#short girl hacks

[hollowedskin]

The foster kids still have to ask permission to get their hair cut and it's so fucking dehumanising that control of their bodies is handed to someone who isn't even allowed in the same room as them without being recorded.

"oh but it's just hair who cares" they do. They care because it's their body and they're being told it doesn't fucking belong to them, it belongs to their mother who isn't allowed to contact them except for supervised half hour visits every two weeks.

They are treated as objects and unpersons who are owned by their parents by the system and the law and it's fucking disgusting.

I feel for any kid who has had their choices about their body and appearance taken away. Being a child is awful, they get no rights, they get no respect. It's a horrible thing to do to a kid and it's a horrible message they're internalizing.

but like genuinely some people do actually get fucking weird about it and genuinely do seem mad about it. sucks to be you asshole but actually I've had enough people trying to control my hair in wy life so I'm going to grow it as long as i want AND talk about the annoying bits about it.

it's like a trans girl was saying a while ago like "if you even joke about cutting my hair off I'm going to kill you". i stopped going to the hairdresser because i was scared it was going to get cut because I'd grown up with school and family trying to control my hair so fuck off actually.

[gutsby]

Stupid Prizes

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Before you head back to college, your dad wants to go on one last family outing: the county fair. The only problem? Your secret fuckbuddy, Joel, is there.

Warnings: 18+. Sneaky, unprotected p-in-v. Joel pining for you while your dad is beside him, oblivious for now. Semi-public sex (on a ferris wheel—don’t ever do that). Gross misuse of a candy apple. Age gap. Jealous Joel. Teasing. Angst(!) Mentions of infidelity/abandonment.

Word count: 10.0k

The gingham dress was your best idea yet.

For Joel, nothing could’ve been worse.

He’d cum down your throat no more than ten minutes ago, and with just a glimpse of your new getup bounding down the stairs—you’d had to change after he painted your last one white—Joel almost inhaled his Heineken.

He coughed and sputtered and hacked the beer back up while you strolled past the sofa and grinned at your dad.

“Ready to go, old man?”

It was just a short red frock with a sweetheart neckline.

The fabric cinched at the waist and flowed with every step you would take. Turning slightly to toy with the hem, and teasing the only eyes on you, you corrected yourself:

“Sorry…old men, I mean.”

Something like amusement flashed in Joel’s eyes.

Didn’t seem to mind this old man’s cock down your—

“I was born ready, kid,” your dad answered, still messing with something on his key ring, “How ‘bout you, Miller?”

“Yessir.” Joel stood.

He recalled you saying something similar before opening your mouth in the guest bathroom just fifteen minutes earlier. Joel’s cock twitched in his jeans at the memory, and his cheeks might’ve tinged a little, remembering how fast he’d cum. You’d only smiled and sucked your thumb, getting a taste of the residue that had missed your chest.

“Quite a mess you made there, Joel.”

And you repeated those words, at length, with only you and him to know what it had meant to you both before.

You gestured to the smattering of crushed potato chips on his shirt, and your grin got bigger. Joel grew redder.

“Yeah…” he mumbled, brushing the crumbs off his front. He wasn’t nearly as fast with the comebacks as he was with other kinds of comings and goings, and he knew it. He set the bag of Lays aside and seemed ready to leave.

But when he’d licked the salt off his lips and caught you staring—when he saw his friend go back to the kitchen:

“I had to be quick,” he said. Then, lowering his voice, “You know better’n anyone what a messy eater I am.”

Of course you knew that. Joel winked at you, and you winked back, mostly making fun of the boomer move. He reached for you—the edge of your skirt scarcely hanging a fraction of the way down your thighs—and he opened his mouth to speak again, when there was the sound of heavy boots at the threshold of the room. Joel leaned past your body and snagged the bag of chips instead.

“Food for the road?” He turned to his friend.

“All you,” your dad replied, smiling and waving the chips off as he went for the front door, “I swear your stomach’s a bottomless pit, man. Eatin’ me outta house and home.”

Joel looked at you when your dad was past you both.

House and home ain’t the only thing I’m gonna—

“Let’s go,” you chirped, fast, “I call shotgun!”

This would be a long, long day, no doubt.

