little break from work to show you how much I love this little cock of yours, and then you can sit on my lap and cuddle until I’m done for the day?”
You nodded, leaning back against the desk, bracing yourself as she spread you out in front of her. She nudged your legs apart, sliding herself between them as she took you in. She places gentle kisses up your thighs, ruining her knuckle lightly against your throbbing shaft. “Such a pretty puppy. You’re still so hard for me angel. Have you been waiting on mommy to take care of you all day?”
You nodded, biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself from whining. Your dick was so beyond hard by this point. It took all of your willpower to stay still on the desk.
She finally took you into her hand, gently massaging the precum from your tip. “Oh angel,” she breathed, licking the thin liquid up as it dripped down your shaft. “This is mommy’s favorite cock, princess. There’s never been a more perfect one in the world.”
“Really?” You squeaked. After an afternoon of neglect, her tongue immediately felt like heaven. You were struggling to keep your head upright, but she wrapped your leash around her hand, forcing you to stay. She looked at you like you were her whole world.
She nodded, slipping the tip of your cock past her lips. You almost immediately jerk at the heavenly sensation, but she was already holding your hips in anticipation. You weren’t known for being a patient puppy. She slid one of your legs up over your shoulders to give her better access.
Her mouth moved rhythmically around your cock, occasionally pulling away to suck on your balls while she stroked you with her hand. She went slow, but not cruelly so. She was taking her time with you because you were important. Because she loved you.
Your hands tightened around the edge of the desk, fingernails digging into the underside of it. “Mommy…” you moaned, straining against the leash.
“Mmm,” she hummed, lip still wrapped around your cock. The good thing about your small size was she could take you in your entirety without much effort. You could feel your tip nearing the back of her throat.
She moved her hands from your balls down to the plug in your ass. She tapped the metal with the tip of her nails, sending vibrations deep inside of you.
You whined. “Mommy it’s gonna hurt….”
“Aww,” she cooed, sloppily kissing down your shaft. “Is it gonna hurt when you cum baby? Is it gonna hurt when your tight little ass clenches around mommy’s big plug?”
You nodded. She pulled on the end of the metal plug, twisting it inside of you. The pain sent shivers up your spine.
“It’s okay, puppy,” she soothed, “Mommy’s right here baby. It’ll only last a little bit and then you’ll get all the cuddles you can ever dream of, okay?”
“O-okay,” you breathed and she sucked sharply on your balls. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, willing yourself not to orgasm too hard.
But Wanda seemed intent on ruining this plan. She masterfully guided her tongue around your tip before she took you down to the hilt, letting it hit the back of her throat. She switched her attention between fondling your balls and playing with the plug in your ass. It wasn’t long before you were ready to cum.
“You're holding back on mommy, aren’t you? I can feel you all swollen in my mouth. And these little balls are very full, puppy. Don’t you wanna cum for mommy? You’ll feel much better after,” she insisted.
Your bottom lip quivered. “I’m scared, mommy.”
She smirked. She’d never seen you so dedicated to not having an orgasm. Either way, your resistance was futile. She continued to toy with the plug while she skillfully sucked you off. She tightened her hold on the leash.
It wasn’t even a full minute before you were begging. “Mommy. Mommy please. Please mommy I’m gonna cum. Please mommy,” you pleaded.
With one final stroke, you came, spilling down her throat. She was sure to swallow every drop, treating it as if it were a holy thing she’d be loathe to waste.
The pain overshadowed the pleasure almost immediately. Your ass tightened frantically around the plug, futilely attempting to push it out. It hurt worse now than it had going in. You cried out, reaching out to grab any part of her you could.
“Shshshhhh,” she soothed, holding her hand in one of hers while the other stroked your forehead. “You did so good for me, puppy. You’re such a good girl. It’s over now honey. You can have all the cuddles baby.”
She slid back down your body, methodically kissing her way back down your stomach to your now soft dick. She took it into her hands, all shrunken and small, and placed a little kiss to the head. She nuzzled it with her nose. “Mommy’s perfect puppy and her perfect little cock. The softest and the prettiest in the whole entire world.”
“It’s all yours,” you assured, breathlessly. “Nobody else in the world gets to touch it.” You paused before giggling a little bit. “Except for maybe Natty sometimes. But only if mommy says it’s okay.”
She giggled. “That’s right, princess. You’re a smart little puppy.”
You nodded, letting her lift you off the desk and back into her lap. She grabbed a throw blanket from the couch and tossed it over your shoulders, using it to swaddle you into her chest.
You sat astride her lap, arms crossed over your own chest as you nestled into hers. She placed a kiss on your head, rubbing the back of your hair with her thumb.
“Get some rest now, puppy. Mommy’s got work to do.”
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penguininahottub · 5 months ago
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This is, by no means, original thought. However, after the release of Beatles ‘64, I just want someone to make a Beatles film that is for us. Forget the mainstream and do what Cynthia said had never happened - people getting the emotion right instead of just the facts. The Beatles story isn’t a success story, it isn’t a rags to riches story, it isn’t an even a story about genius, it’s a story that has the power to change the world and one that will be told for ever. We are living in an era where we get to witness a myth being made and so in tribute to the oral tradition, we need to be the myth-makers. Someone needs to tell the story. I hope it will be Paul. I fear it won’t. Perhaps he can’t or shouldn’t, perhaps he won’t be believed. He definitely won’t be if everyone, including him, keeps recycling the same tropes. We know there’s no new stuff to be created, but there is a new light to be shed on what we know is there. This is beginning to sound a bit like the discovery of the Book of Mormon. No one needs another religion, but we do need is for someone to actually attempt to approach this seismic cultural event with an honest and open perspective.
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Yoko allowed John to believe he was the genius. John’s canonisation (his manufactured image does him no favours) means that we can forget that Paul was the revered one in the 60s. He was the chosen one - in every way. John clocked it at their very first meeting.
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“I half thought to myself, He’s as good as me, I’d been kingpin up to then. Now, I thought, if I take him on, what will happen?”- John
He took a risk, he made his choice and then never again believed in his own ultimate superiority. The story he’d told himself growing up, was that nobody was capable of spotting his genius because they were all below him. Surely a trauma response to being abandoned by his parents. Never could stand to be ignored, forever desperate to be seen and yet incapable of taking off the armour of cruelty. Look at me! Paul was the same, not armour but a wall of charm. Underneath John was soft and Paul is that almost impenetrable wall. They let each other in, and each betrayed the other. Those instincts of self-preservation that John spoke about.
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Anyway, he took the chance on Paul, because he wanted to be somebody and Paul and him together made that a real possibility. Also, Paul was fucking hot and clever and talented. He was also a non-conforming weirdo who made everything look effortless and wouldn’t join John’s gang and wouldn’t let him lead. I wonder if this was Paul knowing, from the first moment of seeing John as was then confirmed by subsequent sightings and (I suspect) recces, strategically carried out to observe John (oh that bus worship carries some significance beyond an appreciation for public transport), that he knew how to handle John. Handle and manage John, in order to make him his very own.
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(Is it him? Does it matter, because Paul has told us he “noticed” John many times, even before the chocolate bar.)
But, all the Paul adulation, especially John’s own uncontrollable, unconditional veneration, got to be too much. He couldn’t keep his jealousy in check. No quantity of material objects, women, money, food, fame soothed the ache for long enough. He thought Yoko, and because I am sure this is what Yoko promised him, was the only person who would always be in awe of him. She wasn’t, and the really tragic part is that Paul was from the jump, he still is and his faith never waivered.
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If only they’d been able to maintain the connection and never lose the ability to read each other’s minds.
They burned too brightly. They loved too hard.
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dokidokitsuna · 1 year ago
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The Diary of Penny Polendina
The other day I was inspired to try working on a different NeverFell Projects installment, one that would probably be a lot shorter and quicker to write, because it's not like I care that deeply about Penny, right??
Well, I was incredibly wrong. ^^; So wrong that I'm actually having trouble with this story now...essentially, Penny goes through a bit of a 'rebellious phase' (gross oversimplification, but that's all you get for now) and there are, surprisingly, a lot of aspects of that character arc that I want to explore. Plus, a pivotal connection with Pyrrha, the climax of which I haven't quite figured out yet...
God only knows if I'll be able to finish, or if I'll just write the first 2/3rds of the story and leave it at that. But I figured I might as well warm up by talking about the designs. ^^
Penny's new look is basically 'Disney's Pinocchio, color picked from Arthur Watts' character design'~
I didn't necessarily want her to look evil, just...bolder. Like she specifically picked 'daring' items that maybe her father or Ironwood's PR team would rather she didn't wear, at least not compared to the more innocent frilly pastels she had on before. Between the chest window, midriff, and short sleeves, she's actually showing a lot more skin than before, despite still being 90% covered up. ^^;
Those multicolored wrist accessories are prototype weapons invented by Dr. Watts, that mix and pressurize Dust from the cartridges to cast "artificial magic". This way I get to do a bit of the 'Winter Maiden Penny' stuff in this Vol. 3-locked AU~
Penny's magic usage is one of the things that stumped me when writing this story...In NeverFell, magic isn't just glowy rainbow lasers or weather powers-- it essentially allows the user access to any conceivable semblance at any time; its potential is limitless. Being a beginner, Penny would probably just come up with one signature 'spell' to use in tandem with her Floating Array...but I can't decide what I want her to do. ^^; I think I'd like for her to do something connected to dance, because I feel like that's something unique to her, the way she dances with her weapons before striking. Nobody ever points out how the "robot" in the cast is the one who chooses to spend energy on unnecessary movements that aren't even used to maneuver around an enemy; they're just cute and fun. ^^ I think that's a great encapsulation of who Penny is~
Redesigning Pyrrha is always super difficult, because her original design is so perfect. But I like this end result a LOT. ^^ I may need to adjust the pant legs a bit, but overall it feels like a very believable alt outfit that keeps the spirit of the character.
