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mimicmimikyuwrites · 6 months ago

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Who You Belong To - Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You and your professor share what could barely be called a relationship, but what's there is tricky and difficult to put a positive label on. When a fellow classmate successfully asks you on a date, Dr. Crane decides to make one thing clear: who you belong to.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Age Gap (Reader is in her early 20's, Crane's in his mid 30's), inclusion of original male character, student-professor relationship, unprotected sex, P in V sex, toxic relationship (?), creampie, semi-clothed sex, mentions of masturbation, degradation, semi-public sex (they fuck in an office), SMUT, MDNI

Other Notes: You can read part two here.

Some people say there's over four hundred estimated phobias, others say that number can be even higher at five hundred; no matter the number, you were sure Dr. Jonathan Crane knew every single one of them by heart. Your slightly off-putting psychology professor with a passion for fear and its workings shared a relationship with you that had breeched its professional expectations long ago. You couldn't tell what he was to you, exactly, but it certainly wasn't just your professor, not when he had been inside of you more times than either of you could count.

It wasn't uncommon for him to ask you to stay after class, leading into an invitation to his office before you found yourself bent over an expensive, wooden desk that had already been cleared off in expectation of you being pressed to it while you took him. Sometimes if he wanted to strike a bit of fear of getting caught into you, he'd fuck you right in the lecture hall, always letting you know how terrifying the consequences would be if someone else did something as simple as come back for a forgotten pen.

You may have been his favorite teacher's pet, but you were sure there were others. Jonathan was an attractive man who taught an already difficult class, it'd be no surprise to you if he had other women lined up for a chance to recieve a better grade from him in exchange for a little "extra- credit" assignment, as much as you hated to admit it to yourself. He was never yours to begin with.

"Care to tell me why you're staring down at your closed text book instead of listening to my lesson?" Your professor questioned, breaking you out of your thoughts. Shit, how had you gotten so immersed in your little daydream that you had forgotten you were in class? You could feel the sympathetic stares of your peers burning into you as Crane loomed over you, a gleam of mischievous satisfaction in his blue eyes. You didn't respond.

"Stay after class," He said plainly, heading back to the front of the room. He'd still ask you to stay back regardless of how things went, the little show he had made out of you was his way of toying with you in just the way he liked. It was more of a tease at this point, you weren't scared, not of him. Still, you shrunk back into your seat in faux embarrassment to entertain him.

"To those who were paying attention, unlike a certain someone," he paused, gaze drifting over to you as he quickly took in the sight of what you were wearing.

While it was nothing out of the ordinary for you, you did choose to wear a skirt today, a favorite of his to see on you. How easy would it be for him to pull it up, bunching the fabric over your hips so be could get acess to what he was really after? He also took note of your gloss-covered lips, mind drifting onto how great they'd look wrapped around his cock or wide open as you moaned for him. He shifted, moving to be further behind his desk as he felt his pants tighten. He would wreck you after everyone was gone.

"You have a test on the topic of agoraphobia this upcoming Monday; today is Friday, which means you have the weekend to review the notes, which I hope you've been taking, for your own sake." He continued. "You're all free to go, except who I've already asked to stay." He really wouldn't stop rubbing that in, would he? Maybe he was trying to rile you up to make your usual "meeting" more exciting today.

As your classmates rose, you stayed seated, putting your stuff into your bag as you did. It was all routine, except for the man who had approached you before making his way out. He stood over you with a friendly smile, one that you had to admit made him look handsome. He didn't look too different from Dr. Crane in terms of basic features; dark hair and cornflower blue eyes. He was your type on the level of looks.

"Hey, I'm Ryan," He introduced himself, friendly smile remaining on his face. "I heard that you're pretty good in this class, making straight A's. I was wondering if you could help me study this weekend if you're free? Maybe we could grab a cup of coffee, too?" You looked over to where Dr. Crane was standing, the man in question observing your interaction from his desk, making it subtle by acting like he was sorting through papers.

You and your professor weren't exclusive, and if he had others lined up and waiting for him, then you could, too; it'd only be fair. Your classmate wanted to study and get coffee? He'd get what he wanted and more. "Sure! I'm free tommorrow at twelve if that works out for you," You finally replied, smiling up at Ryan. You had just met the guy and he was already doing something that Crane never did: asking you out on a date.

Ryan grinned, grabbing a notebook out of his bag and ripping out a piece of paper, writing his number on it before handing it to you. "I'll see you then!" He exclaimed happily before waving goodbye and leaving. After he had left, you stood up, pulling your bag over your shoulder before you made your way to where Jonathan was at the front of the lecture hall. He did ask you to stay after class.

"Throw it away," Crane stated plainly, moving the small, paper-filled trashcan that was under his desk to be in front of you. You looked down, not realizing you still had the slip of paper with Ryan's number on it in your hand.

"Do you even know what it is?" You retorted, shoving the paper into your bag.

"He gave you his number. You don't need the number of someone you turned down," He responded, moving the trashcan even closer to you. "Throw it away." He repeated.

"Except I didn't turn him down." You replied, watching his brows furrow in a mix of confusion, and then annoyance once your words sunk in. "We're not exclusive, you and I, are we?" Part of you hoped he'd prove you wrong, telling you that he was yours and you were his, while another part of you wanted to tell him 'fuck you" to his face. How many simultaneously lucky and unlucky women did he have waiting for him? Many, you were sure of it.

"I'm sure you have someone else in another one of your classes that you can spend your evening with, Dr. Crane." You smiled, trying to ignore the growing pain in your heart. "If you can have others, then it's only fair that I can as well."

"What makes you think that I have others?" He inquired, looking up at you with curious, blue eyes. "Do you think I'm the type of man to give out straight A's in my class in exchange for a fling or two? I don't even up your grades, darling." He chuckled lightly.

You rolled your eyes. He had to be lying to you... right? Were you really the only one and he just didn't see you as more than someone to have sex with? You didn't know what idea hurt you more, but the end result was the same: you meant little to him, and your body was all he wanted.

"I'll see you on Monday, professor." You mumbled out, feeling defeated. You already knew why he had asked you to stay after class, but the thought of him touching you while he wanted nothing more than just sex sickened you. What did you expect? That's all things had ever been. You shouldn't have caught feelings.

He watched you leave, letting out a long sigh once you were gone. You had always been a pain in his ass, but not one he'd ever get rid of.

Saturday at Twelve left just as quickly as it had come, and before you knew it, not only had you had your date, but you were also back in your Psychology class on Monday, a test on agoraphobia in front of you. Being nearly sixty questions long, it was intimidating to look at, even more so when the majority of questions were statistic-based. You were far from worried, however, having studied the topic extensively over the past few weeks.

Any confidence you had left you once you received your score later that same class period. You had failed by a large margin, the bright red ink in the corner shamefully exclaiming '34%' seeming to mock you as you stared back at it. You had yet to fail any assignment in your Psychology course, let alone one on such a common fear as agoraphobia. Your professor did this on purpose.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Crane asked, not bothering to look up as he shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk. You placed your failed test in front of the man, an angry frown on your face as you did so.

"Did you intentionally fail me because I went out on a date this weekend, you prick?!" He finally glanced up at you, his neutral expression not faltering a bit despite your obvious discontent. Then, he stood up, making his way over to his office door in the corner of the room.

"Come on, let's take this to my office so you can shout at me without embarrassing yourself as easily." The condescension in his voice only served to upset you further, much to his sadistic delight. You were the first one inside, Jonathan making sure to lock the door behind you. Before you could even open up your mouth to yell at him once more, he spoke.

"Did it feel good?" He asked nonchalantly, catching you off guard.

"What? What are you—"

"Did it feel good when he fucked you?" He finished, watching calmly as your eyes widened in shock. "You have a hickey on your neck under all that makeup you used to try and hide it. You've done the same to the ones I've given you in the past. It's just barely noticeable."

He stepped forward, closing in on you like a hungry animal would their prey, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Did it feel good? Did he manage to fuck you better than I ever could?" His arm wrapped around you, a hand placing itself on the small of your back as he leaned into you. "Or did he leave you wanting more? Did you go home and grab that vibrator of yours, just wishing it was me that had been the one with you while you were forced to make yourself cum, because he couldn't?"

He moved, lifting you up so he could sit you on the desk. Of course, like always, it was cleared off ahead of time in anticipation of your visit.

"Maybe I need to show you who you belong to, hmm?" His hands moved down under your skirt, one resting on your inner thigh while the other gave an experimental touch to your clothed sex. You were already wet, your arousal felt through the thin cotton of your panties. "Soaking already, my dear? He must've left you worse off than I imagined." Jonathan purred.

"H-He barely touched me," You stuttered out, feeling Crane tug your underwear to the side, his deft fingers finding your clit. "All we did was make out." You let out a soft moan as he began slowly rubbing at the sensitive bud.

"I don't believe you." His hands left you, beginning to undo his belt. The prominent tent in his black slacks let you know just what was in store for you; he was starving for you. "Not when you admitted you let him touch what's mine." He continued, motioning for you to take your soaked panties off.

"What's yours?" You breathed out, slipping off the clothing in question, letting it fall to the ground below.

"You need to know who you belong to." He stated, pulling his cock out; hard and leaking pre-cum at the tip. Your pussy grew even wetter at the sight. You spread your legs on instinct as he came in closer, putting himself in between them, a hand resting on your hip while the other lined himself up with your eager cunt, the head of his cock teasing your entrance.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked staring into your eyes with his half-lidded, sultry ones swimming with lust and need. "Answer me correctly and I'll be nice and give you what you want."

"You. I belong to you. Dr. Jonathan Cra— oh, fuck!" You gasped out, feeling him thrust into you without warning. He set a quick, almost animalistic pace, wasting no time; not when he needed you so much. Every drag of his thick cock inside of your desperate cunt sent pleasure coursing through you.

"I bet he didn't fuck you as good as this," he groaned, a tight grip on your hips as he slammed into you, the lewd sounds of your shared pleasure filling the small space of his office. It had only been a few days since he had last fucked you, but with the way you were already trembling beneath him it felt like it had been months.

"You're the best I've —Oh!— ever had!" You managed to get out between your moans. It was true, too. Out of every man you'd ever been with, no man had made you feel as good as Jonathan did. "Harder– baby, please!" You begged, gripping the edge of the desk like your life depended on it.

"Look at you, begging like a slut," He growled, pounding into you even harder. "That's okay, darling. You're my little slut. Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin." He let out a loud groan as your pussy clamped down on him at the sound of his words. "Oh? Does that turn you on? The thought of me ruining you? Trust me, you're not going to want a single person other than me after I'm done with you, darling." You pulled him down, dragging him into a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue moved against his, just like you were made for each other.

"I love you," you whimpered out, feeling him nip at your neck. "Please— I want to be all yours. Only yours." You pleaded, your mind too clouded with the intense pleasure rocking through your body to fully process the potential impact of what you had just confessed.

"You already are." He responded, hips snapping against yours as he lost his rhythm. "I love you, too. I don't care what trouble I'll get into for what we've done. I don't care if I lose my job, as long as you're with me at the end of it all."

That sent you over the edge, along with the tip of his cock grazing your sweet spot. You came around him, your orgasm crashing over you as your legs shook with the force of it all. He spilled into you not long after, thick, warm cum shooting deep inside you and leaking out to drip down your thighs as he let out a long, loud groan of ecstasy.

You slumped back against the desk, feeling the cold wood against your warm, hot skin. Jonathan buried his head into the crook of your neck, pressing soft, chaste kisses to it as you both came down from your orgasmic highs. You stayed like that for a long moment until both of you calmed down, a blissful exhaustion filling you.

"There's a new restaurant that opened up in the town center," he smiled, caressing your cheek. "I hear it has some of the best Chicken Alfredo the city has to offer. Good wine, too."

You chuckled tiredly, not catching on to his offer. "You fucked me silly just so you could tell me about some Italian place?"

"I'm sure it's a better first date than whatever that guy got you," He said, letting out a chuckle of his own. "I'm free later tonight if that's not too short notice."

Your eyes shot open as the realization set in. "Wait— You're asking me out? What if someone from the University sees us, Jonathan? You could get—" He cut you off with a short, sweet kiss.

"Arkham always needs new doctors, darling. There's never a shortage of the need for psychiatrists. I'm tired of grading papers, anyway." He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. "You heard what I said earlier, didn't you? I love you. You belong to me."

You had finally learned who you belonged to, and you couldn't have been happier.

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littlemissmiller · 9 months ago

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𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔

Pairing: javier peña x fem!reader

Summary: Javier is your partner while on assignment in Bogotá. You can’t seem to resist him, as much as you tell yourself you’re done fooling around with him. One night, he comes home and the next morning, you finally realize your true feelings for him…

Warning: 21+ (drinking and smoking), semi-rough sex, ass slapping, slight power play, dom!javier, sub!reader, oral(m and f receiving), partners/friends to lovers

Word count: 3.8k

A/N: surprise! it’s pedro! i hope y’all enjoy this just as much as the tom fics (which i appreciate all the support once again, exceeded my expectations). I had this one in the vault for a while, but just went back and edited it so here it is! i have another billy and coryo fic in the works, but a girl has got to diversify her blog page no? also i do plan to post more pedro stuff (given my blog name 😅)ok enjoy! ❤︎

☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎

“This is the last time Javier.” You panted as Javier Peña pushed you up against the wall of a small janitor’s closet. A frequent place you had found yourself in once again, fucking like teenagers. Everyone had left the office nearly, but you still didn’t want to get caught.

“Yeah you said that last time sweetheart.” He growled into your ear as he readjusted you, hoisting you up further onto the wall. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and he was fucking up into you. His pants were only down far enough to let his cock out and he continued to push your tight pencil skirt up over your thighs and hips. You moaned into his ear which caused him to pick up his pace.

“I mean it we…we can’t keep doing this.” You moaned as his lips attached to your neck. He smirked and looked back up at you. His hand slithered up your throat and cupped under your chin.

“Really? Is that why you decided to wear this tight little skirt today? To get me to stop?” He panted

“I always wear these…” you lied

“Yeah well what about this blouse then hmm.” His hand slid down your throat to tug on your collar and then slipped inside your blouse to cup your breast.

“You know I can see right through it don’t you?”

“Maybe I was trying to get someone else’s attention…”you croaked out

“Mmm I don’t think so sweetheart. I know other people are looking but they wouldn’t dare to touch you.” He replied

“Why is that?”

“You know why…” he breathed into your ear “because you’re mine…” he picked up his pace and soon enough you were both coming undone.

He held you in place for a while and rested his forehead against yours. You both panted in exhaustion, your breathing in sync. He planted a soft kiss on your cheek before pulling out and setting you back on your feet.

“You should grab a drink with me tonight.” He suggested as he stepped back, readjusting himself, stuffing his cock back into his jeans and buckling his belt.

“Javi…” you sighed, shaking your head and smirking as you buttoned up your blouse “you know my rules…”

Ever since you and Javier started hooking up, you were very explicit about how your relationship would be. You had told him you weren’t looking for a relationship, but he convinced you to be “partners with benefits”.

Your rules were clear. No going out to bars or dinner, no flirting in front of your colleagues, and nothing more than just sex. Those were the rules left anyways. Javier had a way of convincing you to break them. At first, you had told him no hooking up at work, but about two weeks later and one too many tight dresses, you had broken that rule. And the rule not to show physical affection to each other outside of your activities. He couldn’t seem to help himself around you. He would always wait until no one was around, but occasionally he’d plant a kiss on your cheek or come up behind you and plant one on the back of your neck. It would usually turn into more, but occasionally it was just in passing and very quick.

“C’mon we can go as just co-workers. Then it’s not a date”

You looked up at him and rolled your eyes. You slipped your heels back on and started to fix your hair.

“You know what I told you. I’m not looking for a relationship, especially not with you.” You looked at him pointedly and he frowned “besides if you and I get together who else is going to fuck the hookers Escobar likes the have around.” You have joked raising my eyebrow

He rolled his eyes.

“They are informants and I get very useful information from them”

“Oh besides how they like it” you smirked reaching for the door

Javier stopped you. His hand wrapped around your wrist. He looked at you and you looked back at him intensely, snapping your head in surprise and confusion.

“Are you jealous or something?” He asked

“No!” You laughed “besides we get good intel like you said.”

He released your wrist and grunted in agreement. He traced his hand over your own, moving it from your wrist to your finger tip. He moved his fingers around your palm and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

“You should still get a drink with me though” he insisted, continuing to stroke your hand. “Hmm…what do you say? He kissed your knuckles this time, which took you off guard but it wasn’t unwelcomed.

A part of you had put these rules in place mainly for yourself. You knew getting tangled up with Javier like this would be trouble and quite frankly a distraction. Maybe you needed a distraction, but with your own partner? Would that really happen? Maybe because you also knew, in the back of your mind, you had deeper feelings at play. You thought about it and, in that moment, you realized you were about to break one of your own rules again.

“Fine.” You started, dropping your hand to your side “just as co-workers thought. This is not a date or anything like a date.”

“Fine by me. Whatever you wanna call it.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You opened the janitors closet and poked your head out. You looked around and stepped out. Javier followed after you.

“Let’s get going. And separate cars.” You commanded, looking at him seriously

“I figured.”

“Where are we meeting?” You asked

“That bar near your place. The one on the corner next to your apartment.” You answered

Of course he chose somewhere near your place. You thought he was gonna try and take you home with him after. Back to his place. You were wrong. You and him met at the bar and, what ended up being one drink became three, then a cigarette, and your night was pretty much set.

“This ain’t too bad hmm?” He asked

“I don’t mind getting a drink with you Javier. Just the principle of it I…struggle with”

He smirked at your answer “Is that so?” He slid his hand onto your knee which made you almost choke on the beer you were sipping on.

“Javi!” You gritted though my teeth in a low tone

“You said no flirting in front of co-workers or at work. Nothing about outside of work.” He smirked.

“I hope you understand that you’re not coming home with me tonight.” You remark pointedly

“Oh really why is that?” He asked rubbing my thigh

“Because we are just getting a drink as co-workers. Remember.”

Javier leaned back with a satisfied smirk on his face and downed his whiskey.

“You’re at least gonna let me walk you home?”

“It’s just around the corner.” You reminded him

“So?” He asked

“I’ll be fine, but I have feeling you’d follow me anyways” you joked

“You think I’m too overprotective of you?”

“Sometimes….” You looked at him and he looked at you not with lust but something else. A deeper longing and you knew in that moment what you had suspected for a while. Javier Peña seemed to have fallen for you.

He ended up walking you home and you begrudgingly let him in for “just one more drink” and soon after you found yourself back home with him, although you didn’t actually have sex. The two of you drank whiskey and just talked. Something you rarely found time to do. Simply connect with each other. You both sat on the couch, Javier took the liberty of your closeness to occasionally caress your thigh or play with your hair. It was simple, yet incredibly intimate. You and him eventually moved to your bedroom, where you cuddled up on him. Neither of you talked much after that. You simply lost yourself in that moment with him. You felt complete and your heart felt full. You slowly faded into sleep against him and without realizing it he had kissed your forehead several times after you had fallen asleep until he too drifted off.

When you woke up the next morning Javier was still asleep, sleeping on his stomach. You watched his back muscles as they rose and fell. He breathed heavily and you tangled your fingers loosely in his hair to try and wake him up. He kept sleeping, so you decided to take a shower. As the warm water poured over your head you thought about the way he looked at you the night before. His big brown doughy eyes that looked at you like a puppy dog. His hand on your leg, fingers playing with your hair and his charming smile. And the way you held each other until you both fell asleep. You realized that you liked him too. You had been resisting him and the idea of you two together. Especially given that you weren’t too sure how the DEA would feel about you and him having a relationship.

Would you not be able to work together catching Escobar worse get fired? You didn’t want to lose everything at work just to be with him, but you also couldn’t help but feel this way for him. Your thoughts are disrupted when you hear the shower curtain being pushed back. Javier stepped in behind you and came close, pressing his chest against your back. You kept your eyes closed as he wrapped his hands around your waist. He started placing light kisses on your neck and you reached up behind to cup his face. You could feel his cock getting hard on your ass and you reached down to stroke him. He groaned into your ear as he cupped your breasts.

“Mind if I stay?” He whispered

You spun in his arms and looked into his eyes. That same loving look from last night appeared on his face and you knew that he definitely had feelings for you too. There was no turning back now. For either of you. So you accepted that you were also in love with him and leaned into kiss him. It was passionate, with full force. He pushed your back against the shower wall, cupped your face with one hand while the other was planted on the wall beside your head. You moved up against him and moved your leg slowly up to his waist. He dropped his hand and immediately groped your thigh.

“Wanna stay in here or take this back to the bed?” He asked

“I don’t think we’ve ever done it in the shower before” you remarked

“We haven’t” he smirked

You reached back down the stroke his cock and smiled at him.

“Well Agent Peña…” you said as you continued touching him. “What do you want?”

His hands traveled along your body and settled on your waist. He spun you back around and pushed you back up against the shower wall, grabbing your wrists and holding them behind your back. You let out a breathy moan. You knew calling Javier “Agent Peña” turns him on. And you knew that it could make him go from the sweet man you cared about you so much, into a man hungry with lust. It makes him want to be in charge.

“I want you. And I suggest you behave. Got it?”

You moaned in agreement and nodded. He slapped your ass and tightened his grip around your wrists.

“Words sweetheart…”

“Yes sir…I’ll…I’ll be good” you reply somewhat begrudgingly.

Javier and you had this game sometimes when hooking up. You knew whenever you called him by his formal title, he was going to want to ravish you And you liked to give into him sometimes. Pretend you were a suspect or one of Escobar’s whores. It excited you, in a way you didn’t even know was possible. Makes you feel on edge and you like the anticipation that had control over you. Sex with Javier was usually always good, but when he was trying to find out where the next shipment was going to come in or where Escobar was going to be next he definitely had a few tricks up his sleeve. A few tricks to get girls to talk in bed.

Then he spun you back around as he grabbed your ass again. He rubbed his hand over it and slid it down in between your thighs. His fingers started rubbing your folds and you started melting up against the wall. Letting go of your wrists, he held you closer to him so your back was against his chest. He started pinching and twisting your nipples with his free hand. You let out a series of moans and whines. The hand in between your thigh snaked up and began to rub your clit. His fingers traced over it before pressing down and rubbing in a tight circle. You moaned and arched your back. He moved his hand across your sternum and pushed your back against his chest.

“Don’t move too much sweetheart” Javier demanded. “Just stay right here”

You held onto his biceps now that both of your hands were free. Your legs were shaking and everything around you was going fuzzy.

“Goddamn Peña you make me feel so good.” You whined

“I bet if you were actually one of Escobars girls I’d get information out of you real easy.”

You let out a mix between a moan and a laugh

“You flatter yourself Agent Peña”

With that he pushed you up against the shower wall some more you steadied yourself with your hands. You gasped in surprise at his sudden dominance. He pushed your legs open slightly, his hand grabbing the insides of your thighs. Then you felt the tip of his cock push into you and gasped.

“Would you tell me now?” He asked nipping on my ear lobe

“You’re going to have to do more than that to get anything out of me”

With that he pushed all the way inside you. He felt so full, so big. You couldn’t help but let out a long, staggering moan, but you weren’t about to say anything to him, about how good it felt. Not even say his name. It’s what he was trying to get out of you in this little game of yours. He started pumping in and out of you slowly at first, but he soon picked up his pace. You only let out a few soft moans as he worked his hips against your ass. You weren’t going to let him win that quickly, yet the pleasure was agonizingly good. He started pounding into you and you could barely contain your whimpers. His hand came down and sharply landed on your ass. He smacked it again and again. Each time you couldn’t help but let him hear you.

“Got more to tell me sweetheart?”

You shook your head and he growled into your ear

“C’mon now I know you wanna talk to me. At least tell me how good it feels”

You didn’t reply and he smacked your ass one last time. He pulled out abruptly, spun you around and turned the water off.

“I know what will make you talk…” he smirked

You stared up at him doe eyed, somewhat confused and scared and somewhat in anticipation. He pulled the curtain back then scooped you up into his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck and legs dangling from the crook of his elbow. He held your naked body against his tightly and walked back into your bedroom. He threw you down on the bed and you let out a slight yelp. He crawled on top of you and started kissing you again.

“If you won’t talk to me from me fucking you…then I guess I’ll just torture you with my tongue.” He whispered

He worked his way down your entire body, kissing every inch slowly. He was methodically in his actions. Kissing, sucking, and nipping on your flesh like an animal that just caught its prey. He slowly reached your core and began teasing the inside of your thigh with his lips and tongue. Your hand moved down to grab his head and move him where you wanted. He bit down on your thigh, giving it a hard slap, and looked up at you.

“If you want me somewhere specific you’re gonna have to use your words.”

You groaned in response

You watched him as he went back to teasing you. His mouth drew closer and closer to your clit, until finally. Your hips bucked up in his face slightly as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. He held you down and started really going for it. He ate you out like he was starving for you. Javier lapped you up, sucking and teasing your core. His tongue was relentless and kept bringing you closer and closer to the edge. He could sense it too. So he kept you on edge for a while. Javier pulled back, gawking at you as your eyes and pouty lips silently begged him to return his mouth to your slit. He slowly rubbed you as he admired you. He stroked himself with his free hand and bent back down to kiss your thighs.

You squirmed when his lips touched your skin again, so desperate to cum for him. Javier kissed your clit again, his soft affectionate demeanor driving you crazy. You wanted to cry out, but you held back, still remembering that he’s trying to coax you into telling him how good he makes you feel. How bad you crave him. Javier made eye contact with you as he tasted you, his tongue delicately danced over your folds. You bit down on your lip hard, eyes never leaving his. He pulled back again, catching his breath. He rubbed your clit again as he looked at you.

“C’mon baby. Why don’t you tell me how good it feels hmm? C’mon let me hear you.” Javier nearly begged but you just shook your head. His face changed as he scoffed at you.

“Fine. Gonna be a stubborn little thing hmm? Two can play at that game.” He said, removing his fingers. You buck your hips up at the loss of his hand, your face scrunched up disappointment. He sat up on his knees and beckoned you to him. You crawled forward, eyes never leaving his. With his cock in one hand, he stroked the side of your face

“Well if you're not going to speak, then maybe you can use your mouth in a different way hmm?” He suggested. He cups your face and draws you close to his crotch.

You opened your sweet little mouth, and he traced your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. You opened and took him into your mouth. He was so big, and you could feel the tip as it prodded the back of your throat. You gagged slightly and he cooed at you. He pumped into you, loving the way your lips became fat and plumb. He held the back of your head and he continued moving his hips. Javier tilts his head back in bliss, his grip getting slightly tighter in your hair. He looks down for a moment, reaching for your ass and giving it a firm squeeze.

“Fuck that’s good.” He quipped. He looked back down at your mouth then back up at your ass. He ran his hand in-between your cheeks and started to rub your slick folds. His actions caught you off guard and you popped your mouth off his length. You moaned and gasped as your legs started to give out.

“Oh there she is. Can’t help it now hmm? Come on, tell me how good it feels.”

You held back for as long as possible, biting down hard on your bottom lip until you can’t help it anymore.

“Mmm mmm ooh fuck Javi fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..” you finally cried out, your legs shaking uncontrollably. You duck your head down, face against the mattress as Javier made you cum. You convulsed on his hand. He smiled, his satisfaction ever so apparent.

“Thaaaats it. Oh fuuuck, you’re so pretty baby. So pretty cumming for me like this” he moaned

You stared back up at him, eyes slightly wet and glossy from having him down your throat. With a finger under your chin, he guided your lips back up to his. As he kissed you, he gently pushed you back on your back and you spread your legs for him. He wanted to tease you still, catching you while you're still a babbling mess. He rubs your clit as he pushes himself inside you. It was overwhelming at first, and you clenched around his cock.

“Javi…I-I oh fuck your gonna make me cum again” you squealed

“Good. Tell me who makes you feel good hmm?”

“Y-you Javier ok. You win you win you win, I fuck, I-I…”

“Go on. Say it. Say it to me.”

“I want you. Not just, not just like hooking up…I want all of you please…please…”

The admission stumbled out of you and you almost regretted it as you said it but Javier simply smiled. As he pumped into, he leaned down and kissed you

“Ohh I want you too. I have for a while.”

His passion overtook him and he sped up his hips. He was practically possessed, letting his brain go numb as he continued to drill into you. Your fucked out face gawked at him, continuously looking at his face and then at the place where his cock had entered you. The feeling of pleasure consumed you, he felt so full and deep in you. You never wanted this to end and neither did he. Javier kissed you frantically, savoring you.

“That’s all I really wanted this whole time. To know you wanted me too.” He whispered

You nodded and he pumped into you more deliberately.

“Christ baby you feel so good. Not gonna last much longer.”

Mhmm go on. Fill me up. Fuck pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease…” you beg over and over again until he came. His cum spilled into you, feeling warm and filling. He took a moment to catch his breath, kissing all over your face as he did.

“Mmm Javier, we’re going to be in so much trouble…” you muffled as he kissed you

“You really think…” he kissed you “that we should worry about that” he kissed you again “right now. In this moment”

You sighed against him and shook your head

“I hope you have a plan for figuring this out.”

“You know I’ll figure it out baby.” He smiled cockily

He cupped your face and continued to kiss you over and over again. You slowly melted into his touch and so did your anxiety. At that moment you didn’t care. You had him, as much as you had tried to resist him, you wanted him and now, now you had him.

꧁✹❂✹꧂

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norman-fucking-reedus · 8 months ago

Note

BEGGING ON MY KNEES FOR CORRUPTION KINK WITH DARYL YOU WRITE SMUT SO HEAVENLY😫😫😫

SWEET LITTLE SINNER

THE YUMMY STUFF: Age gap, (Daryl is in his late 50s, Reader in her early 30s) Creampies, breeding kink, fingering, bit of cockwarming, just smutty stuff, ...petnames 😇, semi-public?? guys they fuck in the church, virgin fem!reader, religious!reader, dont cancel me for this, but religion kink

DO NOT READ IF YOU THINK YOU'LL FEEL OFFENDED BECAUSE HOW YOU FEEL IS NOT MY PROBLEM

OKAY ANON I KNOW IM ANSWERING THIS REQ MONTHS LATER BUT BEAR WITH ME ALRIGHT 🎀

Im playing around with a new posting format and I honestly really like it so far! Im just literal dogshit at summaries so I don't necessarily bother with them (I mean at least I try) but eeeerm guys let me know if its cutie AND PLEASE LOOK AT MY BLOG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I CHANGED THAT TOO

So after scrolling through the mounds of unanswered asks I have, I found this one and it reminded me of a conversation I had with my sister abt Daryl x a Christian girl who holds herself very high to her faith and has a deeper understanding of the bible

This takes place around the time they find gabriel, and somehow this ended up being a !greene reader, I also had to extend the church for... purposes :3

Believe it or not this is my first time ever writing corruption kink 😭 I got this request back when I was still fresh on tumblr and its been sitting ever since because I just didn’t know what to do (and I still dont)

southern gothic has me in a chokehold and I cant breathe

"Come on! Fight to the fence!" The sound of Rick's voice bellowed over the deafening clang of metal and ringing gunfire, rapidly taking down any walkers that shuffled within range as the men helped the women to climb over the fence first, Carl dropping down and catching all the weapons that were tossed onto the safe side.