The county fair had been his friend’s idea. One last day of ‘family fun’ before his little girl went back to school out East, and Joel hadn’t seen Bellville in years, so he’d asked him if he wanted to join. After a shared, brief stint in abstinence camp, the answer should’ve been clear:

‘NO.’

But Joel hadn’t learned very much from the Fireflies in the less than 72 hours he’d spent living—and also fucking you—there, so he’d nodded and said ‘Okay.’

Now you were twenty minutes out from the fairgrounds with a near-depleted tank of gas in the truck, obliged to make a quick pit stop at a Texaco. It was the first time he’d been alone with you since you’d set off from Austin. The second his friend was gone and headed inside to buy a pack of smokes, he heard a seatbelt come undone.

Earlier, he had raced you and beat you to the car to lay claim on the passenger seat, so you’d been in the back this whole time. He barely saw you before he felt you, climbing over the center console and then into his lap.

Straddling him while the Eagles played faintly overhead.

“Feel fucking insane not being able to touch you right now,” you huffed against his lips, kissing him hungrily.

Joel groaned. Felt your lower half grind into his. Almost rutted his hips up and yearned to have you seated on something other than just his denim-clad crotch when he sucked in a breath and remembered where he was. He nudged your hips and fisted the fabric in his hand.

“You in this dress ain’t helpin’ me either,” he growled.

You grinned against him, then hiked the red-and-white material up your legs a little more. Joel felt something like a shockwave when he saw what was underneath it.

Or, rather, what wasn’t there at all: your panties.

“Bathroom quickie?” you said, already breathless, “I’ll tell my dad I got cramps. I’ve been so wet this whole ti—”

“Darlin’.”

Joel’s eyes had drifted down to the place where your body and his were touching—rubbing—now. Even from this limited vantage point, he could see a glistening patch sticking from your bare seam to his jeans, and it was pooling on the fabric. Practically oozing out of your cunt while you rocked your hips and begged him please.

“Please, just one. I’ll be good the rest of the day, daddy.”

“Fuck,” Joel hissed.

His pupils were wide, and his mind was seriously considering it. Stupidly so, he reckoned; your dad was bound to be back any second, and surely you couldn’t both be gone for more than five minutes without raising suspicions. It was a reckless endeavor, he already knew.

And when he saw his old friend strolling out the front doors of the Texaco, his decision was made for him.

He watched you scramble off his lap and back to your seat, body quick and lithe and giggling the whole way.

“Gonna get me murdered, girl,” Joel panted, gruff.

Your own smile didn’t waver; you just settled back into the middle seat and let your gaze trail out the window, trying to fix your eyes on something to calm you down.

You already had the sense that nothing would. Your teeth bit your bottom lip between them to forestall the threat of another laugh while your dad approached the vehicle.

From the radio, ‘Life in the Fast Lane’ kept playing.

As old as they were, Joel Miller and your dad had a funny way of acting more like kids than you ever had, at any age. As your trio approached the wide, gleaming gates of the Austin County Fair, you saw your dad nudge Joel, and Joel shoved him back, and somewhere in the midst of all the ribbing, you heard your dad say, clear as day:

“If I’m takin’ a whole day off work, I’m gettin’ hammered.”

You knew by that tone this would an interesting afternoon, to say the least. You held your ticket tighter.

And for a moment, you wished you’d worn underwear. It’d been a split-second decision to peel them off before skipping downstairs, and it had worked well enough—Joel walking with a limp all throughout the parking lot and trying to shield the tent in his jeans—but now you were the one in greater danger still. Seeing your secret family-friend-with-benefits in his tight, light, heather grey shirt and jeans, hips adorned with a hefty belt and moving deliciously with each new step he took, you were transfixed. Left to watch him and gawk and grow wetter between the legs with every passing second, there was nothing you could do about it now. Likely sensing this, Joel raked a hand through his grey-flecked hair and hummed to himself. His bicep bulged through the sleeve.

“Nice little view, ain’t it?” he asked, nodding to the outline of a dozen shining rides and attractions ahead.

Go fuck yourself, Joel.

“Can’t wait to ride that.” You pointed to the ferris wheel, though the finger in your mind was aimed closer to him.

“Funnel cake,” your dad beamed, eyeing a nearby stand.

The three of you weren’t walking for much longer before he insisted on buying one. Joel had had a hankering for lemonade himself, so he’d fallen in line behind you and your dad. When it was your turn to order, you paused.

