#for his own protection (and others as is needed) more so than anything else

[malk1ns]

november 22 vs jets, 4-1 loss

someone was in a mood.

this is omegaverse. it's also not entirely what i set out to write, but i got a little lost in in the setup at the start and then sid got a little less feral-alpha and more i've-been-pining at the end there so...here we are. also not nearly as long of a sex scene as i'd planned but sometimes i don't actually decide what gets written! hope you enjoy it anyway :)

Zhenya doesn’t trust the team’s new dynamic specialist.

He’s an omega—they often are, omegas tend to get funneled into career paths that involve heightened sensitivity to smell and emotions young, just like alphas are encouraged towards sports—but that’s not why Zhenya doesn’t trust him, not at all. 

Kris had laughed at him when he first brought it up, patted his shoulder and said that Zhenya had no reason to be jealous, he was still everyone’s favorite omega no matter how many specialists the team brings in. Zhenya had socked him on the arm hard enough to bruise.

He’s never been that kind of omega. Most omegas he knows aren’t, actually—the stereotype that they’re all fawning after alphas, tripping over themselves for attention and picking fights with other omegas at the drop of a hat, isn’t based in any sort of reality that Zhenya’s experienced. He’s been surrounded by ‘traditional’ omegas his whole life, been treated by them and trained by them and gone to them for help regulating his cycle, and they’ve all been fiercely protective of him, gone out of their way to make sure that he’s taken care of and safe.

So, no, it’s not that Zhenya distrusts this guy because he’s an omega. Zhenya doesn’t trust him because he’s a fan.

The Penguins are usually pretty good at weeding out people who are going to be weird about working with the players from their employee pool. Fans are inevitable, especially with the emphasis the team puts on hiring local, but there’s a difference between being a fan and a fan. 

Zhenya’s not sure how this one got through. And to be fair, the guy hasn’t done anything egregious—he’s not touchy, he’s not flirting, nobody’s said anything about feeling uncomfortable with him—but Zhenya can see the stars in his eyes when he looks at Sid, and when Zhenya had his own check-in, the kid barely even pushed back on Zhenya’s treatment plan, just accepted when Zhenya said he was fine and didn’t need any adjustments made.

Zhneya reported the official severance of his mate-bond over the summer. Their last specialist would have subjected him to hours of questions and testing to verify that he truly didn’t need his hormone-balancers changed, but this kid had taken him at his word so quickly that Zhenya was uneasy. If Sid’s checkup went any differently, Zhenya will eat his hat.

Even with that type of deference, though, Zhenya would expect him to have noticed that Sid’s heading towards early rut.

Omegas are always the first to notice when alphas enter pre-rut. It’s less a difference in smell than it is a difference in intensity, in presence. Sid already looms large enough in Zhenya’s subconscious, but when he’s nearing rut it becomes almost unbearable, especially if he doesn’t notice in time to take the pills that suppress the worst of it.

Zhenya can’t believe nobody else has noticed. Then again, he’s been hyper-sensitive to Sid for the last year and a half, ever since he and Anna first separated.

An omega fixating on an alpha like that is something a competent dynamics specialist should have been able to suss out, demand information on, and put together a treatment plan to rectify. This new guy hasn’t noticed a thing, and it’s embarrassing enough that Zhenya certainly isn’t going to bring it up on his own.

Sid’s also normally more on top of his cycle, but he’s stressed this season, fielding calls left and right from guys he hasn’t spoken to in years trying to get info on if he’s planning on jumping ship and being the public face of a team that’s underperforming so drastically it’s a national story every night, so Zhenya isn’t all that surprised.

Sully gives them the day after the Lightning game off, and only half the guys get scheduled for on-ice work the day before the Jets come to town. By the time the special teams units are done with extra video review, Zhenya’s practically dizzy with Sid’s pheromones, and even Kris is starting to wrinkle his nose and cast sidelong looks of concern Sid’s way.

Sid books it for the gym before anyone can corner him, though, which means Zhenya has no choice but to track down the specialist with his concerns.

Kris comes with as back-up, like he always does. One too many instances of Zhenya slinking out of offices with his tail between his legs and rage written on his face after being written off for being overly-emotional their rookie year has made it a habit for them; Zhenya takes point on laying out any problems they have, but Kris is there to lend support and legitimacy.

The specialist—Ben, his nametag says—listens as Zhenya stumbles through what he’s noticing, face getting paler and paler as Zhenya makes it perfectly, unavoidably clear how badly he’s dropped the ball.

“I’ll have to run his bloodwork, but…” Ben hesitates, but Zhenya’s glare gets him babbling. “It’s only, I don’t think—the service doesn’t have any omegas available this week. They send the list every Monday, you know, which of their contractors are around for breakthroughs, but we got a note Sunday night that there weren’t going to be any omegas until next week—some scheduling problem, I don’t know, but there’s nobody they can send for Sid.” He looks between Zhenya and Kris in desperation. “Are you sure? I mean, you’re not just thinking because you—”

Kris growls under his breath, and Ben shuts his mouth. “G knows Sid better than anyone,” Kris says, crossing his arms and managing to loom even from where he’s leaning against the wall across the room. “If he says Sid’s going into rut, he’s going into rut. Not his job to tell people, but we have each other’s backs.”

Zhenya will be surprised if Ben is still employed with the team when 2025 starts.

Ben’s fretting over his computer when Kris and Zhenya leave, muttering to himself as he types out different search queries, trying to find an emergency agency that has a hope of getting approved by the team on such short notice.

He won’t. They only go through one service provider for a reason.

“We’re fucked,” Kris mutters. “That kid doesn’t know anything, Sid’s gonna end up missing a whole week. He’s going to be furious.”

Zhenya doesn’t reply. He has a really, really bad idea.

—

It wouldn’t be the first time Zhenya helped Sid through rut. Zhenya’s own heat is as regular as clockwork and meticulously controlled, has been since he turned 14 and presented for the first time, but Sid spent his teenage years and first few seasons in the league going from medication to medication until his cycle stabilized on its own. There had been a few times when there was no one else available, and they were young and dumb and, as those times proved, painfully compatible.

He’s done it before. No reason he can’t do it again. He was always able to get Sid’s rut to break overnight; if Sid can make it through the Jets game without losing it completely, they might not even miss the second half of this week’s back-to-back.

Convincing Sid will be the hardest part, Zhenya thinks as he goes through his pre-game routine. Sid’s always been respectful to the point of insult about Zhenya’s status as an omega, shutting down locker room talk and off-color jokes firmly and skirting the reality of Zhenya’s heats with a level of avoidance that would make Zhenya think he were a virgin if it weren’t for Zhenya’s hands-on experience. Sid had shut down their hookups Zhenya’s second year so politely that Zhenya hadn’t even realized what was happening at first, but when he’d picked through the conversation later he’d realized that Sid had been concerned he was taking advantage of Zhenya.

He hadn’t been. Zhenya can take care of himself. He thought about getting offended by the implication, about challenging Sid on it and forcing the issue, but then he got back together with Oksana, and after that fizzled out for the final time he met Anna, and it just never felt worth putting a wedge in their friendship just to prove a point.

Zhenya’s prepared to wedge it wide open now. When Sid picks a fight with some Winnipeg forward three minutes into the third, though, he’s shamefully relieved that it probably won’t take much arguing to get Sid to come home with him. Sid’s usually so logical that any arguments they have end with Zhenya losing before they even truly get going.

Zhenya shifts on the bench. They’re losing again, and Sid’s angry and half out of his mind with rut-haze, but seeing him throw punches and snarl his dominance in someone else’s face will never not be hot, no matter the circumstances.

Kris elbows him hard enough to feel it through his pads. “You’re going to do something stupid, huh,” he hisses, and Zhenya nods, watching as Sid barks at the ref on his way to the box. No point pretending, Sid’s going to zero in on him the second he realizes Zhenya’s interested after the game. “Fuck,” Kris sighs, elbowing Zhenya again. “I’ll try to cover for you. Get him out of here as soon as you can, he’s going to cause a riot with the crowd if he hangs around for too long.”

—

Sid’s the first one down the tunnel after the final horn goes off. Zhenya had kept his distance at the end of the game, not wanting to push Sid even further into rut, but even with space between them he could tell that Sid was quickly losing coherency, his big eyes all pupil and his nostrils flaring, snapping at Ricky and Rusty whenever either of them try to talk through a play with him. He spent the last few minutes of the game shoving off the training staff who tried to talk to him, and it took Kris frantically whispering to Sully to get everyone to back off.

Zhenya barely makes it through his shower before Sid gets a whiff of his scent. Kris runs interference, blocking the rest of the team from the change room as Zhenya somehow manages to dress them both while fending off Sid’s advances and keeping his own instinctual fawn response in check.

He’d vaguely thought about having someone from the car service drive them home, but the idea of sharing space with anyone other than Sid is intolerable, so he white-knuckles the drive home, Sid’s scent rising in the close air of his car. It’s suffocating.

“How did you know?” Sid asks suddenly as they turn into Zhenya’s neighborhood. He sounds perfectly lucid, like they’re just having a casual everyday conversation and not like Zhenya’s driving them home so he can sit on Sid’s dick for the next six hours. “I barely even noticed, and you…how?”

Zhenya glances to his left and immediately regrets it, because Sid’s got one hand down his own pants and is stroking himself off. His other hand is braced against the dashboard, almost like he’s stopping himself from reaching for Zhenya.

Shaking his head to clear the fog, Zhenya focuses back on the road. Just a few more turns and they’re home. “Since last year I’m notice you more,” he says plainly. “You know, when Anna and I break up, like, you’re smell so much more to me than before.”

Sid groans in response, and Zhenya skids up his driveway so fast he scatters gravel everywhere when he brakes.

“I never stopped noticing you,” Sid gasps in his ear when they finally make it to Zhenya’s bedroom and Sid’s got him pinned down to the mattress, frantically ripping at his clothes to get them skin-on-skin. “I shouldn’t have told you we had to stop, you were mine and—fuck, god, you should have been mine this whole time.”

“Shh,” Zhenya soothes, arching his back to rub along Sid’s body and tilting his head to one side to expose his neck. He gets to watch in real-time the way Sid fixates on his scent gland, the way his pupils dilate even more and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

Zhenya was happy in his relationships. Perfectly satisfied, genuinely in love. He doesn’t regret them. But there had been a part of him that never let go of Sid.

It’s all instinct the way he spreads his legs, purring enticements as Sid clumsily lines up and moaning as Sid sinks into him too fast, the stretch painful and so good. Sid was always a little careless during his ruts, always a little more selfish than he’d probably care to admit to being with his lovers, and Zhenya missed the rough treatment, missed the way Sid took what he wanted.

He’s going to be sore tomorrow. He won’t skate well, won’t score again, and he’ll have to listen to Sully scold him for yet another disappointing performance in front of their home crowd.

But Sid’s teeth are scraping over his scent gland, and Sid’s knot is swelling inside him, and Zhenya can’t bring himself to care about anything else.

[trouticecream]

Gregory's Notable Tech: Part 1 of 2

This was going to be all one post, but it’s getting pretty long so this is going to be in two parts.  First part acts as a sort of primer to a lot of things that Gregory has and then focuses on his projectile-based weaponry which is kept in a pocket dimension–part of a device which otherwise functions as a computer–which presents itself as a small diamond-shaped grey outline on the inside of his right wrist.  Other main (though still not an exhaustive list because he has A LOT of stuff) tech will be covered in a second post.

As a preface to this, it is worth noting that–as is now updated with a tiny note on the main info page–while the psionic abilities listed are ones that he has the power to utilize, he primarily utilizes the basics due to one pretty significant consequence of reassembling in a regressed form:  a decrease in the ‘maturity’ of his powers.

As essentially being sentient energy encoded with data and stuffed into shells, the nature of the energy changes with the maturity levels + phase (child or adult, there is no teenage phase) of the Psion.  The more mature + older a Psion is, the more ‘mature’ their powers are.  And when I refer to the ‘maturity’ level of psionic powers, I don’t only refer to how specialized they are, but how controlled and orderly they are in nature.  By design, the psionic powers of Psions in the child phase are wild and chaotic and altogether more difficult to control.  The more power a Psion has in the child phase, the harder it becomes to control altogether and so, because Gregory is in the child phase as a direct consequence of his final actions in limbo-space, yet has the incredible power of his adult self (Mother 1) in lieu of his full Giygas strength… his powers are incredibly difficult to control despite having the understanding and knowledge of how to do so.  Only particular basics (levitation + flight, teleportation, telekinesis, telepathy, low to mid healing) are reliably safe to utilize at this juncture –anything else is a risk that he would rather mitigate so as to avoid inadvertently harming others and so, to make up for this particular consequence of said actions in limbo-space, he has a variety of various technologies (& an army of fixed + extremely upgraded robots) to fill in the resultant gaps and accomplish tasks that might otherwise be better served this way.

Before I delve a bit more into what these technologies are specifically… I will go into a slight aside about a common feature among everything that he has:  immunity to being handled or altered in any way by PSI or similar powers; and with respect to the weapons subset of his technologies? the mode of attack also possesses immunity to being handled, altered, or stopped for that matter… in any way by PSI or similar powers.

The reason why lies in the remains of a specific Ancient Ones (the ancient precursors to modern-day Psions) series of robots.  These robots, referred to as the ‘Stone Guardian’ series, were gargantuan in size (as large as mountains) and designed to take care of the planet and all its life-forms, shielding them from harm from beyond the stars if the need were to arise accordingly.  In accordance with these given purposes, and thus as part of their design, Stone Guardian series robots were made out of a kind of rocky material with the unusual ability to completely block the transmission of PSI.  As a result, Stone Guardian series robots were completely immune to PSI or similarly-formed manipulations.  Despite their great strength and endurance however, all but one (whom has gone deep into space, parts utterly unknown as of the present time) were wiped out in a cataclysmic clash (and its subsequently generated time-space shockwaves) between an Ancient One with incredible powers tied with time-space, fate, and probability and the planetary AI which had once aided in maintaining the overarching balance and health of the planet while also offering protection from external forces.