Pyrrha is another one of the stumbling blocks in this story, because I'm now forced to create at least one malleable personality trait for her-- i.e. one that isn't intrinsically tied to Jaune and/or the plot. Something that she could actually take into a meaningful relationship with a different character... I had the idea to expand her "I'm sorry!" gag into a real guilt complex, where she has trouble letting go of instances where she's made mistakes or hurt someone. In this case, dismembering Penny 1.0 and essentially ending her life. :T She seeks out 2.0 in a desperate effort to make things right, and ends up helping her with ...things, and growing as people or whatever, and all that other stuff I have yet to write. ^^;
I just realized that Pyrrha could use her polarity semblance to pull Penny towards her in a situation where they need to reach each other...that's so cute. ^^ I gotta remember that~
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deadliestpieceontheboard · 8 months ago
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The Minyard-Hemmick Columbia House
OK so @codename-adler made a post about the Columbia House DAYS ago and so I finally finished my project of building it on The Sims (and creating the psu custom content for it hihi).
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Even pre-2008 crash and with Eric's help, I don't see Nicky being able to afford a very big or fancy house. From his perspective, this is a place for him to take care of the twins for 2-ish years and leave it with a payable mortgage for for their adult life, staying for college was a happy surprise. So the whole place is very 90s-Tilda's-stuff-and-second-hand-essential, with ugly carpet and even uglier popcorn ceiling.
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Quick overview of the floor plan: the kitchen has a view of the stairs per post-Drake scene, Nicky's bedroom where Neil wakes up from his first trip to Eden's is downstairs just like the bathroom he runs away from.
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Here we have the common area. I think between Nicky's childhood home stolen leftovers, Aaron's stuff from his mom and Andrew history in foster homes, they just keep a lot of shit in boxes that never got properly moved in. Special notes for the Eden's poster above the kitchen table and the recliner+couch that Kevin and Neil sleep at.
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The infamous desperation-is-a-valuable-lubricant window in Nicky's/downstairs bathroom, and a tiny hallway for cleaning stuff.
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Nicky's room is obviously a mess. I built it as if it was meant to be used as a laundry room or storage, which is why there's no built-in wardrobe nor carpet, and why Nicky insisted he took it to give the twins more comfort. (he also wanted a bathroom for himself)
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Upstairs there's nothing but the twins' mugshots taped to the wall and yet another box of leftover stuff. Their shared bathroom is very simple, but I don't think they can fully see their faces in the mirror.
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Finally, the twins' bedrooms. Aaron's has a little more personality, since he wanted space for a desk and therefore got the bigger room. Andrew still isn't used to decorating his own space and doesn't care much about it, but he thought the no smoking sign was hilarious.
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theavocadosthree · 18 days ago
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Random Headcanons I have for Steve Rogers~
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Steve Rogers is a man of habit, he has set times he does things, and like sto keep things in order to the best of his ability. His life can be chaos and *is* chaos.
He doesn’t have to set an alarm in the morning because it’s been engrained in his head since basic training to get up at exactly 05:00. That’s when they would play the horn at Camp Leigh, when he had to be up every single morning for their routine bed check and warmups.
Steve is a sucker for quiet mornings, taking time when he can, since time is all he has ever known. He has his morning ritual of blowing off steam in the morning and clearing his thoughts for the day by going on a run. The cool crisp air in the morning reminds him a little of going in the ice. It’s his way of pushing himself further on his runs, the faster he runs, the harder he pushes, the warmer he will feel and less familiar he will feel.
Sometimes he goes alone. Other times with Sam. When he goes with Sam he’s able to take his time…for the most part till he realizes how fast he’s running. Some times when he does run he forgets how fast he can go at times.
When he first started working out and running after the serum he forgot he didn’t need to carry around that old bulky inhalers they used to have back in the day. He still every once in a while will pat down his pocket before his run to see if his inhaler is there before doing any “strenuous” activity. Only to remember that he doesn’t need it anymore.
As much as Steve loves swing jazz, Marvin Gaye grew on him and had opened his music taste. He likes some soul music and doesn’t like spending tons of money on new records. Going to thrift stores confuses him at times because most of the stuff there is from between his time suspended. He will however search through the vinyl records at some antique stores when it’s most quiet and will grab whatever soul and jazz records they may have there.
Steve likes to cook and will listen to his records while either reading a book on his down time, cooking, or when he is sketching. Cooking brings him back to when his mother would care for him when he was sick, he’s tried many times to re create the chicken soup she would make for him.
going back to Steve pushing himself when he feels cold, that feeling…cold…chilly…getting goosebumps, it all brings back some harsh memories. It reminds him of the ice, how he had tried so desperately to get bucky to take his hand before he had plummeted to his “death” from the frozen abyss below the train, to the feeling of waking up still feeling a bit cold when they were defrosting him. Steve in this case will dress warm and his favorite season is summer, where he can’t feel cold. He can’t feel what still haunts him despite having his best friend back.
He likes wearing sweaters and joggers, and always bundles up during the winter time. Steve, when he first moved into the avengers tower, would piss Tony off with how high he would set the thermostat at night, though he eventually understood and that’s when he would make small quips as usual about how ‘Capsicle is gonna melt with how high the thermostat is.’
Please reblog and like to lemme know if you want more headcanons, or send me asks!
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retroellie · 1 year ago
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The Other Woman
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Summary: After seeing Lila kiss spencer in the pool, all reason leaves your body and creates a jealous mess inside your head. You can thing of only one way to dull the ache of jealousy.
A/N: This lowkey sucks but it's whatever :) I'm so unmotivated and my writers block is terrible omfg. I hope y'all enjoy though <3
Warnings: NSFW, cheating(ish), L*la, Mommy kink, face sitting, unprotected sex, unexperienced spencer, normal Criminal Minds stuff
Word count: 7.6K
Of course, you knew you were acting like a teenage girl, the petty silent treatment was straight of a high school romance. Reid was just trying to do his job, he was told to do something, and he did it. So, you shouldn't be angry. He was trying to prevent another victim; he was trying to protect Lila. Fucking Lila. If it were anyone else, then maybe you would just be able to forget it, but it wasn't someone else. It was her. It was hot blonde, breakout movie star Lila. Her and her perfect body, pretty face, long legs, her beautiful smile, and her money. She was everything a man could want, so what stopped Reid from wanting it too?
It made you uncomfortable in the first place, him being the one to stay with her. You asked Gideon if maybe Elle could do it or even Hotch, but he said since Lila and Spencer were somewhat friends, it would make her more comfortable. But what about you? What about your comfort? You decided to leave your pettiness out of your work, keep your jealousy to yourself, and catch the stalker so you could get out of here, go back to your stupid life with Reid.
You were already feeling sick enough about the entire thing, she could steal Reid from you in a heartbeat and all you could do was let her... But seeing him in the pool with her, her only in a bathing suit and him soaking wet. It played with your heartstrings, wondering everything that could've happened. Spencer couldn't look you in the eye, even after you asked him if he was okay. He just let out a small hum, looking down at his gun while he tried to dry it off. You knew something had happened; did you even want to know? You asked yourself.
You had no choice since Morgan shoved the camera in your face. The pictures of Lila and Spencer, her lips on his. 'Of course, she looked pretty when she hungrily made out with someone' you thought, rolling your eyes mentally. Spencer just watched your face, as it contorted into an unknown expression to him. He was a profiler, yet he could never read you...you were completely foreign to him. It intrigued him when he first met you, it frustrated him. Spencer Reid was a genius, he knew everything. So, him not knowing your brain frustrated him. That's exactly why he fell in love with you, he had to work to understand you and he ended up falling in love with you trying to figure you out.
Spencer opened his mouth to explain himself, but you dismissed it by explaining how you didn't think that the man who took the photos was the unsub. You explain how "he was too cocky and too visible; the unsub would have been more careful than the trespassing paparazzi." You did have a new lead however and you didn't hesitate before you ran off to go follow it. You just wanted to get away from Spencer, you needed to be away from him. You should have heard him out, you would've heard him out but as said before... It was Lila. Girls like her always got what they wanted; they didn't even have to fight for it either. So, you knew how this went, Spencer would leave you for her and you would have to work with him for the rest of your life knowing... you allowed him to be stolen.
You eventually caught the unsub, well Spencer did. It was one of Lila's friends, Maggie. She was desperately in love with Lila but Lila wasn't in love with her back, she killed her victims to show her love for Lila. You somehow understood how she felt as fucked up as it sounds. You understand why people kill for the people they love, how they would do anything just for the person they love. You could see yourself doing that for Spencer, it scared you of what you were willing to do for him. After Maggie had been caught, Hotch told the team to meet back at the local police departments to make their reports. However, you headed back to the hotel, stating that you had fallen sick to Hotch. Obviously hotch knew, he wasn't stupid and he didn't need to be a profiler to know what you were feeling. You were hurt.
So here you are now, in your hotel room... alone. You were writing your reports for other cases, completely neglecting the Lila case. In the state you were in, you couldn't even think of a blonde woman without the heartbreak sensation creeping up again. You hoped to do other cases, the most gruesome cases... The cases with blood and guts would help make that feeling go away or at least dissolve the lump in your throat. You felt like you were 16 again, watching as your prom date went into the bathroom with the popular girl. Your stomach sank as you saw him holding onto her hand, leading him into the biggest stall... all you could do was watch. You suddenly felt every stitch of your dress, all your organs working together, every light molecule on your skin. It was hell.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by a knock at your door, your heart dropping as it did. You would think of years of profiling psychopaths, you would be able to handle a knock at the door. For some reason that knock was the scariest thing to you. You sighed softly, putting the paperwork that was sprawled out on the hotel bed to the side and throwing yourself over the side of the bed. You walked to the door, the cold air of the hotel room making you shiver. Your hand touched the cold doorknob, pulling the door open and seeing a figure. Your eyes adjusted and soon you were met with his brown ones.