Then, pointing again:

“Can you get me one of those?”

You’d had to stand on tiptoes to see it inside the display, but from Joel’s own height, he was certain to have seen what you meant. While your dad shilled out the cash, not batting an eye, the man behind him clenched his jaw.

Candy apple, hon? Real fuckin’ mature.

Your eyes met his as soon as you’d turned, treat in hand.

I thought you liked seeing big things in my mouth, Joel.

He would’ve scowled if he wasn’t next in line—and your dad wasn’t walking so close behind, sniffing his food.

Joel ordered his drink, drank it fast, and found his thirst no better quenched than when he’d started. You’d sat across from him at the table and made sure of that.

You dragged your tongue up the sugar-coated apple just like you’d done to his shaft that morning and blinked, savoring the taste. Feigning innocence as he looked on.

And what else could he do? If not watch you, then peer at your father, furtively, and make sure he wasn’t able to see so much as a second of this little show you were putting on now. Joel glanced around you, too. No one else seemed to notice what was going on, even when your lips left a soft, sweet suction near the top of the apple, and he could’ve sworn he’d heard you moan.

It was just in his head. He was remembering how you’d done it that morning, mouth sinking down his length and whimpering when you’d reached the base. The way your eyes had watered, your free hand had reached between your legs, and your lips had welcomed him in; it was all burned in his memory, and not retreating any time soon.

Neither was the blood rushing to his dick, he reckoned.

You didn’t seem to care. Even when a bright pink river of spit and sugar trickled out of your mouth, you didn’t flinch. You let it slide down to your chin. Right before it reached the end of your face, and you were certain Joel’s gaze was glued to the spot, you licked a little bit of it off. You didn’t get it all in one go, so you shifted your snack to the other hand and then swiped your thumb under your lips. You brought it up to your mouth and sucked it, just like you’d done with Joel’s cum on it earlier that day.

Joel chucked his cup in the trash. Your dad took another bite of his deep-fried pastry and, talking between chews:

“That was fast.”

“Need’a stretch my legs,” Joel announced, abrupt.

He turned to you, and your thumb came out of your mouth. The frown on his face was unmistakable, though your father probably thought it was just from having to squint against the sun. Not because he was incensed.

Out for revenge.

“Ready to get wrecked, kiddo?” he asked you.

Your eyes widened, and your tongue quit licking.

What?

Then you saw him nod to some spot over your shoulder. You didn’t have the nerve to follow his gaze as he did.

Faintly, you could make out a smirk crossing his lips.

“Arcade’s over there. Unless you’re too scared.”

Your dad raised a dumbass, not a quitter.

You’d accepted Joel’s proposal without a second thought, and your father seemed pleased to have the chance to peruse the food stands and beer carts to his heart’s content. You’d set off quickly. Your candy apple was still in your hand when you saw your friend lean over.

Joel opened his mouth, and he took a big, angry bite.

“You’re insane,” he said after, words muffled by fruit.

You took your first steps inside the dark, cool building littered with machines and fun activities of every kind, and deep down, you were happy you’d had that treat. You took a bite yourself, then discreetly patted his ass through his jeans and told him, ‘Only for you, Miller.’

You weren’t sure why you’d said it. As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you regretted it, no matter how stupid and playful the message was meant to be read. But then Joel nudged you back—actually wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side.

His mouth was close to you, and you could feel the smile:

“Just how I like it.”

Your cheeks heated a little. You weren’t so fond of the intimate move—in public like this, even as dark as the arcade happened to be—but you couldn’t deny the flutter in your stomach. You swallowed the rest of your apple, and with it, any shred of emotion, or so you were hoping. You nudged Joel off of you under the guise of trying to point to something new, and his eyes followed.

“C’mon. At least pick something you’ve got half a shot of winning,” he said, swiftly. Sounding smug as he spoke.

You plodded on anyway, not hesitating at all.

“I’ve got more than half a shot,” you assured him, tone arguably twice as conceited, “Now if you’re scared—”

“You can’t use my own lingo against me, little girl.”

“Then nut up or shut up, old man.”

Joel scoffed. You chewed. The two of you approached the Skee-Ball machines with near identical looks of ambition and zeal, and sensing this tension wouldn’t dissipate with any more shit-talking, you got to work.