Rosita crawled up the chain fence quickly, noticing that you were behind her when she was balanced right on top and extending a hand out to you. "Up and over" She lightly yet urgently joked, and you could only let out a small huff of air as you grasped her hand, and hauled yourself upwards, swinging a leg over to join her in scaling down the other side.

"Let's go! Move your asses!" Abraham shouted as he fired his gun, covering Rick as he made a break for the fence, the redhead man not far behind once the walkers had started to herd up. He threw the firearm over the fence and easily jumped onto half the fence, using a walker's head as a boost to fling himself over onto the other side.

As you and the others hastily gathered your belongings, no one dared to look back at the remnants of Terminus, trying to stay together as you all ran for a safe place behind Rick, expecting that he had some kind of miracle up his sleeve and would find a place to hunker down for a few hours, days even.

Despite the chaos and the destruction that surrounded you, you and the rest of the group hastily gathered your belongings, not daring to look back at the ruins of Terminus. Trying to stay as closely together as possible, you all followed Rick's lead as he dashed through the trees. He was the one who had kept the group alive for so long, and everyone was hoping that he could do it for just a little while longer.

After what felt like forever, you could feel the intense heat seeping into your skin and making your clothes stick to your body. Every step you took felt like a burden, with the fabric rubbing against your flesh. The air was thick with humidity, and you could feel the moisture clinging to your skin, making you feel sticky and uncomfortable. You glanced around at the other people around you, all of them appeared to be struggling in the heat, with their foreheads glistening with sweat and their breathing labored.

As you looked over at Daryl, you couldn't help but notice the solemn expression on his face as he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. It was clear that he had been struggling to come to terms with Carol's sudden disappearance, and had been much more withdrawn and reserved than usual. He seemed to be lost in thought, lost in his own world, and it was hard to know how to reach out to him.

"Right here," Rick spoke as he brought the group out to a small clearing that was surrounded by trees, briefly scanning the area before crouching down in the dirt and beginning to frantically dig.

Abraham scoffed, "Tha' hell are we still around here for?" taking a few steps forward as he analyzed and addressed Rick, watching the man pull out a blue duffel bag.

"Guns. Some supplies," He said bluntly, pulling the black zipper back and further exposing the bag's contents, multiple guns, and other hand-held weapons. "We go along the fences, use the rifles, and take out the rest of 'em."

"What?" Glenn gawked, staring at Rick in disbelief as he listened to the words spewing out his mouth, bouncing around uncomfortably in his head.

Rick started to pull out the variety of weapons one by one, not once turning to meet Glenn's gaze. "They don't get to live."

The latter pursed his lips and huffed, stepping closer to Rick as to get his attention. "Rick, we got out. It's over."

"It's not over till they're all dead." Rick growled, shaking his head.

"They are dead. That place is on fucking fire, crawling with walkers in every which way." Rosita spat, laughing in annoyance at Rick's stupidity.

You shake your head as Rick continued to pull items out of the bag, "We got lucky back there," you said, voice low and trembling. "It's not worth risking our lives by going back in" your eyes meeting Rick's in a plea for him to understand. "God doesn't always give us a second chance. Just play the hand you were dealt" The thought of going back into that walker-infested place made your skin crawl, and you couldn't understand why Rick was wasting his time.

"Does he think he could give me one?" A familiar voice spoke softly from behind your group, faces lighting up in surprise and joy as Carol lightly stepped through the forest, appearing from behind a tree with her signature smile tugging at her lips, stretching all the way up to her ears when all of Daryl's weight barreled into her frame, almost knocking her straight onto her ass with a shocked laugh.

Her unexpected appearance managed to lift the once extremely heavy atmosphere, now bright and bubbly as it was filled with smiles.

"Did you do that?" Rick questioned once it was his turn to hug Carol, not getting a verbal response but the cheeky smile painting her blood-covered face was more than telling. However, it didn't last long once she scanned over the entirety of the group. "You have to come with me."

Carol led the group through the forest and down the train tracks until reaching a small cabin hidden in the trees where Tyrese and sweet little Judith had been holed up waiting for her return, everyone watching as Sasha, Rick, and Carl sprinted towards them, each cradling their respective loved one. It was another emotional yet much-needed heartfelt reunion, especially considering that the last few weeks had been nothing but hell in a handbasket.

"We should get moving, the fire's still burning" The grey-haired woman suggested as she gave the tall, rising black smoke one last look over.

"Yeah. We need to go" Rick nodded as he took stared at the smoke, an unreadable expression on his face and in his eyes.

Daryl huffed slightly, "Yeah, but where?" glancing around the remote area.

"Doesn't matter. Somewhere far away from there."

It had been a long few days since the group had gotten somewhere far away from there, and a long few days since anyone had anything to eat. Stomachs were empty and energy seemed to only be decreasing, the hunger gnawing away at all of you.

As the sun slowly began to rise above the horizon, Daryl quietly made his way into the dense forest in search of something to eat. It was quiet, and peaceful as he gingerly and skillfully walked through the mess of vines and roots at his feet, blue eyes scanning the dirt floor for any sign of movement that might indicate the presence of an animal.

Oddly enough, it felt like he wasn't necessarily alone in these woods, glancing around and over his shoulder more than he typically would. Maybe it was just a nearby walker he could sense before he could see, but he knew way better than to believe something like that. His gut told him that there was someone else out here, and Daryl learned to always listen to his gut.

He instinctively raised his crossbow to be eye level, scanning the treeline as he took careful and quiet steps, moving from the west to the north and then east. There was a slight breeze that ruffled the leaves, tousled dark hair in his face, and flowed a dirty white skirt from a few feet from him, a tiny but audible gasp heard.

It had come from behind a thick collection of bushes, Daryl carefully combing them out of the way with one hand and ducking to prevent anything from getting in his eye. He had a tight grip on his crossbow, ready for whatever potential danger could be on the other side.

Luckily for him though, there was no danger. It was just you, the weird and off-putting Greene who had somehow turned into a new interest for Daryl, not quite being able to put his finger on just what it was that drew him towards you.

You were a quiet, soft but strange Christian girl, much different than Maggie and Beth. Unlike them, you seemed to have some kind of spiritual connection to the bible, a deeper understanding of it that often made others feel oddly safe around you, as if you truly did have God protecting you.

Funny enough, it reminded Daryl of when his parents would drag him to the southern church, forcing him into the small confession box where he would sit and sob for hours, silently begging for God to come save him.

He could hear you softly murmuring something, but the full words didn't entirely reach his ears. You were kneeling in front of a large moss-covered log, hands clasped together with your head down, looking up every so often. He watched how every time you leaned back, your hair fluttered back and fell back into position.

Not wanting to be creepy, he decided to come out from where he had been hiding, a little taken aback when you seemed to not be bothered, as if you had already known he wasn't any sort of threat.

"Hell ya' doin' out here girl?" Daryl grumbled out, standing a few feet behind you. He watched as you repeated the motion with your head a few more times, eventually pushing yourself up off your knees.

You knocked the gathered leaves and a few bugs off your skirt, smiling at him softly. "Prayer. I come out here every mornin' for it"

He scoffed slightly, glancing down at the ground as he rolled a rock under his shoe. "Why bother? Not like s'gon get heard anyway"

“Yeah? We’ll see. I prayed we find a safe place today” You said as you brushed some hair our your mouth, wind starting to pick up in speed.

Daryl hummed, “Pray we also find some food?” flipping his own hair out his face.

“Of course,” You laughed slightly, airy and light. “But with you out here I think that’ll be answered”

The man scoffed again, this time ducking his head at your words. “Yeah right” He mumbled out.

“I mean it. Look, there’s a squirrel in that tree” You point to a nearby oak tree and Daryl follows your finger, pulling the trigger of his crossbow faster than you could even fathom.

The squirrel hit the ground, Daryl stepped over a few roots and bushes to pick it up, pulling the arrow out and tossing the carcass over his shoulder.

“Good eye girly. C’mon, guess yer God is gon help ya’ help feed us” He glanced at you from over his clear shoulder, motioning for you to follow him with a short nod of the head.

You followed as he walked through the thick mess of bushes, the green leaves staining your cowgirl boots as you stepped on them. The birds chirped loudly above head as the sun got higher and higher in the sky, the air starting to increase in temperature.

It was quite a nice walk through the forest regardless of the heat, Daryl making for much better company than you expected even though he didn't have much to say. You filled the silence by humming softly to yourself, staying a few feet behind and looking around the wooded terrain, keeping an eye out for animals and walkers.

Daryl paused for a moment, holding up a finger and then positioning his crossbow again. The weapon fired, and you watched as it struck another squirrel, this time pinning it against a tree.

He yanked the arrow out, sliding it back into the holder on the front of his bow and tossing the second squirrel over his shoulder.

"Need'ta get at least five," He said as he continued walking, glancing at you again from over his other shoulder just to make sure you were still there.

You scoffed slightly at his words. "Five?" You repeated, staring at the angel wings on the back of his vest.

Daryl nodded, peering up into the trees and looking around on the ground. "Yeah. Got a lotta people to feed"

"And you think five is the lucky number?" You joke lightly, a small smile tugging your lips as you stay hot on his heels.

He shrugged, squirrels bouncing with the motion. "Dunno. Depends on how many ya prayed for"

"Well, if you told me, I would've prayed for at least ten" You appeared at his side and bumped his arm with yours, his gaze meeting yours for only a split second before you were suddenly startled by Rick and Glenn's out-of-nowhere appearances.

They pointed their guns at both of you, and you put your hands up to show you weren't a threat. "Jus' catchin' some breakfast," Daryl said as he dropped his arms and nodded at Glenn in greetings.

"Ready to get some concrete under your feet?" Rick asked him as the four of you began to make your way out of the forest and back to the rest of the group, the day only getting hotter and hotter. "I think it's time."

Daryl hummed, a thin layer of sweat starting to form on his forehead. "That is sweet music to my ears, Officer."

"We take the next road we come to, try to get back to going north 'till we find a vehicle." Rick gestured slightly with his hand, gun still in his grip just in case.

You all stepped up the steep hill leading back to the road where the group had decided to set up a temporary camp for the night.

Rick meet Daryl's eyes, placing a hand on his squirrel-less shoulder. "Good?"

"Good"

"–And Father God, I once again call upon you to ask for a blessing, a miracle, an answer. You've got me so far, this group, I ask, will you continue to do so? Will you bestow us a safe place? A home?"

Back on the road once again. It was hot as the group ventured forward, worn down shoes and boots slapping against the burning pavement as you all conversed amount yourselves and entertained one another, Michonne and Carl in some form of competition while you lingered behind, Daryl nearby just in case a walker somehow nabbed you.

He silently listened to the soft whispering of your voice, the gentle lull you used as you spoke your prayers, walking with your head down and the palms of your hands facing towards the sky, almost reaching out in a sense.

There was a few questions lingering on his tongue, but growing up in the southern church Daryl had learned not to ask questions until after prayer. Hell, he had learned not to ask questions period.

Daryl only watched you out the corner of his eye, your plush lips moving slightly as you murmured. There was just something about you that was captivating, the fact that you were almost a mixture of Beth's sweet and softness, Maggie's stern and stubbornness, it made him curious to know what the third mysterious Greene had to offer.

"Amen" You mumbled a little louder than intended, clasping your hands together as you finished and concluded your prayer. You brushed some hair out your face when you lifted your head, catching a glimpse at Daryl's watchful eye.

He looked away when your gaze met his, furrowing your brow slightly with a small and playful smile. "What?" You appeared closer to his side and purposely bumped into him, watching how he staggered a little in his pace.

"Nothin'. Jus' hot as hell out here" Daryl shrugged slightly, sweat rolling down his face and back.

You hummed softly, "Hell is a lot hotter than this, but it is super hot. Just wish we could find a river or something" fanning your legs with the loose fabric of your skirt.

Daryl glanced at you, eyes dropping the flowing motion of the fabric. "Tryna' go swimmin'?" He questioned, because a dip in the cool river didn't sound that bad at all

"We weren't really allowed growing up, swimsuits were always super revealin' so we just stayed inside most summers" You shrugged, a tiny smile on your lips as you recalled past memories with your sisters, even if it was just sitting inside trashing the kitchen. "We weren't even allowed to wear shorts that didn't stop at the knees"

It made sense, ever since the farm you, Beth, and Maggie had always been more modestly dressed then the rest, never wearing something too short even if it was the only option.

But even then, as long as your skirt as, Daryl still couldn't help himself from picturing the entirety of your bare legs, a shiver coursing through him as he tried to wipe the image away as quickly as it had come. You were sweet, almost too sweet for him. He was damaged and tainted, you were pure and holy.

"My moms used'ta watch me 'nd m'brother when we went to the river behind our house 'cause I ain't know how'ta swim as a kid" Daryl forced himself to say, tearing his eyes away from the dingy fabric and looking anywhere that just wasn't where you were.

Of course, it wasn't it that easy, especially when you giggled at his sentence which almost caused him whiplash from how hard he snapped his neck at you.

"Sorry, sorry. Just– You didn't know how to swim? Even I can swim" You covered your mouth as you spoke through your laughter, cheeks starting to hurt a little from how hard you were smiling.

Daryl scoffed, the sound of your giggles being music to his ears. "Laugh it up girly. Won't be funny when I throw ya' in a river"

You did laugh even harder at that, maybe because you knew it might be true. "It'll be hilarious! Even more because you'll be the one finding me a new outfit"

"Jus' a little water. S'not like yer damn skirt s'gon wash away" Daryl rolled his eyes, watching as you fake a look of offense.

"How do you know that? It just might! Then you'd have to cover me up" You folded your arms over your chest, quirking a brow at the older man as he glanced you up and down.

"Maybe I don' want to" He mumbled with a short shrug of his mouth

"What do you want?" You asked with a small tilt of your head.

Daryl's lips moved way faster then his brain, and he found himself suddenly muttering out "Wanna see wha's under tha' pretty dress"

You stared at him for a little, and he wished he could just bury an arrow in his head now, but then you chuckled a bit, nudging his arm with yours. "That's a sin, Daryl"

The two of you fell silent, your words lingering in Daryl's mind as he focused his gaze down on the floor, his ears perking slightly when they caught the gentle sound of your humming, some kind of song that he had surely never heard before.

He didn't wanna admit that your voice was soothing and melodic, it almost reminded him of his mother when she would cradle his trembling body in her arms, bruised and bloodied as the soft vibrations of her humming buzzed through him, comforting him as he softly sniffled into her chest, clutching onto her shirt and wondering what it was that made him so undeserving of God's–

"Help!"

The scream of terror rang out from the forest to the woods, and you all looked around at each other as your movements halted, everyone turning in the direction they thought the cry had come from with their weapons drawn, you subconsciously inching closer to Daryl for safety.

"Help, anybody! Help!" The cries came again, this time audibly and undeniably from the left side of the trees.

Rick nodded his head, gun drawn and pointed as he dashed off the road and into the forest, the group all following closely behind as the screams and pleads for help didn't cease, getting louder and closer which drew the attention of nearby walkers, having to dodge and take out any that got too close.

"Anyone, help! Help!"

As you all sprinted deeper into the trees, the sound of snarling and clicking teeth began to mix and become more audible, eventually leading the group out into a green clearing where there was a... pastor cowering ontop of a large stone rock, slipping off and making a half-ass attempt at kicking the walkers.

There weren't that many walkers, but it was still enough to where Rick felt firing his gun was necessary. The gunshots rang out through the forest, and you covered your ears at the loud noise, wincing slightly as it bounced around uncomfortably in your head.

Daryl took out the last straggler with a hard stab of his knife, wiping the thick blood off his blade on his pants before he slid it back in his holster, appearing at your side as he analyzed the pained expression on your face.

"Ya' alrigh'?" He murmered softly, hands hovering over your face but not quiet touching it, almost as if he was restraining himself.

You nodded, uncovering your ears and glancing at the pastor on the top of the rock, Daryl and everyone else following your gaze.

He whimpered softly and quietly from where he sat, eyes frantically darting between the all of you as if you all were the threat.

"Come on down." Rick said in a loud, stern voice, taking a few steps forward in front as the group took a few steps back.

The man rolled on his stomach and awkwardly wormed his way down grunting slightly and crying out when he slipped the rest of the way and landed on his ass.

A few giggles erupted from you and Maggie, stifling your laughter in the same way you've both always done by simply turning your heads away from the source of humor.

Rick didn't seem too entertained though, glancing the man up and down when he stumbled to his feet and dusted himself off. "You okay?" He raised a brow, emotion unmoving and flat.

"Sorry. Yes, thank you. I-I'm Gabriel." He stammered out, his lips pulling themselves into a small an nervous smile.

"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick titled his head as he asked condescendingly, taking another step closer to 'Gabriel.'

The man in question chuckled slightly. "Do I look like I would have any weapons?"

"We don't give a rats flying fucking ass what it looks like." Abraham barked out, and you could only nod your head in agreement.

Gabriel mumbled out some kind of understanding before he put on his best brave face. "I have no weapons of any kind. The word of God is the only protection I need"

At that you scoffed, covering your mouth in a fake apology. "Oh sorry, just that, didn't really look like God was protecting you now was he?"

Gabriel smiled nervously and awkwardly at your words, his eyes taking in your attire and the sparkly cross around your neck. "Well, he led a woman of your nurture here, so that must mean something right?"

"Oh of course. It means that you have something we want" You spoke softly, yet your tone was oddly dark. It somehow flipped the aura surrounding the group, replacing it with a heavy presence that just couldn't be explained.

"I-I have nothing to offer. Whatever food I- I had left, it just hit the ground." He glanced down at the ruin pile of whatever it was he had.

Carl stepped forward, fishing something out his pocket and holding it out to the pastor. "We've got some pecans, sorry if you're allergic" He partially joked, taking a step back and behind his dad.

Gabriel thanked him, dumping a few into his mouth and chewing. Judith cooed sweetly from where she rested against Beth, the mans eyes softening as he spotted her. "That's a beautiful child," He said, glancing around at just how many of you there were. "D- Do you have a camp?"

"No. Do you?" Rick asked without hesitation.

"I have a church." Gabriel mumbled, and your ears perked up at the sound of that. Daryl also noted the way your face lit up, while his twisted in distain.

Rick stuck his gun in the waist band of his jeans, aggressively grabbing Gabriel. "Hold your hands above your head."

"How many walkers have you killed?" He questioned, roughly patting the man down in search for any weapons.

"Not any, actually." Gabriel answered nervously.

"Turn around." Rick commanded and he spun the man, continuing his thorough search. "How many people have you killed?"

"None." Gabriel said as Rick spun him back around, narrowing sharp, quizzical blue eyes at him.

"Why?" He almost hissed the words out, whispering them out through the skin of his teeth.

Gabriel was silent for a moment, glancing at all of you before back at Rick. "Because the Lord abhors violence."

"We've all done something, we were all born as sinners. Nobody's perfectly pure." You spoke up from where you stood behind Daryl, shaking your head slightly. Daryl could argue with your words that you were the most perfect damn thing he’s seen, but he forced himself to keep his mouth shut instead. You were pure and holy, he was damaged and tainted.

He looked at you, slightly taken aback. Rick finished his search by nodding in confirmation that he was clear, taking a step back from Gabriel but not too far.

"I sin almost every day," He murmured out after a moment, scanning you all once more before his lips shifted into another small nervous smile. "But those sins, I confess them to God, not strangers."

"You said you had a church?"

You sat outside on the church step with all the other women, plus Gabriel, while all the guys stormed inside to do a thorough search of the building, in search of any weapons or any other people. Although Gabe claimed it was just him and himself, Rick didn't believe him and didn't want to take any risks.

It was quite peaceful, birds chirping above with a slight breeze that brought a little bit of cooling relief from the burning sun. Judith cooed softly in Beth's lap, shaded from the sun courtesy of Carl's hat, too big to properly fit her head but big enough to cover her body.

"I spent months here without stepping out the front door." Gabriel's voice cut through the blissful silence, and you tried not to shoot him an irritated glare. Rick came out first, followed by Daryl and then Glenn. "If you found someone inside, well, it would have been surprising."

"We found a short bus out back." Rick said, hands on his hips as he squinted from the harsh glare of the sun. “Nothing else besides that. I think we can settle down here for a minute”

“Shit ain’t settled ‘till we get Eugene’s ass to Washington” Abraham’s voice barked from behind the man, Eugene and Rosita following suit.

Daryl stood on the step above yours, and you turned to smile softly at him as his large frame blocked the scorching light of the sun from spilling down onto you.

He scowled in response, but only because he didn't wanna make his cheeks any more red than they already were. He turned his head away and decided to just blame the burning sensation on the Georgia heat.

Rick shrugged his shoulders as he dismissed Abraham. "Yeah, well, people are exhausted. This place has four walls and a roof. Safe. In other words, we're staying here."

"Sounds pretty good to me, I've slept inside a chapel before," You said as you twisted your head to look at Rick, glancing inside the church to get a glimpse at the size inside. "Plus we can all fit in there, so why not? We could even do our own version of 'The Last Supper' but with squirrel meat" You added, gesturing towards the string of squirrels Daryl had managed to catch on the journey here.

"That kinda does sound good" Beth smiled as she bounced Judith on her leg, the thought of eating meat making her really hungry. "And we can have a bonfire! It'll be even better 'cause we won't have to sleep outside after we put it out" She gasped slightly when the idea crossed her mind, sitting up a little straighter as she talked about it.

Maggie smiled softly at the two of you as you both made light of the situation, grateful that you had always been able to see the bright side of things and just simply brush things off, sometimes falling and scraping your knee but getting right back up to walk it off.

Out of the three of them, you had always had a much stronger connection to God even as a child, sometimes walking right out of Sunday school because you claimed the teacher "silenced" his voice. Growing up, you only continued to believe more and more, so much to the point that it almost worried Maggie, like you could always see something that she couldn't.

There were times when she found herself a bit envious of you, especially when you both had reached your teen years, Maggie starting to take a dive at rebellion and you still as perfectly holy as you had been at age five, wardrobe consisting of nothing but your pristine white clothes, and the same faded white cowgirl boots daddy had bought for you a decade ago on Christmas. He had gotten you all a pair to wear around the farm when dealing and riding with the horses, you and Beth wearing yours down to absolute hell.

By the time you were both in your early twenties, petty rivalry put aside years later replaced by constant gossip and the latest guy Maggie was going out with, she realized that there was no reason to envy you, because she didn't wanna be you. You were pure, holy, and kept yourself high within your faith, studying the Bible in a way that she sometimes couldn't even wrap her head around.

"We need supplies, no matter what we do next" Rick spoke up as he glanced around at everyone, watching Beth pass over Judith to you to sit in the shade Daryl provided.

Glenn nodded in agreement. "That's right. Food, water, ammunition, anything we can find"

You quirked a brow at Gabriel, glancing him up and down. "How'd you survive here for so long?"

He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice and stuttered as all eyes landed on him. "W- Well, I had God protecting me"

"No, you didn't. God doesn't protect, he watches" You rolled your eyes at him, as if this wasn't common knowledge.

Gabriel was taken aback by your response, mouth slightly agape as he scrambled to find a different answer. "Our annual canned food drive, things fell apart right after we finished-"

"That's great 'nd all, but Rick, seriously, we're gon' get heatstroke s sittin' out here in the boilin' sun" Maggie cut the man off, fanning herself with both her hands even as she was pressed up against your side, trying to hog the shade that you were already sharing with Beth and Jude.

Carol nodded her head in agreement, also dripping in sweat. "Yeah. You said it was safe, so why aren't we inside yet?" She gestured to the church.

"Alright, alright. Everyone inside. Let's cool off and rest our feet. We can discuss what's next later." Rick nodded and propped the church door open so that the group could easily fit through with all their stuff and guns, loud clattering as these things were dropped on the floor.

You followed after Maggie as she helped Glenn haul a bag inside, holding Judith on your hip as she sucked on her tiny fist. The way you held her almost looked natural, as if she was your very own. Daryl tried to pry his eyes away, but he just couldn't. He was drawn to you in a way he couldn't understand.

It bothered him in a way, the world had ended and you treated every day as if it was just an average day, as if dead people walking around was nothing more but an inconvenience. You were a carefree and buoyant spirit, as if your mind was consistently clear and levelheaded.

But it also intrigued him, how somehow someway in a world plagued with darkness that forces people to be tough and hard, you still manage to be soft and dainty, as if the plague hadn't even touched you once.

There was a combination of walker blood and mud splattered all across your white dress, some of it on your sleeves and your face, yet it didn't make you look any less tender, especially now as you seemed to sit cozily in the nave of the church, bouncing Judith on your leg as you softly hummed her a song.

Inside the church was fairly big, the back of it containing a few large offices that Rick deemed the safest the camp out in for the night, explaining that the doors had locks and that if someone were to break in everyone would hear and have plenty of time to wake up, claiming that everyone could sneak out the back door or just fight if need.

"The food lasted a long time," Gabriel said once the large wooden door creaked shut, other members of the group finding a place to settle down. "And then I started scavenging. I've cleaned out every place nearby, except for one."

"What kept you from it?" Rick questioned.

Gabe shrugged. "It's overrun."

"How many?" Glenn pipped in from against a wall.

Gabriel slightly tilted his head in thought. "A dozen or so? Maybe more."

Rick scoffed, hands on his hips as he stared at the man. "We can handle a dozen."

"Bob and I will go with you," Michonne said calmly as she stepped forward. "Tyreese should stay here, help keep Judith safe."

"That'll be okay?" Rick glanced over to the man in question, who nodded his head.

"You ever need me to watch her, need anything for her, I'm right here" Tyreese said with a small smile.

The corner of Rick's mouth slightly quipped upward in a tiny smirk. "I'm grateful for it."

"I'll draw you a map–" Gabriel spoke up but was quickly cut off, "–You don't need to, you're coming with us." by Rick who shot him down with a cold icy glare.

It caught Gabriel off-guard and made his anxiety go through the roof. "I– I'm not gonna be of any help, you saw me up on that rock, I'm no good around those things." He stammered, trying to plead his case nervously under Rick's burning gaze.

"You're coming with us."

The sun had set long ago, and the inside of the church was lit up with a warm candle ambiance that fueled that lighthearted mood, everyone in the group chattering and laughing with one another for the first time in what felt like years.

"I'd like to propose a toast." Abraham loudly announced over everyone and all conversations ceased as the ginger easily captured all eyes in the room, raising his glass of wine that Gabriel had pulled from his own office.

"When I look around this room... all I can see is survivors." He said, scanning his eyes over the nave and everyone inside. "Each and every damn one of you has earned that title."

Abraham was silent for a moment, giving the room one last glance over before tipping his glass. "To the survivors."

"Survivors! Cheers!" You all said in unison, raising your glasses and clinking it against the person beside you, the church erupting back into its previous laughter as everyone resumed drinking and enjoying the night.

You scooted your way over to Daryl who was sat in a corner, purposely getting in his space and holding out your glass to him. "Survivors." You mumbled, a tiny smile tugging at your lips.

He glanced at you, a faraway expression on his face as he raised his glass to yours, mumbling out a soft,"Survivors" that was only loud enough for the both of you to hear.

"Now," Abraham said out loud once again, all eyes falling on him. "We get Eugene to Washington, and he will make the dead die, and the living will have this world again." He took a swing of his drink, raising his pinky. "And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip."

From where Judith sat snuggly in Rick's lap, she cooed and fisted some of his shirts in her small hands.

"Eugene, what's in DC?" The ginger questioned, all eyes now falling on the scientist for the answer.

He took a moment, clearing his throat before he spoke in his usual flat and unwavering tone of voice. "Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude, that means food, fuel, refuge."

"Restart," Abraham concluded, Eugene giving a short and curt nod at the response. "However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started."

"Save the world for that little one, save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there, who don't got' nothin' left to do except survive." Abraham spoke, his words of encouragement ringing out through the church's walls.

Judith cooed loudly as she squirmed in Rick's lap, and he smiled at her as he readjusted his grip on her tiny torso. "I think she knows what I'm about to say," Rick joked, managing a few laughs from people. "If she's in, then I'm in too."

"We're all in" Carol interjected, smiles spreading across everyone's faces as conversations and laughter began to fill the room again, people started to celebrate by drinking, clapping, and cheering, the energy in the room upbeat and positive. "Let's do it!" Abraham exclaimed, clearly now tipsier than everyone else as he raised his almost empty glass in the air one more time.

The once warm and cozy atmosphere that the church had inside during the earlier activities had been snuffed out long ago, leaving a cold and empty feeling inside the nave.

It wasn't literally cold, or maybe it was just the cigarette that was keeping Daryl warm, taking long drags from the small stick every minute or so. He couldn't be bothered to go all the way outside, and the natural glow of the moon seeping into the room was more than enough.

Plus, it's not like he was alone, considering that you were sitting in the aisle over from him with your head down.

It had been just the two of you in pure silence for about thirty minutes, and Daryl had only been staring at you for twenty. He tried not to, he really did, but it was hard for his eyes to peel away from the way your dress reflected the light, hands neatly folded together in your lap as hair spilled down your shoulders.

Because of the wine from earlier, there was a slight buzz that ran through Daryl's nerves that somehow encouraged him to stop staring and stand, making his way over to where you were sitting.

"Smoking is a sin, and so is interrupting my prayer," You said once he was sat a few inches from you, not even glancing up at him once.

Daryl let out a tiny scoff, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Yeah, well, s'gon fall on deaf ears anyway"

"Do you not believe in God?" You asked as you blinked your eyes, now turning your head to look at him with genuine curiosity etched on your features.