"Hi..." He said, giving you a soft smile.
"Hi." You said coldly.
It was an awkward encounter for sure, something that happens often but it's more comfortable than this. As of now, all you could think about was Spencer's face smashed up against hers. You were now hyper-aware of everything around you, feeling as though you could hear the colors making up the room. Spencer just stood there, hands in his pockets and giving you that strange grin.
"You weren't at the police station... Hotch told me you were feeling sick." He started, trying to pick up a conversation but for the first time since you met Spencer Reid... he was at a loss for words.
You nodded, confirming Hotch's statement. You could tell what he wanted to ask, so desperately. You were a profiler, you could tell by his fidgeting hand, his eye twitch, the way he couldn't make eye contact with you for more than 4 seconds... He was holding himself back. Spencer knew he did wrong, very wrong. Not only with you but professionally. You're not supposed to kiss a civilian you are told to keep watch on as a federal agent. It's inappropriate and wrong... but Reid could care less about that fact, the kiss meant nothing to him. He was more worried about you. You hadn't talked to him since you saw him in the pool with Lila, you didn't tell him you were going back to the hotel, you didn't even kiss him goodbye before you left Lilas. You bit your lip softly, playing with the flesh as you looked down at your feet.
"Uh yeah..." You started, looking back up at him. "Must have eaten something bad or something..."
Spencer didn't believe you, not for a second. He was never good with social cues but at this moment, he could read the situation better than anyone. However, Spencer has never been in a relationship before... you were his first everything. He'd never been exposed to the petty drama that comes with having a girlfriend, so he wasn't too sure how to go with this conversation. He knew he did wrong, but how does he go about communicating that with you? He doesn't want to make it seem like you're overreacting or you are stupid for being mad... damn, maybe he's overthinking it now. If Spencer Reid is good at anything though, it's statistics.
"You know..." He starts, about to go on one of his Reid rants. "Statistically, 58% of the time people don't actually have anything wrong with their stomach. Mostly it's more psychological than it is physical. Mostly caused by anxiety, guilt or anger."
You were used to these Reid rants at this point. Being with Spencer Reid for 2 years and knowing him for even longer, you have a lot of useless information in your brain that he has nonconsensually given you. You let that information sink into the part of your brain that you will most likely not return to, not even going to attempt to comprehend what number he had just given you. Your face automatically contorted itself into a look that said "Please shut up, leave me alone, and never perceive me again.".
"You think I'm lying?" You ask, not sure whether you're actually offended or it's because you can't get the picture of her kissing him out of your head.
It wasn't Spencer's intention to make you upset, no... that's not why he came here. He just knew that it was deeper than a stomach ache, he knew that your mind was going wild with possibilities and him knowing you, he knew you wouldn't say anything about it. Spencer knew why you did the work you did, he knew you couldn't solve your own problems so you decided to solve others. That's why Spencer didn't wait for you to come to him because he knew you never would. Spencer shook his head eagerly.
"No! no... of course not." He blurted out, looking everywhere but your eyes. "I'm just saying that i think the stomach ache your feeling isn't really a stomach ache... maybe it has something to do with the thing that happened with me and Lila."
The sound of her name sliding off his tongue sounded so frictionless... so effortless. It made you wonder if your name sounded the same, suddenly you forgot what your name sounded like coming out of his mouth. You shook that feeling off real quick, hoping if you pushed it down far enough it would simply go away. You weren't stupid though, you knew what pushing things down would do. It would turn you into something not human, or maybe something that is between a human and something else... it would turn you into Maggie or maybe even the hundreds of people you catch a year. It's funny how you can figure out another person's shit so fast, yet you are still wondering what your shit even is.
You sigh softly, rolling your eyes as you step away from the door and making your way to the small hotel "kitchen". The only thing the kitchen was good for was making coffee or tea, something that you have been living on for the past couple of years. You've found yourself purposely making it bad, the BAU will ruin you like that. You poured yourself some coffee, hearing Spencer walk in and shut the door behind him.
"Or maybe I just have a stomach ache." You say softly, putting the coffee pot back and then pouring pounds of sugar into your coffee. "Besides, it doesn't really matter anymore. The unsub was caught, Lilas safe... we did our job."
Spencer bites his lip nervously, watching you bring your coffee up to your lips and take a swig. As said before, Spencer isn't good with relationships or girls... or really anything that isn't statistics and books, so he isn't sure how to tell you that he is worried about you. He likes you, he'd probably go as far as to say he loves you and he doesn't want this to end. He knows that this will not end well, that your bottled-up emotions will be the end of your relationship. Spencer notices all the case reports scattered over your bed, seeing how you haven't even started on the most recent one... lilas.
"I read in one of my books about human relationships that most relationships end due to no com..." He starts, being interrupted by your tired, jealous self.
"Please, Spencer! enough with the statistics..." You spit, almost yelling... something you've never done to read. You turn to face him, coffee cup still in your hand, burning your skin. "Just spit out what you're trying to say to me."
Spencer gulps slightly, seeing how angry you've already become and you've only bottled this much hatred for less than a day. He knows you don't mean to yell, he knows it. He knows this job does this to a person, makes them angry... messes with their head until they are only a shell of themselves. Spencer adjusts himself, not sure what he is going to say but his plan is just to speak... hoping that the words will form as he does so. He licks his lips, taking in a breath and facing you finally.
"What happened between me and Lila..." He paused, gathering all the courage and breath he had left in this moment. "It meant nothing. I mean yeah we kissed, I mean she kissed me. I told her I had a girlfriend, multiple times. She still did it and I was shocked that I let it happen... but I felt nothing. I swear. And I know you don't want to talk about it, it's uncomfortable and it hurts you too, but I want to talk about it because it hurts me when I think it hurts you. This job can take whatever it wants from me... but I can't live with myself if I let it take you from me." He rambles out.
His breath gets heavy, all the oxygen from his lungs being taken from that single rant. He could've gone on, he wanted to go on but the look on your face made him stop. You looked even more hurt... or did you look relieved... Spencer couldn't tell, you were too hard to read for him. You couldn't explain the feeling either, it was a mix of everything. It was a mix of guilt and content... but most importantly, lust. The ramble had your face heating up and your underwear dampening. You shouldn't be feeling this way at this moment, no... not when your poor boyfriend just poured his heart out to you. but the way his voice was whiny... the way he begged for you, the way his face was now flush... How could you not?
You set your coffee cup down, making your way over to his tall figure. His breathing stopped almost as he could feel your presence getting closer to him, he'd never felt this uneasy in your presence but in this moment, he was afraid of what your next move would be. You were now face to face with Spencer, looking up at him with doe eyes as you watched him nervously fidget with his bottom lip. This feeling you felt was not new, it was something you felt for Spencer when he did pretty much anything. The deep fire that sparked within your stomach was always there when around him, something you were able to control and others... Well, you had to strip him down right then. However, you had never felt this feeling be so potent, so overwhelmingly rich.
"You really mean it?" You said simply, wanting nothing more than to hear him say he wanted you more than you wanted him. Spencer cleared his throat, shifting on his feet as he nervously stood in front of you.
"Yes...I really mean it Y/N." He admitted, his voice laced with desperation. He just wanted his girlfriend, that's all he's ever wanted.
You grin softly, eyes slightly watering as you hear his confession. You knew that Spencer would do anything for you, anything. But hearing it... hearing it gave you a sudden power rush. It made your hands shake, complete dominance running through your body. Your grin caused Spencer to relax, knowing that maybe there was a chance you could forgive him. Your hand snaked its way up to his tie, playing with it. Spencer watched this action, and the sudden realization of how you were feeling crept up on his mind. You weren't the one for punishments, you believed sex should be something that is for praising the other... not punishing. However, the mere thought of you punishing Spencer made both of you weak in the knees.
"i want to believe you, Spence..." You spoke your voice slightly over a whisper. Your hands are still rubbing the soft fabric of his tie between your fingers, flicking your eyes back up to his. "But I can't when you're using that mouth to make excuses...."
You smile up at him innocently, as if you weren't teasing him. Spencer gulped down a whimper, your voice almost having him bust in his pants all ready. You yanked him down to your level by his tie, tugging on it roughly as you forced him to make eye contact with you. You took your free hand to push his hair back from his face, watching his tie rub roughly against his neck. You took your hand, leaving light touches all over his face... tracing every bump, every mole, every scar across his face. You thought he was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, but so did Lila.
"What can I do..." He started, pausing his sentence as he basked in your soft touches. "to uh... to make you believe me?"
You let out a chuckle, your finger pulling down his lip and then letting it bounce back up. You bit your lip, trying to keep your dominant persona up, but something about the way he was so desperate to please you... the fire burned hotter deep within you.
"I can't tell you... guess you just have to know." You stated. You wanted to keep him on edge, make him more desperate than he already was.
Spencer moaned softly as your grip on his tie tightened, his air getting restricted now but he felt... oddly good. You two were new to having sex at this point, Spencer had just given his virginity to you not even 2 months ago. Yet you both have had sex so often that you both knew each other's bodies inside and out already. He didn't know what he liked or what he wanted, all he knew was he wanted you and only you for the rest of his existence. Spencer couldn't help himself anymore, he smashed his lips into yours. The kiss was full of desperation, his hands making their way into your hair, sometimes pulling but mostly he used it to keep you in place.
It was messy and very sloppy, it was like a normal makeout session for you. Spencer couldn't help himself but to be messy with you, he wanted so much of you that it made him claw at your skin. You didn't mind it, you let him explore your mouth with only his tongue because you fed on his desperation. Your hands made it up to his cheeks, pressing his mouth even closer to you. Your teeth clashed with his, tongues fighting with each other, squirming against each other. You both could have stayed like this for hours, probably coming undone just by kissing but you wanted more.