The first game was close. You beat him by less than ten points, and you guessed that that had been due in part to Joel’s own will. You saw him make more than two pitches so outrageously bad that you’d had to have guessed he was going easy on you. As soon as you felt that, you’d scowled. Pointed angrily at the scoreboard.

“You can’t just let me win, Miller!” you said, shrill.

Joel’s hands went up, and you knew he’d deny it all.

“No need to gloat, now, honey—”

“Fuck off,” you snapped, all while fighting back a smile, “Gimme your A game or don’t bother playing, honey.”

And he did.

The next game left you destroyed, roughly 900 to 320. You stepped back from the machine, feeling a frown start to form on your lips but knowing you’d asked for this, and just as Joel was about to lean in to offer a conciliatory hug, he had to stop. Both of you turned.

Somewhere behind you, you’d heard a voice.

It was young, male, and audibly amused.

“He really whooped your ass, huh?”

Your eyebrows raised as soon as you saw the source. Your scowl morphed into a smile, and your eyes were bright—too bright, almost. You ran over to hug the boy.

He was a boy, after all. Likely no more than half Joel’s weight soaking wet and wearing the biggest, dumbest grin that could only belong to a guy your age. He hugged you back, and his arms tightened around you. Comfily.

“Wade!” you gushed, squeezing him hard. You stepped back and looked him over, as if in shock, “It’s been…”

“Forever,” Too-comfy-cozy Wade finished for you.

Joel frowned.

“And here I thought you were gone away for good!” you laughed, “Went off to get that fancy Stanford degree—”

“—and you, in Boston—” the boy chimed in.

Before the reminiscing could go on much further, you remembered yourself and turned back to Joel. Still beaming as bright as you’d been when you first saw the kid, you gestured indistinctly, tongue-tied for a second.

“This— Joel, this is Wade Pritchett, one of my friends from high school,” you introduced him. Letting the two men—or, rather, mustached boy and muscled man—shake hands. Evidently, you were too stoked to notice.

“He moved out to Sacramento our senior year, and none of us thought— well, we— we figured we’d probably never see him again. Fuckin’ west coast hot shot he is.”

You smirked as you nudged his ribs, and something in Joel turned to month-old milk: sour, rancid, and heavy. His stomach turned inside him, and he hardly knew why. All he noticed was that he didn’t like the eyes you were making at him, and he hated the face Wade had for you.

Joel was just looking out for you, really.

You could do so much better than this douche.

“This is my friend,” you said to Wade, motioning back. Then, reconsidering just a second, “My dad’s friend.”

Joel didn’t like that.

Wade gave him a brief once-over and hardly seemed to see him at all. In that millisecond of a look, Joel saw it:

‘Old family friend. No worries there.’

Foolishly, Joel wished the chump could’ve seen what you’d been doing the night before—impaled on his cock and riding him as hard as your knees would allow you:

‘Daddy, please, daddy, daddy, daddy.’

“Joel?” Your voice cut in his mind like a knife.

Joel blinked.

“Yeah?”

“Okay if Wade joins?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah.”

Not that it mattered now. Royal pain-in-the-ass Pritchett was already getting the machine next to yours set up.

Joel eyed him once more and tried to swallow his pride.

Somewhere along the way, it got stuck in his throat.

Three rounds was all he could take.

You on Wade, Wade on you—goading each other on in the most sly, flirtatious ways. Or maybe it was just Joel imagining that. Regardless, the man didn’t feel guilty at all when, at the conclusion of the third game, he’d tried to feign a casual tone and told you your dad would be expecting you back any minute, better wrap things up.

“He texted me like twenty minutes ago saying he’d be neck-deep in craft beer for an hour. I think we’re good,” you replied, and the indifference in yours didn’t have to be faked. You grinned at Wade, and Wade grinned back.

“Well, he texted me a second ago that he was holding a spot for us in line at the ferris wheel, so let’s roll, kid.”

That was a lie.

Joel didn’t like himself for doing it. But, again, he didn’t like Wade Pritchett even more, and he reasoned that he was doing you a favor, anyway. He searched for the exit.

“It’s alright, my mom’s probably looking for me, too.”

We get it, Pritchett. You’re a mama’s boy.