The man shook his head. "Ain't ever believed in no God," he said, pulling another hit and speaking around it. "Hell, ain't ever believed in nobody"

You sighed a little, leaning back against the bench. "God believes in you"

Daryl scoffed a lot louder at that. "Don' even believe in m'self"

"Well, I believe in you," You said with a shrug, scooting a bit closer to him to bump him with your elbow.

He grumbled as he bumped you back, more so pushing as he held his cigarette between his teeth. "Wha' else ya' believe in? Sandy Clause?"

You let out a small giggle at his butchered version of the fictional character. "Santa, and no, I don't. But I do believe that this is the next world though."

"Why? We ain't dead yet" Daryl analyzed you from the corner of his eyes.

You shook your head, "No, we're not. We never have been. Don't you see? This, this is the resurrection" waving your hands around for emphasis.

"I thought everyone was s'pposed ta' disappear or some shit?" He questioned and you rolled your eyes at him. "Oh come on, I thought you didn't believe in stuff like that. Did you also think that Jesus was gonna fly down from the sky and save us all?"

Daryl huffed as he took a long drag, getting more toward the last few puffs of his cigarette as he raised a brow at you. "Ain't that tha' whole point?"

"That's what people want you to think. They always talk about the resurrection and how Jesus will come back from the dead to save humanity from its wrongdoings, which is exactly what's happening now"

"Tha' hell ya' tryna' say, girl?"

"That God has a plan. He wants the world to be pure again, he wants us to be pure again"

At your words, Daryl scoffed, taking a long and final drag of his cigarette. "Well, m'not very pure unlike yerself" He said as he stomped out the butt of the remaining stick, crushing it under a muddy a boot.

"You're tainted, and its okay. No need to be envious of my non-sinning streak" You jokingly said, flipping your hair which got a tiny chuckle out the older man.

"Now I definitely don' believe ya' ain't ever committed no sin" He said, shaking his head.

You had a small smile playing at your lips, shrugging both shoulders as you looked at him. "I mean, technically walkers aren't people, so I don't really think I've killed anyone"

"Steal anythin'?"

"Thou shall not steal, Daryl. Plus, looting stores is only against the law"

"Well, everyone's told a lie"

"Oh, I'd never lie. The truth will set you free"

Daryl frowned at your words. "Yer startin' ta' piss me off, girl"

"I'm just not a sinner, Daryl. I was raised inside a church, so I spent all my time studying the bible and asking God questions." You said with a sigh, thinking back to when you were still a little girl.

"Wha' kinda questions?" Daryl asked, and you turned once again to meet his gaze.

"Well," You started, taking a moment to think before glancing back up at him. "I've always wondered if you commit a sin inside a church, if it still counts as a sin"

"How would ya' know?"

You shrugged. "I don't, I've never really had any sin to commit"

Daryl hummed, eyes flickering down to your plush lips, tracing the shape of them a few times before shifting his gaze back up to meet your eyes. "Lust is a sin"

"Now that's just unholy, Daryl" You scoffed at him, crossing your arms and turning your head away to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks, because lust was indeed a sin. "It's extremely important to save yourself for the person you're gonna marry. Sex is an emotional gift"

The man furrowed his brows, "How do ya' know tha' if ya' ain't ever fucked?" suppressing the shiver that ran through him at his own words.

Something dark twisted and turned in his stomach just thinking about the idea that you were just as pure as the day that you were born, and he tried not to think about the wildly dirty things he wanted to do to you that he knew would potentially leave a stain. You had probably never even thought of doing something like that, let alone with someone of his nature.

But you had, and you were right now, nervously and subconsciously squeezing your thighs together the more self-aware you started to feel within the older man's presence, feeling his eyes traveling over the length of your body. "I told you, I studied the bible. Sex is the connection of two people who are bound to one another for life, aka being married of course"

"Sex could also just be sex," Daryl shrugged, his brows unmoving as your words confusingly rang out in his ears. "Ain't much of a difference is there?"

You sighed, shaking your head at him. "Of course there is silly. When you're married, sex is a form of art and beauty, as well as conception. God intends for us to use our bodies as a way to communicate with our partner. Any other time, sex is just a form of escape and pleasure, abusing the gift that God has given us in a sinful way, or as you know, lust"

Daryl hummed as you simplified the words for him in a way that he still didn't necessarily understand, but he just decided to pretend like he did. "Ya' ain't ever go through hormones growin' up?"

"Are you asking if I get horny?" You let out a tiny giggle at how his eyes snapped to yours at the blunt question, his cheeks starting to tint pink as he grumbled and looked away. You laughed and wrapped your hands around his forearm, pulling at the man and trying to get him to look at you. "Don't get embarrassed! Are you?"

Unknowingly, you had instead pulled yourself a lot closer to Daryl, and when he twisted his head back in your direction, you were both face to face, noses almost touching.

Daryl stopped breathing for a few seconds as your doe eyes stared up at him, flickering down to where your fingers gripped what you now realized was his very muscular forearm. Sitting this close to him under his burning blue gaze made you feel a bit small, and made a funny feeling form in your lower stomach.

His own eyes flickered back down to your lips, finding himself using his other hand to brush some hair out of your face, curling his fingers at the back of your hand and cupping your cheek in a big, calloused palm, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. "Maybe I am"

"This is God's house, Daryl." You muttered in a hushed whisper as you curled your fingers around his arm, trying not to downright melt into the warm touch of his hand.

"Think he's gon' watch us?" He whispered back, and your lower stomach tingled in a way that made your whole core heat up, feeling a mild throbbing sensation coming from your private area as you looked up at the older man, running his thumb over the edge of your jaw.

"I– I don't–" You stammered, shifting your eyes away from his as you found yourself at a loss for words.

"Said ya' always wanted ta' commit a sin inna church, righ'?" Daryl tilted your gaze back to his, stroking your cheek with a gentleness you didn't even know he could muster. "Might as well do the one tha' feels best"

"But I've never done something like this... Will it– Will it hurt?" You said as you searched his eyes, the blue orbs going soft and tender.

"M'not gonna hurt ya' at all sweetheart," He said in a genuine voice, holding your face a little tighter. He couldn't even imagine hurting something as dainty as you, especially not with the way you were looking up at him with curious and innocent eyes. "If anythin' I do hurts, tell me, alrigh'?"

You nodded, the corner of your lips twitching into a smile as it felt like there was an entire butterfly exhibit in your stomach, Daryl learning down into your space and first giving your lips a small peck, before pulling you completely flush by the back of your nape, a shiver running up your spine that went all the way down to your clothed cunt, legs squeezing together as Daryl deepened the kiss, your first and hottest kiss ever.

It made your head light and dizzy, leaving you starstruck and dazed when he pulled away with only a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips, Daryl brushing the skin of your cheek once again as you slowly blinked, still feeling airy from the kiss you just experienced.

"Do that again please" You murmured in a tiny plea, feeling both sets of your lips tingle in excitement at all the new sensations Daryl was showing you.

He pulled you in for a chaste peck, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. "Ya' like tha', pretty girl?" He mumbled the words against you, pressing another kiss to your plush lips and swallowing the tiny moan you let out.

You moved to wrap your arms around the older man's neck, Daryl now taking both his hands and gripping you by your waist, pulling a shocked gasp from you at the way his touch made your cunt ache. He carefully moved you to lay on your back, slotting a thigh between your legs and pressing the denim material against your soaked panties, a noise mixed between embarrassment and need coming from your throat.

It felt so good, and you found yourself trying to rut against Daryl's thigh as he started to kiss and suck at your neck, making you giggle slightly as the skin there was more ticklish than anywhere else. His body was big and warm as it was pressed on top of yours, feeling a pulsating sensation traveling through your nerves as you continued to needily hump his leg, whining softly as you tried to further fuel the feel-good moment you were having.

"Let m'help ya' out doll, jus' leave it all ta' me, gon' make ya feel real good" Daryl spoke the words from the underside of your jaw, kissing his way up to your lips before he leaned back, pulling his thigh back and leaving a hand on your hip, courtesy of your fingers scrambling to curl around his for comfort.

"I'm a bit nervous," You said, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment as you spoke the words. "What if I mess something up?"

"Tha' ain't gon' happen, m'gon do all tha' work fer ya'" Daryl said as his hands moved down to your thighs, lifting and pulling your legs to circle his waist, a shrill shriek tearing out your throat as your dress started to slip down and pool at your waist.

It left your lower half completely exposed, and it was almost an instinct to drop your hands down to cover your panties, a hot blush painting over as Daryl gripped both your hands in one, moving them away and pinning them to your chest. "Nuh'uh, ya' ain't gonna hide from me, pretty girl"

You whined softly as he released your wrists, ducking his head down to kiss and lick your stomach, causing you to jerk from the wet muscle dragging across your skin. His fingers traveled down past the hem of your undies, pushing them midway down your thighs before sitting back up and lifting one of your thighs, yanking the flimsy blue fabric the rest of the way off and stuffing it in his back pocket, pulling you a bit closer as he licked his lips, eyeing the prettiest pussy he's ever seen.

You weren't exactly sure what to do with your hands, deciding instead to clench the cross around your neck in one and prop yourself up on the other, all this being so new and different, dirty and sinful, that you couldn't help but wanna watch.

Daryl placed a hand on your hip, the other moving to gather spit on his fingers. "Gotta get ya' stretched out so I don' hurt ya'"'

"Is this part gonna hurt? I've only masturbated once, but I was too scared to actually finger myself" You frowned a little, feeling your nerves spike as it started set really just how inexperienced you were.

Daryl leaned down and placed a soft peck to your lips, dipping his fingers into your cunt gently and rubbing the digits up and down your slit, pressing down against your clit and moving in a circular motion, his actions on the bundle of nerves sending shivers sparking up your spine, letting out a moan that was deep in your throat right against the older man's lips.

He let out a low chuckle, adding a second finger to his movement against your clit. "Doesn' hurt now, does it?"

You shook your head, body tingling in a foreign way that almost made you feel like you had been tased but in a good way, not that you've ever been tased before. The rough pads of his fingertips against your clit drove you absolutely crazy, the faster they moved the more you found your hips jerking down in a clumsy attempt to speed up whatever high it was you were riding right now, feeling better than you ever have in your whole life.

"There ya' go beautiful, c'mon, cum on m'fingers" Daryl murmured the words out, quickening his pace as he could feel your legs twitching around him, your whines and whimpers getting louder and louder. He spread your cunt lips apart more which revealed your raw clit more, a few harsh strokes to the small bud before you were biting down on your bottom lip and letting your head fall back, a shaky, pleased cry tearing out your chest as waves of electricity coursed through your entire nervous system.

Rather than pulling his fingers away, Daryl dragged them back down your now much more sensitive slit, this time slipping a single digit past your tight entrance, the feeling foreign and oddly unique. Daryl's finger was a bit bigger than average, so you could feel there was a slight stretch to your virgin hole.

Daryl could feel it too, as well as the way you experimentally clenched and convulsed around his stilled finger, giving you a few minutes to adjust to the new feeling.

When he began to slowly thrust the digit in and out, curling the tip of his finger each time in search of your sweet spot, carefully watching the way your face twisted and contorted.

"Ya' alrigh'?" He asked, starting to brush his thumb against the skin where he was gripping your hip.

You nodded, involuntarily clenching around him. "Yeah, it just feels really funny, maybe I just had my expectations too high," You said as you furrowed your brows, a bit upset that 'fingering' wasn't all you chalked it up to be.

"First finger ain't much, second one might feel 'bit different" Daryl said as he pulled the digit back, this time pushing back into you with both fingers, the stretch and drag of the two digits feeling agreeably more different than just one.

This time Daryl just kept up his steady pace, continuing to thrust and curl his fingers into your cunt, starting to scissor you further open. Your eyes trailed down to follow the movement of his other hand as he released his grip on your hip, beginning to undo the zipper of his jeans and shoving them halfway down, the first and biggest cock you've ever laid eyes on.

Your jaw went a little slack, scrambling to find words as you felt panic boil in your stomach. "That– That's not gonna fit!"

"Calm down doll, I swear yer'gon be jus' fine" Daryl murmured softly, reaching down to reassuringly press his forehead against yours, so close that your eyelashes were almost touching. "Told ya', m'not gonna hurt ya'. S'probably not gon' feel tha' best at first but it gets better, righ'?"

Taking his words into consideration for a minute, you nodded your head against his and let your eyes flutter shut as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips, followed by another, and then the feeling of his fingers slipping out of you.

It left you feeling oddly empty, but there was excitement building up as you watched Daryl spit on his cock, using it as lube as he dragged it up your already slick slit, pressing the tip into your hole and easily pushing past, the stretch of his cock slowly slipping into you a lot more painful than expected, your hands finding his forearms where he gripped your waist and squeezing them tightly, wincing slightly as you dug your nails into his skin.

Daryl caressed the skin of your waist with his thumb, trying his best to ease the discomfort he could see and knew he was causing you. "I know, I know, s'gon be alrigh' gorgeous, yer' alrigh'" He muttered, pulling his hips back and pushing them forward again, repeating the motion in long, deep strokes.

Whatever his method was, it was definitely working, each drag of his cock against your walls feeling better and better, your cunt only getting wetter and wetter which made it so much easier for Daryl to increase his pace, trying his best to restrain himself from completely plowing into you like he had been craving to do for days, weeks now.

He didn't wanna hurt you or go too rough, this was your first time for crying out loud, a sweet christian girl who hadn't even dipped her own fingers inside herself, and here he was, a grumpy tainted man who had somehow managed to stuff himself balls deep into her pure little pussy, hugging his cock in a warm, velvety hold that he just wanted to absolutely ruin.

He watched the way your eyes fluttered, soft moans coming from you as your face seemed to be pleasantly relaxed, the tight and fearful grip you once had on his arms now reduced to a lazy and content hold, fingers squeezed every once in a while when Daryl's cock would bump a rather sensitive nerve. "That actually feels good" You mumbled as a small smile twitched on your lips.

But Daryl knew how he could make it feel even better, and his restraint to hold back from completely plowing into you had run down to nothing, a sharp grunt leaving his throat when he snapped his hips forward, shoving the entirety of his cock into you suddenly.

You let out a surprised squeak at the action, Daryl's hands planting themselves awkwardly but firmly on the church bench, your own moving to keep yourself steady as he ducked his head down to begin sucking your neck, setting a rough and unforgiving pace.

"Oh my fuuuck" You moaned out in a shaky, pleased breath, fingers curling into the wood and your toes curling in your boots. It's like you were dancing on cloud ten, each hard bump of his tip to your cervix making your mouth practically water, sending bolts of lightning licking up your spine.

Daryl groaned into the skin of your neck, sucking and kissing against your pulse as he got lost in the warmth of your cunt. "Got such a perfect fuckin' pussy, love tha' s'all fer me"

You whined and couldn't help but clench around him at his words, a shudder running through you when you felt him start to speed up, pulling tiny moans out of your chest at every thrust.

Daryl muttered in a husky voice right by your ear, "Feels so fuckin' amazin' doll, so damn tight 'nd wet, might fuck ya' fer hours" grabbing you by the hip and pulling you impossibly further in his lap, driving his cock faster and deeper into your body, nailing your tender sweet spot dead on which caused you to let out a high pitch cry, Daryl muffling your sounds with a slow but sloppy kiss.

He slammed his cock right into the sensitive bundle of nerves, each thrust making you feel dizzy and lightheaded, knocking the air out of your lungs but it felt so good you couldn't even care, eyes starting to roll back when Daryl slid a hand down to roughly finger at your clit, the way he was stimulating your whole cunt making the entire room spin, a shaky, needy sob spilling pat your lips as your whole body was drowning in pulsing and throbbing tingles, Daryl placing another kiss to your lips as he only went faster.

"Ya like tha' huh m'lil sinner? Goin' against everythin' ya' stand fer, feels real good don' it?" He groaned the words out against your lips, and you downright whimpered at his words, heart pounding in your ears as he worked your clit, still ramming in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You couldn't think, and the only word you could muster was a small, broken "D-Daryl"

Your hips jerked down to clumsily grind against his fingers and his cock, needily chasing the building high of your second orgasm as it became difficult to keep your volume at a low, moans starting to tear themselves right out your throat.

Daryl reached an arm underneath your back and flipped you into a sitting position, straddling his lap with his fat cock now one hundred percent of the way buried inside you, so deep that you were convinced for a second that he was in your stomach. You draped your arms over his shoulders and muffled a lewd moan into his neck, the first thrust sending him deeper than ever.

He held you flush against him and bunched your dress up with one hand, and squeezed your hip with the other, letting out breathy, heavy moans of his own as he bounced you in his lap, the tight and slick drag of your raw cunt against his throbbing cock straight up addictive.

"So goddamn wet baby, ya' was saving this wet ass lil' pussy fer me huh, lil' devil?" As the man spoke, he sounded extremely winded, with deep and passionate huffs, you couldn't help but convulse around him at his words, a tiny noise leaving your lips as you clung to him tighter, whining as his hand on your hip pulled you even closer against his pelvis. "Fuck, so fuckin' perfect doll"

Only choked-off moans and whimpers came from you, trying to muffle your sounds into Daryl's neck as his cock shifted angles inside, driving himself right into a soft and squishy spot that made you mewl, the man holding you down as he continued to slam into that spot head-on. His thrusts were fast and unforgiving, fucking your cunt almost as if he hated you, but his grip was tight and protective, holding your body against his like he loved you.

Which he did, but he just didn't know how to say it. His only hope being that you could feel it in the way he fucked into you, hips starting to falter slightly as your tight cunt milked his cock, practically sucking him in and making it impossible for him to ever want to pull out.

From the way you had started to tremble and spasm around him, Daryl could tell that your orgasm was getting closer and closer, encouraging him to quicken his pace. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” He murmured as he moved down to pepper kisses across your cheek.

“Yes! Oh my goodness yes” You moaned as your entire body pulsated, each bump of his tip to your cervix sending you further into bliss. Your arms dropped down and you curled your fingers into his sturdy shoulders for purchase as he relentlessly pounded your twitching pussy, keeping your limp body closely pressed against his.

Daryl could feel the boiling heat of his own orgasm rising in his gut, the wet and warm slide of your cunt against the throbbing pulse of his aching cock pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He hitched your dress up further as he adjusted his grip on you, speeding up his pace even more as he started to chase after his own relief, the squeeze of your soft and squishy walls practically making him drunk.

He groaned as electricity licked and burned through his veins, thoughts flashing and racing through his head. “Let me cum in ya’ doll. Gonna get ya’ nice ‘nd plumped up with a lil’ baby, huh?”

That sent tingles shooting down your spine, clenching down around his thickness at the words each time they rang out in your head. Growing up, all you've ever wanted was to have a sweet little baby of your own, and after unlocking such a world like this you couldn't possibly picture life without Daryl at your side.

"Please, please give me that" You almost whimpered as you trembled against his chest, heart pounding in your chest as a heat burned and built up in your stomach. You jerked your hips and made a clumsy attempt to rut down against him, but he tightened the hold he had on your lower half to stop your movements. "I've got ya' gorgeous, m'gon take care of ya', told ya' m'gon make ya' feel good"

Daryl readjusted his position, moving you to sit up properly and gripping you at the waist, pinning up your dress there as well as he started to bounce you in his lap, downright using your body as a sex toy as he plowed right into your sensitive sweet spot, pulling strained and guttural moans from your chest as you tried your hardest to keep your volume down as to not echo off the church's wall, biting back sobs as your hands found their way to Daryl's chest, fingers curling into the strong flesh as all the digits had a hot buzz to them, lungs suddenly not being able to take in any air as your stomach burned, toes curling in your boots and teeth clenching as a wave of scorching hot pleasure washed over your whole entire body, this time not being able to hold back the loud cry that tore it's way out your throat, uncontrollably convulsing around his cock as he thoroughly fucked you through your orgasm, muffling your pleased moans with a messy kiss.

With the way your now overly sensitive cunt squeezed and roughly gripped his pulsating dick, Daryl wasn't far behind in his orgasm, grunting into your mouth as his hips stuttered inside you, cock twitching eagerly as he pumped his load deep into the warmth of your heat, Daryl slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressing it up against yours.

When he pulled away, you were nothing but a puddle of pure jelly, going limp in his grasp as he wrapped a secure arm around your middle, moving to kiss and suck your neck as he covered you back up by dropping your dress, deciding he wanted to stay wrapped inside you a little longer.

"Are you gonna give me my panties back?" You questioned from where you now rested against his shoulder, eyes following the older mans movement as he flicked his lighter, holding the flame up to a new cigarette.

The tip burned red as he took the first and long drag, blowing the smoke up in the air and holding the cigarette away from you by stretching his arms across the bench, humming softly as if taking a moment to think. "Nah"

You pulled back from his chest and gawked at him. "No? There'll be a sticky mess between my legs in the morning!"

He smirked at you, showing a sliver of his porcelain teeth as he did. "Tha's the point, lil' sinner, yer gonna be feelin' me fer days"

The nickname made you blush, turning your head away from the man as you also considered his words, a part of you wanted to feel and experience it all over again, almost arguably a divine slice of heaven itself, and you wanted to taste it once again.

"Well you should never commit a sin twice" You mumbled instead of your real thoughts, cheeks now starting to heat up from embarrassment and a bit of shame, Daryl's cock still buried inside you as a reminder of what you had just done, a reminder that the purity and sacrality you had been preserving for your future man had been completely stripped by another.

Unless, Daryl was your future man, clenching down around him as he took another drag of his cigarette, placing a hand back over your now-covered hip, traveling up to your waist, and squeezing the flesh there. He wasn't the God-fearing, clear-minded, faithful man you had dreamed about as a little girl. Still, he was the strong, protective, and leaderful man that you had dreamed about as a young woman, the man you dreamed of to provide for you and the home you built for another, to protect and preserve the family he's made.

His hand grazed your jaw, fingers caressing your cheek and tracing over the shape of your lips. With his gentle and soft touch, you could feel each blister and callous formed on his hands, the rough feeling of hard work against your skin causing goosebumps.

"Somethin' bad gon' happen ta' us?" He questioned, talking around an exhale of smoke as he did.

"We'll go to hell, Daryl!" You rolled your eyes at him.

He lazily shrugged a shoulder, staring at you with searching eyes. "We'll go together"

Your mouth gaped at his words, stammering as you struggled to find your own. "W– Well I'd much rather prefer we go to heaven together"

"They not gon' let me in" Daryl scoffed slightly as he spoke.

"Not when you commit sins like lust, Mr. Tainted" You flicked his forehead, and he grumbled swatting your hand away, rubbing the reddening skin.

"Ain't my fault, Mrs. Holy, yer' dress leaves little ta' tha' imagination" He muttered, and your eyes widened at his words.

"Are you– My dress goes to my flipping ankles!" You picked up some of the pooled dingy fabric, tugging on it for emphasis.

Daryl shrugged again at that, his eyes now traveling the length of your body where you sat still in his lap. "Don' matter, ever since I saw tha' pretty lil' face I've wanted ta' see the rest of ya', 'nd I ain't disappointed"

You scoffed in disbelief, turning your head in an attempt to hide the heat rising to your face, speaking in a hushed whisper. "My gosh, you speak such foul words in such a sacred place"

"We jus' fucked" Daryl said bluntly, taking another drag from his cigarette as he watched you snap your neck back to him, mouth slightly agape as you scrambled for words. "Y– Yes. But, that doesn't mean you have to talk like that in God's house"

At that, Daryl's cock twitched inside you, a smirk taking over his lips "Ya' said tha' same thing before m'tongue was down yer' throat"

"Daryl!" You hissed, the man chuckling as he gripped your hip and moved to kiss at your already marked-up neck, the weight of your faith starting to weigh heavy as you felt Daryl's cock hardening to life against your walls. "Fornication is straight up breaking the laws of God. We can't– I can't do this again"

The smell of cigarettes and sex painted the church air as you planted both hands on Daryl's chest, pushing yourself up and slowly off his dick with a restrained groan, turning into a sharp gasp when the elder pulled you back down, flush against him.

"Think fornica-whatever s'allot more than jus' sex, 'cause I don' have a problem makin' ya' mines" Daryl mumbled the words into your hair, holding you to his chest with one arm and stubbing out his cigarette in the wooden bench with the other. "God can't stop me from wantin' ya', can he?"

"He can, if you don't truly want me" You muttered into his shirt, and could feel the rumble of his short laughter through his stomach. "'S'good tha' I've wanted ya' fer a while then"

You sighed as you pushed yourself up to meet his gaze, eyes sharp and focused on yours as you moved. "It's more than just want, marriage is a life-long commitment, spiritual and eternal, it's about your faithfulness and loyalty to the person you love, the person you wanna become one body with, share your body with. That's why it's important to save yourself for marriage, to keep yourself pure and clean for the one you want to share it with"

"Aren't we one righ' now?"

"I– I mean– yes, but n– not in the way God intended for us to be–"

"–Why? 'Cause we ain't married? Pretty stupid if yer' askin' me"

He took your left hand in his, bring it up to his lips and placing soft kisses on your delicate fingers, lips lingering against your ring finger.

"Don' need no God ta' tell m'tha' I do or don' love ya', 'cause I know I do, dammit woman, loved ya' since I met ya' on yer' daddy's farm" Daryl scoffed as he finally spoke his feelings into the air, listening to himself and how ridiculous he sounded.

You listened intently, staring at him with glossy eyes as he spoke, your lips twitching and tugging into a tiny smile.

A provider, a protector, a man, a real man, was what Daryl Dixon was, the type of man that you thought could only ever exist in your head and bible, yet here he was, clinging to you and holding you close to him, pressed tightly against and in you, so tight that it felt like you'd just melt right into him at any second, his heart beating erratically in his chest, so much that you could feel it against the beat of your own heart.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" You whispered, watching how Daryl's eyes shifted away from yours in the embarrassed way that they always did. "Tell me!"

The man grumbled as you grabbed his face and shook his head, forcing his gaze back on you as he pulled your hands away with his, dropping them down to his chest and holding them there. "I didn' think ya'd want someone like me"

"What? Someone unholy?" You tilted your head slightly at him.

He shook his head, fingers squeezing your wrists. "Someone damaged"

"Damaged? You aren't damaged, Daryl. You're just tainted" You furrowed your brows, frowning slightly at his words.

"Ya' always say tha'" He mumbled, and you sighed. "Because there's no other way for me to put it. You're just a corrupted soul, but that doesn't mean you're a bad person"

He stared at you, licking his lips as he looked at your own, his cock twitching back to life again. "Even if I wanna corrupt ya' too?"

"And how exactly would you do that?" You laughed, but couldn't ignore the heat starting to pool in your gut, feeling a familiar buzz in your fingertips as Daryl ran his hands up your thigh, bunching the fabric of your dress all the up past your tits, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as the cold air hit them, the older man pulling you close and popping one of your tender nipples into his mouth, rocking his hips to full hardness. "M'gonna slut ya' out, pretty girl. Gonna turn ya' into my sweet lil' sinner, a little holy fuckdoll"

"I'm not a sex toy" You whined as he dragged his tongue across your boobs, involuntarily clenching around him as you tried to defend yourself, but Daryl laughed lowly as he trailed his lips up to the skin of your neck, kissing his way up to your ear and taking the lobe between his teeth. "Not yet, gorgeous, not yet"

GUYS. GUYS I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS I SWEAR.

I can't believe its done??? I've snipped so many snippets, cut so much out, stared at it for so long, and now its done (after a few decades) so I hope that everyone who I hyped up for this fic was satisfied and it was everything that I had made it out to be

Anyways this fic wouldn't have even existed without @tylermaxxine the local instigator and chronic coffee chugger

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menagerofmischief · 3 months ago

Note

Ask and you shall receive!!! With nico rosberg

Stuffed cherry tomatoes served cold with fish and chips, chicken quesillda, and spring rolls. Drinks are ice tea, black coffee, and iced water.

Have fun!! 😉

Dia's Diner Menu

stuffed cherry tomatoes sugar daddy cold appetizer rough sex fish and chips "Where are your manners" chicken quesadilla "So pretty with my cock down your throat" spring rolls "All you do is complain, perhaps I should shut you up" ice tea oral black coffee chocking iced water dirty talk

Nico Rosberg x sugar baby!reader

TW: blowjob, mean-ish!nico at the start, gagging, chocking, hair pulling

WC: 1k

A/N: nico rosberg, my favorite pop queen <3. this is actually so bad, I hate it but I'm mentally drained and this was the best I could do. also I added lance, arthur and mick to the menu if anyone is interested in requesting for them.

The whole car ride home was unsettlingly quiet. Nico was mad, I knew it. His hands gripping the steering wheel as he sped through the busy city traffic, passing cars like he was still on the track.

“Nico,” I said his name, trying to break the silence we had fallen into.

His head snapped towards me, his eyes narrowed and he gave me a look that conveyed what he wanted to say rather clearly. Stop talking.

I shut my mouth and tried to lean back into the seat of the car, knowing that we were going to be home soon and how things would go once we got there.

Soon enough we made it up to our, or rather Nico’s, penthouse. The moment the doors were shut, Nico grabbed me and pushed me against the door.

“What was that, huh?” He asked, his voice rough. One of his hands trailed up my body and wrapped around my neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. Not enough to stop my breathing, but enough to put pressure. “Is that how I taught you to behave?”

I did my best to shake my head, my cheeks warm. “No,” I said, the word coming out as a whisper.

Nico’s eyes fixated on mine, his pupils blown wide, and desire and lust clear in his gaze. He removed his hand from my neck and I immediately sucked in a breath. Nico moved his hands down and the sound of him unbuckling his belt filled the room.

I knew the rules we played by, I should have already been getting on my knees, desperate and wide eyed and asking to pretty please, suck his dick. But my mind was blank, my eyes focused on the way his hands moved as he opened his jeans and pulled them down. On the bulge in his black boxers, on how he took them of and on his semi-hard cock.

I snapped out of my trance once Nico’s hands were on my shoulders. Without a warning he pushed me down, making my knees hit the floor. I hissed at the contact, the tiles cold and digging into my naked skin.

I whined, looking up at him through my lashes. “You pushed me,” I said, pouting my lips. “That’s mean, Nico. You could have bruised my knees.”

I was going to keep talking but Nico grabbed my chin roughly, towering over me and looked down into my eyes. “All you do is complain,” he said, the tone of his voice dark. “Perhaps I should shut you up.”