From this, much of these robots were broken into chunks of varying sizes (mostly tiny) and scattered across the entire universe, open to being taken and utilized by anyone that comes across them and sees their value.  As such, during one of Gregory’s earliest excursions into space following reassembly from his previously fragmented state, he wound up fortunate to encounter a huge chunk of stone guardian remains and upon taking it away–back to his base on Earth, within Mt. Itoi–and studying it, was able to thoroughly integrate it into the structure of the things that he invents and create various projectiles that could be fired from weapons accordingly.  In other words, anything that he makes has an anti-PSI philosophy to not only give greater resistance and strength, but to be more effective protection against PSI-users (i.e to work against them, even with shielding up, and to avoid being remotely damaged by them a la PSI), especially when it comes to creatures that are extremely strong and rely as heavily on it as the Psion species.

And so, any inventions of his should be assumed to be impervious to PSI-based (or similar) attempts to destroy them or remove them from his possession; this can only happen through literal brute force, be it destruction or taking his weapons away from him.  With all that being said, here is a small-ish (though not exhaustive) list of some technologies that Gregory keeps on his person at all times:

Primary Handgun:  this refers to a gun which he creates here and as stated in the linked post, is powered and reinforced by a condensed and tangible manifestation of prayer-directed cosmic energy (which itself is directly reflective of his extreme impact in the greater ‘story’ of the cosmos).  The structure which houses this particular power source is shaped like a revolver type of handgun, that is pale silver in color (with a subtle otherworldly sheen to it–one which appears to reflect an ethereal blue under certain lighting–due to that which powers it) and is made out of an amalgamation of various metallic-type materials and ground up purified Stone Guardian material bonded to said materials to keep the structure strong, durable, and immune to being tampered with psionically.

Due to its resultant cosmic nature, the primary handgun possesses the following characteristics, most of which are mentioned in the previously linked post: the bullets that the gun fires are heavily tied into Gregory’s exact wish and thus, come out looking like little comets (dark blue center illuminated by an ethereal blue tail that trails behind like fire or rather, bright blue streaks if one can’t follow the extreme speed that they come out at) that cannot be blocked or stopped by PSI or related energies/powers*; the primary handgun cannot be utilized by anyone other than Gregory… –like it can be taken away from him but it will just be a useless paperweight only really good for smacking someone in the hands of anyone else; the primary handgun will never truly run out of bullets and can always conjure more into existence accordingly to fire off as is needed, otherwise it is effectively ‘empty’ in a sense; while the primary handgun has a trigger pull by design, it’s purely aesthetic and Gregory doesn’t actually need to pull it in order to fire out bullets… –rather, because its very nature ties to him so heavily, he only really needs to will it to fire or do anything else really; the bullets mainly aim to cause varying levels of damage depending on what 'mode’ Gregory sets them to and can change firing pattern from simple to more complex; the gun can change format to accommodate different forms of combat and distances involved in its utilization; and it’s a weapon that changes in accordance with its user’s personal growth and emotional state and so, sometimes unexpected things can happen (or fail to happen) whenever he fires it.

*The only way to stop the primary handgun’s bullets, if not via Gregory himself in some way, is to be stronger than his Giygas form and have a higher level of cosmic impact than him.

Backup Handgun:  designed in the exact same way as the primary handgun from structure to visual design (but just a pale silver here without any special sheen to it), the backup handgun exists as a weapon that Gregory can utilize if he is ever unable to utilize the primary handgun himself (be it by his own state or detected intentions or it physically being taken away from him).  Accordingly it shares the quality of firing bullets that do well against PSI, but with the ability to alternate between PSI-immune bullets (made from Stone Guardian series robot remains and consequently no larger than a grain of rice in size due to incredibly limited supply) which appear as pale green crystalline ovoid projectiles that glitter just a little and PSI-resistant bullets (made from a synthetically-produced analogue to the material of PSI-immune bullets and appear similar in shape, color, and sheen to PSI-immune bullets but have completely smooth surfacing) in varying sizes and only capable of being stopped by very very very strong PSI –it cuts through any weaker PSI.

Much like the primary handgun, the backup handgun is modular in that it can change physical format to suit the needs of combat or non-combat situations as the given situation evolves and changes and it also has various power modes and firing patterns, but the trigger needs to be physically pulled and the number of bullets are limited to what is stored in the chamber which itself is a kind of pocket dimension embedded into the handgun by Gregory himself.  Due to the nature of this particular storage chamber–it being a pocket dimension–though Gregory primarily stores pre-made projectiles in it, it can also take in and safely shoot out other objects provided that said objects remain intact against the often extreme speed and power of the shots.

Lastly, it is worth noting that after a bit of time, the bullets dissipate due to a built-in security feature aimed at decreasing the risk that the bullets fall into any hands other than his, should he be unable to retrieve the bullets himself afterwards.  Moreover, due to their anti-PSI nature, passing through an opponent can block or scramble the opponent’s PSI for a bit while embedding into said opponent’s body extends the time by however long it takes to remove the bullet before it otherwise just dissipates on its own.

Laser Gun:  there are various designs of these because Gregory has made so many of them with various features, strengths, and firing modes–albeit not out of need, but just because he enjoys building and inventing overall–from single continuous beams to bullet-like laser ‘pellets, albeit often at strengths far higher than ‘market-grade’ laser guns on the intergalactic market’; akin to condensed starpower more so than anything else, like PK Starstorm but multiplied several times over.  As such, if he ever likes anyone enough and the person shows a sufficient degree of intrigue in weaponry like this, he might just gift the person with a laser gun –as friends because only a true friend would give their friend a dangerous weapon right?

Blackhole Canon:  this weapon is shaped like a sleek tube (thin at the top and increasing in width to a wide base) that is held atop a seemingly blank yet smooth cube-shaped structure, both of which can warp in size as is needed and are black in colour with a dangerous sort of glint when light catches on the overarching structure the right way.  As the title implies, this particular weapon fires an incredibly powerful beam with the force and intensity of a blackhole, moderately warping the fabric of time-space–and in a way that lingers for a bit after the beam has been fired before reverting back to normal–around it as it sails through the air towards its intended target.  There is very little reason to ever use such a thing, but sometimes it is necessary for especially difficult-to-destroy things under desperate circumstances with no other immediate recourse, usually against inanimate objects as opposed to actual people.  If utilized too many times in the exact same space, time-space can become more permanently unwound and torn asunder, requiring special attention and tools to fix before it can become normal again.

With this, that concludes part 1! tldr; this dude has way too many guns that can't be dealt with using PSI, but hey if you can take his guns away from him then you've basically won... in a situation where he wouldn't have other bits of tech. But, he does --so those will be covered in the next post. If anyone has made it this far, thank-you for reading and apologies for the slightly messing formatting.

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

[navybrat817]

Knock You Down a Peg or Two

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.

You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn’t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.

He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.

“Give me his name.”

“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”

“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”

You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.

He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.

Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.

He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”

The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”

Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”

The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”

Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.

There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”

The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.

“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”

“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”

Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.

The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”

“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”

The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”

Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”

His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”

“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”

The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.

“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”

Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”

The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.

“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”

“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”

“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”

The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,” you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.

“Love you.”

His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”

He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.

Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[twisted-broth]

Scarlet End

Mr Scarletta x Reader

(Anything in bold is in the other world language)

How did you end up here? In those apartments? In this other world? Could it really all have been fate?

No. It was all his fault. Ever since you spilt blood on his property, you were in the palm of his hand. He toyed with your reality like it was all just a game to him. You supposed that likely wasn't far from the truth.

How many days had you been running? Every corner you turned brought you face to face with a new monster, difficult to distinguish between friend or foe. Although you suppose you probably didn't look much better at this point. Blood slipped through the cracks of your raincoat, staining the white dress underneath as you fell to your knees. You were so tired. Even if you could keep running, where would you go? All you could see for miles was an ocean of red. And your hunter didn't suffer the same exhaustion you did.

Shade falls over you. Although now that you think about it, was there ever a light source to begin with? Either way, you don't have to raise your head to know that a red umbrella was covering you. Not to mention the telltale static that always managed to make your teeth throb.

He says something incomprehensible.

No, you know this one. It's the same thing he asks for every time he sees you.

"Give name?"

You finally raise your head to look at him. His red hair covered most of his face, but you could still catch a glimpse of his haunting eyes staring at you, unblinking.

You clumsily utter out what you think is the equivalent of "Why?"

"Me like you. You give name, me ??? you."

What was that word again? It was one Mr Crawling used often. Something like... protect.

"Protect you."

Could he really protect you? Judging by the reactions of everyone else here, you were under the impression that he was the one you needed protection from. The voice on the telephone seemed adamant that you not tell anyone your name. But could you really trust that voice? They hadn't led you astray yet.

They also said you would have to make a choice.

All things considered, this is Mr Scarletta's world. Either you refuse and keep running for the rest of your life, or you join Scarletta in his reign of terror. Your crowbar digs into your shoulder, reminding you of your past. When you stop to think about it, you're not so different from Scarletta. Maybe you're even worse.

"Name... Y/n."

His eerie smile grew more than you thought was possible.

"Y/n." He repeats.

His hand is cold and rubbery, not unlike a corpse, as he takes your own. The fact that he was incorporeal when you swung your crowbar at him a few minutes ago nags at the bag of your mind. Your brow creases in annoyance, but if Scarletta notices he doesn't say anything. It really was true that this world was stacked against you.

Scarletta rises to his full height, pulling you up with him. It takes a great deal of effort to force your aching muscles to stretch once more, and your knees nearly buckle again. Amidst your struggle to right yourself, he hands you his umbrella, much to your confusion. Before you can ask why, he scoops you into his arms bridal style. You supposed this was his way of showing that he cared.

Under the cover of the red umbrella, you feel isolated from the rest of the world. Even if that world was only a wasteland of red for right now. Fear grips your throat as you meet his awful eyes. They were even worse up close. Even now, having gotten what he wanted, his expression seemed the same as always. Being so close, the static was almost deafening as it continued to assault your ears. Perhaps these were all traits that you would grow used to in time.

"Let's go."

[secretsandwriting]

heyyyy ryyyyy <333

since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?

obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this

hope you have a great day bb

Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.

Earned Position

5.3k words

You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that. 

Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama. 

When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you. 

It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.

You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.

While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were. 

Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death. 

Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow. 

The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone. 

Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed. 

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders. 

“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back. 

The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.

Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger. 

When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections. 

Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there. 

6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him. 

“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.

“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.

“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.

“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating. 

“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.” 

A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.

Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would. 

It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself. 

Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once. 

So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.

“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”

“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited. 

“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting. 

“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!” 

“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”

“Maybe..”

“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”

So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores. 

Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving. 

Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.

Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird. 

One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was. 

When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.

When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind. 

When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning. 

So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.

“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.

Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it. 

When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped. 

You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.

While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last. 

“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”

Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe. 

The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you. 

Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to. 

So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough. 

When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence. 

Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.

When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.

Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear. 

“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”

That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that. 

Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.

She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky. 

What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you. 

When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.” 

Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”

And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were. 

Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.

So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it. 

War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.

“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable. 

“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.

Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.

Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.

Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.

Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left. 

Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.

Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.

Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had. 

He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.

Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.

He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.

Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother. 

He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too. 

Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her. 

He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size. 

Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much. 

“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”

Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.

[sunderwight]

AU where there's no system (or a decidedly less restrictive one) and Shen Yuan transmigrates into an OC rogue cultivator before the start of the novel, and decides he's gonna steal the protagonist before Luo Binghe even gets to Cang Qiong.

The logic is sound -- he'll keep Luo Binghe from experiencing neglect and abuse at Shen Qingqiu's hands, raise him away from the pressure of the sects and the likelihood that anyone else might find out about his heritage and try to harm him over it, keep him fully away from the Immortal Alliance Conference, and then Luo Binghe's course will change trajectory because he'll have no reason to want revenge against the world and no access to Xin Mo. Shen Yuan will be able to spare Luo Binghe some suffering and possibly survive in a world less subject to the harrowing whims of a half-mad tyrannical overlord. Win-win!

However, the tricky bit is that he's not sure exactly how far ahead of the novel he is, and also Airplane didn't specify where Luo Binghe grew up. This means that Luo Binghe could be any age younger than twelve and in any number of places along or near to the Luo river.

Shen Yuan decides he's going to approach this by pretending he is looking for the long-lost son of his sister, traveling through the likeliest areas, asking after abandoned children who might fit the protagonist's description. It's a long shot, he knows, and he's mostly relying on the existence of Narrative Destiny. But eventually he is directed by several people towards a particular city, which is not as close to the river as he'd have expected Luo Binghe to grow up, but then again he only knows that was where baby Binghe was found, not where the washerwoman who took him in ultimately lived.

It becomes clear to him, though, that he's been sent to the wrong target. But also why he's been sent astray is apparent in nearly the same breath, because among the slave children living in this area is a little boy who could be his much younger clone.

Seriously, this kid looks just like him! Or, well, close enough. He looks a lot like Shen Yuan's actual nieces and nephews from his past life. It's uncanny.

Also, because of his search, the slave kids get wind of what he's looking for (his long-lost nephew) pretty quick. The boy with the obvious resemblance to him greets Shen Yuan's own assessment with wary cynicism, but he's just a little boy. So it's not difficult to notice the way he's also practically vibrating with hopefulness, half-hiding behind a protective older kid and looking at Shen Yuan with big dark eyes like he expects to be rescued or destroyed with whatever he has to say next.

Shen Yuan has a big problem now. He just knows that if he says something like "actually no this boy is too old to be my nephew" or whatever other excuse, no one will believe him, and also this poor kid is going to be permanently scarred by it. He's going to think Shen Yuan is lying just so that he can reject him. On top of that, he's not in a good situation here. None of these children are even remotely well cared-for.