“Ah, okay.” You almost sounded sad.

Don’t be, baby. You’re daddy’s girl, remember?

Wade pulled you in for a hug; Joel wanted to deck him.

“I’ll be in town all week if you wanna—”

“I wish. My flight leaves tomorrow,” you cut in. Now your tone was really despondent. Your mouth was pouting.

It was just Joel’s eyes. He was seeing things. He was thinking you cared for this guy more than you probably ever did, and he was getting himself worked up over nothing. He clenched one hand into a fist by his side and waited for the anger to subside. Sadly, it was slow to go.

“Maybe we could…go out for drinks later or something?”

That suggestion didn’t make things any easier on Joel.

“I’d love to.”

Your reply didn’t exactly set his mind at ease, either.

At last, he decided he’d had enough. Turning on his heels, he bid a terse goodbye to shithead Pritchett and walked out of the arcade. He didn’t stop until he’d hit one of the bar carts your dad had been raving about outside.

He contemplated buying a drink. Maybe two. In fact, he’d just been eyeing three cans of Coors Light and was fishing for his wallet when he heard your voice again.

“Joel?”

“Yeah?” His tone was clipped.

If you felt it, you didn’t show it.

“Are we riding the ferris wheel or not?”

He probably should’ve given a verbal answer in the affirmative. Instead, he’d just nodded his head and started off the other way, expecting you to follow.

The walk was short. You’d had to weave through a sea of fairgoers, including schoolkids, college-aged drunks, and more than a fair share of loved-up couples, but that wasn’t too bad. Joel just ignored each one and didn’t stop until you’d reached the line for the ferris wheel.

Or what was left of the line, anyway.

Unlike what Joel had told you, there was no wraparound queue for you to join. Your father wasn’t there. Once you’d passed a look over the dozen-odd people waiting patiently for it to be their turn on the ride, you felt your stomach turn. Joel had never texted your dad at all.

“He’s not coming, is he?” Dispensing with the obvious.

Joel still wouldn’t look your way. He’d just sidled up behind the last people in line—a group of older folks who all seemed eager to get on the ferris wheel. You scoffed when you saw Joel’s expression harden, and you planned to turn away. Then the people up front started to move. For a moment, you were torn between telling him off and leaving him there. At length, you settled on saying, low:

“You lied.”

Joel followed the moving line, and a few more people started to trickle in behind you. Before you could even think to speak again, you were nudged ahead by the force of that crowd, and had only to keep glaring.

“Hey—” you hissed, only five steps away from the platform now. The ride attendant was scanning the line, appearing to count the people approaching the gate, and when his eyes landed on you, you made out a little grin.

“Aww, your daughter scared’a heights or somethin’?”

He’d said it to Joel, sounding cheeky. His teeth gleamed in the light of a hundred different neon bulbs, and you had to avert your face to keep from revealing its disgust.

So everyone else still thinks he’s my dad. That’s nice.

You couldn’t see Joel’s expression, but you imagined it looked the same. You shuffled ahead, reluctantly, and heard a lady behind you laugh; the sound had a tipsy lilt.

“My kid’s the same way—you’ll be fine, hon,” she slurred.

Heights aren’t the issue here, you’d wanted to snap back, for no other reason than your own disdain for Joel and the present situation. He walked in front of you, still refusing to meet your gaze, and soon you were perched on the platform, sandwiched between two semi-rowdy throngs of fairgoers with no clear means of escape. You crossed your arms and stared up at the back of his head. The look you gave him probably could’ve burned holes in his skull if irritation had been the means of achieving it.

You were seated on the ride in minutes. The compartment was surprisingly large, and its walls high, with glass on every side. Under a waning afternoon sun, the views you expected to see were bound to be pretty. All that was left to detract from its splendor was Joel— hunkered down opposite you and manspreading. Wide.

Sitting in total silence with his denim-covered legs split in a ‘V’. Watching you and rubbing one thigh, absently.

“You’ve got some nerv—” you started in.

“Yeah, no. No. That kid was gettin’ on my nerves—”

It amazed you how fast Joel was to return your words with a hostile quip of his own, anger flashing in his eyes.

“What’d he even do?! He’s my friend— my best friend—”

Fury flitted to something like discomfort, momentarily.

“Oh yeah? Just friends?”