With one hand he grabbed ahold of his dick, giving himself a few tugs and growing harder before slapping the tip against my lips. When I noticed him about to do it again, I opened my mouth, hoping that the tip would just slip right in but instead he grabbed my hair and tugged my head back.

“You really are acting like a dumb little whore tonight,” Nico said. “Where are you manners, huh?”

I whined, looking up at him, one of my hands braced against his thigh. “Please,” I said, my voice giving away how desperate I felt. “Please let me suck your cock. I need to feel it in my mouth.”

Nico humed, satisfied with my response. His hold on my hair eased up and he placed his hands against the back of my head. Not pushing me, just giving me the sensation of knowing he’s there.

As soon as he nods his head, I’m surging forward. My lips wrap around the tip, suckling on it and running my tongue over the slit to collect some of the precum that had started leaking. Nico groaned at the feeling, his hand pushing my head further, forcing me take him deeper into my mouth until the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat.

He held my head there for a moment and I gagged around his length, providing the additional sensation of my throat tightening which made him moan. His hand moved away and he let me start working at my own pace.

I started bobbing my head, trying to take him all the way every time my lips glided along his dick, hollowing my cheeks and running my tongue along the vein that was on the underside of his cock.

“Fuck, there we go.” Nico said with a groan. “My pretty little slut, sucking me off so well. You look so pretty with my cock down your throat, baby.”

Nico moved one of his hands to my neck and wrapped it around my throat just as I was moving down his shaft. He laughed, the sound mixed with a moan of pleasure, and it sounded beautiful. “I can feel my dick sliding down your throat,” he said, his hand staying where it was placed. “God, your mouth feels like heaven. Keep going, baby, I’m almost there.”

That made me speed up, bobbing my head faster and doubling my efforts to make him cum. Nico’s fingers gripped my hair and that was all the warning I got before he was twitching inside of my mouth and shooting his load down my throat.

I pulled off him with a pop, the taste of his cum salty against my tongue. Without as much as a second thought I swallowed everything inside of my mouth, sticking my tongue out proudly and looking up at Nico to show him.

He smiled down at me, his cheeks flushed and mouth open as he panted, trying to catch his breath. One of his hands came to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking my skin. “Good girl, baby,” he said. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

Nico helped me up and pulled me into a messy, passionate kiss. He lifted me up into his arms, making me giggle and started making his way towards the bedroom. “Now, how about I give my good girl a little reward?”

#f1 fic #dia's diner #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x you #nico rosberg #nico rosberg x reader #nico rosberg smut #nico rosberg imagine #nico rosberg x you #nico rosberg fluff #nr6 #nr6 x reader #brocedes

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suzukiblu · 3 months ago

Text

. . . anyway LISTEN I told 'yall November was gonna be "obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU" month, and I really did not INTEND to post my daily words for it again this year but also, like, fuck it, we ball. No promises I will update EVERY day this time around but again: fuck it, we ball. ( also uhhhhh I've been writing this fic kinda-sorta-semi out of order lately but there is still a significant chunk of word count I'd already written that I would've pre-gamed and posted YESTERDAY if I'd thought I was gonna be doing this, sooooo hope nobody minds us kickin' off the month with like an extra 5.9k on top of the 1.6k of obligatory sugar that I ACTUALLY wrote today behind this here cut? yes? no?? Bueller???? )

get sugared, Super-boytoy. Tim, you just . . . you just do your future-supervillain best over there, buddy. you just do what you can with yourself. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I wanted to,” Tim says again, and Kon glances away and bites his lip, turning the flowers by the stem again.

“It’s, uh–pretty,” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, it’s–cool. Thanks.”

“If I can’t bring you fresh ones, well . . .” Tim shrugs. Kon glances back to him, and very briefly presses one of the orchid blooms against his own mouth. His face is still all flushed and his eyes are still a little soft, and it’s . . . it makes a picture, alright, even if it's not one Tim's specifically set up to take. Especially with the gold eyeliner and his blue eyes both matching the orchids.

Tim didn't plan that, obviously, but he thinks it makes up for the sapphire versus ruby thing.

“Um . . .” Kon trails off, biting his lip. Glances down at the orchids from under his lashes. It doesn't make him any less of a picture, for sure. “So, um–do you wanna see the ‘something nice’ I got?”

Tim blinks, immediately thinks of the most embarrassing option that Kon could possibly mean, and desperately tries to fight back a mortified flush at the idea. But, well–everything he can see Kon wearing is something he remembers buying him already, so . . .

Oh god, he needs his brain to shut up right now. Immediately. Right now and immediately and forever.

“Sure,” he says like a normal person, trying not to panic. “What is it?”

Kon, thank god, pulls a little rectangular package inexplicably–and inexpertly–wrapped in newspaper comics out of the same coat pocket he tucked the jewelry box in. There's plain white string tied around it in a bow.

Tim . . . blinks.

If he didn't know better, he'd think Kon had . . .

“I, um, got you something?” Kon says, and Tim stares blankly at the package. He–what? “For once, anyway. Well, I guess, uh, technically you got it for yourself, and actually this is kinda stupid maybe, you can literally just get yourself whatever you want whenever, obviously, but I just thought, uh–”

“You got me something?” Tim repeats in surprise. Kon turns pink and shoves the package at him. Tim is too bewildered not to take it.

“I thought it’d be, uh–fun,” he says, biting his lip and still very visibly blushing. “I mean–that we could have some fun with it. Y’know?”

Tim stares at the package for another moment, then looks up at Kon. Alright, this maybe isn’t exactly the vibe he was going for here in terms of who’s paying for what and who’s giving things to who, but . . . well, Kon apparently used his allowance for whatever this is, at least, which gives him a reason to have wanted the allowance, so . . . he can work with that, he figures. Like, it’s an “in” to work from; a step in the process.

He can’t tell what Kon’s gotten him from the shape of the package, though the edges are hard even though it doesn’t feel like it’s in a box or anything. “Have some fun” isn’t much of a clue, though he supposes it does imply something interactive. Maybe it’s a game of some kind, or–

Tim unties the bow and splits apart the clumsy seam of the comic-page wrapping paper with his thumb, tugging through its layers to reveal the package’s contents, and Kon flushes a little darker and watches him just a little bit nervously.

Tim doesn’t actually know what to say.

“I just thought, um, a real one’d probably take better pictures than a phone can,” Kon says sheepishly, slanting his eyes away and half-hiding his face behind the orchids. “I made sure the battery was charged and the guy at the store said it's got a lot of storage, I guess, so . . .”

“You got me a camera,” Tim says blankly, which is the most bewildering possible thing that Kon could have gotten him short of, like . . . no, it’s pretty much just the most bewildering possible thing that Kon could have gotten him. By far it’s the most bewildering possible thing that Kon could have gotten him.

“You like taking pictures, right?” Kon fidgets a little, then smiles just barely shyly as he glances back at him. Tim's heart skips a few beats. Or more than just “a few”, maybe. “So, um–I thought maybe we could go do that . . . somewhere. You know, after dinner.”

“Oh,” Tim says, blinking at him a little stupidly. It’s not a particularly good camera, honestly–like, it’s a perfectly functional model for casual amateur use and a decently reliable commercial brand, but he’s got much better ones that are all professional-quality. He hasn’t used any of them in a while and most of them are admittedly a few years old now, but . . . yeah, this was a hundred bucks max, if that, and his cheapest camera was over five hundred.

Note to self: raise Kon’s allowance.

Also, apparently now his favorite camera is the kind of camera civilian amateurs just take random family photos on. Apparently that’s a thing.

Tim really doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that Kon not only remembered something he mentioned having an interest in, Kon bothered to actually get him something he thought he’d have an interest in. That is really, really not the dynamic he’s been encouraging here, for one thing. And also, why even would Kon do that? Like–really?

“Thanks,” Tim says sincerely, turning the camera over in his hands and feeling incredibly embarrassed about all of this. “I love it.”

“Cool,” Kon says, biting his lip around a smile. His face is still a little pink and he looks all soft and pretty like that, especially with the flowers still in his hand. Tim really was not prepared for Kon having “soft and pretty” in his repertoire. Like, that was not a thing he ever expected to see from his cocky, crowing brawler of a teammate.

Kon’s only a brawler because he thinks he’s supposed to be, though, Tim’s pretty sure. Like–increasingly sure, at this point.

He really, really needs to figure out how to get Kon to tell Robin more about his TTK. Or, like . . . anything about it, apparently. Just literally any single thing, at this point.

“Thank you,” he says again, inspecting the camera assessingly and making note of all its functions and ports and the generally obvious basics. “We could go take some shots around downtown later, if you’re up for that?”

Kon turns bright red, and Tim doesn’t understand for about half a second before remembering–the last time Kon had talked to him about taking pictures, he’d offered . . .

Oh Jesus.

Tim is either incredibly stupid or–actually, he doesn’t even know. Lucky? Embarrassing? The dumbest moron alive who didn’t even realize he was being flirted with again? All those things and several even worse ones?

Kon had offered to let him take spicy pics of him the last time they'd talked about taking pictures, whatever “spicy” means to Kon–brash, impulsive, shameless Kon–and Tim’s the idiot whose first thought upon Kon following up that conversation by very literally giving him a camera was to go take pictures of fucking downtown.

He is the most useless “sugar daddy” to ever sugar.

Well, to be fair, it is Gotham downtown, so it’s very–

“I like taking pictures of streets and buildings,” he blurts belatedly, fumbling to sound like just the oblivious idiot that he is and not some kind of weird fucking perv who’s trying to get Kon arrested for public indecency. Jesus, he’s stupid. “And people-watching is interesting too. You know, stuff like that.”

“Oh,” Kon says, and looks several ways at once, including both a little relieved and a little disheartened, which . . . okay, Tim would literally die if they actually went somewhere to take spicy pics tonight, so is unfortunately unavoidable. He’s not trying to make Kon not feel–attractive or anything, but he needs at least twenty-four hours to make a plan and also two or three or seventeen contingency plans before . . . anything like that happens. Ever. Even in theory. “Um–yeah, sure. That sounds cool.”

“Cool,” Tim says, still desperately pretending to be an idiot. It’s not hard, on account of the fact that he very much is an idiot.

Kon pauses for a moment, then perks up a little, seeming to think of something, and asks–“When’s dinner?”

“Our reservation’s in forty-five minutes,” Tim says, double-checking the time on his phone just to be sure. “Well, forty-six. I figured that’d let us take our time walking over and maybe we could window-shop a little on the way.”

And also shop-shop a lot, if Kon gives him literally even the slightest indication that he wants or needs something. Just if it comes up or anything. That’s all.

Tim definitely did plan their route to the restaurant to cut straight through the middle of the downtown shopping district, either way.

“We could’ve just met there, dude,” Kon says wryly, but grins anyway, glancing down at the orchids in his hand again. “Forty-six minutes, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tim confirms.

“And you like taking pictures of streets and buildings?” Kon asks, his grin turning just a little bit sly. Tim frowns briefly in confusion, not sure what the grin’s about.

“Yeah,” he says. “Gotham has a lot of really interesting architecture and design. Like, it’s an old city, and one that’s been pretty resistant to updates in a lot of areas or just not had the money for those updates. So you get a lot of places with a lot of character and it’s basically the bastard child of gothic and art deco design with a side of industrial warehouse, depending on the part of town you’re in. Like, Crime Alley and the Diamond District have very different vibes, but they’re both very Gotham vibes, if you know what to look for. It’s–”

Kon is grinning really widely at him, for some reason. Tim realizes he’s rambling like a moron and turns red.

“Uh,” he says, repressing a wince. “Yes. Yeah. I like taking pictures of streets and buildings.”

“Cool,” Kon says, and then he carefully packs the orchids back into their box and it back into the gift bag and transfers the chocolates and jewelry back into it too, then grins even wider at him as he hooks the bag’s handles over his arm and into the crook of his elbow. “Don’t drop the camera, babe.”

“Wha–” Tim starts to say, and then Kon grabs him by the arm and pulls him into the closest alley, which is terrible survival instincts for Gotham, oh god, but before Tim can say anything about that Kon’s wrapped an arm around his waist just tight enough to just barely lift him off his feet and bolted straight up into the air with him. “Shit!”

Tim doesn’t drop the camera because he’s held onto cameras while falling off literal buildings before, but definitely only because of that. Muscle memory, or whatever. Also he’s been snatched off his feet by Bruce and Dick plenty of times and thrown off rooftops by multiple rogues and thugs over the years and these days gets regularly dragged around by Bart, all while holding very important things he could not afford to drop, so it’s not like either the sudden jolt or the effort to keep his grip on the camera are as disorienting as it otherwise would be. Just . . .

Ugh, Tim realizes, absolutely unimpressed with himself upon realizing that the breathless feeling he’s having right now is not actually related to the swift and sudden increase in altitude, but is actually just because it’s Kon holding him.

He is an idiot, isn’t he, he reflects resignedly. Just an actual literal idiot.

Jesus.

“Whatcha think?” Kon asks with a grin as he comes to a stop in mid-air with him. He stops very suddenly, but Tim notices a distinct lack of jarring with said stop, which implies Kon’s got his TTK around him again and probably completely around him, which means–

Oh god, Tim thinks, and very quickly makes himself stop thinking about that.

“It’s cool,” he says, because a normal civilian would think flying was something interesting and unusual, but it’s hard to act too excited about a move Kon probably pulls on literally everyone he–

“I meant the view, babe!” Kon says with a laugh, and Tim . . . blinks.

And then he looks down.

They’re hovering a few thousand feet up, and downtown is already lit up bright in the early evening gloom. And Kon . . .

“Streets and buildings, as ordered,” Kon says, grinning wider with a smug, cocky look on his face.

Oh no, he’s hot, Tim realizes with dread, and then blinks again. Stares down at the city below, past the whipping wind and down into the busy streets and the bright, dazzling lights cutting through the murky gloom. He’s seen Gotham like this a thousand times, obviously, because of course he has–he’s been climbing these rooftops for years, and every night he runs across and swings back and forth between them and utterly fails to learn how to do more than a double backflip.

One day, he promises himself distractedly, and then looks back at Kon.

He’s seen Gotham like this a thousand times, but never just because someone thought he’d like it. Like–not like this, he means. Dick's shown him a few particularly special or exhilarating views over the years, yeah, but . . . definitely not like this. Not for a reason like this.

And definitely not while peacocking all smug and pretty dressed up in clothes that he bought him and holding him close enough to kiss.

Kon’s expression turns a little sheepish; a little soft. Not quite shy, but . . .

“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice pitched a little quieter, and Tim has the much worse and even more dread-inducing realization of oh no, he’s CUTE.

He swallows, briefly, and feels his face burn.

“Yeah,” he manages in an almost-normal voice. “I like it.”

Kon grins at him, brighter than any city light, and Tim barely keeps himself from dropping the camera after all.

“Thanks,” he attempts awkwardly, making himself focus on the camera and resisting the urge to take an immediate shot of that city-light grin.

Then he takes one anyway, because of course he does. Kon laughs in surprise, then makes a face at him teasingly.

“Hey, you can buy this face in any cheap gossip rag, focus on the fun stuff,” he jokes, jerking his head towards the city below. Tim looks searchingly at him for a moment, and then for obvious reasons snaps another picture. Kon flushes a little again. They probably won't even come out from this close, but . . .

“You’re the most fun I’ve had all week,” Tim says, which is definitely too honest but clearly necessary to make a point of saying. Kon turns redder, ducking his head and grinning around his bitten lip.

“You don’t have to say that kind of thing to me, man,” he says, and it comes across almost like a reflex. Tim hates . . . yeah, just literally everybody Kon’s ever known in his whole entire life, actually? Like, pretty much everybody? Bart gets a break because he grew up alone in VR and is therefore terrible with people and the girls get a break because they haven’t known any of them that long, but everybody else can just take a long walk off a short gutter, in Tim’s opinion.

Especially any “everybody” from Cadmus.

Or Metropolis, at this point.

“I’m not saying anything I don’t want to say,” he says simply, and goes to the effort to frame a few shots of the skyline so Kon will know he appreciates . . . well, not the angle, exactly, but the thought.

Technically he is usually on top of a building when he’s doing this, so the angle is actually a slightly different one than he’s used to–not that he’s been taking photos lately, just–not the point, really. Kon got him a camera and brought him up here because he clearly thought he’d like it, and damned if Tim is gonna do anything to make him think he doesn’t.

He has better cameras for things like this–aerial shots and night photography and long-distance and the like, and better cameras for closeup candids too–but he already knows these pictures are all going to be exactly what he wants them to be, even the ones that don't come out.

Or especially those, maybe.

He's not sure how he'd explain that feeling to someone else.

Kon flies them around, staying out of sight behind the light pollution and among the shadows of the buildings, and Tim takes . . . a lot more pictures than he needs to, actually. He was just trying to make sure Kon knew he appreciated him thinking of him, but actually . . .

Well.

It’s fun, that’s all.

It’s . . . been a while, kinda, since he got to spend this much time on just photography and nothing else. Or–any time at all, really.

Not that this is nothing else, obviously, given that Kon’s holding him and it is very, very hard to concentrate on anything besides that, but it is the kind of a view a standard civilian never gets, and it’s kind of nice to be flying for non-work-related reasons, for once. Like . . . novel, he guesses. A different experience.

Technically he and Dick do “fly” together just for fun, sometimes, but that’s different. Like–so many kinds of different. It helps them in their work–keeps the rooftops familiar and them both in shape and in sync–but he can’t take photos when he’s trying to keep up with Nightwing across the rooftops of Gotham, and it’s not like Dick’s carrying him either.

Also, it’s much less flustering and difficult to concentrate through, because again, Dick is not carrying him, and also Dick doesn’t do things like wear clothes he bought or do his eyeliner and paint his nails for him. Or, uh . . . anything like that.

Also, definitely the “spicy pics” thing is not at all a thing, with Dick. Like, not even slightly, in any way whatsoever. And they’ve also never made out in a changing room or the back of a planetarium or–

Look, there’s a lot of ways it’s different, okay?

A lot of ways.

“I'm not boring you, am I?” Tim asks a little bit sheepishly as Kon lands them on a ledge just behind one of the bigger gargoyles, tucked in tight in the shadows between it and the building it's perched on. “We can probably still fit in some window-shopping before dinner, if you want.”

“Oh my god, dude, I promise we can do things you don't have to spend money on,” Kon says with a laugh as he lets him down on the ledge. “Though if it helps you technically did spend money on this, given how I got the camera and all.”

“It's your allowance,” Tim says, because he wants to make sure Kon actually gets that. “You can spend it however you want.”

“Well, I spent it how I wanted,” Kon says, and then steps closer into his space with a smile. Tim ends up sitting on the gargoyle’s back as Kon leans down to kiss him, and it's not like he's never kissed anyone while perched on a gargoyle before, but somehow it feels like something new anyway. New and electric, bright and easy and smeared with the city lights and thrilling in its shadows, and–

Kon breaks off the kiss, though he keeps a hand on Tim’s arm, probably to make sure the squishy untrained civilian won't accidentally fall off the ledge and get splatted on the concrete. Tim barely holds himself back from chasing his mouth.

“It's cool, anyway. Um, doing stuff you're into with you, I mean,” Kon says, looking a little soft and almost-shy again, and never mind, Tim not only needs to chase his mouth, he needs to set up a damn manhunt for it. “You're real cute when you get excited, man. I mean, uh–just–”

The manhunt is going to require a very significant budget, Tim notes.

Then he kisses him again, obviously. Kon melts down into it–into him, really–and wraps his arms around his neck, and Tim feels several kind of ways about it. Admittedly, it's the easier option with him sitting on the gargoyle and Kon leaning over him, but Kon's put his arms around his neck a couple of times now, and, well . . .

That's just not something he would've expected from him, he guesses. Not “cool” or masculine or badass or . . . whatever, exactly, Kon thinks he's supposed to be.

So Tim . . . likes it, he thinks, that Kon doesn't seem to think he needs to be like that around Tim Drake.

Robin’s sure as hell never seen Kon in eyeliner.

Robin's loss, Tim thinks.

. . . maybe he's compartmentalizing a little too much these days, but still.

Kon makes a very, very soft little sound between their mouths and then laughs, and Tim promises himself he won't stop at Gotham: he'll take over Metropolis for this asshole one day. Even if that means putting up with Lex Luthor and Superman. And also, like . . . everything about Metropolis.

He'll figure it out. Supervillainy is still a long-term plan, so he's got time.

Anyway, if he gives it to Kon after he takes it over he won't have to put up with it, so it's whatever. Sugar daddies do that kind of thing, right? Get their sugar-ees a city?

. . . okay, definitely not. Like, very definitely not.

“Okay date idea, then?” Kon asks as he leans back a bit and does a very bad job of biting back a smile, his face a little flushed and arms squeezing a little tighter around his neck.

Tim will get him Metropolis if it kills Lex Luthor.

“Very okay,” he says, smiling back at him. Kon grins, his face turning just a little bit redder, and then kisses him again. Tim has absolutely no complaints about that. Ever. He can’t even imagine a complaint he’d have about that, in fact.

Worst case scenario, he’ll get them in at another restaurant if they miss their reservation.

He really doesn't know what else he's supposed to do about how easy Kon blushes.

They definitely spend too long making out against the gargoyle and Tim definitely lets himself get too riled up during it–and does not think about tactile telekinesis or any kind of related passive perception while he does–but by the time he’s the one pressing Kon back against the building, he really doesn’t care anymore.

The fact Kon is even willing to let him do that when there is literally no way Tim could ever actually pin him anywhere without a way to sabotage his powers is . . . really, really distracting. Just–so distracting.

Jesus, Tim thinks, breaking off just long enough to catch his breath for a moment. Kon pants softly against his mouth, which sabotages that even worse than kryptonite would sabotage TTK.

Jesus, Tim thinks again, and then crushes their mouths back together.

He doesn’t need to breathe that often.

Kon makes a softer, breathier sound this time, and Tim does not let himself make it weird by letting his hands wander anywhere outside of second base territory. Frankly he’s not sure second base territory isn’t him making it weird, but Kon started it, so hopefully it’s not? Like–logically it’d follow that Kon wouldn’t touch him anywhere he doesn’t want touched, right?

Well–hopefully, anyway.

The air feels tight, Tim notices suddenly, like the feeling of sinking into deeper pressure when underwater but all at once, and then realizes–oh.

Uh.

Okay.

“Um,” he says, and immediately the feeling of pressure vanishes as Kon jerks back and claps a hand over his own mouth. Which is mostly him pushing Tim back, given their position, but he does crack the brickwork behind him a little.

Whoops, Tim thinks.

“Sorry!” Kon blurts. “Sorry, sorry, that’s–sorry! I just, uh–got a little too into it. I won’t do it again.”

“It’s really not a problem,” Tim says, with absolutely no idea how to take the idea of Kon getting “a little too into it” when kissing him, or the idea that getting a little too into it apparently involves getting wrapped up in TTK a lot more noticeably than making him bulletproof at the museum did. “I mean–it didn’t hurt or anything, I was just surprised.”

“I–yeah, I know, it’s just–weird,” Kon says, still looking mortified. “So–sorry. That’s all.”

“I don’t mind weird,” Tim says, because actually the idea of being temporarily at least as invulnerable as Kon is while making out with him implies being able to devote a lot more attention to said making out, as opposed to keeping half an eye out for snipers or rogues or random rooftop criminals. Not that he’d stop paying any attention to that, obviously, just–yeah. Well.

It’s a little tempting, that’s all.

“Uh–you don’t?” Kon bites his lip, still looking a little embarrassed.

“It kind of just felt like scuba-diving, but with less equipment involved,” Tim says with a little shrug, keeping his tone light because “seriously, you have no idea how much I’d like to not be compulsively keeping an eye out for snipers right now” isn’t a very “civilian” thing to say. “And I’m not about to complain about you enjoying kissing me that much either way.”

“Oh,” Kon says, and flushes a little. “Uh–really?”

“Really,” Tim says, smiling at him again and tugging gently at the lapels of his jacket to pull himself back in. Kon blushes, and grins, and meets him halfway for the kiss. The sensation of pressure wraps him up again, gentle but undeniable, and Tim feels several kinds of ways about it.

Maybe even a little bit safe, or at least as safe as anyplace outside the Batcave ever gets.

Tim knows there’s no such thing as being perfectly, completely safe, but getting all wrapped up in Kon’s TTK and kissed for it makes it hard to remember that.

Very, very hard.

They spend a much longer time making out this time. Tim is vaguely aware that they still have a dinner reservation to make, but . . . well, he did pad the time to allow for window-shopping, so even with the time they spent flying around taking pictures, it's probably fine?

Yeah, no, they’ve definitely missed their reservation by now. Probably way past missed it. Just so, so far past missed it.

Weirdly, Tim doesn’t care as much as he should, even though he really prefers when things go to plan and also needs Kon to feel appreciated and like he got properly spoiled and taken someplace nice. He’s going to have to figure out something else on the fly, though, because he really does needs Kon to feel appreciated and also needs the excuse to get him more used to getting money spent on him and–

Tim remembers that he needs to breathe more than he's currently breathing and breaks off the kiss. Kon half-chases his mouth with his own, audibly breathless himself. Tim is not equipped to handle Kon breathless.

That might actually be more flattering than the TTK thing. Or, uh–flustering, maybe.

Both, maybe. “Both” is probably accurate here.

Jesus, Tim does not know what he did to deserve Kon getting breathless over something he’s done to him, much less all soft and pretty and–

They have definitely, definitely missed their reservation. Usually Tim has a better sense of time than that, but usually Tim doesn’t have Kon wanting to make out on a Gotham rooftop with him, Like, he thinks he can forgive himself a little bit of disorientation on that one, considering.

. . . as long as Bruce never finds out he messed up that bad, anyway. Because Bruce would definitely not like hearing he’d messed up that bad, TTK or not.

Probably especially involving the TTK, actually. Probably Bruce would not take “yeah I let Superboy get distracted enough to unconsciously wrap me up in his Kryptonian-level superpowers while he wasn’t in full control of them and actually, like, encouraged it, kinda? like, explicitly encouraged it, actually”.

Yeah, Bruce would not like that.

“Um,” Tim says, and clears his throat a little awkwardly. “So, uh–hungry yet?”

“You could say that,” Kon murmurs, then flashes him a sharp, wicked grin with his eyes slit open just enough to fix on Tim’s mouth. Tim spares a moment to compartmentalize just enough to not lose his mind about that, then makes the mistake of licking his lips anxiously, sees Kon’s hooded eyes go hot at the sight, and immediately fails to not lose his mind.

“Uh,” he manages, and then decides they don’t really need to get dinner just yet and maybe they could just, like–no, no, Kon is definitely not getting enough calories from that stupid barely-legal underground lab’s stupid definitely-not-health-code-compliant cafeteria, Tim is not gonna be a bad enough date to not get his date a respectable amount of calories. That is just not a thing that he’s gonna, like . . . thing, as a thing. Or whatever.

Not like Superman’s been bringing Kon casseroles or anything, the prick.

“Um, I–uh, might’ve let us get a little too distracted, sorry,” Tim attempts after a moment of mental fumbling, making himself push back from Kon a little and pulling his phone out to check the time. Yeah, they have definitely missed their reservation. Very, very thoroughly have they missed it.

Dammit. That is not Bat-quality situational awareness.

“You think that was just you, man?” Kon asks with a little laugh, just barely ducking his head and biting his lip. It is . . . very distracting. As is his face. And his hands, which are still loosely on Tim’s back, and his TTK, which is still loosely . . . basically everywhere, yeah. Just–way too many places for Tim to be rational about, basically.

“I mean, I was the one who made the reservation,” he says, clearing his throat awkwardly as he does his best to at least fake rationality. “So, uh, I should’ve been paying attention to the time. I can see if there’s someplace we can still slip in, it’s a little last-minute for a Friday but–”

Kon kisses him again.

Tim was saying something, he’s reasonably sure, but he couldn’t remember whatever it was with a gun to his head. A gun to his head while out of his suit and without Kon on the same floor as him, to be clear.

Kon leans back and grins at him, all bright and pretty and cutting right through the shade and shadows of Gotham like a spotlight-signal lighting up the cloud cover. Tim remains vaguely aware of the fact that he was doing . . . something. At some point. In theory.

God, Kon is so pretty. So, so pretty. And everything he’s wearing is something Tim bought him, coat and clothes and jewelry and all. Just–all of it, as far as he can see.

Tim does not let himself think about what else Kon might or might not be wearing right now. Just–that way lies madness, and also Kon not getting a decent dinner and decent spoiling.

. . . there’s probably some other ways Tim could spoil him, technically, if he just–

Tim does not finish that thought.

“You’re so fucking cute, daddy,” Kon says, still grinning just as signal-bright and pretty at him. Tim is not prepared for literally any of that and nearly melts right off the ledge into an incoherent mess of street pizza.

“Uh,” he says, swallowing roughly. “We should–are you hungry yet?”

Kon laughs, for some reason. Tim very quietly and carefully burns alive, and then Kon floats up a few inches and ducks around him and back out into the open air, leaning down to grin at him and reaching to–probably he’s intending to pick him up again, Tim’s brain is vaguely aware, but the rest of Tim is thinking more like hurr durr pretty boy, which is definitely why he ends up reaching up to cup Kon’s face in his hands and tug him down for another kiss, pushing himself up on his toes on the edge of the ledge to reach him easier. Kon makes a soft, breathless little noise, then laughs in delight and kisses him back.

The wind is cold and sharp and the evening sky is all heavy dark clouds and hazy light pollution and Kon’s wearing clothes Tim bought him, some of which Tim even suggested to him, and he put on makeup and painted his nails to come see him and he’s got a gift bag of little things Tim picked out for him hooked in the crook of his elbow and he liked all of those little things, and they’ve not only missed but obliterated their dinner reservation, and they’re half-on a ledge high above the street and kissing and Kon is just so pretty.

And Kon also bought him a camera and brought him up here because he thought he’d like it and called him “cute”, which are all facts that Tim is definitely going to have to compartmentalize to fully process later, or else he really will melt right off the stupid ledge.

The spicy pics thing, also, is a thing. The spicy pics thing is, uh–very much a thing.

Tim is maybe just never gonna process that particular fact in, like, self-defense.

Ever.

. . . god, he’s going to have to process that fact at some point, isn’t he. God. That is . . . that is a whole thing that he is going to have to do. Like, effectively and well and throughly.

Maybe it’s not too late to just go supervillain right now, actually. Maybe Kon would be open to, like, minionhood or something. Lots of supervillains put their minions up in their lairs, right? That’s totally a thing, isn’t it?