Shen Yuan's rogue cultivator self isn't rich on the level of being like a wealthy sect leader or anything, but he's made some money since transmigrating by doing random cultivator jobs and quests along the way here. He uses it all to purchase two little slave boys (Do Not Separate), then takes another job and uses that coin to acquire a somewhat rundown manor which used to belong to the local gentry. The Qiu family (rings some bells but that's not exactly an uncommon name) kept it up for a while in case a branch family sprung up in need of a residence, but they've been in decline and the place is downright decrepit, so they had been looking to sell it instead. It's too big for a wandering bachelor like SY to ever need on his own account, but that's sort of the idea. He makes more money taking on cultivator work, at first taking his boys along with him for lack of any alternative. Nerve-wrackingly dangerous! Eventually he hires workers to start restoring the manor, particularly setting up a yard to be a school area, and then starts taking on any freelance jobs he can get in order to steadily buy out the contracts on all the other kids. He gets it nice enough to house and care for as many orphans as he can acquire.

Not because he's a big old softie though!

His story of looking for his nephew is a bust now, since he's apparently "found" the kid. So he's got to change tactics! If he can't find baby Binghe and the washerwoman, the next best approach is to create an opportunity for them to come to him. So once he's got his new household established, he starts offering free lessons to all the local kids. Not just the ones he's taken in, but also any who come by and want to learn some things. It's a tempting setup for anyone who wants their child to get education but can't afford a tutor, and Luo Binghe's mother had been entirely the sort of person who would have packed up and left her situation if there had been an opportunity for it.

On that note, SY also starts hiring single mothers to help look after his new gaggle of children and do the work he doesn't know how to do in these times, like keeping house, laundry, cooking, actually raising kids, etc.

His "little school" is not universally popular. A few groups try and ruin him, because the poverty in the region provides a basis of business for them. The ringleaders of the human traffickers in the area don't want their trade to dry up, even if it means selling all of their merchandise for this round, so when they find out that their underlings let Shen Yuan buy off all the kids they try and intimidate him into returning them (it doesn't go well for them). The Qiu family also isn't thrilled after it becomes clear what he's doing, and get him investigated by the local authorities (read: use their bribed officials and local goons to try and interfere.)

When that doesn't work either the sects get involved, because the Qiu go crying to Huan Hua Palace that Shen Yuan is sketchy and is trying to establish his own sect. So Shen Yuan talks his way around the matter, and frankly the Qiu are small fish even if they're the biggest ones in the local pond, so HHP doesn't care to pursue things much further. (Read: SY could mop the floor with the disciples they sent to investigate him, and it's not worth it to piss off someone this mysterious and powerful just to bully some impoverished children.)

Shen Yuan is appalled by all this bullshit though. Trust the world of PIDW to make it so hard just for a guy to teach some poor kids how to read and do math!

It makes him dig in his heels about it, because he is at heart a stubborn bastard. The fires that once fueled a thousand angry screeds on zhongdian literature site is now aimed at the local magistrate. One of the women he's hired on has some dirt on the Qiu family, which leads SY to dig up some more until he eventually has enough to turn the tables on them. Local officials won't investigate because they've all been bought, but that in and of itself is of some interest to their superiors closer to the palace, and so SY arranges an investigation of his own that goes way further than he thought? Turns out there are some ugly skeletons in the Qiu closets, and the imperial investigator comes down on them hard.

Well, he can't say they didn't have it coming? Though he does feel bad for the children in the family, especially the oldest son, who gets hauled off to jail along with his father. At least the girl is sent to live with relatives. Maybe he should have done more to shield the minors in the situation...?

His kids tell him not to worry about it, though, that apparently young master Qiu was known to run people down in the streets and beat his servants and do other cartoonishly awful things. SY's not sure how much of it is true and how much of it is his little flock of fluffy sheep trying to ease his conscience, though they do all seem to take a lot of vindictive delight in the whole affair. Especially Nephew, who clings to his sleeves and loudly declares that the investigator should have publicly flogged the discredited nobles so that everyone could go watch, and then begs him for sweets as if that wasn't a creepy thing to hear come out of an eight-year-old's mouth. SY just sighs and tells him he can have something good when he finishes his calligraphy practice.

Of course, it's not exactly easy running what is basically an orphanage-slash-school (and maybe a budding sect...?), especially when pretty much all of the kids have been traumatized and faced stuff like rampant dehumanization, food insecurity, abuse, and neglect. Hiring single mothers soon becomes not only a plan to try and lure in Luo Binghe's mom, but an absolute godsend of an idea because SY has no clue WHAT he would do on his own about the discipline issues or emotional breakdowns or acting out that some of the kids get up to once it registers that they're in a safe enough place to unpack their baggage.

Apart from Nephew, SY's favorite kid is the one who came with him, the oldest of the flock of former slave children. He's the big brother of the group, the one who tries his best to look after the others and to not make any trouble himself. But even poor Little Yue is still just a kid who has been through too much, and he also eventually starts having some meltdowns and struggles with processing everything that has happened to him as a vulnerable child in an unkind world.

SY really didn't mean to start a trauma center for mistreated children!

Though, that's still not necessarily a bad thing for Luo Binghe to one day come across, provided he ever actually shows up...

Eventually, Shen Yuan does figure out that he must be ahead even of Luo Binghe's birth, though he still doesn't put together that he's interfered in the scum villain's backstory. Probably something even more amusingly obscure, like the creation year of some random artifact Luo Binghe used in some wife plot or other, tips him off and he mentally throws his hands up in the air. He's got to wait DECADES? Maybe he ought to try and find Luo Binghe's biological parents and just follow them around at this point!

Not that he can, now, though, because he has to make sure no negative IQ villains (who will probably just be cannon fodder for a subplot one day) decide to send goons to literally burn down his orphanage. Also if he's gone for too long his kids get upset. Probably because no one else is as weak to their puppy dog eyes and pleas for treats and toys as he is.

At least it gives him time to shore up his position, and train Nephew and Little Yue more extensively in cultivation. Despite his initial assurances to HHP that he was but a humble orphan wrangler who was only incidentally a cultivator, Shen Yuan does also teach the other kids some basic cultivation exercises. There are a few reasons for that.

One is just the principle of the thing. No, these kids don't all have the potential to become great immortals or anything, but they can still learn some of it and it's good for their health if they do. The only trouble is if they try and push too hard or attempt things beyond their range, and that's a risk with everyone who cultivates. Or even just exercises!

Another reason is that it helps stave off the jealousy that some of the kids have towards those with more cultivation potential. Teaching a lot of the basics all around makes it into just another topic at school. Some kids might not be as good at it as others, but those kids might also be better at math, or memorization, or board games, and while cultivation can open more doors to people as adults, for the children this is generally enough to satisfy their sense of fairness. Or at least reduce outbursts and fights.

Finally, the impression that any of SY's kids might be a cultivator also makes wicked people more reluctant to try and abduct or interfere with them. Cultivators are revered and nearly mythological figures in the public consciousness. It isn't difficult to see why, if even a rogue cultivator NPC like SY* can mop the floor with most random muggers (*Shen Yuan is not a normal rogue cultivator). Not many people want to risk bringing SY's ire down on them, but of those who might chance it if he wasn't around to immediately react, even fewer want to risk that the kids themselves could kick their asses.

Not knowing that only two of the orphans probably could in fact mop the floor with them helps keep all the rest safer, and is more believable when all of them can conduct themselves enough like disciples to fool anyone who doesn't know what to really look for.

Developments that surprise Shen Yuan but wouldn't surprise anyone else who is paying attention:

People start leaving unwanted babies and younger children on his doorstep. Not all the time, but more than once has he had to frantically find wet nurses and worry that he's changed things enough that some fishermen might just randomly drop the protagonist outside his gate, and he wouldn't even know because Binghe would be a literal infant??

Nephew (SJ) and Little Yue (Yue Qi -- only Shen Yuan calls him "Little", especially when he gets taller than SY by the time he's sixteen) are prodigies who get really good at cultivation, really fast, and between that and Shen Yuan's OP skills they completely warp Shen Yuan's ideas for what normal cultivation potential looks like. This would probably cause more problems if he wasn't teaching all the kids how to cultivate anyway, but means his students actually do kinda run the usual range of skills for a small sect.

SJ and YQ swiftly reach the point where they need more advanced equipment than just SY's teaching can provide, if they're going to keep building their skills. Gaining access to certain tools, aids, and materials (like spiritual swords) is a real hurdle though, and usually is for rogue cultivators (one of the major disadvantages of no sect affiliation.) Shen Yuan is hesitant to use stuff from the plot, since it's For Binghe, but he eventually caves and starts going after some things that he doesn't think the future protagonist will miss much. He also ends up buying stuff from HHP, since they're willing to sell things like spiritual tools and weapons if the price is right, whereas most other sects like Cang Qiong reserve them for members only.

They get an invitation to the Immortal Alliance Conference. Not the one where the Abyss opens up, obviously, the one where (originally) Shen Jiu reunited with Yue Qi and killed Wu Yanzi. Shen Yuan debates on going but the boys really want to, and things have calmed down enough that no one's trying to burn down the school whenever he leaves these days, so eventually he figures it'll be interesting to see some of the Cang Qiong characters and should be safe enough if he keeps his disciples close.

They don't run into young Yue Qingyuan or Shen Qingqiu on the trip, but Wu Yanzi does show up and get killed, and SY only hears about it and assumes they just missed all that action. (WYZ just got caught by some senior cultivators who recognized him and killed him to avenge some disciples he murdered.) Nephew and Little Yue do meet young Liu Qingge, Shang Qinghua, Mu Qingfang, and Su Xiyan though! Which gives Shen Yuan the opportunity to tell them all (mostly Su Xiyan) that if they're ever in trouble near his school, they can come to him for help. Hint hint.

This open invitation ends up being accepted broadly by a lot of traveling cultivators after the conference, who from then on treat Shen Yuan's school like a free motel whenever they're passing through. Plenty aren't even people SY met, but it seems his statement was taken as a general one to fellow righteous cultivators all around! Luckily, this has some advantages. Shen Yuan has no qualms running off anyone who tries to take unfair advantage of him or especially his kids or staff, and no shame in conscripting anyone who is decent enough to help teach his students, even if it's nothing to do with cultivating, and somehow word gets around and people start bringing school supplies, medicine, food, or other useful things along with them as gifts to help repay the hospitality. Young Liu Qingge comes by a lot on his way to and from various quests, or even seems to just turn up randomly sometimes (he comes to challenge YQ and SJ to fights), and SY's just like "I guess this is happening now" and teaches him to recognize the early signs of qi deviation and advises strongly against meditating in caves.

At one point a young Shang Qinghua turns up in one of the spare rooms, very obviously hiding an ice demon. Shen Yuan again is just like "I guess this is happening now" and shelters them until Mobei Jun has recovered, and sends a message to Cang Qiong that one of their An Ding caravans was attacked and their disciple is recovering under his roof but isn't well enough to travel yet. Much less stressful situation for Airplane (who is desperately trying to figure out what he did to manifest SJ's benevolent uncle from somewhere???)

Su Xiyan seems like the only person they met at the Immortal Alliance Conference who doesn't turn up at their door in a state of emergency at some point.

A few years later, there is a big scandal involving her and the demon emperor. Su Xiyan disappears, Huan Hua Palace accuses Tianlang Jun of plotting against the righteous sects, and Shen Yuan is even invited to the meeting where they try and rally everyone to go kill Binghe's dad. Naturally, he declines to participate in the witch hunt, but the major sects agree to it. By luck (or narrative fortune) Shen Yuan comes across Zhuzhi Lang on his trip back home, and mentions the ambush and his distaste for it (not knowing who ZZL is). ZZL warns Tianlang Jun and the confrontation goes very differently, especially since there's no Yue Qingyuan wielding Xuan Su.

It doesn't go well for the sects involved. Huan Hua Palace gets decimated. The Old Palace Master gets killed. Shen Yuan is like uhhhh that's... whoops? Didn't Luo Binghe need that in the future?? Fuck.

But the sect isn't wiped out completely, they just take a massive beating. Some of their younger disciples end up leaving and turning up on Shen Yuan's doorstep, for some reason. The manor house is becoming too small to account for all of these foundlings! They have to expand. Though the expansions would be a stretch to term a "palace" they end up occupying a much larger chunk of territory, and even investing in farmland and some storehouses to help support the sect. That's still not really a sect, of course. Even if a lot of the business that would have normally gone to Huan Hua Palace starts coming to them instead. Once HHP is back on its feet the stream will probably dry out. Probably?

Zhuzhi Lang starts hanging around. He's actually looking for Su Xiyan or their baby, dead or alive and per Tianlang Jun's instructions, but he uses Shen Yuan's school as base camp for his kind of hopeless efforts to find any traces of them, while also looking for ways to try and repay Shen Yuan. All the kids are just like "oh great, another weird man has fallen in love with Shizun -- someone go run interference" about it.

Some years later, an older woman and her young son turn up. Shen Yuan's off on a quest at the time, so SJ receives them. As is standard procedure he gives the woman a job and places the boy in classes, after giving him the aptitude tests. The kid is cute and precocious, so SJ uses him to distract YQ while he himself sneaks out to go join LQG on a monster hunt (and claim the valuable parts of the beast's remains for himself), and neither SY nor ZZL notice anything until SY's going over the paperwork for stuff he missed while he was gone. Since he procrastinated, it takes him like a week to find out that Luo Binghe is finally under his roof. He's going over the admission form right when SJ arrives with The New Adorable Child to try and distract SY enough that SY will let him go on a solo hunt -- as far as being distracted goes, it is way more effective than even SJ anticipated.