“What the fuck does it matter to you?”

In your own expression, rage flared unchecked. You didn’t particularly care what Joel thought now if he was immature enough to act like this, and the walls of the compartment were thick enough to prevent anyone else’s hearing a word of it. The ride continued to rumble along, letting on new passengers with each new stop.

Joel might’ve paused. Could’ve stared out the window for all you knew—everything but the wheel itself seemed to be moving at lightning speed, and time was sliding.

“Because I— I— I give a shit, kid. I care.”

“And that makes lying to me alright?”

“I was just worried for your—”

“Bullshit. What would you need to be so worried about? Me playing Skee-Ball with an old friend and maybe getting drinks? You can fuck right off with that.”

Joel opened his mouth to speak, but he shut it when the ride suddenly jolted to a stop. It sputtered. Then, after a long, tense moment, it slowly ascended again. You took this lull in speech as your own chance to re-intervene:

“That’s not ‘care.’ Or ‘worry,’” you continued, words dripping with condescension, “That’s controlling.”

“Controlling?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

Joel Miller always did.

“It’s not—”

“It is—”

“Protecting you from assholes like him—”

“—he’s not—and I never asked you to do that!”

“So I just sit by and watch him touch what’s mine—”

“I’m not yours, Joel!”

Your last words echoed through the car like a shotgun’s report. You’d said it with such force—so emphatic for him not to be mistaken in what this was, or whose you were—when you hardly even knew how you felt yourself. It was a knee-jerk reaction, and one that Joel knew only too well. The last time you two fucked, he’d begged the same: ‘Say you’re mine,’ and no matter how close you’d been to release at the time, you simply couldn’t say it. Now, clear-headed and mostly clothed, you still despised those words. Emotions. Uniquely juxtaposed with Joel’s jealousy over Wade, you’d never wanted to say it louder:

“I’m not yours, and I never will be. So just stop.”

More cruel.

“Are we clear?”

The car came to a halt near the top. When Joel still hadn’t deigned to answer, you leaned in closer.

“I said, are we fucking clear, Miller?”

Then you didn’t have to wait.

“I hear you.”

Of course he heard. His face was hard. His eyes were like two brown stones in the sockets, and the line of his mouth was tight. Whatever use you might’ve had in trying to decipher that look was ignored for the time being; you were still too angry. And, perhaps owing to this state—with a white-hot look fixed on him and your head full of blinding, bitter thoughts—you were more than susceptible to surprise. You jumped when you felt it.

Felt him with a hand moving from his leg to yours.

It went quick but was almost too ridiculous to fathom—how swift Joel was in reaching for you, hoisting you into his lap, letting your limbs straddle his hips with all the ease of old, welcome habits. It might’ve worked just as well, were it not for the tension in your legs. The short, sharp, ‘Joel’ and a look flitting out to either side of you.

“What?” he grunted.

You heard a fly unzip.

“We’re on a—”

Before you could finish, and as if to furnish the answer for you, the ride shuddered back to life. Its descent was slow, but any movement now made your stomach churn. It didn’t matter that most of the cabin was encased in metal, the rest semi-tinted plexiglass, or that your space was almost entirely shielded from the view of other cars—it was too much of a risk, as was everything with him.

Joel remained blind to it all. Your cabin came to a stop, still high in the sky, and then you felt him grip something between you. In one swift motion, he had the head of his cock rubbing your seam. You sighed; his eyes were cold.

“C’mon then…show me what ain’t mine,” he murmured.

His voice was low. You hated those words. This was more than just that. Your cunt slid and accepted him anyway.

For a second, your gaze was level with his. Your hips hadn’t stirred, and he was crawling inch-by-inch inside you, pulling you down. The act could’ve been intimate, had the words that passed before not been so harsh—and the place not been a fucking amusement park.

When the ride resumed its slow, rumbling circuit, he didn’t make your bodies part, but instead flipped you around. Your back was flush with his front, and by all appearances, you were innocently perched on his lap.

What the tens, or dozens, or hundreds of strangers ambling around down below couldn’t see was that a cock was nestled inside you, too. That with every gentle bump of the wheel, a man several decades your senior was filling you to the hilt, sending waves of pleasure through your body and his while he stuffed you tight. What your dad didn’t know was that this was his friend. That the nose nudging the skin between your sleeve and your neck belonged to Joel, and his breaths were short.