Ugh, no, Kon deserves a place he can really feel like is his place and also he has not laid near enough groundwork to get Dick to switch sides. Like, Alfred would, obviously. Alfred will be on-board the second the rusty crowbar and shrapnel bomb plan comes up and will probably have useful notes to add. But Dick is gonna require some more long-term finessing and Babs definitely won’t come if Dick doesn’t and–

Kon laughs into the kiss and cups Tim’s face in return, which is incredibly distracting, and then squishes his face, which is incredibly annoying.

“Hey!” Tim sputters, and Kon laughs again and leans back just enough to grin at him.

“You are so weird, dude,” he says. “I can literally hear you thinking.”

“. . . that’s not me being detached from the situation, I–” Tim starts, unable to repress a wince, and Kon just grins wider, grabs his wrists, and tugs him off the ledge and–oh, okay, that’s a weird sensation, Tim notes, because gravity does absolutely nothing at all to him until Kon’s pulled him into his arms and wrapped him up in them again all easy and secure. .

So that’s . . . yeah, no, “incredibly distracting” isn’t actually gonna cover this one, considering.

“Uh,” he says, blinking a couple of times. That. That is definitely not how Superboy holds Robin.

Frick.

“I just gotta keep you better attached, right, daddy?” Kon purrs–really purrs, his chest briefly vibrating against Tim’s–and then grins wider at him again with eyes that are, unfortunately, literally goddamn sparkling right now–thanks, gold eyeliner, Tim didn’t need those higher thought processes–before giving him another quick little kiss that Tim actually would like to turn into a four-hour make-out session and maybe also a sleepover and–

God he needs to remember how to compartmentalize. He really, really needs to remember how to compartmentalize.

Also he needs to kiss Kon’s literal friggin’ brains out, the smug friggin’ asshole.

Mid-air makeouts are the worst possible idea Kon has ever inflicted on him and Tim would sooner fight Killer Croc without his utility belt than point that fact out to him.

He winds his arms around Kon’s neck and kisses him back, and Kon makes this tiny little–not pleased, not content, but actually happy-sounding noise and kisses back harder. Tim feels gravity stop being a particularly relevant concern again and feels like he’s floating in deep, heavy water but also like he’s the lightest he’s ever been in his life, and it is . . . it is a feeling, alright.

Kon is a menace. Kon is a problem.

Kon is so, so damn cute.

“You are an actual literal brat, baby,” Tim mutters slightly more feelingly than he means to, and Kon’s laugh comes out a little breathier this time and he ducks his head to the side and his face flushes and–

No. Nope. No. Tim needs to not learn anything new about himself or Kon tonight, or, worse, anything about him and Kon. That is just not a thing he has time for in his schedule. He’s got to fit in an anxiety attack and three full files’ worth of casework this weekend, for one, plus his science presentation and that make-up book report, and also come up with someplace else nice enough to take Kon to dinner tonight.

“So, uh–dinner?” he says very quickly–self-defense, again–and Kon bites his lower lip and grins around it, his face still turned just a little bit away. Tim pretends they’re not effectively pressed together from knee to neck right now. Pretends valiantly. “I mean–um, if you’re hungry yet.”

Kon laughs, ducking his head lower, the dangling gold teardrop hanging from his ear gleaming warmly in the murky electric city light. Tim goes through multiple stages of emotional processing to keep himself from kissing his neck right behind that earring and completely forgetting about not only dinner, but all his homework and casework and even the anxiety attack.

Does Kon laugh this much around Robin?

Tim really doesn’t feel like he does.

He also doesn’t tell Robin very important things like the fact that he can make other people bulletproof on a whim and map out an entire mall just by standing in it, which is objectively much worse and potentially dangerous a thing not to do, but also Tim is already positive he’s going to miss that laugh like crazy every time he sees Kon with the mask on.

Robin doesn’t get to see Kon like this at all, even when he lets the asshole eat both stupid boxes of cinnamon bread.

“Dinner, yeah,” Kon says, grinning again and then taking off backwards across the sky, apparently unconcerned about their chances of hitting a building. Tim’s not really in a proper carry so much as just stretched out against him and wrapped up in his arms, but given the nature of how Kon’s powers work, an actual carry is obivously not really a concern, so . . .

Oh, Tim realizes as Kon tips back just enough to be reclining in the air, still flying without any apparent care or concern for the aerodynamics of the situation or anything but staying more or less out of view of anyone on the street below.

Avoiding the street view is good.

The part where now he’s essentially laying on top of Kon is . . . less good, maybe.

Maybe he won’t have to convince Kon to go supervillain, at least. Maybe Kon’s already there.

“Where to, daddy?” Kon asks with a smirk, keeping one arm looped around Tim’s waist and folding the other behind his own head like he’s laying out in a lounge chair on the beach. Tim thinks longingly of smothering him and also of getting him to take down his TTK so he could bite a hickey or five into his neck. Maybe six. He could probably do six.

Or seven.

“Northeast towards Broad Street,” Tim says as he tips his head in the appropriate direction, then pulls up the camera again and snaps a quick shot of Kon’s smug smirk, which immediately breaks into a surprised laugh as the other flushes again.

He takes a picture of that too.

“You flirtin’ again already, man?” Kon asks with a sheepish little laugh, like the bastard has any room to talk.

“The position’s pretty good for it, that’s all,” Tim says with a level of casualness he absolutely does not feel. Kon flushes darker and bites his lip again, still just barely grinning. Tim, ethically, has no choice but to take a few more pictures.

“Oh my god,” Kon says, laughing again and unfolding the arm he has tucked behind his head to hide his eyes behind instead. Tim is maybe a little bit too aware of the line of his throat under the neck of his shirt, without his eyes and the sparkle there to be distracting him into a useless stupid mushbrained might-as-well-be-a-civilian, observationally-speaking. “I’m not a building, you absolute nerd!”

“I said I liked people-watching too, didn’t I?” Tim points out reasonably, though mostly his brain’s occupied with the question of–“Hey. If you let down your TTK a bit, could a baseline-DNA human give you a hickey? Like, is that physically possible, or are you too Kryptonian for that?”

“Oh my god,” Kon repeats, laughing harder even as the flush on his face spreads down his neck. Tim wonders how warm that might feel under his mouth. “I, uh–dunno, man. Maybe?”

Tim silently resolves himself to finding literally any excuse to conduct that experiment and moves a hand to cup the side of Kon’s throat, eyeing it consideringly. Kon makes a slightly weird noise and visibly swallows, and Tim belatedly realizes that he’s paid literally no attention whatsoever to whether or not they’re about to hit a building or a flagpole or a roof this entire flight; he just assumed Kon had it handled. The Bat-paranoia kicks in and he glances up reflexively, and just as reflexively slides the pad of his thumb across Kon’s pulse. Their flight path is clear; they’re high enough to avoid most of the buildings in this area. Definitely still gonna need to keep an eye out for radio towers and billboards, but . . .

Kon swallows again, the gesture a little bit rough this time. Tim feels the other’s throat flex against his palm. That sure is . . . that sure is a thing that Tim feels right there. That invulnerable throat flexing right there against his palm, and maybe not necessarily having to be invulnerable, if Kon didn’t want it to be.

. . . . . . he already said he didn’t have time to learn anything new about himself tonight, dammit.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

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multch · 4 months ago

Text

Accident.

No outbreak! Joel Miller x Reader [18+] CW: Unspecified age gap \ touching \ suggestive content\ afab Reader

After a wardrobe malfunction at the beach, Mr Miller decides he’s gotten too close- enough is enough- but he couldn't have anticipated the constant teasing that would follow suit..

Sand, sun and some eye-candy, Nothing could be better than this!

Finally coming back home felt fantastic after months away at college. Not only would you get to crash on the much larger bed of your old room but you would also be around for the elaborate summer holidays your parents would take.

Your family was enthusiastic.. To say the least. They were always ecstatic when it came to organizing what annual ‘event’ they would host. You hoped it would be just a simple trip with you and your siblings like last year- maybe someplace where you wouldn’t have to suffer the sweltering heat waves that summer kept offering- Like England or Newzeland!

Unfortunately, your parents had something else in mind:

The beach.

With people you hardly know.

With THE Joel Miller practically babysitting you while they organize it.

Fuck.

Joel Miller has been a friend of both of your parents for a few years now. Having first met him as a helping hand while officially moving out of your parents’ house, he’s proven himself exceptionally helpful. You almost feel bad- You know your dad always makes sure he’s paid for his work, however; you felt like you, personally, had never thanked him properly.

Heck- You’d be happy to thank him quite thoroughly if you know what I mean…

You could never shake the thoughts you've had since you two first locked eyes. A simple gesture sparking many moons of passionate yearning. Thinking about his muscular arms, his sculpted face and the dark tone of his restless voice. Perhaps even the sounds it would make if your hands wandered achingly slow down his solid chest and towards his big, hard, throbbing…

You wish! Your little crush on him was absolutely trampled on 2 years ago by the sly comment you heard him tell your parents one night. Apparently he had started dating again- probably found someone already, afterall, it has been 2 years..

Still… you couldn’t help but wonder if a beach party could be your chance- maybe not to do.. anything… but you could at least muster up the courage to ask him if he's taken or not.

Right?

You felt butterflies in your stomach, swearing this was a make or break decision.

It took hours of pacing and rapid texting-the night before- but finally you had picked out the perfect bikini for tonight.

It was baby-blue in a gingham print. The bikini itself tied together on both hips and one in-between your breasts- joining in a dainty little bow you had spent ages worrying if it didn't look “effortless enough.” It was cute enough to be semi casual while being mature enough that your relatives wouldn't keep acting like you were an actual child.

You couldn’t help but second guess yourself… Was the effort really worth it? It's just a small get together after all, why would you need to impress anyone?…

Would you actually impress him?

Could you ever impress him?

In the blink of an eye, you gasped at the sudden grasp around your tits. Those hands were large and powerful. They were panicked- almost hesitant however he didn’t seem too keen on letting go. As the wave finished toppling over you two, Joel swiftly pulled you around to face him.

The sight was mouth watering.

Flushed bright red, Joel was quick to glare into your eyes- His were brimming with concern yet crystal clear with honesty and the determination to protect your honor. His hair was wet and sat tousled over his eyes. You couldn’t help but gaze at his bitten lip as he concentrated so deeply between the valley of your breasts- almost as if he was staring directly into your heart.

It thumped as if it were about to explode.

It might have taken you a few moments to realize but before you could react, Joel was already bent down and trying to re-tie the center string of your bikini top. Being so far out- the waves were ruthless. They crashed over the two of you like an avalanche.

It felt near impossible to keep your balance with Joel tugging you towards him- all the while, the moving sea pulling you-two away from shore.

Instinctively, your hands steadied yourself on Joel’s shoulders. A pink blush spread throughout your face as you began to realize how truly naked you were.

His tanned, bare shoulders were strong and toned from years of strenuous work in the blistering sun. Your exposed stomach fluttering with a flight of butterflies. The memory of his careful touch against a place so sensitive…

His motoring hands slowly came to a stop. As soon as he went to stand up, you quickly dropped your arms. Not knowing where to place them, your hands checked the tight bows around your hips. Luckily, it seemed like your bikini bottoms were secure; however, your top was another story.

The look you gave him was less than impressed…

“Shut up.” He growled without hesitance.

Oh.

It was painfully obvious he was embarrassed.

Cute, you thought.

You shot him back a sly smirk

For a man who spent so long hovering over your bust, his ability to tie the knot was sheepish. Joel had fixed a simple double knot, causing the remaining rope to dangle over your naval.

Letting out a quick sigh, you decided you had enough of the ocean for today. His eyes widened as he felt your brisk grasp on his arm- dragging him back to shore to the best of your ability.

Staring at your phone was useless. The mere thought of today's “incident” was enough to keep you running in circles. You sigh as you fall further into the plush cushions that lined the small sofa. Like many family functions, You've sought refuge in the same old fashioned living room. It was a cramped room tucked far within the back end of the house cluttered with old furniture. Fortunately, the abandoned room was silent compared to outside’s blaring ruckus. It was yours.

… at least, it was.

There in the door frame stood a familiar sight;

“Hey… can I speak to you,” Joel sighed, “about earlier today… I'm sorry for-”

“Groping me?” You snarked.

“God, give me a break would ‘ya,” His brows furrowed as his face slowly turned a light shade of pink, “It was either I did that or else you would’ve flashed everyone!”

For a moment, you get lost within the passionate emotion of his southern drawl. He’s so flustered; it almost seems as if he’s annoyed by you too. Maybe you were too calm? Maybe he was too embarrassed. Regardless, His outrage humored you more than you would like to admit- forcing a chuckle to erupt from within you.

“What? You think this is funny?” He spat- rolling his eyes.

"A little…”

…

The room sat still in deafening silence until…. “BAAHAHAHHAAHAAHAHA- oh my god, ok so maybe a lot,” you giggled, “I'm so sorry but really I don’t see why you care so much?”

Joel was practically fuming. Hot pink- he was humiliated “Get a grip!, damn you little-”

“Did you just tell me to get a grip? I would but it seems you’ve grabbed enough things today for the two of us-”

Before you had the chance to laugh, your eyes widened at the sight of the one and only Joel Miller rushing towards you with a salty smile and a couch pillow hurling towards you.

HWACK! You squealed at the sudden collision. Despite being a pillow, when punted hard enough at a victim, it proves itself as an effective weapon.

“GOT ‘YA!” He gasped- now standing over you. As you opened your eyes, they locked with his.

Your mouth sat smug, readying yourself for a moment to strike back. His eyes! it was for a brief moment yet you were lucky enough to catch them darting down to your lips.

Ha!

Your tactic: the element of surprise. When his gaze returned, it took all your power to summon the courage to muster out the question plastered across your heart for so long.

It was now or never, you assured.

“Jo- Mr Miller,” you stated, “this is so awkward but… I was wondering if you were in a relationship?”

“What's it to you?” He chuckled, shifting to rest his palm on the armrest beside you.

“I… um..” you tightened your grip on the pillow.

The look in his eyes was enough to tell you.

Fuck.

“Ah… shit.., look ‘sweetpea, y'know your daddy and I are buddies…” he tried telling you but he knew he couldn't steer you away.

“And? So what, I'm an adult,” You barked, “C'mon Joel- I really like you!”

The truth came bubbling out, you didn't expect to actually tell him. Not tonight. Not ever. Happily watching from the sidelines was a hobby- you imagined him in your future. Confessing to him; however, was never foreseen. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

With your vision glossing over, this wave of dread was suffocating. Before you could excuse yourself, you felt his familiar grasp on your hand. Unlike before, his touch wasn't hesitant. Instead, his grip was determined, driven yet caring.

He grazed his thumb side to side across the back of your hand. His fingers kissing yours with each rough callous and soft intention.

The surprised action made your eyes widen, you raised your head up high only to see the sight of Joel Miller looking back at you like how one looks at a puppy- as if his heart had melted.

A bright pink flush and bitten lips, it was clear he had something to say stuck on the tip of his tongue.

“Y/N.”

“Joel.”

He bent down and held the side of your face. Dark and hazy, his eyes glazed over with ambition. “You're so pretty, y'know that?” He kissed onto your lips.

With that said, you stretched your arms up and placed them on his broad shoulders, merging your mouth with his. He nipped at your bottom lip, asking for entry. You gave in, allowing him access to explore each and every crevice with his tongue.

Was it mere minutes or years you had been kissing for? You couldn't tell. Regardless, at some point you had to pry yourself apart in order to grant yourself a moment to breathe. Your lips felt so tender and bruised- God, how you missed his touch.

He fell to sit beside you, the old couch creaking as he sat down. “Do you normally make out with men twice your age?” He teased.

“Oh, Shut up!” you said before chucking the pillow at his chest with a loud thud.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #tlou2 #tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #jackson!joel #fluff fanfic

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writeriguess · 3 days ago

Note

So this is like a semi emergency request. I’ve seen people ask other blogs for those, if it’s not ok on your blog just ignore me!

But do you think you could do a Hawks x reader where he’s like her husband and he constantly has to remind her to drink some water because she’s just the type that won’t if not begged to. So like one day she gets really sick when she gets home after patrolling all day and she faints due to dehydration from not drinking water for a while.

I’m going through a wicked case of dehydration rn because I’m just not the type to drink water often and I just need the comfort. I definitely regret my decisions and I’m going to try to be better about drinking water, I think I’m learning my lesson lolll

author's note: I want to be clear—this is a one-time exception. With a busy season ahead, there will be entire weeks when I won’t be able to check Tumblr or write. During those times, I won’t be available for “emergency requests.” My first busy period starts in just a week and a half, and right now, I’m scrambling to get through requests because I won’t be able to cover those two weeks I’ll be away. If I started receiving more of these last-minute requests, they would slow me down too much. That said, I do hope you feel better soon.

Also, just a quick heads-up: Tumblr’s gif library has been down for several days, so I won’t be able to include gifs in any fics requested less than a week ago. I’m really sorry about that! Hopefully, it’ll be fixed soon.

Flight Risk

The moment you step through the door, exhaustion weighs you down like a lead blanket. Your limbs feel heavier than usual, your vision swimming slightly as you toe off your boots. Patrolling had been brutal today—villains popping up left and right, citizens needing assistance, and of course, the unrelenting sun bearing down on you. Still, you push through, ignoring the sluggishness in your body, the dryness in your throat. It’s nothing you can’t handle.

Keigo, however, would strongly disagree.

“Babe, did you drink any water today?” His voice carries from the kitchen, where he’s leaning lazily against the counter, golden eyes flicking toward you. The way his wings shift—just the slightest ruffle of irritation—makes it clear that he already knows the answer.

You wave him off, too drained to deal with his nagging right now. “I’m fine, Hawks.”

He arches a brow. “That wasn’t the question, dove.”

You roll your eyes and mumble something incoherent, making your way toward the couch. You don’t even get the chance to sit before the dizziness swells into something much worse. The room tilts, your knees buckle, and then—nothing.

When you come to, the first thing you register is warmth. Something soft and feathery is draped over you, and it takes a few sluggish blinks to recognize the familiar red of Keigo’s wings wrapped around your body. His scent—fresh air, something musky and warm—grounds you, but there’s an underlying tightness in the way his arms are curled around you.

“Seriously?” His voice is quieter than usual, but the edge in it makes you wince. “How many times do I have to tell you to drink some damn water?”

You shift slightly, only to be met with a firm press of his hand against your forehead. “Uh-uh. Don’t even think about moving yet. You scared the hell outta me, you know that?”

Guilt settles heavy in your stomach. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to?” His laugh is hollow, and he pulls back just enough for you to see the crease in his brows. “Sweetheart, you passed out. In our living room. After I specifically asked you if you drank any water today.”

You avert your eyes, feeling suddenly small under his gaze. “I was busy.”

Keigo lets out a sharp exhale, clearly biting back whatever smart remark is on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he shifts, grabbing a glass of water from the nearby table. “Drink.”

You hesitate for a second too long, and immediately, his expression darkens. “Drink, or I swear to God, I will hold your nose and pour it down your throat.”

A laugh bubbles up despite yourself, weak and hoarse. “That’s dramatic.”

“And you’re impossible,” he grumbles, but there’s no real bite to it. He lifts the glass to your lips, watching closely as you sip. The water is cool, soothing against your parched throat, and you hadn’t even realized how desperately you needed it.

Once you finish, he sets the glass aside with a sigh, running a hand through his messy blond hair. His wings twitch slightly before curling tighter around you, caging you in his warmth. “You can’t keep doing this,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “I don’t care how strong you are. You have to take care of yourself, or I will—personally. And trust me, baby bird, you won’t like my methods.”

You hum, nuzzling into his chest. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

Keigo groans, pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” But the way his arms tighten around you, the way he stays tucked against you for the rest of the night, says otherwise.

He just loves you too much to let you slip through his fingers—even over something as simple as forgetting to drink water.

The next morning, you wake up to the sound of rustling feathers and the warm press of a hand against your cheek. Blinking blearily, you see Keigo crouching beside the bed, his golden eyes scanning your face with clear concern.

“How do you feel?”

You stretch your arms slightly, feeling a little less drained than before. “Better,” you admit, voice still raspy. “Still a little tired.”

Keigo frowns but nods. “That’s expected. You were majorly dehydrated. I had to keep waking you up last night to get you to drink more.” He gestures to the nightstand, where an empty water bottle and another half-full one sit.

A pang of guilt washes over you, and you reach for his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “I’m sorry, Kei.”

He scoffs, but there’s no real irritation in his expression. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”

You tilt your head, wary. “What is it?”

Keigo grins, but there’s a sharp glint in his eyes. “You’re not allowed to leave this bed until you finish another full bottle of water. No sneaky dumping it in a plant, no ‘accidentally’ knocking it over. I’m watching you.”

You groan but take the bottle anyway. “You’re a menace.”

“And you’re a flight risk when it comes to taking care of yourself,” he quips back, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “But you’re my flight risk.”

With that, he settles in beside you, watching closely as you take slow sips from the bottle. You know he’s not going to let this go anytime soon, and honestly, with the way his arms wrap around you like a protective cocoon, you don’t mind one bit.

#keigo takami #hawks x reader #hawks comfort #bnha x reader #mha x reader #keigo takami x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader

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latenightdaydreams · 10 months ago

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ei, então.. pensei em algo como Trucker König! leitor x que está viajando há dias, talvez tentando fugir ou apenas conseguir algum lugar para recomeçar sua vida, ela está tão desesperada e desorientada que não percebe os avanços do caminhoneiro rude e carente por uma empresa que ele possa foder sem se preocupar, talvez ele seja um pouco carinhoso com ela, só para não assustá-la no início. é isso :3

Okay, so google translate wasn't helpful and I only know Spanish so i hope this is CLOSE to what you wanted? I kept it fluffy because of the heavy topics. Again, I'm sorry if I didn't translate it right!🩷

Fluff so all welcome!

>cw: fem/afab, fluff, talk of traumas but no details

1.4k word count

For more click here!

Trucker!König x Runaway!Reader

König had recently retired from the military and taken a job as a trucker. It gave him a chance to see a slower pace and side of the country he always found relaxing during his military travels. Struggling with PTSD he had one final break down that lead to his early retirement. This being his first out of country assignment, to travel from Austria into Germany, he was excited to just relax on the road and be able to clear his mind. That’s how he thought it would go at least.

He saw you. Scared and clearly disoriented. König slows to a stop and pulls off the side of the road before getting out. He is aware of his size and the fact his face is covered in scars, so he tries to approach you like he would a stray dog. Hunching his shoulders he calls out, “hallo Fräulein, geht es dir gut?”

You turn with a face full of fear and tears streaming down your checks. You see a giant man speaking to you in German, a language you don’t know, and begin to cry harder.

This breaks Königs heart, he didn’t mean to cause you even more distress. He stops walking and watches you as he stands still sobbing.

“Are you okay?” He asked in English this time.

You look up registering it and you shake your head no.

He gets a better look at you and can see that your clothes are dirty and that you look like you’ve been traveling on foot for a while now. He looks around to see if you’re alone, you are.

“Miss, are you hurt? Can I help you?” His voice soft as he takes two small steps to you.

You don’t move back but just look at him. Your breathing is shaky as you nod your head again, finally you speak with a foreign accent, “I- I need help.” You begin to cry again and drop to the floor feeling your exhaustion fully take over.

König walks to you and crouches down, “Is it okay if I touch you miss? Only to carry you to the cab of the semi.”

Seeing you this way gives him flashbacks to all the disoriented women and children that would get caught in a bombing or were kept as prisoners. You have the same broke look in your eyes and he feels the overwhelming want to save you.

“It’s okay…” Your voice so meek as you just lay there.

König reaches out and scopes you up gently, as if you were made out of paper and walks you back to the cab. He buckles you in and makes sure that you’re comfortable before walking around to the drivers’ side and getting in.

He goes to the back of the cab to the cooler he keeps there and grabs a water and a sandwich he had made for himself.

“Here, please drink and eat. There is more if you need it.” He hands them to you as you look up at him.

Slowly you extend you hands to grab the food items from him. You look at them for a while them over to him as he sits down in the driver seat.

“Why are you being so nice?” You question him, not trusting it’s out of the kindness of his heart.

“Because you need help and its just the right thing to do.” His gaze is genuine as he smiles at you.

You take time to notice the scars on his face and arms, implying that maybe he has also had a hard life. You open the water and begin to chug it, it had been almost a full day in the sun without a drink. König watches you without saying a word as you chug the water bottle, he gets up and grabs you a second one quickly. You begin to open the sandwich as he changes out your empty bottle for the new in the lap. Slowly taking your first bit you watch him again.

His pale blue eyes met yours again, “Is it okay if I ask you why you were out here alone like this?”

You chew the bite of food that you had in your mouth as you decide if you want to open up to the stranger you just met.

“I only ask because I can tell you’re not from here, and you’re in pretty bad shape. I just… want to make sure nothing happened or…” He leaves the question open ended not wanting to push too much and make you uncomfortable.

You stay quiet and continue to eat, he takes the hint and nods. He isn’t mad, he just hopes he didn’t push too much. Starting the truck again, he pulls back off on to the road and begins to drive.

“So, where is your destination?” König looks over hoping the change in topic will help you begin to talk.

“I don’t have one,” you say with a mouth full of food.

“You don’t?” König is shocked to hear this, then where were you going?

“No, I don’t.” You repeat taking a drink of water.

“Well, my job is taking me to Germany.” König looks over at you. You simply nod your head again. “You can stay with me as long as you need. It’s just me anyway. My name is König, by the way.”

“I’m y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you, y/n.” König gives you a smile with teeth this time that show off his sharp K9s.

You finish eating your sandwich and then go take a nap in the back of the cab. There was a small bed with a blue blanket that you cover yourself with. Sleep came to you easily. It had been months since you were able to get a good night of rest and feel safe enough to do so.

Once you wake up you notice that the sun had completely set and it was dark out. You slowly walk back to the passenger seat and sit down. König looks over at you with kind eyes.

“Did you sleep well?”

You nod and stay quiet for a moment longer. “Thank you… for helping me, König.”

“Of course, it’s no problem.”

“Can I ask how you got all of your scars?”

König doesn’t like the talk about the past, especially not now. For you though, he is willing to tell you anything. The fact you’re opening up enough to ask his questions makes him smile and feel warm inside.

“I was in the military. I went in at 17 and I just retired last year.” He looks over at you to see your reaction to this information. You had a neutral look on your face but a softer look.

“Now you do this?”

“Ja, it is relaxing. Therapy in a way. I can just drive and forget.”

You look forward out the window as the clear night sky. Stars covering it as there were not many lights here.

“It is beautiful…” You say in a soft voice that makes Königs heart flutter. “So, you’re running away from something too.”

So, she’s a run away?

“I guess so,” König chuckles. “It’s natural to want to run from painful parts of our life.”

You stay quiet and look out at the night sky for a while and König sits with you in the silence.

“I met someone online that said they would help me escape from my abusive home life,” your voice cracks slightly. “I moved all the way here and…they…they…” you begin to cry.

König begins to stop the truck and again to pull off the side of the road. He unbuckles himself and embraces you in his arms. His massive muscular frame embracing you tightly as if he could take all the pain away. He kisses the top of your head as you continue to cry in his arms.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry the people that you were suppose to be able to trust betrayed you. You’re safe now. You can be at home with me.” He rubs your back.

His words cause your walls to come crashing down as you hug him back, clinging to him and melting into his arms. This was the first time in a very long time you felt safe and that someone’s words were genuine. With no where to call your own, you decide to stay with König and see how to trip to and from Germany goes.

Both of you broken people who so happen to cross each other’s paths when you needed someone the most.

#konig #konig x y/n #konig cod #konig x reader #könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig fluff #könig fluff #könig x y/n #könig x you

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sendandburn · 6 months ago

Text

An analysis of Severus Snape as a teacher

"Three things always come up in the context of Snape’s abusiveness. One of them is not something Snape does but a reaction to him.

1. Threatened to Poison Neville’s Toad

This is one of two direct interactions between Snape and Neville in the books. Since it merits real-time narration, it must stand out: Snape is at his worst at this moment.

A particularly nasty mood is understandable:

“have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning — they reckon Sirius Black’s been sighted.” “Where?” [...] “Not too far from here,” said Seamus.

Snape believes that Black betrayed the Potters and wants to go after Harry. Black also nearly murdered Snape in their fifth year, so Snape has reason to be on edge.

His potion, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned — “Orange, Longbottom,” said Snape, ladling some up and allowing it to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see [Harry assumes]. “Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn’t you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn’t I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?” Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears. “Please, sir,” said Hermione, “please, I could help Neville put it right —” “I don’t remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger,” said Snape coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville. “Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly.”

Not great. Snape is not a suitable teacher for an introductory class, or for insecure children like Neville, but abusive, this is not. The fact that Neville brought Trevor to class shows that Neville never expected to be very severely sanctioned for doing that or for Trevor to come to any harm, before that lesson. Snape is at the end of his rope with Neville and wants him to take the lesson seriously. He states his motives plainly - to get Neville to understand.

Did he mean harm to Trevor? Snape is competent enough that if he’d wanted that toad dead, it would be. In any case, the potion turned out alright, and Snape knew it - he can tell from the way the potion looks. Snape also has a bottle of the antidote in his other pocket:

Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville’s potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor’s throat. There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape’s palm. The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

Is he sour because he hoped to kill Trevor? Why give it the antidote, thus saving it? Maybe he is sour for the reason he says he is:

“I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed.”

This is also why he docks five points, not because Neville got it right. This was a misguided attempt to teach. Nothing was ever going to happen to Trevor.

[Sidenote: Animal cruelty is commonplace at Hogwarts. sentient or semi-sentient animals are experimented on regularly in Transfig. They even vanish cats. Even the herbology plants seem able to feel pain, but 2nd year students are expected to chop up humanoid mandrakes. Flitwick demonstrates levitation on Trevor, and Harry practices Accio on him.]

Let's be clear here: putting the wrong number of spleens into a potion suggests someone who either doesn't consider the instructions to be important, or simply doesn't care.

Something else to consider is just how dangerous someone like Neville is to the class. In university, one of the requirements for my degree was Organic Chemistry, which contained a large lab portion to it. Organic Chemistry, for those who don't know, is chemistry that focuses on carbon-containing compounds, which includes things like oils and chloroform. To put it mildly, it's dangerous. Many of the compounds used are either explosive, or are placed in potentially explosive situations. Many of the chemicals are directly dangerous all on their own, too.