Then he has to figure out how to let ZZL know, so that ZZL can let Tianlang Jun know, so that Luo Binghe will have more family than just his mom and more resources than just a shabby little not-sect! But even once he figures it out and sets up the dramatic reveal, TLJ is just like "great! so can he just stay with you? he's probably fine there" which... irritates SY.

SJ fully conscripts Luo Binghe as a minion in his many cons. He never lost his street kid conman tactics, although he now uses them less as a ruthless survival tool or weapon and more to just get things to go his own way. LBH has the face and disposition of a little angel, which SJ no longer can pull off as a full grown adult, so he fills a gap. LBH also knows full well what's going, especially since a lot of SJ's tactics involve throwing LBH at SY like a smoke bomb.

Luo Binghe inevitably still develops a big fat crush on SY, so this is fine by him. Especially when he gets older, he starts bringing SY tea and making him breakfast and running his errands until even SJ is like "wait a minute, this little brat's stealing my job!" and by then it's too late. Luo Binghe is SY's personal assistant, the disciple at conman puppydog eyes has surpassed the master! While SJ was busy being like "I'm going to trick this idiot into doing my chores" LBH was going "I'm going to trick this idiot into giving me his job".

SY takes too long to officially name his school so everyone calls it the Shen Sect, much to his embarrassment.

[soarrenbluejay]

Since I’ve been encouraged to actually share my funny little blorbo ideas here’s another one gang;

Danny moves to Gotham on scholarship for engineering, because the Fentons may be infamous but they’re also insanely brilliant and besides both he and Jazz are showing every sign of embarrassed child of a super genius syndrome, so while the bats are keeping a close eye on him Just In Case, duke is also thinking of introducing him to the Our Parents Are Maniacs But Anyway club maybe after the first month or so.

Gotham does not go for standard dorm living bc of his ‘condition’ and lack of wanting to constantly spook/gaslight a roommate. Besides, living with two small children is a dorm sounds like a disaster in action.

So Danny signs up as a mechanic in Crime Alley, buys himself a teeny weensy lil apartment and Makes It Work. He has been all year after showing up with a de aged Dani and Dan in Amnity after all, and that had gone,,, fine? (The entire town, observing how Danny had been getting increasingly more uncomfortable around his godfather prior to the cloning incident, then just dropped off the face of the earth for several months, the first two weeks stuck in Vlad’s basement enduring horrors and the next Too Many desperately fapping around in the Ghost Zone to get everything handled. All the clones live, all 13 of them. Bunch of them are stuck in the Ghost Zone due to constant need for ectoplasm, but eh, plenty of Zone born never leave, so. One, in the future, apprentices under a green warrior lady on Pandora’s suggestion, another is working in the Eternal Library with Ghost Writer, etc etc. so Danny eventually came back to Amnity with one small child under each arm very obviously traumatized by Somethingn with vlad and doesn’t like being alone with him,,, or touched without warning,, and immediately and passionately proclaims the kids his but struggles to explain how or why,, look some very reasonable assumptions are drawn okay. So the town does the very reasonable thing and does the midwestern equivilant of excommunicating Vlad, except it’s a lot more run him out with pitchforks vibes since he’s the Mayor. Anyway)

He is immediately loved, because while non Gothamites are usually more of a pain than they’re worth, everyone in a while someone even from out of town will just fit in so nicely it’s uncanny for everyone involved. Addams family vibes, it’s referred to as ‘making it home’, just personal hc. He is protective of all the kids playing in the parks and street girls that can totally take care of themselves on their corners but find it HILARIOUS when he just tackles a dick like a wild animal full force no warning. He can fix anything it seems, but refuses to work with weapons. Reasonable enough, people get twitchy about gangs sometimes. Danny mentions being not against Hood or anything, but he’s not going to work for him, littles to take care of and all, but had past experience with ‘Dora and that inheritance mess with her brother he was being a real prick about’ so everyone assumes it’s the equivilant of him having Done His Time and being plenty good for a life time and respects it as long as none of that petty midwestern small town hotshots bring any of that shit over here. And they don’t, because said individuals are on the other side of the mortal veil, so happy day.

See I really love deaged!Dan because he’s just a grumpy lil guy. But he’s also killed millions. He’s so protective of his loved ones, but held back by blending in and also being Smol that it comes off more bitey kitten than anything else. Dani, of course, is a terror, so she fits right in with the crowd.

And sorry gang, but a bunch of kids on their own in Gotham in a poor side of the city just isn’t going to get any attention: that’s just business as usual really. What first gets attention on Danny is not his ‘condition’ or being mistaken for a meta (which he legally probs has an argument for even without the gene bc like these bitches don’t know how metaism works anyway so) or alien (I’m 90% sure he’d be covered by the alien protection act by virtue of being half ‘not from earth’), but because Danny despite best efforts is a Weird Guy.

He grew up in what could only be described as a low level villain level and spent most of high school dealing with smack downs and spiritual invasion. He’s never really processed that any of that is not in fact Normal. Also, he’s capable of making Anything if given the insides of a toaster, blender and alarm clock, and could probably rewrite the circuits of the apartment blindfolded and improve them 1000% even if it ABSOLUTELY would not be up to code.

And sure, things slip every once in a while, bits of spectral ice here, small floating incident there, but everyone just Minds Their Buisness ya know? You really gunna mess with the guy that personally ensured that when your car got flattened by a fight with Killer Croc, you were still able to get in to work the next day by some wizardry? Really?

But Gotham is a city so cursed it’s probably in the exponents countwise, so of course there is a) a flourishing community of magic users and assorted supernatural weirdos and b) a whole lot of shit for Mega Overpowered Ghost King Danny to idly pick at day to day in order to help with his protecting other Obsession. Gotham has plenty of heroes, but by god do they need the spiritual equivilant of an electrician/priest.

Still, Danny, as a baby ancient under a facet of Kronos and KING OF THE DEAD is like, way, way out of their scope to be able to grok, so it mostly just comes off as you know, a family of banshees or something. When asked, Danny very haltingly says he was briefly dead but then revived, which neatly explains his Weird Ass aura and makes it SPECTACULARLY AWKWARD to ask further about. So everyone nods politely, and goes back to their lives after double checking no nefarious bullshit was being pulled.

Then, of course, Vlad finally tracks them down. The whole neighborhood is altered in short order because he doesn’t bother trying to hide being a Rich Bitch or how he’s sneering down his nose at people on the sidewalk. Every connects the dots when Danny paniks. Dani and Dan’s daycare are staffed with some extra, very buff set of hands within the hour. Jerry, Hood’s third in command, personally shows up to the garage Danny is working at to talk things out with him bc he knows he does t like the deal with this stuff due to past unspecified circumstances but well, they guys had already started fucking with him, you see. Stole his tires, spray painted the windows, pickpocketed him blind, and when he retreated tipped off the police to the drugs they’d planted in the glove box.

Danny might not have been born in Gotham, but he was one of them. And the Alley takes care of it own.

[malkaviian]

how to realize i've had enough academically speaking today: i started to think about rafael and luca's domestic life, in case they somehow meet and get together after rafael's divorce.

[angelltheninth]

Arcane Characters Dealing With Problems Badly

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman, Ekko, Silco, Sevika, Vander, Jayce, Viktor, Mel x Reader

Tags: angst, fluff, comfort, getting into fights, working late, protectiveness, massage, fake smiles, lack of sleep

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: Arcane S2 is approaching and with it my emotional breakdown.

JINX

Bites her nails a lot out of nervousness

Relentlessly tinkers away at her desk, hardly even eating or drinking anything to make sure her body doesn't shut down

Talks with the people she sees but you don't and then tells you that she's fine because she's not alone, clearly she isn't fine, she doesn't want you to worry

Gets angry when you ask too many questions about her problems

Feels bad right after but there are just some things she's not ready to talk about, family things that she needs to sort out, but are free to stay by her side if it will make you feel better

VI

Pretends that there's nothing wrong

She learned in prison that showing any weakness if a bad thing so she tends to avoid it if she can

Hopes to distract you with kissing and flirting

Says that one of the best ways to get over things is a good fight so she seeks those out until she feels better

Of course this means that she comes back with a lot of bruises and maybe even a broken rib or two, but hey at least she got everything out of her system

CAITLYN

Obsesses over her problem to the point of losing sleep

Knows this is a problem for her but doesn't know how to fix it, she only knows how to fix other problems, and always before her own

Fell asleep at her office desk quite a few times

Doesn't even come home some nights but greets you down at the Enforcer HQ and gives you a kiss when you hand her the morning cup of coffee

Takes very short breaks to spend some time with you

EKKO

Includes you in solving most problems he needs to solve but doesn't give up until it's done

Takes a few unnecessary risks in the process

Risks his own safety, never someone else's, least of all yours

Call him stubborn if you must, he will admit that he is but everything he does is for a better future of you and all of his friends, for that no risk is too great

There's not a job dangerous enough to keep him away from it, he will try to keep you away, for your safety

SILCO

Can get a bit worked up when things don't end up going his way

Maintains a calm exterior when dealing with other people

In his job he needs to seem like he's in control of things even when he's not

Always tells you when he's gonna stay late so you don't worry that something happened to him, not realizing that you worry because these long nights have been getting more frequent

Finally has people who he can call h

SEVIKA

Good luck with trying to get her to open up with anything that's emotionally taxing on her

Blunt when she needs to threaten or insult but extremely slow when revealing her emotions

Would much rather drink, fight or fuck them away than give them a time of day

She's always been like this, you shouldn't expect her to change any time soon

Gets very guarded with her emotions if you try to prod at them, yet she's careful not to let her anger out on you, she likes you more than most people, you're fun

VANDER

Tries to avoid dragging you into his problems if he has anything to say about it

He knows you notice that he's more on guard, more careful when the bar is open, his eyes scanning the crowd for danger

Does tell you to keep your eyes open for anything suspicious but no more than that, he can deal with it when the time comes

Cracks a lot of jokes to make you feel better, safer

Promises that nothing will happen to you while he's still in charge, and he will keep it that way too

JAYCE

He's had to put on a fake smile more times than he can count, he can do it now too

Usually he's very honest with things that bother him, it's easy to open up to you

Yet this time he's closed off, working away on his blueprints, furiously writing things down in his notebook and even forgetting to eat the sandwiches he loves so much

A massage does help relax his pent up shoulders, he knows it's not good for him

Only when he's at the end of his rope does he admit what's been bothering him and let you help him

VIKTOR

Usually he closes himself up in his lab to work late nights so it takes a few nights for you to notice there's something wrong

He hasn't been sleeping at all, not for a few days

Barely keeps his eyes open yet insists that he's fine and that you don't need to worry about him getting sick from lack of rest

Takes short rests when you're in the lab with him

Needs to be dragged away to bed if he's gonna get any real sleep

MEL

Really good at pretending to be fine and being in control of things, even when she's pretending in front of you

Being in the Council for as long as she has she had to learn how to keep her guard up

Kisses your cheek when she tells you that her problems are her own, not for you to worry your pretty head about

Will spend the night with you but be gone first thing in the morning

Her nightmares get worse the longer this goes on

[shrimpybbq]

season 1 rafe with his gf & son

i have to be sooo truthful here in that rafe is like 90% the actual worst during the events of season 1 to high school gf!

he's still doing drugs and going to parties, never coming home until the early morning if at all

maybe he was on better terms with his gf for a while, but everyone on the island knows that the pair are always on-and-off

when they are good, rafe is surprisingly sweet to her. he's always opening doors and looking after their son so she can rest. rafe is so much more physically affectionate too during these times, with his hands always on her, stroking her hip or playing with her hair

and then when they fight, it's like all that goes away and he's back to ignoring her

she lives in the main house now as that's where their son's nursery is, but most of the time she's sleeping in the guest room after they argue

rafe's idea of family bonding is going to the country club, drinking his expensive whiskey and eating overpriced food. he likes seeing his son look around wide-eyed at the new sights and new people, and he enjoys having his son sit in his lap while he drinks, mumbling nonsense to see his little smile

he tries to take his son out golfing once only to realise that he couldn't be away from his mother for so long, much to his annoyance. it's fine though bc he's insisting they all go together next time - problem solved in his mind

rafe and high school gf! go to midsummer's together as each others dates. rafe wouldn't have let her go with anyone else anyway, but he likes the display of having her on his arm. he matches his suit to the floral design of her gown to make the statement even clearer (they have a child together and he's worried about people knowing she's his???)

he manages to hide a lot of the events that go on from his gf, but some of them still reach her ears courtesy of sarah, and he can't stand the disappointed look she gives him. sometimes though, he makes her sit down and listen to his explanation, trying to get her to see his side. he's so relieved when she nods and no longer looks at him in that way (but she still doesn't tell him he was right, he always notes)

when barry burns rafe, he's knocking on the door of the guest room with tears in his eyes, clutching his badly burnt arm to his chest. gf just looks at him wide-eyed, telling him to sit on her bed while she grabs the first aid kit. rafe can't help but let the tears stream down his face as she cleans, his head coming to rest on her shoulder as he sobs. that night is the first time he sleeps with her in the guest room, his head nuzzled into her chest as she cradles him

ok but if barry ever threatens his girl and kid rafe won't let it go. he's landing a punch on the drug dealer's face immediately, his rage spiking instantaneously. barry learns not to threaten them again after the second time he wore purple bruises on his chin

oh, sweet pretty gf has no idea what rafe has done to the sheriff, and he plans to keep it that way. he wanted to protect his dad, but he absolutely refuses to let anything happen to his own family. she's so shocked when he tells her of john b's actions, the boy having lived down the hall from them, and rafe plays into the role of protector again. he's got her in his arms as she cries about how he was around their son, and rafe just hums and tells her "i would never let someone hurt either of you, you know that right?". it warms his heart to see her nod into his chest.

sometimes his gf walks into the nursery only to see her son not in his crib, but she knows exactly where he is. pushing open rafe's door she sees the two of them in bed, her sweet baby cuddled up on rafe's bare chest as they both sleep. he needs to be with his son when he has a bad day, which seems to be more often than not nowadays

rafe is rapidly growing more mentally unwell and the only thing that seems to soothe him is his gf and son, and he spends as much time as he can with them. the little baby is always in his arms as he coos down at him, watching his kid's eyes brighten at the sight of his dada. rafe reasons with himself that everything he does is to protect his family and that he couldn't be wrong then, could he?