"Spencer..." You moaned out, pulling him away from you slightly. You looked up at him, the desperation in his eyes to keep going. His lips were kiss-bitten, his cheeks red and his eyes wet. He whimpered at the loss of your lips, breathing heavily as you examined his face. "Take off your clothes and get on the bed."
Your voice was demanding, causing Spencer to jump to what you wanted him to do. You watched him eagerly take off his shirt, his tie getting stuck and frustrating him. Then he worked his way down to his pants, taking off his shoes while he was at it. He left his boxers on, knowing that you would soon take them off anyway. He sat on the bed, waiting patiently for you, feeling your eyes bore into his skin. Spencer had a strange build, skinny and lanky but his muscles were defined. You would basically drool every time you saw it, the first time you ever saw him naked you swear you came just by the view.
"Good boy..." You said, walking over to him as he sat on the edge of the bed. You set yourself on his lap, straddling him as you watched his face turn redder than it already had been. "I have been so good to you haven't I Spencer?"
You sat down on his lap, feeling his cock rock hard against the inside of your thigh. You moved his hair from his face, his hair still reeked of chlorine which created another wave of deep jealousy. Spencer nodded rapidly, his words getting stuck into his throat as you watched his face for an answer. You grinned softly, nodding with him as he let out a little hum.
"Yeah..." You started, feeling his body shake with anticipation. You leaned down, leaving soft kisses along his cheeks as you ground down softly on him. "I let you cum when you want to, let you cum inside me, I suck your dick whenever and wherever I put up with your begging and call you a good boy..."
Spencer moans softly at your words, his hands making their way to your hips as he tries to grind you down harder on his cock. His senses are already being clouded with complete lust, his need to cum is at a peak already. You chuckle down at him, his pathetic moans already filling the room and you have not even started. You trail your kisses to his mouth, forcing the kiss to be softer this time but his lips want more.
"I mean even when I should have slammed the door in your face..." You snap your hips down harshly, watching him moan out loudly. "Here I am, still calling you a good boy."
Although Spencer's moans create a softness inside of you, wanting nothing more than to let him come undone as you praise him, the deep jealousy that has been lingering in the room is creating something inhumane inside of you. You wanted to make him cry, wanted to crave insults into his skin, wanted to push him to the brink, and then take it all away from him. It's how he made you feel, seeing him in that pool with someone like Lila. even if he didn't even mean to. You knew Spencer didn't want Lila to kiss him, part of you knew that and you wanted to slap her for even putting Spencer into that position. However, you could use this anger and jealousy in a good way, a punishment that would leave Spencer feeling like he went to heaven and back.
"y/n... god..." Spencer moaned out, grinding his hips up to meet yours. You grinned softly, moving your hand from his cheek down to his neck.
His neck was already slightly red from his tie, the soft bruise already peeking through. It looked down pretty on his skin, he looked so pretty broken down. You wrapped your hand softly around his neck, setting one last kiss to his lips before you slammed him down on the bed. He gasped softly, breathing heavily as your actions scared him. He was flat on his back now, looking up at you as you straddled his hips. You could feel him throb against your thigh, his cock wanting to free him.
You took the hand wrapped around his neck, trailing it down his chest, down his belly, down his happy trail, pulling his underwear down so only his cock could spring free. You tsked softly, looking down at him as he squirmed. His cock was flush red, dripping precum as it screamed to be touched. It never failed to amaze you just how flustered and hard you could make Dr. Spencer Reid, the genius, the boy wonder.... pretty boy. You weren't exactly what you would assume his type would be, not that you weren't attractive but completely different from Spencer Reid.
You two were like night and day, favoring different things yet being made for each other. Sometimes you would get insecure about it, especially when you two were very public about your relationship. How could someone who knew exactly what they were doing be with someone like you? You thought, sometimes it kept you up at night. How someone like Spencer could be with you, how he could look at you and see only beauty. It freaked you out to say the least and maybe that's why the two of you were in the position in the first place, your insecurities getting the best of you.
"So needy already... I've barely touched you." You tease, biting your lip at the sight of him.
You set your hand on his cock, leaving feather-light touches to it as he squirmed more. You gripped it lazily, moving your hand up and down his cock. Your free hand began unbuttoning your dress pants, zipping them down, and yanking them off your body. You teased Spencer about being the eager one, but you couldn't handle much more of him not being inside you. Spencer threw his head back as you continued to stroke his cock at a slow pace, his eyes shut tight as he was already on the verge of cumming.
"That feel good honey?" You asked him, sure that he wasn't going to be able to answer you. "feels so warm... so wet..." You teased, drawing out your words to push his buttons even more.
You leaned down, hand still pumping his cock as you started leaving soft kissing along his neck, something you knew he loved dearly. Your hand movements were sloppy now, encouraging him to grind his hips into your hand. His thrusts were sporadic, no real rhythm as he was so clouded with the thought of cumming in your hand.
"Feel so... feel so good..." He moaned out, his mind not allowing him to think of a coherent sentence.
That was all you needed to know that he was close, that in the next seconds, he was going to make a mess out of your hand. You pumped him a few more times, watching as his body shook slightly. But then as his orgasm almost washed over him... you pulled your hand away. He whimpered softly, eyes filling with tears as his overstimulated and teased cock throbbed. Spencer had never felt this pathetic, just like you said, you let Spencer cum whenever he wanted to. So you helping him to the edge just to take it away in mere seconds, made this boy into a whiny mess. He would even go as far as to say you spoiled him, always allowing him to make his messes anywhere and everywhere.
"What... why.." He stuttered, not sure what to say but he felt he had been robbed of a mindblowing orgasm. His pouting made you smile, seeing how worked up and ashamed he had become.
"Awe, I'm so sorry baby..." You teased, kissing his neck softly as he desperately tried to feel for your lips with his. "But only good boys get to cum..."
Spencer bucked his hips up into nothing, his stolen orgasm making his stomach ache. Spencer would do anything, anything... just for you to let him cum. He would beg and plead for it, he would murder for it. The mere thought of Spencer willing to do anything just for your hand, sent your body into overdrive, the power rush taking over your own senses until it felt you could only be satisfied by seeing Spencer cry. Spencer huffed and puffed roughly as you continued to lay your kisses on his neck, knowing how weak it made him. His breathing was irregular and it felt as though with every struggling breath, his air was being stolen from him.
"Fuck... please..." He whimpered out, his hands reaching up to your hips once more trying to grind your body against the aching cock. "I'm sorry okay... fuck... I'm so sorry, I'll do anything... I'll be such a good boy for you, just please... fuck please Mommy!"
The word stumped you and took you completely off guard. Spencer was very new to sex and you were new to sex with him, but Mommy?!? You would've never guessed Spencer Reid would have a mommy kink, you should've known simply because it was clear. Spencer Reid has mommy issues, so seeing you as dominant during sex was basically a given, you're a profiler for god sake. You stopped your soft kisses on his neck, bringing your head up to see his horrified reaction to his words.
He was taken aback as well, those words feeling so wrong coming out of his mouth but yet so arousing to him. He always felt the need to hold back the word when you guys had sex, out of fear and him being ashamed. He knew he was safe with you, but something about a grown man calling his lover mommy felt inappropriate to him. It might be his denial or him being sexually insecure, but it just felt weird to him so the only word on his tongue at that moment was "sorry". little did he know though, the word slipping from his mouth did wonders on you. Your face heated up, your cunt wetter than ever, and your urge to cum at a peak.
"I'm so sorry... that was really weird, I'm so..." He started but was rudely interrupted by a very annoyed you.
"Spencer... it's fine, you worry too much." You giggled, trying to reassure him that you were more than okay with his surprising kink. You leaned down once more, pecking his lips with yours to hopefully put him at ease. He eagerly kissed you back, once again pulling you into a sloppy kiss. "How about you show Mommy what you can do with that mouth huh?" You said in between kisses.
Spencer let out a shaky breath, the possibility of how this night would end filling his brain. The shame he felt now was turning into something else, something enjoyable as you teased him about it. He nodded his head, agreeing to whatever you wanted him to do. You smirked, pulling your panties to the side and climbing up his body. Spencer wasn't sure what you were doing, never having been in this position before but his confusion was taken over by pure hunger when being face to face with your cunt.
"If it gets too much or you want to stop, tell me, okay honey?" You stated, looking down at him, his face already slick with your juices. He nodded, looking up at you with eyes that begged you to sit on his face.
You nodded back, getting yourself comfortable before lowering yourself down onto Spencer's face. He knew what to do almost immediately, licking your clit and nuzzling his nose straight into your cunt. Like everything Spencer when it came to sex, it was sloppy and eager. There was no real pace, just Spencer going crazy on your cunt. You couldn't help but rock your hips back and forth slightly, completely forgetting how good Spencer's tongue felt.
Spencer eating you out was no new thing, it happened quite often. He preferred when you two would use your tongues and fingers to pleasure each other. It felt more intimate to him and if he was being completely honest, he felt he was better with them than he was with his dick. He felt he had more control over you when he used his tongue, not to mention when you would touch him he would quite literally forget everything especially how to move his body. So eating you out made him feel more in control and in a career where he was always fighting for control, it was a nice change. Although this position you were in now, sitting on his face, was foreign to him, but he liked it.
You were starting to feel that coil inside you tighten, the sign that you were about to cum all over his face. You gripped the sheets, now moving your hips roughly to the movements of his tongue. Spencer had started sucking softly on your clit before teasing your opening with his tongue, he couldn't pick which he wanted to do so he tried to do both. For a minute there Spencer forgot he even had hands, his mind only on lapping at your cunt and tasting your juices flowing down his tongue.