Rules in that lab were particularly strict, they have to be, because one wrong move could end disastrously. Case in point, one of the experiments involved a type of round bottom flask which were needed to heat a set of chemicals in. Critically, the pressure had to be relieved from the flask. The instructor told us what happened in a prior class when someone had failed to do so: it exploded, and everyone in the lab was lucky none of the glass had cut anyone. That particular person was ejected from the lab for it, and with good reason.

Potion class seems just as dangerous at the end of the day, perhaps more so since unlike chemistry where adding different amounts of ingredients is more likely to cause the reaction to fail, people like Neville appear to be able to produce something, it's just something that's likely to be toxic or have completely unexpected effects. We know from the books that producing an antidote to a blended toxin is a complicated, almost quantum endeavour, I shudder to think what you need to do to properly reverse or mitigate the effects of a poorly blended potion are.

Similarly, Snape isn't being cruel when he docks points for Hermione's successful recovery of Neville's toxic potion, because in actuality what we see here is an academic offense; Neville is essentially presenting someone else's work as his own." (reddit)

Plus, bringing a pet to class always causes problems,specially if it is to the wixen equivalent of a chemistry class.

Granted his bad mood does not in any way excuse or justify his actions towards neville but it does help explain them.

2. Neville’s Boggart

"True, his boggart is Snape.

This does not mean that Snape is truly scary. (assuming Snape is scary because Neville fears him because he is scary is circular reasoning). His fear of Snape is not overwhelming or traumatizing. Neville’s fear is on par with Ron’s fear of spiders (which itself was caused by the twins, who are much scarier), Dean’s fear of hands, etc.

If Snape had been abusive, other students would not have found this funny, and Neville would not have smiled. If the fear had been overwhelming, Neville would not have defeated the boggart on his first try.

Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, “Professor Snape.” Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful. “Professor Snape... hmmm… Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?” “Er — yes,” said Neville nervously. “But — I don’t want the boggart to turn into her either.”

Neville seems more scared of admitting he fears Snape than of Snape. He does not want to confront his grandmother either, probably because, like Snape, she makes him feel inadequate, which is what really scares him. But she should have loved Neville unconditionally and not compared him to his parents, and Snape is his teacher, whose job it is to let him know when he is doing poorly.

Neville defeats his Snape boggart on his first attempt because it’s a trivial fear. Molly, an adult witch and the bad-ass who killed Bellatrix, fails to beat her boggart, in OOTP, because there’s nothing trivial about her fear of losing her husband or her children.

Snape is listed among the meaningless boggarts the kids defeated with ease:

“Did you see me take that banshee?” shouted Seamus. “And the hand!” said Dean, waving his own around. “And Snape in that hat!” “And my mummy!”

This is the textbook definition of a boggart:

Hermione put up her hand. “It’s a shape-shifter,” she said. “It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most.” “Couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Professor Lupin.

The boggart is whatever’s on your mind, not your true deepest, darkest fear (unless Ron is a monster for fearing spiders when just last year, he nearly lost Ginny). POA already introduces a creature that actually makes you relive your worst moments - Dementors. Introducing two creatures that do essentially the same thing is redundant. Snape’s on Neville’s mind because this lesson immediately follows the toad scene.

If that does not convince you: Hermione’s boggart is McGonagall (but actually, failure).

An out-of-universe explanation for Neville’s fear of Snape is that his parents’ story, just like the Cruciatus curse, did not exist at the time of writing the boggart scene. You’d think Draco would tease Neville about it, if it had existed by POA.

This passage is from GOF, after the lesson about unforgivables, in which Neville was clearly thinking about his parents:

“What was that?” said Seamus Finnigan, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. “Sounded like a banshee... Maybe you’ve got to get past one of those next, Harry!” “It was someone being tortured!” said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. “You’re going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!”

This scene shows that Harry is unlike the rest of his classmates because his fears are real and serious. It provides comic relief, because the big meanie is in drag. It’s the beginning of Neville’s arc from someone who fears Snape in Y3 to someone who leads the DA in Y7 and fears nothing. It hints at the Snape-Marauders relationship. It’s used to make Snape’s behavior in the werewolf lesson seem petty and vindictive, to obfuscate the fact that it actually takes place right after Sirius infiltrates the castle for the first time, which is what’s actually bothering him.

In conclusion, the boggart says nothing about Snape, only about Neville.

3. I see no difference

In context:

“And what is all this noise about?” said a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, “Explain.” “Potter attacked me, sir —” “We attacked each other at the same time!” Harry shouted. “— and he hit Goyle — look —” Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi. “Hospital wing, Goyle,” Snape said calmly. “Malfoy got Hermione!” Ron said. “Look!” He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth — she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape’s back. Snape looked coldly [as opposed to his usual smirk/smile, when he enjoys whatever he’s saying. Also, what’s the difference between being “calm” and being “cold”? Harry is awful at reading people, and at reading Snape in particular] at Hermione, then said, “I see no difference.” Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears.

Snape is demanding an explanation from Malfoy, not the trio. Harry admits that both of them attacked each other. You’d think Snape will never miss an opportunity to punish Harry, who attacked his favorite, right? Wrong. He sends Goyle to the hospital wing calmly, despite Goyle being in pretty bad shape. Ron seems to expect Snape to be helpful, otherwise, why does he direct his attention to Hermione? The Slytherin girls hide their giggling from Snape, as if expecting him to discipline them if he sees them. But he simply says he sees no difference. Why is he acting this way, so out of character? Because at this point, in GOF, the Dark Mark is already growing darker and Voldemort is coming back. Snape will soon have to resume his spying role. He cannot act like he otherwise would have, which is to punish everyone, including the Death Eaters’ children - he is downplaying the whole thing to avoid punishing anyone.

Did he absolutely have to mock Hermione? No. Does he ever do that in any other context? No. It was an easy way to demonstrate his hatred of Harry and supposed disdain for his Muggle-born friend, when he needed to reinforce that image of himself.

Some resentment is understandable: Hermione had set Snape on fire, stolen from him, and slammed him against a wall, knocking him unconscious. That she gets away with a mean-spirited comment indicates that he doesn’t hate her.

He wasn’t even necessarily thinking of her teeth. He might have meant “ISND between what Malfoy did to you, and what Potter did to Goyle”, “ISND between what I told Goyle to do, and what you should do”. We know he can insult her outright when he wants to, and nothing stopped JKR from writing “your teeth look the same as yesterday.”

Maybe he was thinking about how, just a few chapters previously, McGonagall had watched Moody torture Draco, and instead of asking Draco how he was feeling (redundant question, since he was visibly in pain, but it would have been her duty nonetheless), and sending him to the Hospital Wing, she had allowed Moody to drag him away for more punishment, meaning it was she who had set the precedent that students in obvious distress can be dismissed.

She gets over this comment instantly. She even defends Snape later in the same book, and up until he kills Dumbledore.

Snape is definitely an asshole. Here are other bad things he does:

The first Potions lesson: calls Neville an idiot and then accuses Harry of not helping Neville because he wanted to look good. Absurd.

“Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We’ll be sending what’s left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox.” Hilarious, but ouch!

Calls Hermione an insufferable-know-it-all (which she was), following several more civilized attempts to shut her up.

Reading the article about Harry in front of everyone, when the Trio is discussing it in class instead of working, then separating them, ordering Harry to sit next to him, and taking the opportunity to taunt him, culminating in calling Harry a “nasty little boy” and threatening to use Veritaserum on him. This is clearly an empty threat, or Snape would have simply slipped him some without warning him, like Umbridge (not that the legilimens needed to).

Doesn’t punish the Slytherin who hexed Alicia Spinnet before the big Quidditch game (McG before that: “I’ve become accustomed to seeing the Quidditch Cup in my study, boys, and I really don’t want to have to hand it over to Professor Snape, so use the extra time [from the lack of homework] to practice, won’t you?”

In the first occlumency lesson, calls Harry a lamentable potions maker (irrelevant and uncalled for), as well as implicitly calling him stupid: “The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter… or at least, most minds are.” Why should Harry know how legilimency works? He’s never heard of it. Even that can be explained away, though: Voldemort might be spying on the lesson through Harry’s eyes.

When escorting Harry from the train to the school in HBP, he calls Tonk’s Patronus weak, and needles Harry. He accuses Harry of only wanting attention: “I suppose you wanted to make an entrance, did you?” Then he says this: “No cloak. You can walk in so that everyone sees you, which is what you wanted, I’m sure.” Make up your mind, Snape.

When Harry says ghosts are transparent: “Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter.” When Ron points out that this is the most useful way to tell ghosts and inferi apart, because inferi are solid, he says this: “I would expect nothing more sophisticated from you, Ronald Weasley, the boy so solid he cannot Apparate half an inch across a room.” Possible explanation: Harry and Ron were publicly discussing Snape’s and Fletcher’s involvement in the Order, so shutting them up was imperative.

That’s 9 things, so with the toad scene and ISND, that’s 11 bad things Snape does to students, in 6 years. Snape is the teacher we spend the most time with, so we get a large enough sample to have an accurate impression of him. All of his transgressions are insults of varying severity, and that’s it.

He’s rude to everyone, not just his inferiors: Tonks and Sirius, fellow Order members, Bellatrix, a “fellow” Death Eater, and even Dumbledore, his superior in every way. Yes, he should have been gentler with students. He is harsh, unkind, strict, impatient, and overbearing, but not bullying or abusive.

His treatment of Harry is truly unfair. He projects the trauma James had caused him onto Harry, which is completely undeserved (but he also protects Harry out of guilt and love for Lily, which is also, strictly speaking, undeserved). Snape doesn’t see Harry for who he is, but even that is not as superficial as it seems, and it’s not entirely the result of Snape’s “immaturity” (i.e., long-term trauma).

PS: When they first make eye-contact, both of them are set on the wrong path because of Quirrell. Harry feels a pain when Snape is looking at him, pulls a face, and continues to stare at Snape. The legilimens might be sensing Voldemort in him. Harry then sasses at him in the very first lesson, and nearly knocks him off his broom.

COS: Harry arrives at school by flying car, launches a seemingly random attack on Slytherins, the appears to be encouraging the snake to attack Justin.

POA: Harry displays recklessness truly worthy of his father, sneaking off to Hogsmeade, throwing snowballs at Malfoy, lying about it

GOF: Harry becomes the center of attention. Snape resents this, as do Ron and Sprout. Twice, the legilimens is looking into Harry’s eyes while Harry is fantasizing about hurting him.

OOTP: Harry violates Snape’s privacy and endangers him, Snape does not know that Harry regrets the whole thing. He also catches Harry at this:

“What are you doing, Potter?” said Snape coldly as ever, as he strode over to the four of them. “I’m trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy, sir,” said Harry fiercely. Snape stared at him.

This must have been flashback-inducing. What we see as fiercely, Snape sees as vicious.

6. HBP: Harry hexes people at random, including Filch, and worst of all, Snape catches Harry casting Sectumsempra on Draco.

Snape has a disincentive to try with Harry: He knows he will return to Voldemort as a spy. The cover story is, “I thought Voldemort was finished, and that Harry did it.” Becoming buds with Harry would have been inexplicable; becoming buds with Harry and then NOT using that to deliver Harry to Voldemort (i.e., what BCJ has done) - unforgivable. Snape relied heavily on half-truths and misdirection but there was one thing he could be honest with Voldemort about: He hates Harry with a passion. That, ironically, helped him protect Harry.

FWIW, I believe the memory of Snape ranting about Harry, and Dumbledore dismissing Snape and telling him he’s wrong, is included as an apology.

Snape’s three biggest victims are Harry, who names a child after him; Hermione, who doesn’t mind him and even likes him; and Neville, who clearly got over it with ease.

Dumbledore will never fire Snape. He has a free pass to be as cruel as he wants, because he has a cover to keep. Other than the DADA teachers and Hagrid, he is the least experienced, and he is the youngest by far except for, briefly, Lockhard and Lupin. Hogwarts is a site of lifelong trauma for him. Since he is so young, some of his students probably saw or heard about him being publicly humiliated. It also meant that he was initially barely older than some of the students' siblings, so he had to cultivate a very strict persona to control his classroom.

Hence, if you find judging teachers’ conduct in a children’s book a worthwhile pursuit (I don’t think it is, but here we are), Snape should be judged less harshly, not more harshly.

He has no incentive to dial down his cruelty and a wealth of excuses for being cruel, so the cruelty we see in him is the worst he could do, despite being under extreme stress. Yet it is limited to sarcastic remarks, docked points, and mild detentions.

He never lays a hand or a wand on a student, except when pulling Harry out of the Pensieve and then blowing up a jar over his head. Pulling him out was obviously justified - Harry not only violated his privacy and humiliated him, he also risked showing Voldemort classified memories. I believe that if he had wanted the jar to hit Harry, it would have, and he missed on purpose. He never takes advantage of his position over students or his relationship with them, and his punishments are never dangerous.

But he is biased, right?

Not as biased as people think. He has issues with the Trio+Neville, but not other Gryffs, or with students in other houses. He assigns zero house points, including to Slytherins, and his deductions are rarely substantial. He does not bend the rules to get a 1st year student on the Quidditch team, and he does not give 170 last minute points.

Unlike points, grades do matter, and he grades fairly:

According to Lucius in COS, Hermione beat Draco in every test, including potions:

“I would have thought you’d be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam,” snapped Mr. Malfoy.

Harry expects Snape to grade him fairly, when he tries:

Determined not to give Snape an excuse to fail him this lesson, Harry read and reread every line of instructions on the blackboard at least three times before acting on them.

Harry does fail. This is the Strengthening Solution they work on over two lessons. In the second lesson, Harry isn’t paying attention because he is too busy listening in on Umbridge’s interrogation.

Except the bit where Harry's vial breaks, there is no evidence that he grades unfairly. This was petty, but Hermione is the one who vanished the rest of the potion and prevented him from being able to turn in a second sample.

At the end of the lesson he scooped some of the potion into a flask, corked it, and took it up to Snape’s desk for marking, feeling that he might at last have scraped an E. He had just turned away when he heard a smashing noise; [...] His potion sample lay in pieces on the floor, and Snape was watching him with a look of gloating pleasure. “Whoops,” he said softly. “Another zero, then, Potter…” Harry was too incensed to speak. He strode back to his cauldron, intending to fill another flask and force Snape to mark it, but saw to his horror that the rest of the contents had vanished. “I’m sorry!” said Hermione.

This is after Harry views SWM. Assuming Snape did this on purpose (we don’t know), he might have been vindictive or he might have been putting on a show of it because Voldemort was watching through Harry’s eyes.

Snape appears unfair in the sense that when Harry does poorly, he receives poorer grades than he deserves (in Harry’s opinion), but when Harry does well, he expects to be graded fairly (OOTP29). Specifically, Harry complains that Snape grades only him unfairly, and not Ron or Neville, meaning that the issue is with Harry and not with all Gryffindors (OOTP12+15).

Snape’s bias shows only in that he does not punish his own students for their wrongdoings on-page. However, Slytherins wait until Snape’s back is turned to misbehave, and that includes Draco, Snape’s favorite:

In the ISND incident, Pansy and her friends giggle behind Snape’s back.

Draco flashes his Potter Stinks badges when Snape’s attention is directed elsewhere.

Draco taunts Harry with his “remedial potions?!” jeer when Snape isn’t looking.

Right before the toad incident, Draco was pretending to be badly hurt, and pointed out to Snape that Ron (who was sitting next to him and whom Snape had asked to help Draco) wasn’t helping him properly. Draco lowers his voice to admit he pretends to be hurt partly because it means Snape will have someone help him.

They routinely bother to hide their nastiness, because they expect some sort of sanction. McGonagall sends Slytherin transgressors to Snape for punishment, meaning she expects him to handle them.

Snape also assigns Crabbe and Goyle detentions liberally to make sure they “pass their DADA OWLs”. This is also done to thwart Draco’s attempts to kill Dumbledore, but nobody is surprised at this.

Snape is a very effective teacher and the students don’t all hate him

In Y2, Snape teaches students about Polyjuice Potion, which exceeds the curriculum requirements. Umbridge’s objective is to discredit Dumbledore’s hires, but even she recognizes that his class is advanced. Snape constantly explains to the students what they did wrong, even if Harry calls this bullying. His exam pass rate is high: The trio earns two Es and one O even though Harry and Ron don’t care about the subject. Snape is an effective, albeit very imperfect, teacher (Harry, Ron, and Hermione all earn the same grade in Potions as they do in Charms and Transfiguration; Neville can be deduced to have passed his Potions and his Transfiguration OWLs with an A).

He only admits O students into his NEWT potions class, whereas Minerva is “very pleased” with Harry’s E. This is not as restrictive as it sounds:

This is the composition of Harry’s 6th year Potions class:

The four Slytherins took a table together, as did the four Ravenclaws. This left Harry, Ron, and Hermione to share a table with Ernie.

Everyone but Harry and Ron had earned Os, because they all had the textbook already. That’s at least 10 out of 28* students in Harry’s year who got the highest grade.

*There is some debate about the size of Harry’s year. I’m only counting students who have names.

25 out of 25 eligible students take DADA with Snape in their 6th year:

”Before we start, I want your dementor essays,” said Snape, waving his wand carelessly, so that twenty-five scrolls of parchment soared into the air and landed in a neat pile on his desk.

The missing ones are Crabbe and Goyle, who failed their OWLs, and Abbott, who left.

Neville definitely took DADA with Snape:

Typically, ten minutes into the lesson Hermione managed to repel Neville’s muttered JellyLegs Jinx, a feat that would surely have earned her twenty points for Gryffindor from any reasonable teacher.

Harry whines, but note that Snape doesn’t take points from Neville for muttering, either.

That’s how unbiased students talk about Snape:

“Harry,” Ernie said [...], “didn’t get a chance to speak in Defense Against The Dark Arts this morning. Good lesson, I thought.”

Safety is his top priority

Snape:

stops Ron from hitting Draco

Upon hearing that a student had been taken into the Chamber - he was distressed enough that he had to grab a chair "very hard" (even though his Slytherins alone were not in danger)

is the one who nags Lupin to drink his potion in POA, and not the other way around

runs into the Shrieking Shack to face Black and Lupin on the full moon to save the trio

when the egg starts screaming in GOF, runs toward the sound of someone screaming as though they’re being tortured in the middle of the night

Supplies Umbridge with fake Veritaserum

Orders Harry to release Neville when he thinks Ron and Harry are fighting him

Saves Neville from being choked by Crabbe

Runs toward a woman screaming in the middle of an occlumency lesson (it’s Trelawney getting fired)

Makes an unbreakable vow to protect Draco, keeps it

Runs toward Myrtle’s cries of a murder, not knowing who was hurt or how and what danger he might face there

Steers Hermione+Luna out of harm’s way before the Astronomy Tower battle

After killing Dumbledore, he stops Death Eaters from Cruciating Harry when Harry confronts him. Harry tries to curse Snape, including an attempt at Crucio, yet Snape risks breaking cover to spare Harry pain

He is the one Dumbledore assigned to keep students safe during DH. Snape did not have to stay at Hogwarts at that point, both of them knew Harry won't be attending next year, so this had nothing to do with the original mission, Dumbledore just trusted him this much, and rightly so - nobody is reported to have died during Snape's year as headmaster, which is more than can be said for Dumbledore. Within this, he Sent the silver trio to Hagrid as a form of "punishment" for trying to steal the sword.

Only in one of these cases is Harry even in the picture (that Snape knows of before springing into action). I omitted things like saving Harry in PS. In one case, he leaves Harry to go see what’s going on. Also not included are multiple instances of Snape saving students at no risk to himself or to his cover, by brewing potions or using his Dark Arts expertise (COS, HBP). His attempts to save adult characters are not included either.

“Her [the Doe Patronus’s] presence had meant safety.” (r/harrypotter on reddit)

Note: the writer of this post said it the the title that Snape is the best teacher at Hogwarts, wich i frankly do not agree with as, despite being a master in his subjects and prioritizing safety, Snape comes of as unaproachable to his students wich causes strugling students like Neville to go to peers for help instead of him, wich is far from ideal.

#harry potter #character analysis #severus snape #severus snape fandom #pro severus snape

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pfhwrittes · 7 months ago

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hey p this is nobody you know but do you have thoughts about depot mouse seeing something they shouldn't have seen? 😇

hello friend! (who i definitely don't know, no siree) i waffled over this and my search results are now full of dubiously legal activities that i definitely haven't ever seen in practice, not even once mr/ms/mx GCHQ person checking online traffic. (i also got distracted by portakabin set ups, but that's a separate issue.) and then my brain spat this out for the tradieverse.

does it answer the prompt? eh, vaguely. but i hope you'll be pleased with it.

tags/tw: non-sexual semi-nudity, russian pet names (pchelka = little bee, myshka = mouse, milaya = darling/sweetie/dearest), light angst at the end, and a very brief mention of choking.

author's note: barely skimmed for typos and bad grammar as always and a patented (by @/391780) abrupt ending because i couldn't figure out how to end it and it was getting away from me.

at this point, you're certain nikolai thinks it's funny to have you running around after him. flitting from your office to the driver's "lounge" (another portakabin, this time outfitted with a row of lockers, a sagging sofa, a table and set of scattered chairs, and a small kitchenette area), you yank open the door and your waspish comments die on your tongue.

nikolai is leaning against the counter of the kitchenette. in his pants. in just his pants.

unbidden your eyes skate over his broad shoulders, down over a glimmering gold chain that is nestled in thick, dark hair that spreads wildly over his chest to a soft stomach, to land on the tightest pair of black briefs you've ever seen.

"hello, myshka." nik's voice snaps you out of your staring and you feel heat flooding your cheeks as you tear your gaze away from his... underwear to meet his amused brown eyes.

"i, um, i was looking for you." you absolutely do not let your eyes drop below his neck as nik redistributes his weight as he laughs.

"and now you have found me." nik grins, a flash of surprisingly white teeth considering the amount of black tea and cigarettes he imbibes.

"yes, i wanted to - sorry, but why exactly are you in your pants?" you blurt out.

nik shrugs his broad shoulders and you drag your gaze up to look just past his left ear where a damp lock of black hair curls lazily.

"my clothes are wet." he says simply, like that explains everything. it probably does, knowing the very little you do know about nik.

there's a beat of silence where nik continues to grin and you ignore the way your neck and face are blazing with heat.

"right." you clear your throat uncomfortably. "anyway, i need your receipts."

"it's no problem, i've already handed them to farah." nik waves your words off with a lazy flap of his hand.

"yes, it is a problem! you can't just hand your receipts off to the head of the company, nikolai!" you huff irritably and nikolai interrupts you with a loud boisterous laugh.

"ah, pchelka." he sighs fondly, "always so busy running around, you miss what's right in front of your nose."

that brings you up short and you scowl furiously at him. of course he would think that, all he has to worry about to getting from the depot to the job site and back again. he isn't having to chase wayward drivers around for scraps of paper, or answering the phone to a disgruntled jonathan price when he can't get hold of nikolai, or answering emails with the subject line "how much 4 hardcore??" that you hope to god have come from a bot and not some sad, lonely weirdo thinking that a haulage company offers pornography.

the grin on nik's face flickers slightly and you see his eyes are no longer amused, but soft, almost apologetic.

"sweetness, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to imply-"

"it's fine." you interrupt him, your tone has gone flat and professional despite the way frustration burns at your lungs, urging you to unload all of your irritation on the man. "i'll just go ask farah for the receipts."

nik takes a step towards you.

"milaya -"

"no, really nik." you turn away to push at the door, "thank you for your help as always." you shove open the door and stomp across the dirt to the office you share with farah, leaving nik behind you in his underpants.

(later in the afternoon, after you had emailed farah to send you copies of nikolai's receipts, you lean back in your chair and refuse to let your mind drift back to the glittering gold chain resting on nik's collarbone.

and if you do, it's only because you're thinking about wrapping it around your fist to strangle the insufferable man with it, honest. )

#tradie!141 #nikolai #nikolai x reader #i've realised i mention portakabins a lot in this universe but they truly are the backbone to most work sites #blessed portakabins where i can sit my weary bones on an uncomfortable chair and drink my coffee in relative peace #and eavesdrop on the gossip 👀#anyway i hope you enjoy this!#tw choking #<- just in case #there's no smut in this - i'm using the banner as a blanket statement that i don't want minors interacting with my blog/writing!

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seijorhi · 1 month ago

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Hi Rhi!!

I’ve been a fan of all of your fics for a while now and All In just scratched my brain in ways I didn’t know fics could. The uneasy atmosphere in the first half was so well executed that I kept on wanting to reach out to Aya for help (I might have crushed on her and wished the reader had just skipped off into the sunset with her instead) and the way the Shiratorizawa trio straddled the line between socially acceptable but weird and downright creepy at the stadium was perfectly balanced. I was slightly suspicious that this would be a ‘beta reader discovers she’s an omega’ fic but honestly the twist was ten times better than what I predicted, and the way you disguised Ushijima’s reaction to scenting Aya on the reader was masterclass.

I’ve been obsessed with all the behind the scenes information you’ve been posting on your blog and wanted to ask a few more questions. First, what scents do you think Ushijima, Semi, and Tendou would give off? Does the reader have a preference, and if so do any of them calm her down or do they just give her relentless anxiety? Of the three would you say that Semi is the most inclined to be the leader with how conniving he is? And lastly, when Tendou gifted the chocolates what did he mean by “I had a feeling, I went with it”?

Thank you so much for writing and sharing this fic, I hope you have a wonderful day!

-🐡

nonnie, ily <33

vghfdjkhfjdks in no way was i going to write a surprise omega for my beta fic, i would've been hunted for sport. also it takes half the fun out of it – don't get me wrong, i love it for the whole 'sudden, unexpected heat, oh shit' thing, but this fic wasn't about that.

anyway, onto the questions.

tendou's scent's described in the fic as cherrywood, that sort of sweet, cherry intensity with a woodsy base. semi's got more of an amber-vanilla scent going on, which takes on a warm, smokey edge. ushijima's scent is clean and masculine, musk and cedar. the kind you just wanna bury your face in and inhale. those alphas smell good, and she hates that they do have an effect on her. i wouldn't call it drugging, but after a few hours of being smothered in their scents, it's harder to think clearly. they definitely take advantage of it.

from the perspective of the fic it might seem like semi's the one calling the shots, but it's a little more complex than that. being the biggest, the strongest, the most dominant, ushijima falls easily into the position of pack alpha. if he hadn't wanted the beta in their pack, she wouldn't have been. that wouldn't have stopped semi from going after her, it just would've meant he kept all her for himself, separate from the pack.

semi might've been the one to convince him that going after the omega was the right bet, but ultimately he was the one to green light it, and when it became abundantly clear he wouldn't tolerate aya's close proximity towards their beta, that was the end of it.

as far as tendou's comment goes, it's about the chocolates themselves, and her scent. he took a gamble when he made the chocolates specifically to give to her – caramel with sea salt. it was a guess that they'd complement her, and it paid off because he was right.

#🐡 anon #ty for the ask bby!#rhi answers #fic asks #all in

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neoballsucker · 1 year ago

Text

SAY MY NAME

Summary : complaining to your friend about working overtime for extra work with the office's crush

Pair : mingi x fem!reader

Genre : office AU , SMUT

Warnings : semi public sex , pet names (princess baby etc.) , unprotected sex , soft Dom!mingi , cum play , fingering , blowjob

words count : 1.3k

A/N : I'm still really bad at that I'm sorry 😭😭

Mingi was a really popular guy in your office

He was handsome respectful

He was the meaning of perfection

A Lot of girls had a crush on him you can't deny you didn't grow a little crush on him since you knew him he was attractive his deep voice made you melt everytime you hear it

You didn't know if he was single or taken it wasn't really your business a lot of women from the office tried flirting with him women older than him and younger than him it was embarrassing how he just refused to go out with them but can you blame them he was handsome and a gentleman man

“I really wanna ask him out but I don't really know how he rejects everyone” your friend sighs in disappointment

“Maybe it's because he has someone in his life?” You chunkles at your friend's disappointment

“It's okay babe he's not the only man out there you know that right” you try to comfort her patting on her back softly

“You're right but he's just…so handsome and cute, his girlfriend must me so lucky to have him”

“Yeah you're right he's handsome I agree but c'mon there are alot of men out there I'm sure they'll be better than him”

“Yeah it's okay whatever” she rolls her eyes

“Anyways wanna come to the club with me after work?”

You sigh deeply in disappointment “oh well… the manager told me I have to stay overtime because I still have some work to do”

“Oh damn that must be lame will you be alone or…?” She asks and pats your back softly

“I don't know probably…I hope so tho i don't want some nasty old men with me for overtime”

She chuckles at your comment “yeah I agree some of these old men are really lame I'd rather be alone too” you just nod and return your gaze to your computer

Time skips everybody left it was only you…that's what you thought until you heard footsteps you rolled your eyes thinking it was one of the old men until you heard his voice

“Hi umm is anyone there?” He said clearing his throat…it was mingi

“Oh yeah…hi mingi” you smiled and waved

“Oh hi y/n you also here for overtime?”

“Yeah unfortunately “ you sigh in disappointment and rolled your eyes

“Anyways work hard I believe in you” he winks and smiles softly

You didn't answer him you were just starting at him…maybe more than you should

He noticed it and chuckles “someone is in love I see” you shake your head “ahh no sorry I was just spacing out” you said and chuckled nervously “yeah I see it's okay you're to the first one to ‘space out’ talking to me” you roll your eyes “I can't blame them” you chuckles as you feel his body leaning closer “so do you think I'm handsome too?” You feel his body closer his voice getting deeper you swallow hard as you feel heat raise in your body pool was created in your underwear as you feel his lips on yours his lips were so soft and nice it tastes like strawberry it was sweet your eyes close slightly as you feel his hands on your waist as he pulls you closer to his tall figure you didn't want this moment to stop you felt him unbuttoning your shirt something in you told you to stop him but instead you helped him take off your shirt as your shirt was removed on the floor he cups one of your breasts as you moan into the kiss it felt like heaven it was good it felt unreal as you feel him take off your laced bra exposing your breasts you knew it was wrong doing it in a workplace he knew it was wrong doing it in a work place but who cares now?