Click here for pre-season 1 rafe, gf & their unborn son

Click here for season 2 rafe, gf & their son

Click here for season 3 rafe, gf & their son

Click here for season 4 part 1 rafe, gf & their son

Click here for the 18 month gap before season 4 rafe, gf & their son

Oh this was a bit of a novel, but rafe truly has so many facets to explore, let alone once you give him a big motivator like a kid!

[zillychu]

I’ve gotten a WAVE of asks about this AU, so I decided to flesh it out some more and answer some of those questions!

I’ll probably polish this extended summary up at some point and submit it to AO3. But for now, here’s a rundown of my thoughts–please feel free to send more questions! I’ll update this post if I get any more. But if you’re someone who wanted to write fic for it, don’t worry, you don’t need to take my headcanons as gospel. It’s a pretty basic AU honestly lol

Summary:

The portal accident results in a violent explosion that wipes out the whole block, and condemns all of Amity Park. Danny haunts the city for 100 years, before Sam and Tucker find him. 

Setup:

In the 1920’s, 19-year-old Danny went into the incomplete portal on his own, hoping to help out his parents. Ripping the portal open through unnatural means created a huge burst of energy that resulted in a massive explosion. A good portion of the Amity Park population died, many were injured, and the ones on the fringes relocated–Amity was quickly deemed too dangerous due to the excess ectoplasm in the area that attracted ghosts. 

While the disaster was in Amity, the fallout was seen around the globe. Before, natural portals were rare, short-lived, and rarely allowed ghosts to fully slip into our realm (the most severe cases being on par with poltergeists that most people didn’t believe in). Now, natural portals pop open frequently around the world, large enough to allow the entirety of a ghost into the physical plane. They’re more common the closer you get to Amity, but they happen enough elsewhere that this change was something of a small apocalypse before people settled back down and found out how to combat at least some of their new, permanent neighbors. 

Danny is unaware that he’s only half-dead, believing he’s a full ghost. He ends up sticking around Amity, unintentionally making it his haunt. His grief and guilt over causing the death of his loved ones (and many others) makes him isolate and avoid human contact. Though he has, at times, scared nosy people away from the city in a mix of territorial instinct–and to get them to leave before a less friendly ghost finds them. 

Ghosts are much more of an uncontested danger in this AU. Lesser ghosts are practically mindless, and while stronger ghosts are capable of reason, their interests are limited. They’re highly territorial, possessive, and often destructive. Most worrisome is that they also like to snack on the life force of anything alive. No one is sure what dictates a ghost’s propensity to attack or hunt the living for their life force since ghosts don’t exactly experience hunger. At least, not the way we do. If a human is rescued before their life force is fully drained, they can make a full recovery–though humanity has still not yet found what this “life force" is. 

And since the Fentons’ research died along with them, there aren’t many tools available to the public to protect them from ghosts. Most homes have standard ghost shields and some weapons are available on the market, but certified ghost hunters are required to take care of anything more powerful than your average spook. 

Sam and Tucker met in high school, and are now rooming together for college very close to the Amity border. Rent is surprisingly cheap when you’re a stone’s throw away from a condemned area crawling with ghosts. Sam is the one who drags Tucker along with her fascination over finding out more about the city, and its largely mysterious demise. Sam is aware of the danger, but feels ghosts have a place in this world just like everything else, and does exercise caution–like one would while foraging in the woods with a known tiger population. 

What she and Tucker weren’t expecting was to run into a ghost that felt almost human. One that hasn't hurt them, not for lack of trying–while being powerful enough to walk past ghost shields without so much as a flinch. The long white hair is familiar in the whispers of the ectobiologist community, but there’s no way it could be the rumored ghost king Phantom, right?

About Danny:

He has very long hair, claws, and black sclera. His hazmat suit is more torn and ragged, with exposed hands and feet that fade into a burnt black.

His hair tends to float a lot on its own. It can start morphing into fire under duress. 

He does still technically have gloves and boots, they've just charred and melted into his skin towards the ends. He can't take them off in his ghost form. His hands and feet have a leathery texture that's tougher than the rest of his skin.

The white of his hazmat suit is both supposed to look like flames, and also a battered look representing his more violent, explosive death.

Overall, he appears rather listless and sad, with an unnerving air of danger around him–even for a ghost. 

Danny’s “ghost sense” comes out as white smoke.

He does breathe black smoke at times, usually when agitated. 

He's already fought and defeated Pariah Dark by the time Sam and Tucker find him, technically making him the Ghost King. This is heavily speculated by ghost experts, despite there being no real proof beyond a massive battle that scarred Illinois. He has not donned the Ring or the Crown, and captured sentient ghosts are hesitant to answer questions surrounding him. Danny basically has the throne but doesn’t do anything with it, and finds it meaningless enough to routinely forget he has the title. He only fought Pariah because he knew otherwise, humanity would have perished. A lot of ghosts are scared of him because he's so hard to figure out, and he's strong. 

Danny is usually very quiet and speaks softly, because his lungs were damaged in the blaze that half-killed him. He's technically healed since becoming a ghost, so it's more of a compulsion due to the traumatic memory. That, and he’s just… very forlorn and distant, shy around humans who don’t seem to understand how dangerous it is to keep hanging around him.

His memories pre-accident are extremely fuzzy. He knows the very basics of who he was, but specifics have been muffled due to trauma and isolation. He routinely forgets human habits, etiquette, etc. and tends to act more like a full ghost with some odd quirks. 

He does try to scare Sam and Tucker off numerous times. Unfortunately for him, they realized they shouldn't have been able to escape a ghost that strong–but they did, because he let them. 

Sam and Tucker think he's mute at first! He doesn't speak a word to them until several encounters later, when he fumbles his whole scary act and saves them from another ghost. 

He’s still half-ghost, though he doesn’t figure this out until Sam and Tucker come along trying to unravel the mysteries behind the Amity catastrophe. Physically and emotionally, he’s been stuck for 100 years–so his human form is still 19. It’s unclear at this point if he can age normally like a human as long as he stays in human form, or if he’s immortal. 

Danny's family did not turn into ghosts, though he sometimes worries he'll find them in the afterlife as shells of their former selves. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he's not sure he'd recognize them. 

(Danny also still has some living family. Take a guess.)

Yes, he knows how to Wail. Understandably, he very rarely uses it. You do not want to witness this.

Danny :) is not immune :) from the allure of eating a human's life force :)))

[sanarsi]

Euphoria

professor!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader

Summary: One wrong call led to this, that instead of your boyfriend, it's your professor who picks you up from the party. Warnings: +18, MDNI, mention of drugs and alcohol, use of drugs (by reader), being under the influence of drugs, protective!Joel, angst, professor-student relationship, age gap (not specified), kinda perv!Joel(??? idk you'll judge), blowjob, pussy eating, cheating (kinda), protected PIV (he had a vasectomy), creampie, dom!Joel, no-outbreak AU, Sarah’s alive and happy, dubcon kinda? Wordcount: 8,1k An: Hiii, I would like to ask you to read the warnings before reading. If you are comfortable with the topic of drugs, angst and sex under the influence, I invite you to read and I hope you enjoy it. Meal is a meal and professor Miller is professor Miller so… this is just a good shit. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! <3 Music I worked with: Make You Mine - Madison Beer

Masterlist

The music was getting louder in your ears. Pushing through the sweaty, dancing people was becoming more and more of a challenge. Everything was starting to spin. You needed some fresh air.

The pills you took didn't work as they should have. Maybe you drank too much before, maybe you had a bad day, or maybe the guy had some shitty stuff.

Your lungs started to collapse more and more as you tried to take another breath. You panicked. You started pushing through the crowd faster and more aggressively. They didn't give a shit about you as much as you didn't give a shit about them.

Here, everyone lived their own life. Everyone had fun. You wanted too.

Until now.

A silent scream tried to escape you as you began to gulp air. You couldn't breathe any other way. You were getting weaker and weaker. Everything was getting hazy. The music was getting less and less distinct. Everything was like behind thick glass.

And right in the middle, in a little glass box, was you. Locked away with no access to oxygen and no cry for help.

You were alone.

Just when you thought the crowd would swallow you, you saw the door. A light at the end of the tunnel.

Something inside you, some instinct, forced your legs to move towards the exit. Your body acted as if it was programmed, like you weren't the one controlling it. Some greater force was moving you like a puppet.

The same force made the mysterious man appeared in front of you. You stopped, frowning and trying to focus your vision to identify his identity. But his face was blurry. Just like the touch of his arms, which wrapped around you to stop your body from falling.

"You've had enough for now," he said, slightly amused, and began to pull you towards the exit. You knew him. His voice was like a breath of fresh air and his arms gave you a false sense of security. You liked that voice. You liked the feeling that allowed you to take a moment to rest amidst the chaos around you and inside you.

"Call Joel," you mumbled indistinctly.

You reached your hand into the back pocket of your jeans and tried to pull out your phone a few times, but your strength disappeared. You couldn't even bring yourself to clench your fingers around this damn thing.

You were helpless and barely conscious, which made tears appear in your eyes.

Why did something like this have to happen when you finally wanted to break free and needed it more than anything else?

Why couldn't you have fun like the rest of them for once?

Why was it always you who got screwed?

"What's your password?" The pleasant male voice spoke again.

You frowned, closing your eyes as you tried to force yourself to think, or worse – say it out loud. The wind blow across your heated skin, making you shiver. You were freezing cold despite it being the middle of summer.

You felt bad and it was getting worse with every passing minute.

"Four zeros," you managed to choke out and looked around shakily. You were standing at the top of the stairs leading to the house.

When had you two left? You didn't register that moment.

The arm around your waist dug harder into your flesh as your knees buckled beneath you. You gasped, trying to keep your weight on the unstable sticks which were your, not so useful right now, legs.

The slightest gust of wind, or even a slight tilt of your head, made you swung like a blade of grass in the wind.

The feeling of falling sent panic through the corners of your brain, but your eyelids continued to droop heavily, blocking your vision. You braced yourself for the pain that was about to dull the rest of your senses, but all you felt was something hard under and behind you. After a moment, a cold sensation appeared around your head, which brought you no small amount of relief.

You purred with pleasure, snuggling closer to the metal railings by the stairs. Your friend looked down at you with concern before he went back to searching for the right contact in your phone.

And that's when the first problem appeared.

You had two phone numbers saved the same way.

Joel.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath and selected the first contact.

Seconds passed, another ring sounded by his ear until automatic voicemail went off.

In that case, it had to be the second number, he thought. Since the first one was inactive, the second one had to be the good one, right?

Bull's eye.

After the third ring, a sleepy 'hello' sounded in the speaker.

"Hi, sorry to wake you up, but your girlfriend isn't in the best shape," he started immediately, glancing at your semi-conscious figure, cowering on the stairs. “’think she took some crappy stuff and is goin’ down the drain. She told me to call you. Can you come pick her up?”

There was silence on the other end.

A long silence.

A drawn-out silence.

He had to check phone to make sure the call was still going.

“Hello?”

“Give me the address.”

A quick exchange of the most necessary information ended the conversation. That was enough for Joel to appear in the district where the address was located in less than twenty minutes.

You were sitting cuddled in the arm of your friend, who was soothingly stroking your back. He didn't know if you had fallen asleep or if you were just that calm. He only hoped that you weren't struggling too much in your head after taking some shit. You weren't able to help him find out what and who you took it from.

His attention was drawn to the car that stopped in front of the house.

"Joel came to pick you up," he whispered with a smile and noticed that you woke up a bit at his words. You blinked a few times, raising your gaze.

"’s not that Joel," you mumbled.

He frowned, surprised by your reaction, and looked towards the man who just got out of the car and headed towards you.

At first, he couldn't recognize his face, but the closer he got, the clearer it became.

Indeed, he didn't look like your boyfriend. He was... too old to be in a relationship with you. He looked more like your father.

Maybe he was your uncle and he just got you into trouble? Damn it.

"You're not her boyfriend," he stated as Joel stopped by the stairs. His gaze was fixed on you and this sight definitely didn't satisfy him but he tried to didn't show it.

"Do I look like him?" he muttered unpleasantly and looked disapprovingly at the young boy who was holding you in his arms.

His silence was quite telling.

"What did she take?" he asked glancing at your barely conscious form.

"I don't–"

"Wonderful." The rough answer, silenced him effectively. "Did she have some stuff with her?" The next question only stressed the young boy out more.

"Are you her father or somethin’?" he asked, a bit skeptical of the older man.

"I'm her teacher," he replied, pressing his lips together tightly at the sight of you.

No one expected such an answer.

A quiet voice in your friend head blamed him for confusing the contacts and calling a strange guy instead of your boyfriend. What confused him more, was reason, why you had your teacher's number in your phone. And what was even more interesting, was why he picked up at such a late hour and decided to come pick you up.

"I–" he began, not very convinced by the fact that he had to hand you over to a strange guy who was your 'teacher'.

"I'll take her home," he cut him off firmly before he could express his distrust.

Without waiting for the boy to answer, Joel approached you and took your jaw in his hand. You frowned at the sudden movement, because your head was spinning in a bad way. Your gaze was absent as he tried to assess your condition.

Fact, you were in bad shape. He didn't even know if you were able to recognize him, which made the situation a bit more difficult.

"Sweetheart, tell me what you took," he said in a soft but firm tone.

You snorted sweetly, because his voice had a strangely soothing effect on your insides. You couldn't recognize his blurry face, but his touch was familiar. Warm, thick fingers that sent warm shivers through your body. You wanted to melt in his hand, and that's exactly what you did.