Trying to calm the flutter of his pulse and the pull of his lungs, he flattened his hands on either one of your thighs. He rubbed his palms back and forth, and you glanced down to find the insides of your legs extra shiny.

Slick, pretty, and full of him. He tilted your chin back up.

“Nice and quiet for daddy—nice and still. No squirmin’.”

He nudged your hips forward, and his cock brushed a wet, spongy ridge inside you. You had to purse your lips to swallow a noise. You felt your cunt drool even more.

The car swung low, in the line of sight of far too many eyes, and then it stopped again. You weren’t at liberty to move at all, and still, the feel of Joel inside you was raw.

Grating, almost.

It made the prospect of conversation seem the tiniest bit easier, though—forced to face away from each other and act civil now. Right before the ride started up again, you gripped the armrest and anchored your feet to his boots.

“Feels…good,” you whimpered.

“That so?” Joel murmured back.

“So—oh.”

Your words fell apart at the next brush of his hand, sliding down to your heat and taking his index and middle fingers to the precious, pulsing bud in between.

Soon the car was up at a comfortable height. You sighed.

Your legs pressed together over Joel’s, and you felt him rub the tips of his fingers even harder, circles tighter.

“I know,” he said, sensing your words before they came, “I know it feels nice, baby. Keep that chin up for daddy.”

Don’t let them know I’m inside you. Stay quiet.

But his girth was so much. The tug of his smooth, throbbing manhood between your walls was almost more than you could take. You laced the fingers of your free hand with his over your thigh, and you held them tight as your hips wriggled back. You couldn’t help it, feeling a welt of pleasure start to blossom in your belly.

“Joel—” you started.

“Don’t talk,” Joel grumbled, stern, “It’ll draw attention.”

You sensed there was more to it than that. Your fingers threaded even deeper through his, and he squeezed them back. Between your bodies, there rose a soft, gentle tap, tap, tap with the thrusts Joel was able to deliver now that you were back up high and out of sight. If there was any time to speak, this was your window.

Joel probably wished you hadn’t, but you tried, anyway.

“You know it’s been years since—”

“Since?”

Now you didn’t want to say it. But you knew you had to.

“Wade’s been my friend since—”

Another influx of something soft and tender inside you. Joel holding your hand, pushing himself deeper, and trying not to groan when you clenched around him. Hating that he had to hear that name, most likely.

You despised the words even more before you said them:

“—since my mom left.”

It was an awful time to be bringing this up, admittedly. Both of you on the brink of release with Joel’s cock buried as far inside you as it would go, his fingers entwined with yours, and the ride drifting lower.

And lower, lower, lower still. Joel’s breaths picked up.

The car shuddered to a halt almost halfway down. You didn’t have to see his face to picture it a little more rigid than it’d been before. He’d known your dad long enough to remember the time his wife had walked out on him.

“When we were, like, thirteen—” You continued, as if you needed to remind him of any of the particulars. Joel hardly knew you back then, though, “—he was my friend. Wade’s been one of my— my closest— he was there—”

You couldn’t be sure if it was the subject of discussion or simply how close you were to cumming that kept your tongue from forming a coherent string of words, but here you were. Joel’s grip on your hand had loosened, and the movements of his hips had slowed considerably. You hoped he’d be too lost in his own pleasure to care.

“I remember,” he returned quietly.

That was all he said for a moment. Out of habit, your legs parted more for his touch, and you whimpered, feebly, as the fingers kept circling your clit. The ride started again.

“You don’t have to—” And again, his voice was low.

“I’m not saying that as an— as an excuse or anything.”

You didn’t know why you were saying it at all. You just wanted Joel to know he didn’t need to be jealous. That Wade had been a friend through a dark and bleak season of your life, and that was all it had ever, or would ever, be.

While the car was still suspended in air, and the sights below all relatively small, you got the sense you’d have to deal with this budding bliss inside you a bit quicker than anticipated. Joel was all wordless encouragement. You almost wished you could’ve seen his face as he urged you to come undone, keep making yourself feel good, that’s it, cum for me, but frankly, it was probably for the best you couldn’t look him in the eye right now. Beyond just needing release, you wanted him to see you in a more vulnerable light than you’d ever been—facing away seemed the least painful position to have that happen.