He pulls out of the kiss going lower to the level of your breasts as you feel one of your nipples in his mouth and the other between his fingers squeezing it you press your lips together as trying to hold your loud moans until you couldn't anymore you started moaning as you feel his fingers massaging your entrance the pleasure was too much for you.

“Will you please be quiet for me princess?”

“Y-yes I ca-” you couldn't even continue the sentence until you felt his finger inside you your eyes roll back as his fingers stretch your hole you try to moan but it got stuck in your throat as you cries out and whine

“If you can't take one of my fingers probably how are you going to take my dick princess huh?” You hide your face in your hands embarrassed as your ears slightly turn red from the embarrassment

“I-i will handle your dick mingi” your voice is shakey your vision getting blurry as you feel yourself near climax

“C-can I cum…please” as you said that you feel your hole empty whining that you couldn't cum

“Do you wanna make a mess in the office princess?” you shake your head and just roll your eyes

“Use your words baby”

“No mingi I don't but like please.. please can you fuck me” you begged it was embarrassing when you think about it but he looked just too hot to resist

“Alright fine then…it will be a quick one though” you nodded with a cocky smile on your face as he pushes you on a chair unbuckling and discharging his pants while you take off your skirt

“Open wide for me princess and don't forget to say my name” he chuckles softly as he settles between your legs teasing your entrance with his tip

“No teasing mingi please” as you said that you felt his dick inside you

You bite your lower lips trying to hold the urge to moan

“A-ahh mingi oh please faster” your voice was shakey it came out more of a moan than a proper sentence you can feel the smirk on his face even if your eyes are closed

“Oh fuck you're so tight princess pussy only made for me don't you think so ?”

“Y-yes mingi yes”

“You look so pretty all fucked like that pussy so tight yet taking me so well”

“I'm about to cum please can I cum?”

“Of course princess what are you waiting for” as you heard his words you released it all your eyes rolls back your grip on his hair gets tight as you feel him pull out of you

“Get on your knees for me baby” his voice was low it makes what to do whatever he asks you whatever it was you get on your knees between his legs taking a deep breath as you feel the tip tapping on your mouth you open your mouth as he puts his dick in your mouth, you start bobbing your head up and down as you hear his moans and groans you feel his dick hitting the back of your throat as you try to not choke on it

He groans as he releases his seeds in your mouth some of it on the corner of your lips but you swallow whatever was in your mouth for now he wipes the cum off the corners of your lips

“Open for me princess” you open your mouth widely as he inserts his fingers as you wrap your lips around his fingers cleaning it off

“That's my girl” he smiles softly and kisses your lips and helps you stand grabbing your clothes and helps you get dressed as he gets himself dressed

“Alright now shall we go back to work?” He asks with a soft smile on his face

“Yeah I guess so” you smile weakly still feeling your sore throat but at least it was worth it wasn't it ?

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez hard thoughts #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x female reader #ateez mingi #mingi #mingi smut #mingi imagines #mingi fanfic #mingi hard thoughts #mingi x reader #mingi x y/n #mingi fic #🦒

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softspeirs · 11 months ago

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These Heartbeats Clear (1): Rosie Rosenthal x OC

A/N: Rosie/OC… literally couldn’t resist. I was torn between this OC and a Red Cross OC from the flak house, but I think I wanted someone who would see him during all the hard parts, not just for a week when he’s Suffering. Spoilers for eps 5 and 6 of MoTA. These Heartbeats Clear Masterlist

one - adjustment period.

Grace watches warily as the crew approaches on the jeep - she’s not sure what she expected… for them to be jubilant and laughing, looking refreshed and ready for action? Nervous, scared, resigned… some combination of the two?

Her eyes land on Rosie, as they’re prone to do. He seems calm. That’s not a surprise, but the glimpse of something — fear? hesitation? — in his eyes is.

Helen, standing on her left, shifts her weight, her posture the picture of worry and sadness.

“Try to pull yourself upright,” Grace says quietly.

"I'm trying--" Helen says, her voice dull. To her credit, she flashes a smile as the guys get closer, her frown softening.

"Ladies," Rosie says, fingers on the brim of his hat. "What's the welcome wagon for?"

"Coffee." Helen says, "Just brewed."

He smiles thankfully at her, but his eyes go back to Grace's. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, Lieutenant Fleming--"

"Bearer of semi-bad news, I'm afraid." Grace says, ignoring the way her heart picks up a little at his half smile. She rushes to finish before she can see his face transform - he can't afford any more bad news. "Doc wants to see everyone, just a quick chat. After that there's food in the mess."

He nods. "What's one more doctor?" He mutters. She suspects she wasn't supposed to hear that. Then, louder, "You heard her, gents. Doctor's orders."

They grumble a little, but head into the infirmary behind Grace and Helen, taking a cup of coffee each as they go. Helen follows behind, empty tray tucked under her arm. She looks back at Grace, but Rosie is lingering behind, twisting the brim of his cap in his hands, and Grace can't bring herself to leave him out here alone.

She waves Helen on, telling her she'll catch up in a minute.

“Captain?”

He starts, like he forgot she was there. He also looks like he’s forgotten about his promotion. And that’s the thing with flying — a promotion isn’t always wanted. Deserved, certainly. But it often comes at the expense of other pilots, and it’s always a tough pill to swallow. “How’s it been? How’s— everyone?” He asks her. His face is so earnest. It makes her throat tight.

“As well as we can be, Captain. Most of the replacements are here.” She hesitates before continuing. She’s been here right along, with the Red Cross girls and the doctor and the other nurses. But just because she’s been here as long as everyone else doesn’t mean she understands what the flight crews have gone through. “How was your week off?”

“Too long.” He says, no hesitation. His smile is small, wry, a barely-there upturn of his lips. “I wanted to get back.”

“And you’re alright?” The question comes out almost without her permission. They don’t even know each other that well - she’s patched up a few of his scrapes and bruises and they’ve made idle conversation as he checked on some of his crew that ended up in the infirmary, but this is bordering on too casual.

But she’d argued with him, the day before he went on leave. She’d been too casual then, too, and so had he, both of them lost in the emotions of the Munster mission.

It feels a little awkward now, but she does her best to press on.

She can’t help but worry about him. She admires him, at the heart of it. The way he kept his men together through it all, the way he always has a kind word and a joke for anyone who needs it.

She just hopes he’d say so if he’s the one who needs it, this time.

“I’m as good as I can be, Lieutenant.” He replies.

“Grace.” She reminds him softly. “It’s— you don’t have to call me Lieutenant.”

“Grace, then.” He echos. “I’m okay. Have to be. For them.”

“I hope—“ she pauses, looking down at her shoes. “Forgive me sir, but I hope you know that we’re all here for you. What you went through—“

“I know.” He interrupts her, not unkindly. “You think we haven’t seen the way you’ve been there for us? Even when you thought we didn’t notice?” He shakes his head. “You write our letters when our hands shake, and get us extra blankets, and tell us it’s going to be okay when it’s—“ He stops himself, shaking his head.

When his eyes meet hers, they’re so soft she can barely stand it. This is dangerous, what this conversation is turning into, but she’s also relieved to hear that what she’s been doing besides being a nurse and keeping them alive has made a difference.

“I appreciate it more than I can put into words, Grace.” His voice is rough.

There’s a long moment of prolonged eye contact. Her senses are screaming, danger, danger! But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t look away.

“You just keep yourself and those boys alive, Captain.” She says, her voice thick. “For the rest of us.”

He salutes, a jaunty thing that lightens the mood. “Yes ma’am.”

She laughs, and he grins at her in response. “Go on, you have to meet with the Doctor too. Just standard procedure.”

He hums. “Heard a lot of that the last week.” He takes a few steps away and then stops, “Grace?” His face is suddenly boyish, shy. “You’d better call me Rosie. Or at least by my first name.”

It feels right — she’s given up calling anyone else by their rank anymore. They’ve been through too much for that. The new guys will be an adjustment - she’s not sure she can manage getting attached to any of them. Because it’s inevitable, what happens after.

But the line has already been crossed with this man, looking at her in the fading sunlight.

“You got it, Rosie.”

His answering smile stays with her until the next day, long after the roar of B-17s fades into the distance.

#rosie rosenthal x oc #masters of the air fic #mota fanfiction #i am…. going crazy???!#he’s got a hold on me guys it can’t be ignored anymore #please welcome grace fleming #softspeirs mota fanfiction #oc: grace fleming

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phantomphangphucker · 9 months ago

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Phic Phight - Death’s Brought Me Company

@Mimca @thesilentbard @carelisswriting @kinglazrus

There are times Vlad is truly baffled at how irresponsible, foolish, reckless, inane, stupid, dangerous, dense, careless, thoughtless, witless, idiotic, and hazardous, Maddie and Jack could be. They were his friends, yes, but they were a menace to everyone around them and he is not impressed with their son becoming their lastest ‘screw up’.

Vlad hums as he sorts through a few papers, there wasn’t too much approvals he needed to go over and sign but it was still work all the same. It would take him a few hours at least, rather than the seven plus hours poor people had to work but well that’s the perks of wealth no matter how questionably immorally acquired. That questionable morality was why he didn’t bring up his business around those friends of his, they didn’t exactly approve of how Vlad got himself to where he is today. He finds it to be rather hypocritical considering those two worked in an area that was highly morally questionable as well, and he highly doubts they’ve achieved everything they have though one hundred percent legal means as well. Alas, he had little interest in arguing such things with them, both could be rather dense after all.

He’s making good time on this application for zoning investigation and work arounds, which was starting to look like he’d definitely have to deal with it personally and with a little intimidation perhaps. Then his phone goes off, he’s tempted to let it simply go to voicemail, no one was truly entitled to his time or immediate attention after all. Then the caller id tells him it’s them, it’s Jack and Maddie, and any ideas of giving the caller(s) the cold shoulder goes out the window. They’d caught up with him four days ago? He’d given them his condolences for their portal, while also adding in some maybe snide remarks about how ‘at least there was no tragic accidents this time’. Secretly, he wanted that to be a success, in part because he knew they’d just keep trying and he’d rather them succeed before hurting themselves. The other part was simply that he can then show them his portal in proper, since they didn’t want seeing his to influence their own work; establish something themselves without others input was something he could respect. But without them being able to sense and feel the flow of ectoplasm even he’s not sure how they’ll manage it. The fact that they’re calling again so soon means either it has indeed worked and they had only needed to fiddle with it a bit more, or someone’s been hurt. All he can do is hope it’s the former, as he picks up the phone, “Maddie? Jack?”.

It’s Maddie’s voice he hears, hearing her voice before Jack’s excited greetings was never a good thing. The last time that happened Jack had gotten himself hospitalised from a head on collision with a semi truck. The time before that, Jack had somehow gotten the house teleported into the mirror dimension, which Vlad hadn’t even known existed. Her voice is worried, “Vlad, I think we messed up”.

Oh no. Vlad sighs, folding up the paperwork that won’t be looked at again today, and puts a few of his fingers to his forehead as he replies, “what happened? Are you two okay?”.

“We’re… fine-”.

“And! Our portals working!”. Ah there’s Jack, there’s excitement in his voice but it’s… far too subdued for the man. Very far too subdued. Something’s gone wrong.

Did a ghost come through their portal? A dangerous one perhaps? Or is the Infinite Realm side location an unpleasant one? Is the portal unstable? There’s lots of possibilities.

“Jack dear, let me explain”.

“Right, sorry Mads. Hey Vlad!”.

Vlad rolls his eyes a little fondly, also slight annoyed of course, Jack could be too eager and exuberant, “yes hello, Jack. Now do explain, Madeline”.

“Maddie”, she clears her throat, “after the portal didn’t work we decided to go for a walk, to try and think in the fresh air and cheer up”.

Perfectly reasonable and expected so far.

“We even formulated a new shaft design we were going to try and work in, but when we got back Jazz… screamed-”.

Jack butts in again, “it was awful and I never want to hear that from my precious princess ever again”; Vlad can hear the man physically shudder. Yes, he supposes hear one’s child scream is never good or pleasant.

“Agreed, Jack. But-”, she sighs, “-it was from the lab, Vlad, so we ran down, worried of course-”. It sounds like she’s bitting her nails, something she only did when very worried. “-the last time anyone screamed in a lab was you and that was terrifying”.

Vlad grumbling, “oh I’m well aware”, shaking his head, “is young Jasmine alright?”.

“Yes, yes, thankfully. But… Danny’s not”. Well butter biscuits, Vlad gets up immediately to go grab his coat as she continues, “apparently Danny saw how upset we were and thought he’d try to fix the portal for us-”.

Vlad pauses with one arm through his jacket sleeve, he almost squawks but he absolutely does not squawk, “what”; he knows a bit of his ghostly power leaked into his voice and that made his response less pleasant on the ears, but he hardly cares. “How did he even get down there”.

She doesn’t chastise him for using his more ghostly voice over phone, meaning she might be concerned enough to have not even noticed, “we… might have forgot to lock the lab when we left-”.

Jack butting in yet again, “but the kids have been drilled on safety! He really should have known not too!”.

Vlad growls low, “they’re children, Jack”, pulling his jacket on fully and taking a breath, “children are not known for abiding by rules and are well known to have invincibility complexes”. Daniel was a stellar and unfortunate example of that. That boy had tried to eat a pie that was actively on fire before, and don’t get him started on the child trying to ‘bake himself’ or the blackbird pie incident.

Maddie swallows, “I know we weren’t as careful as we should have been, Vlad. Danny… wandered inside the portal to see if he could fix it and it turned out we… forgot to unplug it as well and… forgot there was an on switch inside that needed to be turned on”.

Vlad knows well his eyes flash red, “excuse me, would you care to repeat that”, that was practically a threat and he knew it. How could they be so! So! So stupid! So utterly and completely and unbelievably moronic! “You left it plugged in, forgot an on switch INSIDE THE MACHINE, failed to lock the Cracker Jack door, and left a dangerous highly volatile machine in working condition alone while your children were home. Are you two actively TRYING to hospitalise people?!”. It takes some effort to not simply crush his phone, “college I can understand, we were all too excitable, but now? Absolutely not”, growling again, “now. What is Daniel’s condition”. That’s a demand not a question.

He can hear the wince in her voice, good, and her tones shaky, for a change he’s hoping that’s from fear of him. “He’s… he’s out of the hospital now, Vlad. He’s-”.

What. “You mean to tell me he was in hospital and you didn’t call me immediately. Madeline, what the butter biscuits is wrong with you two!”. This was completely unacceptable. He paces in a circle, he wanted her to just hang up already so he can head over there personally and shoot something just to get across how unbelievably pissed and unimpressed he is. As it is he’s seriously debating throwing one of his crystal whiskey glasses at a wall.

“I, we knew you’d be mad and, Vlad, it’s not the same. There’s no ecto-acne, his hair’s the same. The doctor even said he was having a perfectly normal reaction to high voltage electrocution. His vitals weren’t even wonky!”.

Jack blurting out, “we were confused! Relieved but confused!”.

Vlad pauses, stilling, “he… doesn’t have ecto-acne? None of my symptoms?”. That… then perhaps the boy would be fine? Wouldn’t be changed by them?

Maddie clearly bites her lip, “no and I thought that, maybe, if you were around, with your ecto-field, that might change things. I thought it was a risk and I knew you’d come immediately if we called”.

Vlad pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs aggressively. He supposes they very well could have a point there. As there would be no way to safely confirm if Vlad being near would have some effect on someone else who got caught in a portal. It would genuinely be a risk. Even if she had explained that worry to him he knows he would have gone anyway, he wouldn’t have been able to take her at her word. He still can’t, won’t. “I want you to send me his medical records, immediately. I’ll read them on my way”.

“I’d chastise you about distracted flying but, I understand. We’ve poured over them already and they really are normal. But, he’s- something’s not right even if he keeps saying he’s fine”.

Vlad glares at a wall, it melts slightly, “butter biscuits”, at least his tablet pings an email, him transforming as he opens it, it’s the medical files. Him nodding to himself, at least they had the files on standby already, “got them. I’ll be there shortly. However, do know that I am not impressed”, and he hangs up without giving them the chance to say goodbyes or see you soons.

Him flying out a window and flipping through his tablet, the files are… somehow perfectly normal and Vlad is a little baffled. His own records showed himself as having a disturbingly low heart rate and blood pressure, an extreme feverish body temp, and far too few breaths per minute. Daniel’s was: eighty two bpm, one-twenty over eighty mmHg, ninety-seven point nine Fahrenheit, and a respiratory rate of eleven. His respiratory was on the lower end but it wasn’t actively concerning, Vlad himself often averaged only four.

Normal was good. But Madeline said she still felt something wasn’t right, perhaps she was simply paranoid or perhaps the electrocution had simply raised Daniel’s vitals for a period of time. Vlad shaking his head, the fact that the boy had been inside of the portal and electrocuted instead of simply blasted in the face by pure ecto-energy was horrific; but perhaps such an unfortunate experience would prevent him from becoming something no longer truly human. Vlad did consider himself better for how he is now, but that didn’t make the process of become content with it a pleasant one, it also didn’t make being a halfa a good thing as it arguably was not. It was a rather lonely existence, which Vlad would rather not see changed in this particular instance. It could one day get him experimented on by his own government, and under that same government he did not truly have rights. He had nothing he could compare himself to, for curiosities sake or for the sake of his well being. There was also the simple fact that having powers resulted in his view of the world and other people being undeniably altered. The mental changes and instincts were an entirely separate issue, one he’s embraced, but that applies to him and perhaps not to a young teenage boy.

He now rather wished it had been Maddie or Jack that had gotten caught in their own creation, rather than a child.

Either way, he’s here now. Floating invisibly above the FentonWorks building and feeling the desire to blast that sign of theirs out of frustration and annoyance. One would think after what happened with him they’d be even slightly more careful, but apparently not. He lands with a scowl, phasing through the front door and, at the sight that only Maddie and Jack appearing to be around, transforms back into his human form and drops his invisibility; both of them jerk a little and he glares instead of half heartedly apologising or mocking them. “Where is he”. It’s not a question and they know it. Vlad can smell that the boy’s not here, and he’s none too pleased about that.

Jack rubs his neck, “school”. While Maddie winces. Vlad glaring a little more, “he just got of the hospital for at the very least being electrocuted and you sent him to school”.

Maddie standing up from her chair, hands up pacifyingly, “he wanted to, Vlad”, dropping her hands, “even Jazz tried to get him to stay home but he got mad at her for being overbearing and still left”.

Jack frowning, “he’s been making almost every excuse he can to not be here, kinda part of our worry you know?”, and laughs in that awkward way that Vlad knows means he’s upset and possibly even scared.

Vlad rubs his temples and walks in further, “I suppose that’s acceptable then, but what teen actually wants to go to school?”.

“Jazz thinks he’s traumatised and doesn’t want to be around the portal”, Maddie frowns, “which is understandable”.

Vlad scowling, “yes, yes it is”.

Jack tilting his head in confusion, “but he’s still cleaning the lab, like he’s supposed to so I don’t think Jazz’s theory makes sense”.

Vlad blinks at the man, he can’t be serious. “You’re telling me, you have Daniel who was just in a portal accident cleaning your lab? Surrounded by ectoplasm samples and mess. Jack, I am genuinely debating trying to beat you up”. The man looks apologetic rather than frightened, which is a fair bit grating. Giving Maddie a hard look, “how can you justify him being around that if you were worried about him being around me”.

“We don’t really know how different your ecto-field is, Vlad. And you give off a ton more than any samples we have. For all any of us know there could be some form of halfa gene or energy in yours”.

Alright, Vlad can admit that could very well be the case. Sighing, “fine. I still don’t approve”, moving into the kitchen/dinning room fully, “now what about him seems wrong? I know him being avoidant, of you two or the lab or merely the portal would not be enough to set off alarm bells”. After all, such behaviour would be perfectly normal and human.

Maddie frowns and grabs a sample vial out of the fridge, “we found blood and ectoplasm in the bathroom this morning, and remembering what… happened with you and your wings, well”, she hands it over to him and he gets her concern immediately, it looks like one of his own samples. “It’s not separating out like human blood and ghost ectoplasm normally does. Normally does, with any sample that isn’t from you or someone severely contaminated long term”.

Vlad nods at the sample, this was near as good as proof to him. He winces a bit internally though, feeling a bit of a pang of sympathy for the boy. The wings ‘coming out’ as it were, was incredibly unpleasant. He’s glad Jack and Maddie had been there for that, to ‘help’ even if it was mostly them getting things straightened out and cleaning him up when he was frankly too exhausted to do it himself. However this meant they weren’t there for their son, which would be the more important one to be there for. Rolling his right shoulder a bit, “I’m assuming there’s more, because yes, him just being contaminated is a viable option”.

Jack nods, “he keeps dropping things and acts very freaked out after”. Maddie nodding at her husband then looking back to Vlad, “I’m fairly certain I saw his cereal spoon go through his fingers rather than just dropping it. And he has that unnerving aura around him that you do, I might be desensitised to it but that doesn’t mean I don’t still feel it sometimes”, and she laughs playfully a little.

Vlad glaring, flashing his eyes at her, “I’m not in the mood, Madeline”; making her wince. Vlad pinching the bridge of his nose yet again, eyes squeezing shut, “alright, so it would seem that Daniel is mostly likely a halfa now, correct?”. Dropping his hand and eyeing them as they both nod, “yet he did not have ecto-acne or abnormal vitals?”. More nodding, “and he’s being avoidant of a house full of ghost hunting gear as well as the two ghost hunters who reside in it?”.

Maddie smacks herself in the face immediately, Jack thumping his head down on the table. Maddie groaning, “why did we not clue in to that? Ugh. He’s afraid we’re going to hurt him or hunt him”. Jack snapping his head up, “we would never!”.

Vlad gives them a bit of a pitying look, eyeing Jack specifically, “you two found out the same time I did about my altered state of being, there was never a chance for me to have those kinds of worries”, scoffing, “not that I would have. But Daniel is a child. His brain isn’t even fully developed, it’s a wonder he didn’t run away on you. Of course he’s afraid of ghost hunters if he’s a ghost himself”. They both wince at least.

And the then house phone goes off, Maddie picking it up immediately, “hello?”.

Vlad tilts his head, his ghostly hearing making it easy to listen in. “Hey Mrs. Fenton. Was wondering if Danny could spend the night? We got a big project and apparently the dummy forgot to actually do his part”. That reeks of a lie, it’s not a bad one though, he’ll give what sounds like a teen girl that much; it was most likely that Samantha girl.

Maddie eyes the vial now sitting on the table, hopefully she’s thinking what he is, Daniel’s friends knew and were trying to help him, most likely with the fresh wings. Vlad would gamble a concerning amount of money on the belief that Daniel most certainly did not actually go to school and neither did his friends. Maddie shakes her head to herself, “I would really rather he come home, I’m sure any school work he needs to do is important but I’d like him home”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, the woman was going to make the boy a bundle of nerves, so he walks over and phases the phone out of her grip, making her jump. She glares at him and puts her hands on her hips, “what do you think you’re doing?”. Vlad simply smirks, said smirk likely airing on the ‘villainous’ side, before giving his attention to the phone, “tell young Daniel that his godfather would like to see him and that said grandfather is not unfamiliar with certain portal-related accidents, as it were”. Maddie looks worried. Him moving the phone away from his ear and covering the mic, “relax, dear Maddie. Being blunt with the boy is far better than making him scared to come home”.

The, “what are you talking about?!?”, that comes through the phone making all three of them wince from the static and warble. Maddie paling a little and leaning against the counter, after all, that kind of vocal effect was explicitly ghostly and one she’s heard from Vlad quite literally today multiple times. It was more solid proof. A different male voice, that isn’t spectrally infused, pipes up in the background, “dude, your voice?”.

Hmmm, yes his friends did indeed know. Vlad smirking a little again, “Daniel, tell that friend of yours not to worry about your voice, it’s perfectly normal when emotional”.

“Um. Uh. Okay?”. Oh the boy sounds so unsure and freaked out, Vlad almost wants to mock him a little. It sounds like he’s turned his head away from the phone, “um, so apparently what just happened is normal? And my uncle god father guy might be, you know, kinda like me or something? And I should probably actually go home”.

Then the girls voice again, “if your parents shoot you, I’m stabbing them and burying their bodies in my garden”.

The other male sounds like he’s frowning, “do you want us to go with? You know, moral support?”.

It would seem Daniel had good friends. A blessing indeed. Hopefully they were less reckless and idiotic than Vlad’s own friends, regardless of how fond of them he was. However, Vlad has no interest in explaining himself to three teenagers, Daniel needed the information the other two could hear it from him, “I’d much rather not have this conversation with three hormonal teenagers”.

Daniel is clearly still talking to his friends, “okay so that’s a no, Tuck. Apparently we’re too hormonal”.

“More like homicidal, I do have boots with knives inside them”.

“I’m not wearing your shoes, Sam”.

“You don’t need to wear them! Throw them!”.

“Your shoes weigh, like, twenty goddamn pounds?”.

The boy butts into the argument, “I’m not sure that matters anymore, man. You accidentally lifted up my dad’s car”.

“Shut up, Tuck. Ugh”. Daniel’s attention does seem to return to the phone at that, “am I in trouble?”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “hardly. The only ones in trouble are two reckless scientists who let this happen for a second time”; he throws another glare at the two who smartly wince and glance away.

Daniel almost excited whispers, “oh my god my parents are in trouble, that’s kinda awesome”; his friends laugh in the background.

“Well if you find that amusing, come home and mock them”.

Daniel sighs, “okay fine”.

Vlad nodding to himself, “good. Now for the love of all the Gouda in the world, do not try to bind or strap down your, let’s say, feathered friends, you’ll just damage them and bent feathers are hardly becoming of a man or boy”. Vlad took expert care of his wings and he wasn’t about to tolerate Daniel not doing the same, or everything forbid misshaping them.

This time Daniel actually squeaks, “okay”, then hangs up.

Vlad feels quite content with himself actually. Looking to Maddie and Jack, who still look rather awkward, “he’s coming. Now hopefully I don’t need to tell you two to avoid staring or trying to take samples from him”, he doesn’t like that they appear slightly confused, “Daniel isn’t me, I was and am an adult and an ecto-ologist myself, he is neither”.

Maddie sighs and nods to herself, “right right, he needs us a parents only and the last thing we’d want to do is make him feel like an experiment”.

Vlad nodding strongly right back, “indeed”.

Jack smacking his fist into his hand and springing up, “oh! We should change so we’re not in the, you know, ghost hunter stuff!”. Vlad chuckling a little, “that’s not a bad idea”, which makes the man run off upstairs. Maddie shaking her head fondly and moving to follow after him; Vlad watching her go.

They were fools but they cared, it was only too bad their foolishness had to bring harm unto others so often. Yes Daniel’s own actions had been foolish, much like Vlad’s had been, but that boy was a child and that made a world of difference. A child should have the expectation that something that could alter their very being and species wouldn’t be left unattended and plugged in inside an unlocked room. Daniel was well within reason to believe that the worst that could happen was a slight burn or small shock, a cut perhaps. Not death, by half or full.

Daniel arrives before his parents actually finish changing, getting in and out of biohazard suits wasn’t exactly easy, even for Vlad since he couldn’t phase through the material. Arguably this was for the best, Vlad was watching the door, leaning back against the kitchen entryway wall, as Daniel sticks his head in cautiously. Daniel spotting him, stares, looking confused, so Vlad gestures at his eyes and flashes them their ghostly red. Daniel jumps a little before relaxing and moving inside fully, he’s… holding a blanket around his shoulders even if it’s not doing much to hide that there’s something large underneath. Vlad definitely wants to mock him, very badly in fact, drawling a very sarcastic, “impeccable fashion choices, Daniel. I applaud you”.

Daniel scowls at him, “what else am I supposed to do, you jerk”, there’s a bit of humour in his eyes so Vlad counts that as a win. Daniel glancing around as the door shuts and he shuffles inside more, “where are, mom and dad?”.

“Upstairs at the moment”, Vlad eyes the ground around the boy, no shadow. Daniel is absolutely a halfa, even with wings he could still technically be merely extremely contaminated, but without a shadow there’s no way he’s fully human. Light simply passed through their kind in the same way it did with ghosts and there was nothing that could be done about that. Which yes, was part of why Vlad preferred to avoid needless public appearances.

Daniel nods, eyeing Vlad, “so, where’s yours? Or were you just yanking my chain?”.

Vlad rolls his eyes at that, pushing himself off the wall and letting his wings unfurl out through the holes he had in the backs off all his clothes these days, crimson red feathers lining the inside and his white ones covering the outside. Stretching one out to flick Daniel in the forehead with the primary feathers. Daniel stares wide-eyed, “how did you do that? How do you hide them?! I have so many questions”.

Vlad chuckles, his blatant curiosity, with no hints of horror or distrubia was a genuinely welcome reaction. It reminded him of Jack, except without getting his very fresh at the time feathers grabbed and prodded. Folding his wings up against his back again, though leaving them out instead of reabsorbing them, “I imagine so”, walking over towards Daniel and grabbing the blanket he’s still using as a cover and pulling it up some, ignoring Daniel’s clear embarrassment. “We’re malleable things, absorbing them inside ourselves is a simple though uncomfortable task”. The constant full sensation in his torso and the aches from wings that wanted to be stretched out could be incredibly annoying and cumbersome. Humming, “yours are much too fresh though, you need to heal first. I can say the colour seems to suit you well though”. The red inner feathers of his own used to confuse him, until he grew up and stablised into his more vampiric appearance anyways. Daniel’s were white and seemed to shimmer or sparkle like fresh snow, which went well with his pale skin; they even felt cold like snow, was his core an ice type perhaps? The black tipping on all the feathers, as well as his lesser coverts and alula feathers being black was a decent accent and went well with his dark hair. If Vlad had to guess, Daniel’s tertial feathers are black as well.

Daniel blinks, apparently a little baffled by how calm Vlad was being, “yours… go with your eyes?”

Alright yes, Vlad laughs at that, “they suit me more than you can tell, boy”.

Daniel snorts at that and rolls his eyes, “whatever, old man”, though his fidgeting fingers give away his nerves.

“Alright! Is he here yet!”, Jack pops down the stairs in his stupid ghost themed overalls, how did that man not understand that those things did not flatter him at all? Jack brightening up at seeing his son, and basically bounding down the stairs. Daniel pulling the wing out of Vlad’s grasp and hiding it under the blanket again, “oh! Um, hi? Dad?”, cringing dramatically, “what are you wearing?!”. See even Daniel understands it’s unbecoming.