The entire weight of your head flew towards him, which made him tighten his grip, digging his fingers into your cheeks.

"Sweetheart..." he repeated softly to get your attention.

You opened your eyes with a blissful smile and tried with all your might to remember who those dark chocolate eyes belonged to. But it was his glasses that made a light bulb go off in your head.

“Just one blue pill, Professor,” you replied, causing relief from Joel and surprise from your friend.

"What are the blue ones for?" he asked, returning to his cold tone as he looked at the young boy.

"I– I don't know," he stuttered, frightened by sudden change in man’s behavior towards him.

"Then find out," he growled, nodding toward the house. Not a second had passed when the boy hurriedly disappeared behind the door.

Joel looked at you again with concern. You didn't look as bad as you had a moment ago. In fact, you looked like you were having a great time. Maybe you had a slightly wandering look, but the smile on your face and the sparkles in your eyes gave a misleading impression.

He knelt down in front of you with a quiet groan and looked at you from every side. There were no signs that anything bad had happened to you.

One stone from the heart. You were safe and sound. A little high, but healthy.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked and with his other hand he fixed the hair that was falling over your face. You watched his movements as if enchanted.

Everything had more vivid colors. His eyes were darker, deeper; you could drown in them. Every move he made seemed to play out in slow motion, giving you all the time you wanted to admire him.

"Joel Miller," you replied, smiling wider. "I didn't know you liked parties," you added before he could say anything. You threw him off balance with that.

He frowned, looking at you closely and he had to admit that he himself had once been young and had done a lot of... illegal things; that's why he decided to go in the direction you had imposed.

"I don't, but sometimes it happens and I end in places like this. I'm a little too old for such fun, you know?" he smiled gently, seeing that you were feeling better and better or the opposite – the drugs were starting to work.

"Just like me. But I'm young." You laughed charmingly, to which he laughed too and nodded. Your burst of energy was starting to worry him a little, but he'd rather that than you having a bad trip.

"So... since we're both not into parties, how about I take you home?"

He was treading thin ice to see if you'd cooperate with him. Unfortunately, your smile suddenly disappeared and he cursed in his mind.

"I can't, my parents think I'm at a friend's," you explained, rubbing your arm nervously.

Okay, that wasn't the answer that would put him in a bind.

"Then I'll take you to your friend's," he suggested but all he got in response was a negative shake of the head.

"She left."

That was already causing a bigger problem.

Joel tried to think quickly. All the possibilities flew through his head, choosing a few that he could test.

"Your friend said something about your boyfriend," he remembered, feeling that this was the way out of the whole situation. Your boyfriend, who was supposed to come here instead of him. At least that's what he concluded from the call he received.

"That asshole stood me up. He was supposed to come here with me, but he went with his friends to who knows where," you snapped, feeling furious at the jerk who dared to call himself your partner. Maybe you would regret this relationship if it wasn't for the fact that you were together for sex. Actually, apart from that, you didn't even like each other that much.

Despite that, he was good in bed, he took care of you at parties and other outings, and his name was Joel.

Exactly.

You were with him because you could shamelessly scream his name while you fucked, while really thinking about someone else. But that was your sweet secret. Sweet secret that held your jaw, staring at you through the lenses of his glasses.

"You don’t have anyone I could take you to?" he asked, increasingly helpless.

You smiled sweetly and shook your head in denial. "Nope."

A quiet sigh left his lips as he tried to think of a way out of this situation.

The worry in his eyes didn't match your current mood. You didn't like the fact that he was sad around you. You wanted to have fun, be happy, forget about all your problems for a moment.

"That's why I have to stay at the party until the morning," you said with a wide smile, at which he frowned.

"No," he ordered seriously, surprising you a bit. You rarely witnessed Joel addressing anyone like that. Especially you – his favorite. "I won't let you stay here when you're under the influence of some shitty pills."

"But–"

"No," he cut you off immediately. "I don't want to hear a word of protest. I'm your teacher even outside of working hours. I have to take care of your safety." His tone clearly indicated that he didn't want to hear your reasons for staying.

How could you argue with a man whose every word was sacred to you? Even if you wanted to, you couldn't because your friend came out of the house, catching your attention or at least Joel's attention, because yours was still focused only on him.

A smile bloomed on your face again as you could look at him with impunity.

Oh, he was handsome.

Deadly handsome for a man his age. Your father was younger than him and he looked much worse.

How was it even possible that you started to be attracted to a man older than your own father? You didn't know that, but you weren't going to delve into it because you liked the feeling he aroused in you.

"She took ecstasy." You heard from somewhere behind you before Joel looked straight into your eyes again as if he was looking for something. You didn't know for what, because he couldn't be looking for you; you were right in front of him.

"Come on, sweetheart," he sighed with a warm smile and slowly stood up. "I'll take you home, okay?" he suggested, holding out his hand to you.

You looked up at him with doe eyes and nodded silently. You didn't want him to be mad at you.

You didn't want to let him down so you politely gave him your hand and let him pull you up. It took a moment for your legs to get used to doing their duties again before you could fully stand on your own but despite that, Joel still wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you tightly to his side.

He didn’t want to risk you falling and cracking your head. Fate liked to play games with people and he had learned that the hard way many times. Way too many times.

Without any additional pleasantries, he led you to his car and sat you in the passenger seat. Your head was getting heavier as you tried to watch his movements; the way he fastened your seatbelt, the way he made sure you weren't sick, the way he ran his gaze down your body to make sure everything was okay.

But all he had to do was close the door and your eyelids closed by themselves. The car was quiet, nice and warm. You felt safe and the delicate scent of perfume he used only relaxed your muscles more.

Joel got into the car and before he drove away, he glanced at how you were trying not to let your eyelids fall. He sighed quietly, shaking his head in resignation and slowly drove out onto the street. Silence fell between you due to the fact that you had lost the fight with tiredness and simply fell asleep.

And at the same time he was struggling with his thoughts of what he should do. What was appropriate for him to do. He should have taken you home. Even if you were going to have a row after crossing the threshold. It was none of his business what happened to you after he got you to safety.

But another thought lurked in his mind. An idea that shouldn't have been there. Had no right to be there. Yet this thought overshadowed what was right.

Because Joel had long since admitted to himself that you were more important to him than the rest of the students. He had stopped denying how much he enjoyed sitting with you in his office in the evenings, helping you study. After many months of struggling with himself, he realized how much he appreciated your company, your attention, your smile, all of you.

That's why the thought of taking you home and witnessing the fight immediately slipped of off his mind.

He didn't want to cause you any trouble at home. The fact that he found you in such a state only proved that you had enough to worry about. Why would he give you more? He didn't like it when your pretty little head was filled with problems he couldn't help you with. But with what was happening now, he could help you.

That’s why after twenty minutes he stopped in front of his house.

You continued to sleep soundly, not worrying about anything anymore and he didn't have the heart to wake you up. You looked too innocent for him to interrupt your peaceful state of unconsciousness. The smudged mascara and a bit of glitter on your eyelids only added to your charm.

Joel really wanted to hate himself for the way his heart beat at the sight of you, but he couldn't. He couldn't hate the feeling you evoked in him. Because this feeling was good. Warmth spread across his chest and more wrinkles formed around his eyes from the wide smiles you caused in him.

You were like a ray of sunshine. Why would he hate the sunbeam that fell on him?

He knew he shouldn't feel this way. You were his student, the best he'd ever had the chance to teach. But he couldn't fight it. Not when you were pushing yourself into his arms. When you gave him your full attention. When your hand touched his every chance you got. He just couldn't.

That's why it didn't bother him at all to carry you home. Actually, he did it with all too much desire. He couldn't resist the feeling of holding you in his arms as your head rested peacefully on his shoulder.

The door closed behind him with a soft click as he slowly walked down the hallway. Darkness reigned everywhere after he was suddenly yanked out of bed. Now there wasn't much left of his desire to sleep.

He carefully opened the door to the guest room and tightened his arms a little as he walked with you over the threshold. As if to spite you, your phone began to vibrate, which made you grumble anxiously. He quickly laid you on the bed and reached into the back pocket of your pants. The bright screen forced him to squint as he tried to see who was calling you at this hour.

Joel.

He frowned, glancing at you and then back at the phone. Before he could think about his decision, he clicked the red receiver, rejecting the call and muted your phone, placing it on the cabinet next to it. Just in case, he did it in such a way that another incoming call wouldn't be visible.

Your quiet groan caught his attention so he didn't wait for you to wake up any longer and carefully started to take off your shoes; right after that, socks. He couldn't let you sleep uncomfortably after, what was probably a pretty lively, party. He felt that he had to take care of not only your safety but also your comfort, so that you could wake up in the morning without any consequences after tonight. And only because of that reason, his gaze wandered to your legs covered in jeans.

He cursed himself in his mind because of the ideas that started to come to his mind.

He couldn't.

He should leave you like this and go back to his bedroom.

He should have done it.

And yet, he leaned closer to you and gently stroked your cheek. "Sweetheart," he said quietly, wanting to wake you up.

Although there was at least that much common sense left in him.

He smiled fondly when he saw that you opened your eyelids a little with a grunt. "Lift your hips," he ordered and all he got in response was to do as he asked. No questions or comments.

Feeling the growing tightness in his chest, he unbuttoned your button and zipper. Deep down he knew how fucking wrong it was. But he couldn't fight it as his fingers began to slide the material of your jeans down your hips.

Another grievous sin was added to his mental list as his gaze fell on your underwear. The lump in his throat began to grow with every second his eyes were fixed on your black panties.

So damn plain black cotton panties.

Then why was this the sexiest sight in his whole life?

"Fuck," he cursed in a whisper and pulled your pants all the way down. Then your hips fell back onto the mattress with a quiet sigh.

He felt like a pervert, seeing you like this when you were on the edge of reality and dream so he forced himself to leave the room while he still could.

How long before he gave in?

It took a trip to the bathroom and his room.

Then he reappeared by the bed where you were lying half naked; with his old t-shirt in one hand and micellar fluid in the other. Having a daughter had many advantages, so he knew that falling asleep with makeup on was not something pleasant.

That's why for the next ten minutes he gently wiped your face with soaked cotton pads. He sat by your side, carefully wiped off the smallest traces of makeup and had to admit, that it was also refreshing even for him. A moment of silence helped him calm his thoughts, and the sight of your innocent face only confirmed that he had to take care of you. That was all that mattered now.

Until the moment you purred and delicate smile spread across your lips.

That was enough for a burning heat to appear in his chest again.

"This feels nice," you whispered in a slightly hoarse voice.

Joel was just finishing cleaning your cheek when your eyes began to stare at him. This time you didn't have a wandering gaze. You seemed... normal.

He quickly believed it because he wanted to believe it. He wanted you to be sober at the moment when you were closer than ever before. When you were in his house. Lying in his bed. On his sheets.

"How do you feel?" he asked, placing the cotton pad on the cabinet next to him, not taking his eyes off your shiny ones.

"Good." Your smile didn't disappear for a moment as you watched him carefully. You definitely weren't complaining about seeing him, but you wondered about other thing. "Where are we?" After that question, you looked around the dark room a bit. You didn't remember ever being in this place. It was too pretty here compared to the places you usually stayed.

"In my house," he replied, a bit afraid of your reaction.

Maybe he really should have taken you to your house despite the problems that were to come?

Maybe he went too far by bringing you to his place without your consent.

It's true that at university you were close, but it was always at the university. Never outside of it.

"It's nice here."

Your comment dispelled all his doubts. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath when a sigh of relief finally left his lungs.

"Do you need anything?" he asked, wanting to get back on solid ground.

Your presence of mind would allow him to pull himself together. All you had to do was say you were tired. That you wanted to go to sleep. That you wanted for him to leave you alone.

Anything that would indicate that he should go and leave you alone.

"Can I have a glass of water, please?" you asked, looking at him as if the request was too much to ask for.

You had already violated his hospitality. He had picked you up from a party in the middle of the night and brought you to his house. You were slowly starting to feel like an idiot.

"Of course," he nodded and left the room, leaving you alone.

You rubbed your face with your hand and slowly sat up. A penetrating feeling of shame crept into your head as you began to look at your thighs.

Did you undress yourself or did he undress you? You probably didn't want to know the answer to that question.

You felt like you'd already made a fool of yourself. You couldn't even tell if the drugs were still affecting you. You felt light, good, but your mind was starting to work differently. You didn't know what to focus on what to think. There were so many things happening that you should have been in control of right now and yet you sat there helplessly, staring at your flesh.

You came to the conclusion that you probably didn't have the strength to feel ashamed of what was happening now. You were too tired. Your mind wouldn't cooperate with you, so the best option was to face everything in the morning.

Despite your momentary sobriety, you still couldn't fight the feeling that was growing in your belly. Like a big warm ball was warming up your insides and giving you pleasure. That was the only reason you had a constant blissful smile on your face. It felt good. Focusing on that feeling was much more enjoyable than trying to think.

Joel returned a few minutes later with a glass of water, finding you dressed in his shirt and sitting on the edge of the bed with your head down. He swallowed hard, fighting the feeling the sight of you had stirred in him. He didn't want to admit what it was doing to him.

“Here,” he said, catching your attention. You looked up at him, your eyes so big and shiny that he had to clench his jaw to control his emotions. It wasn’t until a moment later that your gaze dropped to the glass in front of your face and, with a silent 'thank you', you took it.

In silence, he sat down next to you and watched as you took small sips. The cold water brought you some relief and tasted much better than usual. Only when you had drunk half a glass, you put it on the cabinet next to you and wiped your lips with the back of your hand. The silence echoed in your ears, making you focus more on the growing feeling of pleasure in your body.

You had to do something to not fall into this.

"I'm sorry," you said, starting to gently bite your lip. Despite the whole situation, you wanted to smile. "This wasn't supposed to be like this."