"Spencer... fuck..." You moaned out, throwing your head back as you tried your best to stay upright. "remember your hands..." You directed him.
Spencer mentally scolded himself for that, knowing that in the past you scolded him for not using his hands. Spencer couldn't help it though, he wanted to taste all of you and his hands were the last thing he was worried about. Spencer brought one of his hands up to meet your cunt, digging his fingers into you. The feeling of his fingers exploring inside you had you grabbing at his hair, holding his face in place as you bucked your hips onto his fingers. Your movements only egged Spencer on, his fingers curling up to feel for your g-stop and his mouth latching onto your clit.
You were now the one who was a whimpering mess, curses fell from your lips and your hips forced themselves down onto Spencer. You were close, feeling that the coil became more tight as your back arched. Your thighs began to shake, your vision blurry as Spencer finally found your g-spot. It only took him only 3 curls of his fingers before that coil snapped.
"FUCK!" You screamed out, not surprised if the hotel heard you.
Spencer licked and pumped you through your orgasm, something you taught him how to do. You can remember the first time he had ever eaten you out, as soon as your cunt oozed out your juices... Spencer got scared that he had done something wrong, completely stopping his movements and cutting your orgasm short. You taught him that it was a good sign and what he should do while it was happening. You were proud to say that you taught Spencer right, you were the one who taught him how to please a woman... Can Lila say the same?
You hunched over on top of Spencer, shaking slightly as you recovered from your orgasm. Spencer slid his fingers out of you, placing them in his mouth as he licked them clean. You watched as he did, the sight alone creating a new wave of horniness over your body. He wanted every little speck of you, wanting to taste everything you had and he would gladly enjoy it. You shifted yourself down Spencer's body, once again straddling his hips.
"Was I a good mommy?" He asked innocently, his voice almost a whimper. He looked innocent as ever, even with his face soaked with your cum, he just looked so heavenly. You placed your hand on his cheek, wiping off the mess you had created.
"So good my love..." You whispered, watching his face turn a bright red once more. The words "my love" echoing in his ears, making his cock throb more. "How about mommy take care of you now huh?"
Your words rushed straight to Spencer's cock, forcing himself not to cum just from your words. Spencer nodded, breathing heavily as you pecked his lips with yours. You could taste your own cum on his lips along with spencers cherry chapstick that he always seems to be wearing. You let Spencer explore your mouth once more, taking what he needed from you as you once again wrapped your hand around his cock and lined it up with yourself. Spencer bucked up to meet your hips, being the greedy little bastard he was and wanting to thrust himself into you. You chuckled at his neediness but gave into his wishes, slowly setting yourself down onto him.
"Fuc..." Spencer whined out, throwing his head back in bliss.
You didn't know what happened at first, thinking that maybe Spencer was just that excited to be inside you once again. Then you felt it, his hot cum coating your walls already. You hadn't even put him all inside you and he had already come. Spencer's face contorted into pure pleasure, nails digging into your hips as he drenched your insides with cum. He was too in the clouds to realize what he had just done, it hit him too suddenly and way too hard for him to think. but eventually, he came down and sudden embarrassment ran cold through his body.
"Shit... I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just h..." He started, rapidly trying to apologize for cumming so early even if it wasn't under his control. His apologies got cut off by you fully sitting down on his cock, his cock now nestled deep inside of you.
Spencer once again through his head back, his words fading into whimpers and whining. You smiled at his reaction, your cunt feeling his dick get hard once more. Spencer never knew that he would be in this position tonight or really ever. He never knew in a hundred years he would be deep inside his coworker, a babbling mess underneath her, and basically prematurely ejaculate inside of her. but somehow this is where Spencer feels he wants to be, maybe not the cumming so soon part but being underneath you.
"No need to apologize Spence..." You moan out, shifting your hips slightly. You bring your hands up to your shirt and slowly work your way down the buttons. "You deserved to cum in mommy, you did so good with your mouth."
You yank your shirt off, revealing your black lacy bra Spencer had bought you days before. Spencer's breath hitched, his memory of buying that in the first place coming back. He was at the store, buying whatever he needed for that night when he accidentally stumbled into the women's undergarments section. He attempted to cover his eyes, but for some reason, they kept landing on the black lacy bra you had right now. It was embarrassing for him to be buying it, going to the checkout, and praying the cashier didn't even think twice about it, it didn't help that the image of you in it had him rock hard.
You bucked your hips softly, feeling every single inch of Spencer nuzzling inside of you. You watched his eyes, seeing how they planted on your boobs. You chuckled softly, reaching your hands to him that were sitting on your hips and bringing them up. You placed his hands on your breast, knowing that Spencer would be too shy to do it himself. You held his hands there, feeling his hands squeeze them gently as you did.
"I wanna..." You start, being interrupted by a soft moan that escapes your mouth as Spencer starts to thrust his hips up to meet yours. "I wanna make you do it again... i want you to cum in me again..."
That is all Spencer needed to hear, his stomach already creating a tight coil that could break at any moment. Your thrust was starting to pick up, his cock being pulled almost completely out of you before you slammed your hips back down to push him all the way into you. With Spencer's cock deep inside you and his hands squeezing your tits roughly, you felt you had died and went straight to heaven, or was this hell? Because you doubted you could find sex like this in heaven, this was dirty and sinful. The curses dripping from each of your mouths and spencers moans that sounded like something straight of a porno filled the room and most likely the entire floor of the hotel.
You couldn't hold yourself up anymore, hunching over Spencer as your hips continued to thrust roughly. Spencer moved his hands back to your hips for the hundredth time tonight, helping you thrust his cock inside of you. You were both overstimulated, your clit sending shocks of electricity through your body every time it made contact with Spencer's lower stomach. The coil inside you threatened to burst, frustration filled you as you tried desperately to bust it open and make more of a mess than it already had been. You reached down in between your legs, rubbing the small bud and sending lightning through your body.
"Fuck... gonna cum...gonna cum on your cock..." You moaned out, stuttering every time Spencer's cock filled you up.
Spencer took that as a sign to thrust harder back into you, moving his hips up and forcing your hips down. You were on the edge, every single inch of your body on fire as you fucked yourself onto Spencer. and with one single hard, deep thrust from Spencer... the coil in you snapped once again. You shoved your face into the sheet next to Spencer's head, screaming into them as you came all over Spencer's cock. You felt this feeling couldn't get any better until you felt Spencer's hot cum flow through you once again.
You were too in your own world to even hear Spencer's loud scream/moan he did as he came deep inside you, you both being thrown out of your own bodies as you came. Your juices flow together to make one big mess out of the sheets, something that will be embarrassing for the housekeepers to clean in the morning. You both laid there for a minute, basking in each other's warmth and feeling spencers cum seep out of your cunt.
It was strange to you, how you would much rather Spencer's cum dripping out of you than... well anything in life. You weren't exactly the most sex-driven person, but at this moment you knew why some people were. Spencer somehow got into your head, planting himself into it and keeping it hostage. With that being said, you couldn't stay mad at Spencer, you honestly completely forgot why you had been pushing him in the first place. The name Lila is so far away from your thoughts, that you don't actually care anymore.
You slid Spencer out of you with a wince, flopping down next to him as he came down from his high. You shifted to your side so you could watch his pretty face, his eyes fluttering open, his mouth trying to steal whatever air he could get... He looked blissful. You felt oddly proud about it, knowing that you were the one to do that. However, through the pride, you felt a deep guilt. Spencer was the kindest boy you have ever met, he chose you to give his heart to. Yet you were upset with him because he kissed another girl? No, he didn't kiss her... she kissed him. You felt petty now, the regret of ever questioning Spencer's loyalty mended into your brain.
"I'm not mad at you, you know?" You're tired, worn-out voice making it sound like a whisper. Spencer sighed softly, clear that he had forgotten as well and now he's remembered it all again. "It's just...seeing her with you, it just brought me back to high school you know? It made me feel how I did when fucking Rachel Clark tongue fucked my prom date..." You let out a soft sigh, playing with Spencer's hair as you talked.
"You know it's normal to feel that way, especially when you had a similar experience," Spencer explains, going on another one of his Reid rants. "And well, anyone would feel like that whether you had a similar experience with it or not. I know I would." Spencer's eyes wandered to the ceiling, closing his eyes due to utter exhaustion.
You couldn't imagine Spencer Reid ever getting jealous, he was always so calm about everything. You wondered what it would look like. Would he pin you to the bed and fuck the shit out of you like you did him or would he just not know how to deal with those emotions. You honestly wouldn't want to put him into a situation where he would feel that, you couldn't do that to little Spencer. He was innocent, as if the world had not touched him yet even if he does look at the dark underbelly of humans every single day.
"Yeah... well you won't ever have to worry about that my love." You said softly, cuddling yourself further into his side as you closed your eyes as well. "You're stuck with me..."
Spencer chuckled softly, at complete peace that he was stuck with you. If you were the person he was stuck with for the rest of his life, he would die a happy man. You two didn't even bother wrapping up in the blankets, you just needed each other's warmth as you lulled each other to sleep. The presence of jealousy and anger nowhere to be seen, maybe y'all didn't talk it out tonight but you sure did fuck and made up. You wouldn't have it any other way. 
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brucewaynehater101 · 9 months ago
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please i am frothing at the mouth I NEED to hear your take on how the bats find out about JJ and Tim losing his wing in the Wingless Wing AU and how they react.
please brucewaynehater101 my lord and savior give me the angst i so desperately crave
Of course! With praise like that, how could I refuse.
I hope you enjoy the angst :D
Here's the post in reference for anyone unfamiliar.
Alright. In that post, I mentioned they find out at the same time they find out about Tim's missing spleen. We'll call that the funny path.