Vlad has no desire to play a game of ‘beat around the bush’ so he nods to Jack, and Maddie as she comes down as well, “he doesn’t have a shadow, meaning that yes, he’s a halfa as well”.

“I- wait what?”, Daniel looks down, “what do you mean in don’t have a shadow?”, does a little circle spin ‘thing’ while staring at the ground and blinking, “holy shit I don’t have a shadow”.

“Language, my boy”. Had he seriously not noticed? Well Vlad knows which parent he got that lack of attention to detail from, as endearing as that particular flaw could be it wasn’t a good one.

Maddie gives Vlad a bit of a pinched smile before making a point to hold Jack back from crowding the boy, her walking up and ruffling Daniel’s hair, Daniel eyeing the bare hand cautiously. “To be fair, sweety, we didn’t notice either”.

Perhaps he got it from both of them. How unfortunate. Vlad shakes his head, stepping back a little to let the mother look over her son and the father hover close enough by that it doesn’t quite qualify as crowding. Vlad huffing, “considering you didn’t notice an entire misplaced on switch I’m not sure why I’m surprised”.

Both parents wince but Daniel blinks at him a bit owlishly, it absolutely does not come off as human, “wait, how do you know that?”.

Jack rubbing his neck and getting his son’s attention, “well, we inspected the portal after your, uh, accident. We wanted to know how it happened, since we thought it was completely nonfunctional”.

“Right. Your ground breaking life’s work. Got it”. Even Vlad cringes from that response, it was explicitly bitter.

Jack holds up his hands, looking awkward as he should for that comment. “No not just how you got it to work. More like how it worked at all, every other time we’ve failed it had to be completely reworked so it should have been fine not being unplugged… or locked… which yeah was really stupid of us. Heh”, and rubs his neck.

Vlad sighs, touching a few fingers to his forehead, “what your buffoon of a father is trying to say is that he wanted to know how you were even able to get hurt”, then glaring at Jack, “I am still fully tempted to smack both of you over the head, know that”.

Daniel actually looks amused and pleased at that; progress. And stares a little surprised when Jack smacks Vlad on the back a couple of times, paying no mind to the wings. Muttering to himself, “Huh, I guess they are okay”. Meanwhile Vlad’s simply trying to stop himself from getting knocked over.

Maddie nodding and startling the boy a little, “we’ve had twenty years to get used to him and all the changes that happened, you’re fine and we definitely are not going to shoot you or anything of that sort”. Jack nodding and grinning in agreement readily.

Vlad inspects his nails a little, “I’d be quite annoyed if that wasn’t the case”, waving at Jack dismissively while speaking to Daniel again, “your father was more explicitly responsible for my little accident”, huffing, “though I’ll admit sticking my face directly in front of a potentially viable proto portal was indeed foolish”.

“I mean, at least you didn’t try to put it around your neck to wear it like a collar”.

Vlad blinks at the boy, a bit affronted, “that would be utterly imbecilic rather than just foolish”.

Maddie blinks before putting a hand over her face again, “right, yeah”, looking at Vlad, “we caught him doing that with another proto portal model, that’s why we stopped making them”.

Vlad smacks Daniel over the back of the head immediately, “you are a danger to yourself and a complete moron. Child or no”.

Daniel squawks, “ow! Hey!”, and covers his head with his hands, “it was funny!”; this all resulting in him dropping the blanket, which thumps to the ground quietly considering how much it doing so revealed. Daniel blinking owlishly again and eyeing his folks as they get their first proper glimpse of the wings.

Vlad humming to himself while the boy has an internal crisis or two, “hmmm, I was right, your tertials are indeed black”.

“My, what?”.

Vlad unfolds a wing some and gesture at the fluffier feathers that stayed close to his side and back, “the inner most feathers, the only ones that actually stay ‘fluffy’”, gesturing at Daniel’s fuzzy fluffy feathers, “you have feather down right now, that’ll go away with age”. Vlad only had to put up with that for around two years if he remembers right, Daniel’s would likely stick around for at least four; that thought making him snicker at the boy, “give it a few years, at least four, I’d say”. Daniel pouts at him.

Jack beams, “meaning more time for cute baby ghost pictures!”; that Daniel absolutely fully groans at, burying his face in his hands. “We only have five of Vlad”.

Vlad scowling, “and here I thought I burned all of those”.

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t now?!”, Jack’s grin is almost mean which is strange to see on the jubilant man, “now Danny-boy can see them!”. At least that makes Daniel laugh into his hand.

Vlad rolls his eyes, though he supposes the bonding would be worth the embarrassment. As well as reassuring to the boy that he’s normal, for their species anyways. Though… Daniel still has his wings as scrunched up and as pressed into himself as possible, he wasn’t relaxing them at all. Sighing at the boy, “the more difficult you make healing the longer it’ll take to be able to hide them”.

“Huh?”.

Vlad ignores him, as well as his parents looks of concern, and moves around Daniel to physically grab the wings and force them open and away from his back a bit. Daniel yelping and attempting to jerk out of Vlad’s grasp, “hey!”.

Vlad just glares at the very sloppy stitch work and bandaging attached with, of all things, scotch tap. This would scar horrifically if not corrected immediately, “by Gouda, who did this? This is going to heal horribly even without you trying to scrunch your wings up out of existence. Kitchen table, now, we’re fixing this”. Vlad doesn’t care that the boy is clearly embarrassed when Jack and Maddie tilt their heads over or physically move to get a look and cringe themselves.

At least Daniel does move into the kitchen, not moving his wings at all from the position Vlad effectively moved them into, good, smart boy. Daniel grumbling, “Sam did and I think she did a great job”.

“A great job for a teenager not for a doctor. Any doctor who did this would lose their license on the spot or I’d sue them into bankruptcy”.

Jack brings over their medi kit, the one they’d use on him on the rare occasion it was needed. Vlad liked to pride himself on rarely getting injured even when dealing with ghosts. Of course one can’t employ ghosts without out first proving why they’re the employer and not the employee. Skulker in particular took a while to beat down into submission. Maddie getting out what’s needed from the kit while Daniel sits down on one of the stools, “um, why is the thread in there glowing?”.

Maddie’s response is automatic and she doesn’t take her eyes off of her task, “it’s phase proof, so you won’t accidentally phase it out of your skin”.

“Oh okay, yeah that makes sense I guess”.

Vlad rolls his eyes, “I would hope so. Now hold still and don’t fold your wings in”. It was fairly clear Daniel was more comfortable with him touching his wings, likely because Vlad had his own pair, so Vlad maneuvers the wings around for Maddie as she does her work. Vlad, figuring he might as well use this time to explain and to distract the boy from the pain of this, hums, “Jack and Maddie said you’ve been clumsy, dropping things, so I take it your having issues with the powers?”. Vlad had had some control issues in the beginning, but not much. In fact, Vlad didn’t get his powers for quite a while after his accident and they came one by one and very painfully. They always stung and felt foreign the first few times, it seemed like Daniel might not be having such issues.

Daniel flushing, “oh um, yeah? It’s just comes so easily, naturally or whatever, that it kinda just keeps happening?”.

Vlad quirking a single well manicured eyebrow, “and it doesn’t hurt? At all?”.

Daniel turns his head to give Vlad a confused look, “no? Should it?”.

Jack looks relieved and gets Daniel’s attention, responding before Vlad can, “oh yeah, it was pretty bad every time a new one cropped up. Sure it was cool too! But the pain and it making his ecto-acne flair up really made it kinda suck. I totally freaked out the first time”.

Maddie nodding as she threads some more of the ecto-line, “to be fair, your best friend falling through his bed, and all his medications and monitors, while screaming would be very scary to anyone”.

Vlad huffing, “I will not admit to being terrified at the time”, was saying that basically admitting to it? Absolutely not and no one can convince him otherwise.

Daniel huffing, “then I’m not admitting to being scared either, jerk”, shaking his head gently, hopefully with the purpose of not disturbing Maddie or causing himself more pain. How well he could hide pain was a little concerning. “Should I be worried I’m not getting pain from it and stuff? And each time you got a new one?”, Daniel quirks an eyebrow, “you didn’t just get everything all at once? Ecto-acne?”.

“That level of pain would have likely knocked me unconscious for multiple days, so no. I got my powers slowly over multiple years, which were spent hospitalised”. Humming and tapping his chin, he wonders why they’re different like this? He’s clearly a halfa and not a full ghost, otherwise he wouldn’t look human at all and he wouldn’t still have a human scent; yes it was tinted with ectoplasm but it was still human. Could it be because his own accident was with a proto portal and not a genuine one? Or did the size and power output matter? Perhaps how much of the body was engulfed at once? Since it sounded like Daniel’s entire body was blasted all at once, while only his face was affected. Perhaps that was why Daniel didn’t get ecto-acne?

Jack scratches his head, “I don’t think? you need to worry? There really isn’t an ‘normal’ way this works since Vlad’s the only halfa we all know of. And your, uh accidents, were pretty different”.

Daniel quirks an eyebrow at Jack then turns the look on Vlad, clearly wanting an explanation. Vlad shrugging like talking about it didn’t really bother him, “I got blasted in the face, and only the face, by a proto portal that quite possibly had contaminated ectoplasm in it. Where as it sounds like you got blasted head to toe by a genuine fully functional portal, that would definitely have been using pure ectoplasm otherwise it wouldn’t be working”, frowning, “I also did not get electrocuted, so it is not as if you got out of this pain free”.

Daniel winces, “yeah that wasn’t fun”. Maddie and Jack also wincing, it looks like Maddie’s got the first wing back tear stitched up properly now.

Jack rubbing his neck and eyeing his son, “we are really sorry that happened though”.

Daniel shrugs, making Vlad smack him over the head again, Daniel grumbling and rubbing the back of his head, “ow. And it’s fine, dad. I shouldn’t have been messing with stuff”.

Vlad scoffs, “it shouldn’t have been accessible for you to mess with in the first place”. Making both parents look thoroughly chastised, good.

Daniel glares at Vlad, “I would have picked the lock anyways”.

Maddie glares at his back for that, “since when did you pick up lock picking, mister”.

“Uh, Tuck has a bad habit of locking himself out of his house? Sam thinks it’s too funny to help and he can’t pick a lock to save his life?”.

Vlad grins meanly, “what a budding little criminal you are”.

“Hey!”.

Vlad studiously ignores the glares Maddie and Jack throw him, clearly trying to discourage Vlad from being a more illegal bad influence on their kid. Vlad putting a proud hand to his chest, “perhaps you shall follow in my footsteps and start robbing banks”.

Maddie’s scowl can be heard in her voice, “Vlad”. Jack pouts at him, “you know we would have paid your hospital bills”.

“I have no interest in being indebted to others because of money, such things are beneath me”.

Daniel gives him an affronted look, pity, “I am not robbing banks, what the hell uncle?!? Why would you use powers for that?!? I’d use them to, like, рⷬrͬoͦᴛⷮeͤcͨᴛⷮ people or something first”.

Vlad blinks at the inhuman ghostly subvocal to that, which he’s sure Jack and Maddie didn’t pick up on. They didn’t pick up on it when he himself did it, over that pesky little possession obsession. Perhaps Daniel’s own obsession was protection based… Vlad may have to cautious of that, as he could see himself bothering a protective obsession. Beyond Jack’s and Maddie’s well being, he hardly cares if his endeavours harm others. He’s not going to comment on his suspicions though, it was rude to out another ghosts, or halfas, obsession like that and opened yourself up for attack. Jack grins, “that’s my boy!”. Making Vlad roll his eyes at the large man.

Daniel flushes though and Vlad can pick up on the slightly concerned off put look on his face, the boy likely noticed something was off with his comment. That there was a strong pushy undercurrent of pure want in there and likely in his chest as well; even if he’s positive Daniel’s core hasn’t developed enough for him to genuinely feel it yet. Daniel clearing his throat, “so um, our accidents were really different then”.

Vlad smirks at the boy, who glares back, before nodding his head, “indeed. And I suspect my ecto-acne played a large role in my being in pain and perhaps also why I took years for my powers to develop”.

Jack nods, tapping his chin, “I really wish we knew exactly why that ecto-acne happened”. Vlad nodding readily, it was something they would probably never figure out. (He would later find out, due to his ecto-acne returning and Daniel trying to help him, that it was because of pop in the filtrator. He was incredibly infuriated by that, and Jack apologising profusely didn’t little to temper his anger).

Vlad eyeing Daniel, Maddie seemed almost done with the other wing back tear, “now, care to enlighten me on your abilities? It would be best to confirm if they’re the same as mine”. At the boy eyeing him cautiously Vlad rolls his eyes with a huff, “invisibility, intangibility, gravity nullification or floating in layman’s terms, enhanced senses, increased physical ability and durability, duplication, ecto-blasts, ecto-shields, transformation, overshadowing, healing factor, teleportation, body modification or contortion, mild electrokenisis, pyrokenisis, power augmentation, ecto-twister, and a resistance to anti-ghost tech”. He studiously ignores the proud smile on Maddie’s and Jack’s faces, they always got oddly proud over how powerful he was. Yes he himself took great pride in that, being able to best relatively any ghost he came across, but as full humans they should find that unsettling and perhaps it wounded his pride a little that they did not.

Daniel blinks in that owlish way again, Vlad’s going to have to talk to him about breaking that forming habit, then whistles, “well damn, uncle. That’s nothing to piss at”.

All three adults look at him disgusted. Vlad scowling deeply, “I would rather no one ever piss on me, Daniel. That is disgusting”. Right, he always forgets that Daniel has a rather peculiar and annoying sense of humour.

Maddie shaking her head while doing up the last stitch and standing up, stretching a little and handing her tools off to Jack to clean up, “alright, you’ll be good once I get you bandaged”.

Daniel looks over his shoulder and wing a little awkwardly, “uh, thank you? Thanks, mom”, and forces a smile at her.

She ruffles his hair with a genuine soft smile, “of course, Danny. You’re more than welcome to come to us if you ever get hurt, we can teach Sam and Tuck too if you’re more comfortable with that”. Jack holding up a finger, “and them knowing would probably be a good idea anyway. Never know when you’re going to get hurt!”.

Vlad sighing and massaging his temples, “yes of course, especially since as soon as the ghosts find out there’s another halfa, they’ll want to test your metal”.

Daniel blinks, “what?”, while Maddie sorts out which bandaging she wants to use.

“Fight you, Daniel. It’s part of how ghosts socialise and establish their standing compared to each other. Ghosts are very much rule of the strong”, looking to Jack, “you two have been sticking to teaching him combat, right”. Jack nodding readily, so Vlad nods back, “good”, looking back to Daniel, “now stop dodging the powers question. Your parents aren’t freaked out by mine, they won’t be freaked out by yours”.

Jack giving his son a thumbs up, “dont worry, Danny-boy. And ghosts vary a lot and you’re young and new, so if you’ve got less than Vladdie that’s likely super normal”. Vlad nods like that’s obvious, because it was.

Daniel flushes, “uh, well I don’t think I can do all that? But I think I’m, uh, stronger than I was a few days ago”.

Vlad nodding, “you were freshly formed, as it were, a few days ago. I doubt every single ability you’ll have would have developed immediately or within a few days”.

Daniel chuckles awkwardly and rubs his neck, Maddie tapping in his back to remind him not to move too much, making Daniel look even more awkward, “yeah I guess that makes sense”, tilting his head, “um, so far then, I don’t have anything you don’t I think? Invisibility, intangibility, the gravity thing, the heightened physical ability which I’m guessing is strength and speed and stuff, probably the healing factor, body morphing, I don’t think the voice echo thing counts as a power-”.

Vlad snorts, “it does not, good for intimidation though”.

Daniel makes a face at him but continues, “-my senses are better, and transformation”.

All three adults blink, surprised. Vlad titling his head, “you can transform already? Into your more ghostly appearance?”.

Daniel’s, “yes?”, is very awkward and mousy.

Jack beams and jumps, it’s rather embarrassing and childish. “Awesome! I bet you look awesome and very spooky!”, laughing, “it took ol’ Vladdie, like, six years to do that! And! He usually couldn’t hold it for very long!”.

Vlad grumbles, not pouts, grumbles at the man, “I was still healing and it’s an entirely deferent state of being, of course I had issues, Jack”. Jack just grins and laughs a little more.

Daniel tilts his head but chuckles at Vlad, “I think it’s easy, I mean sure I detransform, I guess, accidentally. And it’s kinda weird getting it to work, but when I really remember the how I can do it”.

Maddie nods, giving the bandaging a pat down before staring up, “alright, your good”, moving her head to be more in Danny’s line of sight, “you feel like showing us? Your other form?”, then looking at Vlad with a quirked eyebrow, “I’m sure your uncle Vlad wouldn’t object to showing you his?”.

Vlad waves her off, “oh but of course, you know how much I love to show off”.

Daniel looks at him blatantly curious, though clearly also nervous.

So Vlad steps back a bit and does a little bit of a dramatic bow while letting his transformation rings travel over his body. A little curious about Daniel’s muttered, “why are his black?”. Regardless, Vlad straightens up in his ghostly form, making a point to keep his feet planted in the ground.

Daniel stares a little, tilting his head at an angle that’s a little past humanly possible, “wow you look way different”, then snickering, “very vampire, nice horn hair”.

Vlad is well aware he is being mocked. Today he’ll tolerate such insult, since he’s effectively explaining for the first time being a halfa to another halfa who is also a child, his godson at that. “Yes yes, laugh it up”.

“Did you always look this different?”.

“Yes and no, I bulked up a lot and my hair changed. The fangs, ear points, and claws are all adult ghost traits as well”.

Jack grinning at Daniel, “meaning you shouldn’t have them now but will one day”, and only grins more at his son’s groan.

Vlad nodding, crossing his arms, “and if you get into fights, you’ll likely bulk up at least in ghost form. Now, you wondered at my rings being black, are yours not?”.

Daniel shrinks down a little, “I, um. No?”. And glances around, all three adults giving him encouraging gestures. Daniel flushing a little and clearing his throat, nodding a little. Vlad has a genuinely hard time not mocking the boy when he mutters a very quiet, “I’m going ghost”, before the white -different indeed- rings appear. Perhaps a… catchphrase helped the boy focus on the change? Regardless all three eye the more ghostly version of Daniel as the rings finish their job. Vlad’s almost miffed at how the transformation did seem easy for him, but oh well.

Daniel’s ghost form has a black hazmat suit with white gloves and white boots, his hair’s also a very shocking white. Vlad’s a little surprised his green eyes still have black pupils and white sclera, perhaps that would change as he grew into adulthood? Some ghosts did have black pupils and white sclera though, so it may very well just be the way his eyes are naturally. Daniel… looks incredibly similar to his human half, far more than Vlad ever did. Perhaps it was due to how quickly his ghost form formed? “Well you certainly don’t look all that different”. Daniel just shrugs awkwardly and jumps a little, remaining floating in the air after, at Maddie ruffling his hair; Daniel's hair waved around almost flame-like at the action.

Jack grins at Daniel, “I say it suits you! You have a pretty strong glow too!”.

Vlad leaning over some to hold his own arm up near Daniel’s having to phase through some of the boys left wing, Daniel’s glow is actually brighter than his own, if only by a hair. If Daniel was equal to him in experience and skill then Vlad’s not certain he could actually win. That was slightly concerning, on a ghostly level, no strong ghost liked the potential of a stronger one. But it was also quite thrilling, this boy could perhaps challenge him and could be something special if trained well; that prospect was incredibly enticing actually. Very thrilling indeed. “A strong glow is good, no godson of mine should be weak”.

Daniel blinking and looking at his arm, “so my… glow means I’m strong?”.

All three adults nod, Vlad standing back up right and crossing his arms again, “a stronger glow means you’re shedding off a high output of ecto-energy, it means you’ve got a high amount of natural ecto-energy. That your body self produces and filters a larger amount of ecto-energy”, humming, “though it may very well be that all halfas are powerful by our nature, as it is we don’t have to expend our energy to merely exist; however it does use up energy to remain in our ghost form”.

Daniel nods, soaking up the information, oh having an apprentice was going to be delightful. “Yeah I’ve notice I get tired after a while”, tilting his head a little at Vlad, “and so we, I, am a halfa?”, and looks to his parents for confirmation as well.

All three nodding readily, Jack beaming, “half a ghost, half a human; that’s what all the ghosts went with! Even if most of ‘em would lie just to amuse themselves”.

Vlad shrugs, “many ghosts are alright enough, particularly the useful ones”.

Daniel frowning, “yeah I don’t think I’m going to be ‘using ghosts’”. Vlad scoffing and waving the boy off, far too moral, this one.

Maddie smiles, pleased, “well you will likely get into fights, Vlad’s made it clear that’s unavoidable, so I fully expect you to take target practice and your martial arts a little more seriously”.

Vlad gesturing with a hand, “and ghost power training, of course. A well aimed ecto-blast will get you much further than a thrown punch”.

“And if I can’t do that?”.

“I’ll be baffled if you can’t, but everything has a work around if you look for it”, grinning all fang, “hold up a hand and imagine that tingling vibration throughout your entire body flow into the air above your palm, condensing into a tight pulsating sphere”.

Daniel blinks but stares at his hand, furrowing his brows in concentration, he jumps a little as a green ecto-blast forms above his palm. Him startling himself, of course, results in him losing focus and sending the blast into the ceiling. Him laughing awkwardly, “oops?”.

Jack smacks him on the back, making the boys wings twitch, “no worries, Danno! You should have seen the amount of things Vladdie set on fire!”. Daniel chuckles, loosening up a little, until Jack grabs his wing to inspect them anyways, “now let’s have a look at these! Since you’re all patched up now!”, and basically pulls the floating Daniel off his stool.

The boy giving both Vlad and Maddie slightly pleading looks, Vlad shakes his head while Maddie gives him a soft smile, “just let your dad get it out of his system”. Daniel groans but does let Jack effectively manhandle him, spinning him in the air and stretching out his wings to inspect them better. Eventually Daniel stuck holding onto the table when Jack decides to see just how long Daniel’s wing span was. They were needlessly long wings, frankly. His humerus bone was practically the length of half of Vlad’s wing. Incredibly showy, like a peacock. He’ll have to see if that’s just for show, or if the boy can put genuine speed and power behind them.

Maddie crossing her arms at her husband, “Jack, dear, that’s enough, you’re going to give him a strain at this point”. Daniel grumbling a, “thanks mom”, when Jack sheepishly lets go of the poor boys wings.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Danny-boy!”.

Daniel glances around awkwardly, “it’s, uh, okay, dad”, rubbing his neck, “it’s better than you being scared of me or trying to hunt me or something”.

Jack’s, “we’d never!”, is thankfully immediate. As it should be. Daniel was his own son after all. Vlad would be quite displeased if he found out they were hunting him in any capacity.

Vlad blinking before smirking, turning his head towards the kitchen entry way, based on sound and scent those friends of Daniel’s have shown up, ears pressed up to the door perhaps. Vlad chuckles meanly, “you two can come in, instead of trying to spy. Your friend is perfectly fine”.

Daniel jerking in the air before zipping over to the door as if it was mere second nature to him already. Vlad is absolutely a bit jealous, not that he would admit to such feelings. Jack elbowing him, “he’s got the hang of this a lot faster than you”. Vlad snarls at the man, it’s a ‘playful’ threat and Jack absolutely knows that.

Meanwhile the door opens, a pale goth and dark-skinned geek poking their heads in; the goth’s scowling and the geek’s nervous. Them both rearing their heads back a little at Daniel’s face being practically right in front of their own, “hey! It’s okay, they’re cool, my uncle’s stupidly vampire themed though”.

Vlad sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “it’s stylish, boy. And I will not be explaining myself to your friends as well”, waving dismissively at the boy, “feel free to burden yourself with that explanation instead”. Regardless the two teens stare at Vlad, wide-eyed.

“So Danny’s not going to get shot, caged, or strapped down?”

“Danny-man, you’re either extremely lucky or stupidly unlucky, take your pick”.

At least the boy had good friends, ones that were seemingly serious about fighting his parents should they harm him. Good. They made for acceptable playmates.

Daniel blurting out, “did you guys notice I don’t have a freaking shadow anymore?”.

Both the teens snapping their heads down and blinking. Tucker shaking his head, “huh. You’d think that would be more noticeable”.

Vlad transforms himself back human as he walks over, eyeing the two teens and drawling, “you'd be surprised how much most people fail to notice”.

Sam snorts at him, “oh you’re the weird uncle, that explains so much”, pointing at Daniel, “doesn’t it, you weirdo”. Daniel simply pouts fondly at her.

Vlad quirking an eyebrow, “the ‘weird uncle’?”.

Daniel eyes him, still floating in the air, “you say some really strange stuff, okay? Like, you swear using food. That’s weird”.

“Far better than using foul language”.

“Gonna disagree on that one”; Daniel transforming back human and landing on the ground almost gracefully. Vlad sighing when the teen realises he’s sans a shirt, covering up with his wings before running up stairs for a likely baggy tank top. Daniel’s friends actively laughing at him before running into the house fully and chasing the boy up the stairs shouting about getting more ‘blackmail’ photos.

Vlad shaking his head before turning to Jack and Maddie who were watching the teens fondly, “I’m assuming you’re going to be doing quite a bit of sewing to make his clothing wearable for at least the time being”.

Maddie nodding at him, “there’s no way he’ll let me cut up his nasa varsity jacket but otherwise, of course”, frowning a little, “so you think he’ll be okay?”.

Vlad looking back up the stairs, “he seems accepting of it, shifting into comfort easily. With support there would be no reason for him not to be mentally well. Physically? I’d say he’s better off than I was, and his ecto-energy feels stable for a child ghost”. Maddie sighs in happy relief and Jack beams, giving him a thumbs up. Vlad still frowns at them, “you two got lucky with him, do not repeat this”.

Maddie’s, “we won’t”, is at least very firm. Jack nodding right after, looking up the stairs himself, “I can’t believe he’s not upset with us”.

Vlad shakes his head, “he blames himself for it entirely, regardless of that being incorrect. Which would be concerning, if I wasn’t fairly certain that he’s okay with this change. Confused, unsure, and nervous, perhaps. But not upset, angry, or sad”.

Maddie sighing again, “good. That’s good. And I agree, he seems more worried about our reaction than about being the way he is now. Being a halfa”, smiling a little, “though I’m sure he’ll ask a lot of questions”.

Jack nodding strongly, and crossing his arms, “as any curious teen should”.

Daniel’s head pops back out of his bedroom, “Vlad! Can we survive in the void of space?!”.

Vlad absolutely knows that tone meant the boy was going to do something impressively stupid. Flying to space most likely. “Yes. But you’re too new, if you lose your ghost form in space and that high up you’ll be in trouble”. The teen pouts at him, “boo. You suck”, and ducks back into his room.

At least it looked like he found a shirt he could get on.

Vlad giving Maddie and Jack pitying looks, “he’s quite the handful”.

Maddie putting a hand over her face and laughing a little. Jack chuckling loudly, “V-man! You were here when Danny attempted to eat a blob ghost!”.

“I unfortunately remember that and do not understand how that didn’t kill him”.

“Neither do we!”.

Maddie shaking her head and eyeing Vlad, “will you be staying a while?”.

Vlad inclines his head, “oh but of course, Maddie dear”, grinning, “I have a young halfa godson to apprentice after all”.

Jack laughs rather awkwardly, not unlike his son, “just don’t forget he’s our son! Don’t do too much of the parenting for us!”.

Vlad smirking, “I make no promises”; Jack, the utter fool, thinks Vlad’s joking. Vlad is not joking. If he can make an heir out of the boy then all the better, Jack and Maddie were hardly truly good parents even if Vlad himself highly doubts he’d be any better. However, Vlad was a halfa, and so was Daniel. Even if Jack and Maddie were truly great parents they wouldn’t be able to fulfil all his needs or fully relate to him. Vlad can and will.

Maddie sighing, picking up better that Vlad’s intentions weren’t exactly pure. “Please don’t. I know he’s a halfa, like you, but try not to get dangerously possessive of him?”.

He scoffs, moving to head upstairs, sending away his wings to make the stairs and hallway easier to navigate, “oh it’s much too late for that, I’m afraid”.

At least they follow him up, smart. Pointless, but smart. Besides, he doesn’t truly believe he can actually get Daniel as exclusively his or under his thumb in any sense. That boy was too moral and headstrong… and chaotic. Vlad opening the boys door to him standing ‘threateningly’ over his friends, wielding fist fulls of feathers like bombs; his friends already have a noteable amount of black and white feathers on them. Vlad sighing, “Daniel, why are you ripping out your feathers?”; Jack is wheeze laughing and Maddie looks like she thinks she’s won.

Daniel blinks, looking at Vlad but otherwise not moving, fist fulls of feather still held up in the air, “I claim comedic effect?”.

Tucker smirks, spitting out a feather, “he’s trying to suffocate us”.

Samantha’s smirk is far more mean, “i threaded some beads into his feathers earlier, he only just noticed. I am very smug”.

Daniel throws his feathers at her without hesitation. Vlad puts a hand to his face and sighs heavily, this boy was a menace in all the wrong ways and his half death was only going to encourage him.

Then Tucker looks to Vlad, “oh, I hacked your company by the way, just in case you abduct Danny or something”. Then going back to smacking Daniel and his wings, while the boy basically assaults both of his friends with the feathered things. Samantha also taking the time to look at Vlad, pointing aggressively at him, “and I have enough money to have you fully killed by somebody who has nothing”. Daniel smacking her harder with a shouted, “murder is bad!”.

Daniel’s friends were not going to help reel the boy in at all. As much as Vlad loves not being alone any more and the prospect of teaching another halfa, he’s a little concerned over what’s been given to him.

Maddie scowling, putting her hands on her hips, “Danny! You’re going to rip the stitching!”. While Jack cheers this mess on, “you go! Danno!”.

Hmmm, yes Vlad’s plate is going to be very full and he’s gotten himself involved in quite the half dead mess.

End.

Prompts: After the accident, the Fentons can't help but notice something wrong with Danny. And since Danny also has that terrible symptom of "being a teenager", he refuses to tell them anything. So they are reaching out to the only person who could possibly help: an old friend in Wisconsin. After the accident, Danny no longer has a shadow, and he isn't the first person to notice its absence. Ghosts have wings. Humans don't.Unfortunately for Danny, his body did not get the memo. In another universe, Maddie and Jack did visit Vlad in the hospital, and stayed in contact. What happens when Danny has his accident twenty years later?

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