"And what was it supposed to be like?" His question made you look at him. Warmth radiated from him. He didn't seem angry. He didn't seem like he blamed you for your irresponsibility. It was a strangely pleasant change from what you usually experienced with your father.

You laughed quietly and looked down. “I don’t know,” you admitted, shrugging. You didn’t even know how to answer that question. Because what exactly did you expect? “I wanted to escape reality for a bit.”

“Aren’t there other ways to do it?”

“There probably are, but that was the only one I know of.”

You might be ashamed of it, but it was the truth. There was nothing in your life that would allow you to forget, even for a moment, all the shit that was going on around you.

You didn't want to think about it at a time when you felt light as a feather. You clenched your fists tighter into the mattress to hold back your smile because all you wanted to do was gasp while laughing at how good you felt.

Joel didn't seem to notice. He felt like you were struggling with negative emotions and he wanted so badly to help you get rid of the thoughts that were occupying your mind. You looked like you were at least physically in pain as your entire body tensed up as if searching for the slightest point of contact. Without thinking too much, his hand covered yours. You let out a shaky breath as his large fingers tightened around yours. It was a comforting gesture on his part, but to you it was like pouring gasoline on a fire. His touch was all you could focus on. The hot, large hand that was touching your small, cold one.

You began to tremble. Everything inside you began to crave more of that feeling, even though his hand alone was enough to make a moan die in your throat.

"I want to help you."

His offer hung between you like heavy clouds. His words had no second meaning, and yet you took it that way.

He wanted to help you. But how?

How could he make your mind stop running with tormenting thoughts?

You searched for the answer to this question in his eyes and even though this was an ordinary question, something else was lurking inside him. Something that you caught. Or at least that's what you thought.

However, thinking at a time like this wasn't working out very well for you. That's why you didn't know how your lips found their way to his. You couldn't remember when you got so close, pressing a strong kiss to his mouth.

You squeezed your eyes shut, frozen and waiting for his answer but Joel was in too much shock to do anything. Even breathing seemed like a superhuman ability now. That's why after the seconds dragged on, you pulled away with a sense of shame. Seeing the shock on his face, you really felt like an idiot but you couldn't control yourself. You didn't even know how on earth you decided to do something like that. How on earth did you decide to cross the sacred border.

"Professor, I'm sorry-" you tried to explain yourself but then his hand found its way into your hair, pulling you firmly only for him to initiate the kiss this time.

You moaned not expecting such a turn of events. His stubble pleasantly irritated your skin, sending waves of stars all over your body. A smile spread across your lips as his proximity began to stimulate you. Soft lips perfectly matched yours. Every kiss he gave you was like you had done it a thousand times before. His tongue was delicate and sweet, making you purr with pleasure. Every second of his closeness gave you more strength.

He and drugs were the most addictive combination you had ever had the opportunity to try. Apart from the fact that all your desires, that you had for this man for a very long time, were coming true.

Neither of you even thought about how fucked up it all was. You both wanted this too much to care about anything but each other's touch.

Even Joel started to feel like he was high. Your soft lips and quiet sighs gave him shivers of desire. He couldn't remember the last time his cock hardened as quickly as the moment your hand started to travel up his thigh.

He couldn't hold back a groan when your fingers gently tightened around the bulge in his sweatpants. The mere fact that he was so turned on by you, sent waves of arousal through every corner of your body. Heavenly feeling overshadowed all your senses.

“Please,” you whispered desperately into his mouth.

You felt his hand tighten around yours, making him moan, and you took that as an answer. You hooked your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, silently asking him to take them off. And that’s exactly what he did, without thinking too much, he lifted his hips and slid everything in your way off of them. Your kisses became sloppier and deeper as your hand found its way to his cock again.

Cold fingers wrapped around his hot, throbbing friend. The skin-to-skin contact elicited a throaty groan from him.

He was thick. You could barely contain him as you slowly began to pump him, up and down, letting more precum wet his tip. You gently ran your thumb over his head to spread everything. His cock trembled in your hand, trying to escape the too intense feeling.

His fingers tightened on your hair and his lips stopped coordinating with yours. You smiled widely and synchronized your kisses with the movements of your hand. With your tongue, you collected all the moans that came out of him. Joel felt like he was in a trap that he didn't want to get out of. Your gentle kisses and touch were driving him to the limits of his self-control.

And any remaining control disappeared the moment you fell to your knees before him.

You settled comfortably between his thighs, licking your lips. Joel sighed at the sight and propped himself up on his hands, leaning back a bit to get a better view of the way a string of saliva flew out of your mouth. His cock didn't even have time to twitch at this feeling because his tip disappeared into your mouth.

“Oh fuck,” he inhaled loudly.

You didn't give him a chance to get used to your warm tongue before you swallowed him halfway. He winced at the sudden surge of pleasure and looked at you with his mouth parted. You began to work your head, taking him deeper with each pass.

You were determined to swallow him whole, despite what you were capable of. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do it, that you could do more for him than for others.

“That's right, baby,” he hissed through clenched teeth. Hearing the praise from his lips, you felt like you were capable of anything. And that's exactly what you did, swallowing him whole.

A loud moan bounced off the walls as your throat tightened around his tip. He thrust his hips, trying to go deeper, and you let him. You pressed your nose into his flesh, holding him completely in your mouth. Joel watched everything with delight. Every twitch of his cock causing your walls to tighten around him.

He tried to breathe calmly but he couldn't focus on anything except how wonderful it felt to feel your mouth on his dick. He preferred not to admit how many times he had seen this sight before his eyes when he masturbated. Now, when he was experiencing it firsthand, he felt like he was in heaven. His imagination couldn't even match up to how skillfully you drove him crazy.

You started to choke so you immediately pulled away from his crotch. A string of saliva was the only thing that connected you two as you raised a tearful gaze at him. Joel was breathing heavily as he stared at you with adoration. And even though he wanted to feel your lips around him again, he couldn't stop himself from feeling them on him again.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a hard kiss and covered your cheeks with his hands, forcing you to stand up. You didn't resist his movements, allowing him to pull you onto his lap. His cock throbbed, hitting your lower abdomen, causing another wave of arousal to start leaking out of you.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, deepening the kiss and allowing yourself a moment to play with his tongue. Joel was more than willing to let you do whatever you wanted to him. He gripped your ass tightly, earning a moan from you.

The hot ball inside you turned into a real fire between your thighs. The feeling was starting to overwhelm you, forcing quiet squeals out of you as you rubbed against his hard cock over and over again.

You needed to get rid of this feeling.

You needed to relieve yourself of the pain of arousal.

“Please, I want you inside me.”

Your silent plea didn't have to wait long for his answer. In one movement, he turned you over, letting you fall onto the soft mattress. You gasped when he suddenly pulled away from you and practically ripped your panties off. All the wetness smeared across the inside of your thighs but Joel was too busy to notice. He squeeze your panties in his hand, feeling the black material was completely soaked and shamelessly inhaled your scent.

Your pheromones awakened things in him he didn't know existed. Like in a frenzy, he hid your underwear in the pocket of his sweatpants and blindly threw his glasses on the table. He didn't really care that they probably broke when you writhed in anticipation on the bed in front of him.

"I've been waiting ages to find out what you taste like," he said, more to himself than to you, and grabbed you tightly by the hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. Your breath caught in your lungs as his hands began to roam your body in a possessive way and right under your shirt.

But when his face disappeared between your legs, you couldn't take the tension anymore and you threw your head back with a moan. Just the feeling of his breath and the knowledge of how close he was to your pussy was driving you crazy. He didn't have to do anything at all to make you writhe under him.

Every muscle in your body tensed as you felt him start to lick everything that smeared on your thigh. You began to pant heavily, feeling as he got closer to his goal with every second. Until finally, he planted the wettest, deepest kiss on your slit. You moaned loudly, arching your back at the overwhelming feeling. His tongue ran along the length of your pussy and with a growl of satisfaction, he sucked on your clit.

Instinctively, you clenched your fists tightly on the sheets and tried to move your hips out of his reach, but his hands on your waist effectively stopped your movements.

The sting of his beard perfectly matched his agile tongue. You were shocked at how quickly a familiar feeling began to gather in your lower abdomen. You couldn't remember the last time someone had brought you to such a state.

You didn't know what was causing it. The drugs that were still circulating in your blood, your desire for him or his amazing abilities. It was also possible that all of them at once made your legs tremble.

You wanted to scream, squeal, tell him to stop, tell him to continue. You couldn't decide but he made the decision for you, pulling away and depriving you of your orgasm. You opened your eyes, searching for him with your gaze and you wanted to beg him to come back to his place.

Seeing your gaze, a smirk appeared on his face. Having you in such a state made him feel like a god. He had already forgotten what it felt like to have such power over someone, to experience someone looking at you with such desire as you did for him when he took away your opportunity to come.

"You'll come with my cock inside you," he decided.

You blinked a few times and closed your mouth in shock. It was the first time you had witnessed such a change in his behavior and you had to admit that you liked him even more this way. You loved his gentle nature that surrounded you every day but his possessive version aroused a wild desire in you.

You wanted to dig your nails into his flesh until it bled and beg him to come inside you so hard and deep that you would see stars. But instead of saying that, you nodded, barely able to say a quiet 'okay'.

Your answer satisfied him.

Your submission satisfied him.

Holding his cock stiffly, he positioned himself between your legs. You felt him right at your entrance and you shuddered, clenching around nothing. Joel looked with satisfaction at the mess that you were. Disheveled hair, shiny eyes, his shirt that now revealed more than it covered.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispered affectionately at the sight of you.

Your breath caught in your throat when you locked eyes with him. But your eyes rolled back in an instant when his hands gripped your hips tightly and in one movement he pulled you to him, impaling you all the way on his cock. The cry that came out of you was the most animalistic sound he had ever heard. He shuddered with a moan feeling your tight pussy pulsating around him. He couldn't even experience this feeling in his dreams.

"I knew you'd be perfect," he gasped and slowly pulled out of you only to thrust hard back.

Another scream tore through your throat like fire but it didn't stop him from slowly setting the perfect pace for himself. The sound of flesh slapping flesh echoed through the room.

"Soaked, warm and tight."

He thrust harder and harder and you couldn't shake the feeling of him going so damn deep inside you. The arousal overshadowed the pain he was causing you. You weren't used to his cock. It was thicker and longer than the one you usually had inside you.

"Made especially for me," he growled, digging his fingers deeper into your hips.

You wrapped your hands around his wrists and dug your nails into them, silently begging for him to be more gentle.

You never expected someone like Joel to be so domineering in bed. In your fantasies, it was always you who was finishing him off, not him finishing you off.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” he panted, searching for your gaze until he finally found it, completely cock drunk. You winced as he thrust hard into you once again, not giving you a chance to catch your breath. He saw how bravely you were struggling with what he had given you, how you were trying to get used to his size. He felt you still clench around him tightly and if you could, you would rip his cock off. "To who?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows encouragingly.

For a guy his age, he held himself surprisingly well despite how fast he moved his hips, impaling you over and over again with his entire length.

"Toyoutoyoutoyou," you hissed in one breath and began to pant heavily, feeling the increasing tension in the muscles between your legs.

Joel smiled, pleased with the state he had brought you to, and pushed harder into you. That was the first time you saw stars and your lungs forgot how to breathe.

"You're right, to me," he nodded, leaning towards you. His hand slid under your shirt and after a moment it squeezed pleasantly painfully on your breast. You whimpered from the new stimulant that echoed off your clit. "And you know what I don't like?" he asked, teasing your nipple with his thumb, while slowing down the movements of his hips, entering you more passionately. "Sharing," he answered before his question even reached your consciousness.

Longer and longer moans accompanied every movement of his hips. His cock smoothly began to rub against that perfect spot in your pussy. You felt like crying from the pleasure that intensified the feeling of ecstasy inside you.

"Do you think your boyfriend will be happy when you tell him who's going to fuck you from now on?" he purred, rubbing his nose against your cheek. The scent of desperation filled his nostrils. You needed to come. You needed to be free from this burning feeling in your mind.

"What boyfriend?" you asked, overcome by the approaching fulfillment.

Joel smiled against your face and began to place wet kisses on your neck. You closed your eyes, tangling your fingers in his hair and fully surrendering yourself to everything he was giving you. His cock gently stimulated your cervix and the rest of his length created the perfect friction that drove you crazy. His hand sensually stroked your thigh and the other caressed your breast. This deadly combination quickly took away the last of your ability to think.

"Will you come for me, pretty girl?" he whispered, gently biting your skin. "Cum for me and let me fill you."

The only answer you were able to give him was a long moan as you reached your peak. You could dimly hear his praises and how proud he was of you. The feeling of euphoria spread through your body in strong waves, reaching the furthest corners of your body. Joel watched with fascination as the orgasm took over your body, the way you began to arch beneath him, the way you clenched your fingers tightly in his hair in need. This sight was something he feared he would never see again in his life. And yet, it was you lying beneath him, satisfied, overcome by pleasure.

The throbbing of your cunt and just you in yourself, drove him mad. Orgasm shook his body as if the last time he fucked was thirty years ago. The pleasure overpowered his ability to breathe. He froze, letting his cum fill you completely.

It felt like when he first discovered what his hand could do.

Overcome by the experience, he didn't even notice you watching him in silence, trying to calm your breathing. Your eyes sparkled as you stared at his tired face. You couldn't accept the fact that you had just experienced what you had dreamed of for a long time. And for the first time in a long time, you were just so fucking happy.

"Thank you," you whispered, placing your hands on his cheeks and lifting your head to connect your lips in a gentle kiss. Joel didn't resist even a second as he deepened the kiss, crushing you with his weight.

In that moment, you could admit that you forgot about the whole world. It was only him.