Ye asked for angst, though. Here's some delicious angst:
TW: JJ, wing removal, brief mentions of anti-hybrid sentiments, mentions of trafficking/selling body parts
Tim's back constantly aches. It's been years, but he can still feel the harsh hacking into his shoulder blades as his wings were removed. He can't bring himself to look at the jagged lines in his back.
When Bart saw the then raised pink scars, his face morphed into grim understanding. With careful movements, he slowly got Robin used to pressure and hands on his back. It took months for every small step forward, but the speedster was patient. He was casual and never drew attention to the small gestures. He analyzed the subtle shifts in Tim's body and backed off without being asked.
The rest of YJ eventually caught on as well. When Tim was finally able to have people's palms upon his back, Kon, Cassie, and Cissie would bicker about scar tissue massages. Eventually, it became a team bonding activity to help others with their pain (whether through massages, offering heat/ice, or moral support).
When Tim gained a gnarly gash upon his throat, the same careful process occurred again.
YJ was broken up after Tim returned with a scar upon his abdomen, but Bart, Kon, and Cassie still helped with his healing process as he did for them. They supported each other through every scar, visible or not.
When Tim first got the scars, he spent a year teaching the muscles on his back how to work properly. He added exercises, stretches, compression, and heat packs to his daily routine. It was insanely difficult to research and experiment by himself, but he managed. By the time he offered himself up as Robin, he already had strong arm and back muscles. They weren't enough for Robin, but they worked.
While Tim was Robin, he took extra care not to get damaged on his back. He lied and hid any injuries he did obtain, often seeking out YJ for help instead (after they reach that point of trust). This process worked for years. There were a few close calls, but Tim has called Kon in extreme cases.
At first, Tim didn't want anyone near his back. He hid his scars from the batfam because of his trauma and his internalized anti-hybrid sentiments (he knew most of the Waynes were hybrids, but he also thought they would kick him out if they knew he was too. Just the horrid stuff his parents spouted and conditioned learning). Eventually, as he grew closer to YJ and more comfortable in his skin, he still hid from the Waynes.
He considered telling Dick a bunch of times, but everyone else didn't foster a relationship with him where he felt comfortable. Cass knew, but she also isn't a hybrid.
There's a ton of factors in play for why Tim never told them.
When Tim gets fired from Robin, it's agonizing. He created fake wings just to maintain that role.
In his desolation, he comes to the realization that he can change his wings. Instead of the bird ones Robin has always had (at least until Damian [which is another point of contention]), Tim can have back his dragon ones. They'll be fake, but some part of him aches to have wings resembling his old ones.
Dragon wings are rare, and this causes some tension between Tim and his family when he returns. Out of all the wings he chose to fashion, why did he choose the rare, highly sought-after ones? To their knowledge, he isn't even a hybrid. They trust Tim, obviously, but him choosing dragon wings doesn't help their already strained relationships with him.
Jason especially, as someone whose had to take down a fuck ton of hybrid trafficking rings or underground selling of hybrid parts, has issues with Tim choosing dragon wings.
To prove a point, Jason chats about a pair of dragon wings that keeps getting sold around the black market. It's been years of Red Hood chasing these wings down to try to stop them from being passed around. He wants to honor them by giving them a proper burial.
One of the reasons Jason is so hung up about them is that they are so so small. They obviously came from a child.
Tim turns pale. Jason thinks that Tim finally realizes the error in his ways until the teen asks Jason to describe them.
Hood is pissed as fuck that Tim wants descriptions of the wings and initially misunderstands.
Then he notes the way Tim's arms stop in an aborted movement to wrap around himself. He catches the paleness to his face, the trembling of lips, and the hunted look in his eyes.
Jason hesitantly answers.
Tim collapses to his knees and throws up.
No one else in the family was there for this interaction. However, they see the effects.
Jason no longer berates Tim (particularly about the dragon wings).
Joker, the next time he escapes, loses a leg.
Jason and Tim hang out more with the older being more affectionate and mother henning.
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eoe-1379 · 1 month ago
Text
Between the stacks
18+ MDNI: Sexual themes and language
SnowApple Smut-Shot continuation of The Bits Between 2 (requested by @hwangintakswifey )
This isn't as long as it could be but I've got lots more SnowApple in the works, saving the longer form stuff for the chapters, so stay tuned :)
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"Don't play dumb," Zayne chided.
Caleb sighed, glancing around to ensure no one was nearby before answering quietly.
"What do you want me to say, huh? That I liked it? That I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your cock? Fuck, I've even been dreaming about - never mind. I like you too, okay? Is that good enough?"
Zayne smirked.
"I suppose."
"You're a dick," Caleb retorted, smiling.
"Apparently that's what you like about me," Zayne quipped.
Caleb rolled his eyes.
“Whatever. Are you in, or not?”
Zayne crossed his arms and leaned nonchalantly against the shelves as if pondering a complex decision. In reality, he already had his answer, but he was thoroughly enjoying watching Caleb squirm.
"I'm open to it," Zayne murmured, his green eyes sparkling as the sun streamed through the windows, casting a beam of sunlight over the dim, dusty stacks. "Shall I come over for dinner later so we can discuss the details?"
“Sure, that works.”
A moment of silence passed between them. Eyes studied lips, fingers clenched, and breaths quickened. Zayne wore a knowing smirk, observing Caleb's cheeks redden so adorably.
"I'll be honest," he began, "I've been thinking about that night quite a bit as well. Among other things."
"Other things?" Caleb asked, hooking a finger into Zayne's belt loop. He pretended to examine the material, but in reality, he was imagining gripping the fabric so tightly around his knuckles that the waistband constricted Zayne's slender hips, drawing him nearer.
Zayne watched Caleb’s hair, the boy's gaze bent out of view.
"I haven't had much occasion to get physical with other men in my life. You were the first."
Caleb looked up.
“Really?”
“Is that surprising?”
“Kind of. You seemed so comfortable.”
Zayne smirked.
"I was with people I trust," he said, taking a chance as he carefully reached out to caress Caleb's lower lip with his thumb.
Caleb tensed, his muscles flexing with restrained effort as he bit back a noise of arousal.
“Don’t do this to me here.” Caleb’s breath grew ragged.
“Shouldn’t we make sure we're still compatible? What if you don't feel the same now as you did then?”
Caleb narrowed his gaze, his purple eyes meeting Zayne's green ones in a flash of lustful understanding. He pulled on Zayne's waistband, drawing him closer before slamming an arm on the shelves and pressing him further into the books with the breadth of his chest. Their faces hovered, mere inches apart.
“I know what I want,” Caleb said roughly.
Zayne's lips parted in an invitation, one that Caleb accepted without any hesitation.
He crashed his lips onto Zayne's, his free hand encircling the med student's neck to support their passionate embrace. Their muscles battled for dominance as they intertwined tongues, like lovers separated for centuries, as if they could only breathe the air from each other's lungs.
Zayne forcefully grabbed Caleb's face, and Caleb's strong arms encircled his lower back to keep them both in an upright embrace. Tongues wrestled, teeth clashed, and hands roamed. Zayne released a desperate breath as Caleb finally pulled away, though neither broke their embrace.
“Are you satisfied?” Caleb asked, violet gaze lidded as he stared hungrily at Zayne’s lips.
“Not even a little.” Zayne pulled Caleb back, and they started all over again.
Caleb allowed the solid wall of his body to press Zayne flat against the spines of higher education books. He stroked his hair, squeezed his biceps, and eventually, undid the belt buckle around his hips.
"What if someone sees?" Zayne gasped between passionate kisses.
"Fuck ‘em," Caleb growled low, skillfully creating space for his hand down the front of Zayne's slacks. His fingers brushed against the man's erection through his briefs, causing Zayne to twitch.
"Mmph," Zayne moaned into Caleb's mouth as his hand began to stroke over the fabric. Initially gentle, he teased Zayne the way he so enjoyed, until he could feel the wetness of pre-cum seeping through the thin fabric. Then, with eagerness, he freed Zayne's smooth cock from its confines, taking care to maintain the man's dignity by shielding their actions behind his thigh. He skillfully spread the pre-cum down Zayne's shaft with precise strokes, observing Zayne's sensual reactions unfold on his usually composed features.
Caleb's touch was firm yet tender, his hand moving rhythmically along Zayne's shaft. Zayne's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as waves of pleasure coursed through him. Caleb watched, captivated by the raw vulnerability on Zayne's face, the way his typically guarded expression melted into pure, unadulterated desire.
Zayne's fingers dug into Caleb's shoulders, his knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. He opened his eyes, locking gazes with Caleb. There was a silent question lingering there, a plea for more. Caleb responded by pressing their bodies closer, his free hand moving to cradle Zayne's face, thumb gently brushing against his cheek.
Their lips met again, this time with a new urgency, a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface now boiling over. Caleb's hand moved faster on Zayne's cock, his own arousal straining against his pants. He wanted to take this further, to explore every inch of Zayne, but he also wanted to savor this moment, the feeling of their bodies pressed together, the taste of Zayne's lips on his, the sound of Zayne's ragged breaths filling his ears.
Zayne broke the kiss, his forehead resting against Caleb's as he panted, breathless.
“You have to stop,”
“I don't have to do anything,” Caleb said through a grin, continuing his pace.
"I can't walk out of the library covered in...mmm," Zayne's head rolled back against the shelf, his teeth biting his lower lip in ecstasy, unable to even complete his thought.
"Ohhh, right," Caleb said, slowing to a stop and making sure to savor the last few long, firm strokes before he looked around again and knelt between Zayne's trembling knees. "Let me help with that."
"Uhn, fuck,” Zayne's arm swung out wildly for support, grabbing desperately onto the shelf behind him as Caleb's hot mouth slid around his cock.
Caleb's tongue swirled around in a way that threatened to make Zayne lose his balance. His fingers found a hold in Caleb's hair, his grip tightening as Caleb pleasured him. The sounds of their heavy breathing and intimacy filled the otherwise quiet library, just soft enough so others wouldn't hear.