[targaryenluvs]

— SHARING IS CARING

pairings: clarisse la rue x aphrodite!daughter!reader, luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter!reader

summary: the whole camp believes you to be sunshine personified, everyones bestfriend. and being absolutely stunning as well as off limits unless they want your girlfriend breaking every bone in their body. but it seems a certain friend of yours can’t help his feelings for you, and your girlfriend?

warnings: i’ve gone mental, fluff, threatening, violence, protective clarisse, kinda naive reader ngl, luke is lovesick and is confused about his feelings, not proof read

a/n: basically the two of them agreeing to be with you and now you have attack dogs <3

if there was one thing everybody at camp half-blood could agree on, it was that they all loved you. even if they acted differently, the idea of hating you was practically foreign.

for as long as you could remember, even if it’d only been two years, you’d been there, it’d been your home. and for as long as you could remember, you’d been best friends with luke castellan. he was unbelievably helpful when you first arrived, shy and sweet but overtime you opened up to him.

of course you were nice to everybody, but to your friends you were on a whole other level. almost motherly in a sense, always concerned for their well-being, their health and them over all. luke was no exception, if anything, you cared for him the most. but that was before clarisse came along.

even if luke wouldn’t admit it, he liked the attention. for once someone was caring for him, going out of their way to help him. you were always right there when he needed you, and he’d gotten used to being by your side. whether at breakfast in the morning, or by the creek at night the two of you went out of your way to be together.

and over your time together he not only began to feel protective over you but also something else. it creeped up on him, yes, but it wasn’t all that surprising with you being the daughter of aphrodite.

he found himself wondering if you felt the same for him, or if you were indifferent. with developing feelings came changes of attitude, he found himself annoyed. not at you of course, never at you, but at himself. he felt as if he had a real friend, someone he trusted truly yet it was as if his own body was sabotaging him with feelings. he didn’t want it to change, your relationship, not wanting to risk what you had.

but then late at night he’d find himself daydreaming.

holding your hand when walking together, cutting up your pancakes for you, securing your armour himself, sitting closer to you by the campfire, your sweet eyes looking up at him everyday, filled with even more love than usual. maybe even staring down other campers, who for some reason, had the silly thought that they could make a pass at you.

he’d overheard one of the new girls talking about her own crush on a girl. luke hadn’t meant to, of course, but he was currently sitting on the shore, cleaning off his muddy helmet. she rambled on about the girl she liked, how she walked and talked, how she smiled, how she daydreamed. he felt his throat tighten at the words, it was as if his own crush was being described.

then, she began to talk about a certain daydream she loved having, the fight scenario. in which her crush was training and perhaps losing, the other person being a bit too harsh to the point where she herself had to step in and save her girl.

the idea of being a saviour.

he thought it was stupid, his head was telling him so. but his heart thought differently and he secretly agreed. the idea of saving you, your hands clinging onto his arms for safety, teary eyes and rows of praise and thanks from you. fucks sake, he wanted it.

he wanted you.

but again, your time together, and his plans to be with you were cut short, a certain ares girl beating him to the punch.

the irony was not lost on luke at all. the first time you’d gotten a sliver of niceness from clarisse was when the two of you were walking together from the strawberry fields, having picked a fresh bundle on account of mr d randomly asking for them.

“is there such a thing as strawberry alcohol? is he going to try and have someone make it for him?” you joked as the two of you made your trek to the big house. “maybe he’ll eat them and pretend their alcohol-infused grapes.” luke laughed as your eyebrows scrunched together, “you can do that?”

the two of you continued on, sneaking a few strawberries here and there, of which mr d had sworn he’d be able to tell if any were missing. jake lockly, a new boy, was hot on your tail. he was brash and arrogant, handsome yes, but his personality was more than enough to send a girl running. and he had his eyes set on you, the girl everyone seemed to love. he viewed you as nothing more than a challenge, you viewed him as a creep, “hey y/n. you’re looking good today.” jake whistled, a cat call.

now, you were nice, yes, but gods he made it hard. so you figured the best way to react was to not speak at all, a thumbs up was all the acknowledgment you were willing to give and not what he was willing to receive.

“don’t be like that, i know you wanna talk to me.”

his voice was closer this time having picked up his pace. “it’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk to you, and it’s pathetic that you keep trying.” luke was so close to dropping the basket, and dropping him. “oh yeah, pretty boy? why don’t you go pick some more strawberries.”

you frowned at the comment, pondering the meaning of it, “i picked strawberries, what’s wrong with that?” jake flashed a toothy grin your way, “nothing princess, keep walking, leave this to the men.” his hand grazed your back.

and jake ended up with his face in the floor, courtesy of clarisse, “touch her again and i’ll break every bone in your body.” jake clutched onto his abdomen as clarisse laughed, and so did luke. “at least you didn’t kill him.” luke chuckled, “is he okay?” your shoulders drooped looking at his crumpled body. “who cares? come on mr d is waiting.” luke grabbed your hand and gently led you along, unaware of clarisse following along.

she nabbed a strawberry from your basket as you gasped, “come on!” she didn’t respond, rather grinning before eating it. “how’s your day been?” you smiled at her niceness, “stuck with luke all day.” his eyebrows furrowed, “it’s never a bad day with me. don’t lie.”

and after that you found yourself running into clarisse more often, training together, even if it was more so her beating the shit out of someone, and you watching. you ended up being around her so often that your body quite literally gravitated to her. whether at breakfast or in lessons, the two of you were always hanging out. so it wasn’t a surprise to you when she asked you out, and you were more than happy to agree.

the only people that found it surprising, was every other person around.

obviously, during the early stages, you’d heard the whispers and seen the stares directed your way, but clarisse had shut them down pretty easily. a kid ended up puking into the same toilet bowl they’d been dunked into, a tamer version being someone’s matress torn apart, and a few not super serious injuries.

not life threatening.

but at the end of the day, all you could care about was her. her smile that was only really directed at you, the jewellery she obtained by suspicious circumstances, the sweet words and kisses were all you could ever ask for.

besides her, you also cared about him.

you’d felt as if the two of you had grown apart in the few months you’d been with clarisse, not necessarily either one of your choices, nor faults, but it was upsetting. even when you tried your hardest to seek him out around camp, it seemed he was always surrounded by people, teaching, leading, or just, not there.

you’d known him long enough to know he was evading.

luke hated it, how he felt. the idea of not being able to control himself, and how he acted was unbelievably annoying to him. not having you by his side, all the time, had him realising how often you were around him, he’d grown to rely on you. your presence, support, your face, friendship, gorgeous smile.

yeah, there were a lot of things he liked about you. he thought he only felt that way for you, but the weirdest combination of people seemed to double them. seeing you and clarisse around was common now, but the longing wasn’t.

you’d talked about your strained relationship over a million times to clarisse, and quite frankly she’d had enough, of course she didn’t mind listening to you talk but it was honestly driving her crazy. which is how she’d ended up with luke, in the middle of the night, sitting across from eachother, talking about you.

“she’s my girlfriend.”

“she was my bestfriend first.”

“so why didn’t you make a move?”

“i didn’t want to mess up our friendship. she… she’s my best friend, i didn’t want to drive her away.” clarisse leaned back on the bench, hands supporting her body, “so what now? you continue ignoring y/n, making her absolutely miserable since her bestfriend won’t even talk to her. or you tell her, and you guys aren’t friends anymore.” luke scoffed, “what makes you think we wouldn’t be friends anymore?” clarisse leaned forwards again, “well she wouldn’t have anything to say back to you, she’s with me.”

“well she would’ve been with me if i’d confessed.”

“but you didn’t, who’s fault is that luke? you were too scared to ask her out, and that’s not on me. talk to her, let her know, and we’ll see what happens.” clarisse rose from the table, but a thought in her head pulled her back. she turned back to see luke sitting at the table, even more gorgeous than usual, annoyingly so, the moonlight was a paid actress.

luke looked up and met clarisse’s eye, “what if.. what happens if she has feelings for both of us, now, at the same time?” she grinned, “you’re not an ugly face luke, i wouldn’t mind.” there were few times luke castellan didn’t know what to say, but he sat staring, feeling warmth arise in his face.

maybe they could come to terms with this, work something out amongst all of you. he swore you liked him back, when you were friends and single, and even now that you weren’t. the longing gazes you sent his way, the shy waves, as if on thin ice, testing the waters. why settle for one gorgeous girl, when you could have two?

after all, sharing is caring.

[allseeingdirt]

everytime i think about kath for too long especially when considering the wider picture im like. ngeremes plastik

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you write How would jacaerys, aemond, benjicot, and cregan court the reader? Thank youuu

Benjicot Blackwood was a kind man, a sweetheart to you, a lite awkward but he made it endearing and sweet.

Benjicot knew that there was only so much that his house could offer you in comparison to other houses, but he made sure that you were never alone as he was always by your side; providing you with his company all the while making you well versed with Raventree Hall and all it encompassed.

He treated you better then most men of the realm by treating you with respect and dignity which meant a lot more to you then meaningless expensive gifts of jewellery, as you knew that with Ben you’d be treated as a living breathing human, rather then be considered a possession out of duty.

Benjicot practically worshiped you and the ground you walked on. He was loyal to you and only you and he made that evident with how often he spoke about you in high regard as he stands by your side strong and firm like an oak tree. Benjicot would gladly go down fighting for you for your courting meant that much to him as he just wants to prove to you that he would forever be the better choice in suitor.

Which he is, he definitely is. He’s the perfect man and would treat you like you were the one sat upon the iron throne.

He’s probably the one to ask your father to court you before anyone else could get you before him, he’s determined to have you as his spouse but does it in the most sweetest and respectful way possible that would end up making you melt.

Benjicot didn’t need to be the richest man in Westeros to win you over because his words and his actions spoke louder than meaningless transactions of coin. He would defend you to his last breath while holding you in his arms as he kisses you.

Benjicot was like a warm fireplace as you burrowed your head into his neck, never having felt safer then you did in his arms as he whispered sweet honeyed words of how he’d protect and watch over you as you sleep.

The man would raise hell if you’d come to harm but that’s something you were made well aware of and had you finding safety in his arms faster then most.

Aemond Targaryen could be a possessive man when it came to courting you, such as blessing you with his gifts of jewellery that bore the same blue sapphire that was embedded into his face, a stark reminder to all who had your heart.

He trusts you, which was rarity on its own, but he didn’t trust everyone else. and so if he found out that someone was encroaching on what was his? Aemond would be quick to make an example of them during his training sessions, making sure that there would be enough eyes to witness the persons humiliation -yours included- as he effortlessly knocked them down within minutes.

Aemond expressed his interest in very unique ways and would bolster the fact that he rides the largest dragon in Westeros. -Reader and cannibal from my other series would scoff at this- along with how much safer you were with him, and he would tell you how he’d gladly set towns aflame if anything were to happen with you with a deadpan face.

He keeps a close eye on you that it’s borderline suffocating but at least you’ll have someone who’ll immediately know what you were feeling through sheer observation, where he’d take you aside and show a softer side to you as he asks you how he could help you feel better.

Aemond could be soft if he wanted but I think the biggest sign that he was certain he wanted to be with you and that’s by showing you his sapphire eye. He’s very much still insecure about it despite it being so long and so many things had happened since then but old scars tend to hurt in moments of nostalgia, and so when he showed you his sapphire eye, it means he takes your courtship seriously and hopes that you think the same.

Jacaerys Velaryon is the epitome of a gentleman.

His mother raised him well as he treated you as though you were the most precious person in his life, which you very much were.

He’d gladly wake up at weird times of night if you were ever in need of anything and he could do something about it, such as sneaking towards the kitchen on Dragonstone for lemon cakes or something to drink.

Anything your heart wanted, Jace would get it for you tenfold, no matter how far he’d have to go to get it. If it was for you then Jace would gladly fly to the far reaches of Westeros to get it.

Flights on Vermax were a common thing between you and Jace so much that Vermax was well acquainted with you and grew to love you, much to Jace’s relief. He loved it whether you held onto him as tightly as possible, even after he reassured you that no harm could come to you on Vermax, but he couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of you pressed up close against his back.

He’s quick to take up arms if anyone were to ever speak a threat towards you. No hesitation, he will fight on your behalf because he wouldn’t dare let anyone get away with saying such foul words against you.

‘Their words should mean little to you,’ he’d tell you as he holds your face in his hands, making sure that you were looking him directly in the eyes. ‘ for you are far more then what they say and I will not have you echo their words either, an insult on you might as well be an insult to me too.’ He then presses a kiss to your forehead. ‘I will not allow others to tear you down as you deserved to be lifted up.’

Jace is a man of his word and he’s never go back on it ever. He was loyal and honourable man who’d eyes never left yours as he awakes in the morning, ready to think of new ways to spoil you absolutely rotten.

Cregan Stark is another man who’d treat you far better than most in the realm.

He would most likely get you a Direwolf pup when he came across one mourning its dead mother, finding the star shape mark on its forehead interesting, before gently scooping it up and taking it home with him to bring to you.

You named the Direwolf Astarion.

Cregan would make sure you’d have the best equality furs possible to keep out the cold weather of Winterfell whether for your shared chamber or to wear outside the castle. He knew that the cold wasn’t for everybody and would much rather you be comfortable during your stay at what would possibly be your future home should your courting go well.

Cregan would probably gift you flowers that had adapted to surviving in the cold winter whenever he was out hunting.

‘For the most beautiful soul in the realm.’ He’d say as he handed them over to you, smiling as you took them in with a smile of your own. He’s truly a sap with you and you wouldn’t want it any other way as having a man as notoriously stoic and duty driven, but yet be so soft and carful of you was enough to get you weak on the knees.

He’s devoted to you and you alone and it showed in the softer moments you shared where he looked at you as though you were the muse for the most beautiful artwork in Westeros today. He could be quite clingy also but you weren’t complaining when you had a man as pretty as him keeping you against his chest, reminding you that his heart beats for you as he lists off many reasons he desires you.