Caleb's hand found its way to Zayne's balls, his touch gentle yet firm. He rolled them in his palm, the sensation causing Zayne to buck his hips. Caleb took the hint, his mouth moving faster, his tongue flicking against the sensitive head of Zayne's cock.
Zayne was close, he could feel it. The pleasure was building, coiling tight in his stomach. He tried to warn Caleb, to tell him he was about to cum, but the words got lost in a strangled and muffled cry as his body tensed, his release hitting him like a tidal wave.
Caleb swallowed around him, his mouth milking Zayne for every last drop. When Zayne finally sagged against the bookshelf, boneless and sated, Caleb pulled away, a satisfied smirk on his face.
"That," Caleb said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "was worth maybe getting banned from the library."
Zayne could only nod in agreement, still trying to catch his breath.
Caleb then pressed a lingering kiss to Zayne's lips, allowing the med student to taste himself on Caleb's tongue as he meticulously refastened Zayne's pants around his hips. He even buckled the belt, though a tad tighter than Zayne would typically wear it. "Come on," Caleb murmured, "I'll buy you lunch."
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fennellwitch · 2 months ago
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Enough / Gale x Tav
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Pairing: Gale x female!Tav (no class/race mentioned)
Warning: NSFW 18+ Angsty romance that becomes angsty smut, fairly vanilla- oral (Tav receiving); penetration; sickening displays of romantic affection
Word Count: 3k
Summary: Gale and Tav are equally filled with self doubt but they’re determined to make each know their worth. Romance, angst, needy shagging
Set somewhere around the end of Act 2 after the romance scene, but under the pretence neither Gale nor Tav have admitted they love each other yet.
Author’s note: This is my first soirée into fanfic writing so if you don’t like it, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. Let me live in bliss for a while longer!! I once swore I’d never write fanfic but here I am, hopelessly in love with that dumb fucking wizard (and at my ripe old age too, embarrassing stuff).
“Unfortunately Gale, it would appear I’ve fallen head over heels for you. Trust me, I’d prefer it if I hadn’t.” Tav joked, trying desperately to maintain her air of nonchalance. It was proving to be nigh on impossible, nothing about how she felt about Gale Dekarios was nonchalant. She was feeling altogether too chalant about the whole ordeal. Her sudden, unexpected dalliance with the wizard was setting her teeth on edge, he so much as looked at her from across camp and she felt like she’d swallowed a nest full of angry bees. Feelings like this only ended one way, she knew from experience, it was too much, too fast. She was too much. Whether it was the orb, the tadpoles or just Gale inevitably growing bored of her, she would find herself heartbroken and alone again, mourning a love lost. Like an idiot.
Gale had disregarded the jovial tone of her voice, instead he looked at her confused, stuck in a bizarre nebulous space he had created for himself somewhere between obnoxiously cocksure, and sickeningly anxious. A duality few could ever truly garner. Tav understood, she found herself in her very own version of uncertainty frequently, especially now so many people relied on her. She was happy for the company, and happy to feel needed but by the Gods it made her anxious.  
“I can be better.” Gale said finally, with an ironically confident nod. “What you’re seeing now is not a fair portrayal of my capabilities. You know I was so good. Incredible. The power I had- well, you wouldn’t even believe it. I am sorry this is the me you got to meet, but I promise I can be that version of me again. The crown will fix it, it’ll fix,” he paused. “Me. I want to be the best version of myself for you. I know I can be, with time.” He was speaking too fast, stumbling over his words like even as he spoke Tav might just disappear into the ether.
Instead, she remained, staring at him with big, glassy eyes pushing down tears that had begun making her sinus’ ache.  
All that self-doubt he was so terrible at hiding; that bubbled so closely at the surface, well here it was on full display and for Tav, it was like looking in a mirror. She took both of his hands in her own, squeezing his fingers gently. All she had ever wanted was to feel good enough, she couldn’t stand the thought that someone she loved...  
Loved?  
Fuck it, yeah loved. She could wake up in the morning an illithid, some tenticled monstrosity with no free will, or end up with a goblin’s arrow through her neck, she could fall off a cliff, or get mauled by an owlbear.
So, fuck it, fuck nonchalance.
She loved him and by the Gods she wouldn’t let him feel like she had, she would never even give him the chance to doubt just how truly and utterly loved he was.  “You are more than enough already.” She said simply. She wanted him to be able to sense her feelings for him, she certainly felt like they were radiating from her bright and obvious but he just looked away. He wouldn’t argue, he didn’t believe she would lie to him, perhaps she did think he was enough but she was duly misinformed. “Gale,” Her hand reached up to his chin, tilting his face toward her so she could meet his eye. “You could wake up tomorrow unable to summon so much as a spark from these fingertips and I would still think you were the most magnificent creature I’d ever laid eyes upon. I don’t need Gale of Waterdeep renowned wizard extraordinaire. I just want Gale Dekarios. My Gale. This sweet, ridiculous man sat right here, who is somehow utterly charming and completely tactless, who talks too much and tells terrible jokes. I could listen to you forever Gale. You have captured me mind, body and soul. I am transfixed by you, you utter, utter fool. How could I want anything more?”  
For once Gale was speechless. He opened his mouth to speak but no sounds came out and Tav didn’t have anything left to say. She was already laid bare.  
Instead of scrambling for more unnecessary words she kissed him, or he kissed her, they were unsure who leant into who, perhaps it was simply the gravity of their need for each other that pulled them together. It was a hard kiss, desperate, full of want, and relief. When Tav pulled back she didn’t go far, Gale sighed deeply against her. “I love you.” He whispered, his breath hot against her face. Her eyes closed as their foreheads touched.  
“I love you too.”  
The next kiss was slow, still needy, but savoured. Neither wanted to pull away, it took lack of oxygen to force them apart.  
Tav found herself inching closer and closer to him, her hands trailed his collarbone and chest. He began casting, but she put a hand over his, stopping him. “No,” She said, “No weave, no illusions, I just want you, Gale.”
His eyes shone with tears, but he swallowed hard and pushed them down. Instead he threw her a playful grin. “Not even mage hand?”  
“Not even mage hand.” Tav replied, before raising her eyebrow in an exaggerated ‘I’m thinking about it face’. “Maybe another night.” She purred, planting a kiss on his cheek. Gale chuckled deep in his chest, and the sound filled Tav with the warmth of a golden, sunny day. She realised in that moment that she would do anything to hear that laugh. She wanted to hear it every day of her life. If she did one good thing with her existence it would be making this wizard smile.  
They lay back, laughing as they got tangled in blankets and bedrolls. “How many could you possibly need?”  Gale laughed.
“I get cold! We can’t all conjure fire.”  
“You think that’s what I’m doing? I’m not... inside a tent?”  He asked with a baffled, incredulous tone.
Tav thought about it for a second before realising what she must have just sounded like. “Fucking hell, I’m degree educated!” She laughed.  
“Remind me to burn that certificate, inside a small, flammable den of course.”  
“Shut up.”  She rolled her eyes, before giggling once more.
They kept laughing as they found one another’s mouths again, peppering each other with soft, playful kisses. His fingers played with the hem of her shirt, stealing quick touches of her skin beneath the black cloth. She took it from him, yanking it over her head. His eyes scanned her form, it wasn’t the first time he had seen her topless but he still took the time to drink her in.
“Wow.” He breathed, seemingly to himself, the smile that spread across Tav’s lips could have made men go into battle.  
Gale bent over her, placing another long, hot kiss on her mouth. She could hear the static coming from his fingertips before she felt it. “Gale.” She warned, her voice low and disapproving.  
“Fine, fine. Just plain old me it is then. You’re a glutton for punishment, you know? You’ve seen what I can show you Tav, that’s just the start.”  
“I’d like to start with you. Gods forbid I want to give my full attention solely to the man I have professed to love.”  
“Say it again.”  
“Love. I love you, Gale.”  
He groaned deep in his throat and in the increasingly dark tent his orb pulsed with purple light.
“I love you.” She said again, she felt his smile against her skin between every kiss that he trailed her jaw and neck, across her collarbones and shoulders- slow and precise.
“Who needs Goddesses?” He murmured against her and maybe she made a noise that perhaps she would have found embarrassing once but not here, not with Gale.
He didn’t need magic for his touch to send chills through her, wherever he touched goosebumps appeared. His fingers ran up her sides lingering as he traced the curve of her breasts and found their way down her front, over her chest bone, her peaked nipples, down her stomach to rest happily back on her hips.
He slunk down, placing long kisses across her body as he did, and yanking at her waistband, bringing her trousers down with him. He undressed her deftly, with the efficiency of a man who knew he may be on borrowed time.
As he parted her thighs, he looked up at her with dark, needy eyes, wide with desire. She had never needed someone more in her life. Her fingers gently combed through his hair. As if she had wanted to appear nonchalant, it was laughable! As if she wasn’t vibrating with want, so utterly and irrevocably desperate for his touch, his tongue, for his sweet words that filled her with warmth, and the scratch of his beard between her thighs that filled her with fire.
She wanted to feel him in the deepest parts of her, wanted to be full of him so intensely she ceased to know where she ended and he began. She looked into those sorrowful brown eyes and wished she could say all of this aloud but a pit in her stomach opened that told her to stop, what if he didn’t feel the same way? She was being too much again, too intense, too needy. Later she would recognise how silly that anxiety was, especially in the position they were in. After everything that had been said that night. Confessions of love on both of their lips. How silly she was.
His chin rested on her thigh, and a smile spread across his lips. “You are so beautiful.” He said simply, and Tav wasn’t sure whether to moan or cry, or both. She didn’t have time to decide as he ran his tongue against her sending a current through her with an intensity she had long thought impossible.
She gasped as he gracefully used his tongue to spread her, running it between her folds to reach her clit. He lapped at it, each little gasp, each stifled moan willing him on, until she was whining his name. He pulled back, teasing her, desperate to see that face again, this time looking down at him with pure ravenous hunger. He couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips, couldn’t help the satisfaction that spread through his chest. He decided in that moment there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do to have this woman say his name like that everyday of his life.
Her fingers still in his hair tightened willing him on, and as he returned to his rightful place he felt them close into a fist pulling deliciously painfully.
He pressed a finger against her, teasing her again and she moaned in want. “Please.” She whimpered. “Gale please.” Even as much as he was enjoying making her wait, he was still only a man, and even his self restraint had its limits. His finger slid into her with ease, and he felt her immediately tighten against him, he groaned against her clit and her whole body shook. She watched in delight as he undid the buttons of his trousers and pulled out his cock pumping it steadily in his hand unable to resist her any longer.
As she watched him in lustful fascination she felt the familiar pressure, the heat, her whole body tensed in anticipation. “Faster.” She breathed and dutifully he did as he was told. His name fell from her lips as she reached the precipice and tumbled over it. He pulled back looking decidedly pleased with himself. In her pleasure addled delirium she yanked him up, stripping the shirt off him and placing a hard, desperate kiss to his mouth, her hands clumsily exploring his bare chest. She pulled him down toward her, his mouth trailing after hers just as desperate.
He fumbled with his trousers, kicking them off with clumsy haste; her hands immediately found his cock. She didn’t have his patience. As she pumped his breath got more and more erratic, his kisses more and more sloppy. “I need you.” He whimpered, his voice devilishly deep.
“I’m yours.” She replied simply, her own voice echoing his needy lust.
Her back arched as he entered her, willing him deeper, she wasn’t used to taking someone so big without resistance or pain. A wave of sadness washed over her that perhaps she had never truly felt desire, but it was quickly shooed away by relief. Relief that here he was, perhaps it was the lust talking but she never wanted this night to end, never wanted to be parted from him again. She wanted to tell him, to tell him what he had come to mean to her this past few weeks, how she never wanted to be without him but all she could muster was a whined “don’t stop” as her fingernails dug into his back.
Gale wanted to take his time, wanted to feel her inch by inch, warm and wet and tight, quivering and pulsing for him but the moment he entered her all thought left his mind. He wanted to stay this way forever, wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go. He wanted to keep her safe and happy, so content, he wanted to wake up with his head on her chest, her fingers playing with his hair. He wanted to make her laugh, wanted to hear about her dreams, to wipe away her tears when she cried, to wash her clothes and make her dinner.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing him in, pulling him deeper, he couldn’t help the moan that escaped from him lips and he buried his face in her hair breathing her in. She clawed at his back and it drew more noise from him, every sound made her clench firmer around him. If she wanted to hear him so she would. Whatever she wanted he would provide. Whatever her desire he would supply.
He slowed as his hand fell to her clit, and her volume rose, he wanted to hear her scream out his name, wanted to feel her climax around his cock, feel it drip down his shaft. His fingers worked fast and her nails sunk deeper into his back, he hissed and she released her grip. “No,” he groaned, “don’t stop.” She bit her lip and her nails dug deep as she felt her pleasure rise again.
He felt her convulse around him, as her muscles spasmed and he grinned keeping his rhythm constant and measured. It wasn’t long until he got his wish, his name flew from her mouth again and again. They would have some awkward complaints about the noise in the morning that was for sure, but for now neither of them cared. Tav wanted the world to hear how he made her feel, and more than that she wanted him to hear it.
Her legs found their way back around his waist and as she rolled through her orgasm she pulled him toward her, taking him fully in one swift, deft movement. She pushed a hand against his chest. “Let me get on top.” She panted and they rolled over, not breaking from each other.
She wanted him to finish, wanted to feel it fill her up, wanted to give him what he had given her, twice over. She got to her toes, and he moaned at the sight watching as she bounced on his cock, fast and deep. His hands rested on her ass giving her balance; his eyes darted between the sight of her sliding up and down his cock, her bouncing tits and the look of pure, unadulterated want on her face. He wouldn’t last much longer. “I’m yours.” She told him. “I’m yours. Heart, soul, body.” That was all he could take, he came hard, this time it was her name that rang through the air. He pulled her down toward him so her chest was flat against his and she buried her face in the nape of his neck. He smelt like patchouli and cedar wood, warm and spicy and Gale. He smelt like Gale. She wished the scent would envelop her.
He held her like that for a long while as they planted tired, lazy kisses over each others’ faces and necks. Eventually their breathing returned to normal, and they let out a shaky, satisfied laugh against one another. Placing a long, hard kiss on his lips, she drew herself off him with a soft gasp.
She didn’t move far, her head simply resting on his chest, her fingers dancing through his chest hair. His arm wrapped around her, and he drew lazy circles on her shoulder with his fingertips. She listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, matching her breath to his.
“When I’m scared Gale and I can’t sleep, which happens more often than not now. I lull myself to slumber thinking of you.” She said, the peaceful post-sex blanket giving her a bravery she didn’t think she possessed. “But I don’t picture you and the weave, or you mid spell in the middle of a fight, or even you fucking me, as impressive as you are in all regards.” She continued, and he chuckled against her. “No, I think about drying up plates as you wash them, of lazy Sundays in bed reading in soft sunlight, of baking you cakes and us picking out lampshades. You make me dream of mundanity, a life with you would be a life well lived.”
Gale kissed her forehead gently. “‘I love you’ doesn’t really seem strong enough anymore.” He said quietly. “You know I’m supposed to be the one who’s good with words and yet you leave me dumbfounded.” He paused, squeezing her tighter. “I hope we get to live that life.”
“I’m sure we will.” Tav said and surprisingly found that for once she believed it.
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blueteller · 2 years ago
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Cale be like: "Let's just buy the Magic Tower" – everyone else: *shocked Pikachu face*
I don't think enough people appreciate what utterly crazy, audacious, outside-the-box thinking Cale displayed back when he decided on that move.
People overlook it, because Cale does a lot of other crazy, audacious things, both before and after the Magic Tower. But in my opinion, this one was one the smartest and craziest.
From a reader's POV, it might not seem that crazy. Cale naturally presents the ruined Magic Tower as a perfect oppurtunity from TBOAH: it's described to contain a ton of treasures, some of which were found by Toonka and the Anti-Magic Faction, and some of which were lost. It only makes sense that he'd want to loot it and take the treasures.
However, that's not all what Cale did, no no no. Cale didn't just break into the Magic Tower and loot stuff. He actually, legally, bought the whole place, including the land it was standing on. And it was a genius move which changed the course of the entire war in the future.
Let's break it all down, shall we?
First of all, he made a deal with Alberu. Cale used the Crown Prince's money to buy the Magic Tower, and he did it nearly without a warning, which might have pissed him off... However, Cale wanted to make the Roan Kingdom stronger, so he gave Alberu the device belonging to the Liege of the Magic Faction, which would allow him to contact all the magical refugees from the Whipper Kingdom. Basically, Cale paid Alberu back in full – because the Roan Kingdom desperately needed magic users to strengthen their military.
Secondly, Cale created an alliance with Toonka, and thus the entire Whipper Kingdom. This alliance let Cale have influence when they later went to the war against the Empire. Without Toonka being on board, Cale wouldn't have been able to manipulate the battles against Adin the way he did. Against all odds, Toonka actually became one of this most useful allies later on.
Thirdly, by involving himself with the Whipper Kingdom, Cale actually saved it in the long run. Through Cale, Whipper was able to enter the alliance with the other countries who stood against the Empire and Arm. For example, the Jungle helped provide food to the Whipper Kindom – which in TBOAH, they had to steal from the Jungle in order to survive, leading to a conflict between the two. Instead of enemies, Toonka and Litana became allies.
Next, thanks to Cale being the one who proposed bringing back the Whipper Kingdom mages for reinforcements as mercenaries, during the war against the Empire, Cale helped out with lessening the hatred against magic among the citizens. Basically, by creating this debt of gratitude, the Whipper Kingdom won't be discriminating as badly against mages in the future. That's a huge deal.
Also, by becoming the owner of the Magic Tower, Cale had power over the documents containing the studies concerning magic resistance. The Whipper Kingdom wouldn't have used the information benevolently on their own, that's for sure; there was still too much hatred towards magic at the time. By limiting their access to the information, Cale actually helped them as well.
And finally, by giving the Anti-Magic Faction money from purchasing the Magic Tower, Cale literally bought time. He actually delayed the main conflict on the continent – because, as I mentioned already, the Whipper Kingdom was going to face financial problems due to food shortage, which would have resulted in them going after the Jungle (and Elisneh would have fanned the flames by controling Litana's people with illusions, too). He gave the Roan Kingdom more time to prepare for the war, and Toonka went after the Empire instead, gathering their attention and pulling it away from Cale's country. What feels natural progression for the readers was actually a huge divergence from what happened in TBOAH.
It might have seemed like a simple move at the time in the novel, based entirely on Cale's scammer's way of thinking and greed for money. But it was so much more than that. It was a very calculated, extremely bold move, which Cale came up entirely on his own.
...You think it was obvious to anyone in that world that you could simply buy a building such as the Magic Tower? That it was even an option? Not a chance!!!
It was essentially the fortress belonging to the true rulers of Whipper Kingdom. It was like a royal castle. Who in their right mind comes up with buying the castle of the rulers of a foreign country, right after a major revolution?? Such places are normally never for sale! The only reason it worked in the first place was because Toonka was so crazy he couldn't care less about it! It would have never worked if the Anti-Magic faction hated the magic users any less than they did!!
What Cale did was utterly ingenious. He doesn't get enough credit for such a ballsy move.
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