With your fingers and his still interlaced and your hips moving a little more quickly, Joel could feel your pleasure soaking his jeans, and he pulled you down closer to him.

He nudged the back of your neck with his nose. He panted against it gently, tenderly. Then he kissed it.

“Don’t need’a say anything else, darlin’. I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry.

Under any other circumstances, an apology from a man would have been the last thing to send you over the edge, but today, you couldn’t help it. Just as the car started up again, you hit your peak with Joel still stuffed inside you, and you gripped his hand as hard as you could. You fought to keep the moans contained behind your lips, but it was hard—and Joel’s constant, tender caresses with his lips and fingers made it that much worse. He trailed kisses down your neck and shoulder and told you gently, ‘That’s it, good girl, that’s my girl.’

My girl.

Again.

You almost didn’t mind it being said this time around.

Almost.

In truth, you didn’t have half a mind to think much of anything in that moment. You just curled your toes and pressed your back into Joel while the warm, euphoric waves coursed through you, and you let yourself be content with what he’d said. Whatever he meant by it.

In the minute that followed, you sensed he was perilously close to finishing, too. So, as soon as you’d made it down from your high—and the ride, too, was circling back and making its way through the final cycles—you crawled off of Joel. You got on your knees. For the first time in what seemed like hours, you locked eyes with him; your mouth moved lower still. You’d barely latched your lips onto the head of his cock before he was shooting off rope after rope after rope of his cum. Warmth splattered down your tongue and throat, and you swallowed it all obediently.

You didn’t need to be told when the ride was over. You heard a buzz, felt it jolt, and, unfortunately for you and Joel, your car was one of the first to be let off. You had to hurry off your knees and back into your seat, across from your panting, silver-haired friend, just seconds before the door to your left swung open. You began to stand.

Joel followed you out. His spend was still stuck to your throat in some places, the scent of his skin and his stubble and his extra heavy load all fresh to your senses. You wiped one corner of your mouth and kept walking.

And it was in this state you remained another second or two. You were just about to take your first steps off the platform, mind floating over somewhere tranquil and warm, when your thoughts were presently interrupted.

Your steps, too, were cut short. Joel had stopped you.

Then he grabbed your face, and he kissed you.

Your world froze a moment. You didn’t have time to think, or react, or even kiss him back, so you just stood there and let him hold you to him. It was over in a blink.

And one glance over Joel’s shoulder after he did it, to the ride attendant and nearly every last person in line, said they were just as stunned. Some sick, by the looks of it.

‘He’s NOT my dad!’ you wanted to yell, out of habit.

Seeing the eyes Joel had fixed on you—the smile that followed—their suspicions didn’t matter to him at all.

You walked off together, still considering those words:

My girl.

A month wouldn’t be so bad. Two was tolerable, even.

The next few hours spent with Joel made it seem like you could go a year or longer without seeing his face, and nothing between you would change too much.

He was a friend. A good friend. Not just your dad’s old companion, but your own. Whatever else was left beyond that could be explored down the road, but for now, you were content to just let him hold your hand in places you weren’t likely to be seen, and kiss you in those he hoped your dad wouldn’t be. Maybe fuck you on a ferris wheel.

At the thought of going back to college tomorrow, not seeing him again until Thanksgiving or Christmas at the earliest, you didn’t feel too sad. You did get an extra burst of yearning when Joel’s hands would find your hips and push you off to some shaded, semi-discreet area and he’d tell you, softly, ‘I don’t know what I’m gonna do without ya, kid’ before kissing you with a hunger all over again. That made you think you might miss him a little.

You’d warned him not to lie to you again. He promised he wouldn’t. You believed him, at least as far as your general mistrust of men would allow, and you had left it at that.

Now the tips of his fingers were brushing your own, and his mouth was grinning—coated in all sorts of sauces from the barbecue you two had been devouring. It was approaching six o’clock. He held the last Carolina-style pulled pork slider up to you, and you shook your head.

“I’m stuffed,” you said, pained.

Really, you were. You and Joel had decided to join in on the fair’s 25th annual BBQ and Chili Cook-off an hour ago, and now your stomachs were suffering immensely.

You made a face in disgust when he tried to push it closer, ‘Joel, I’ll projectile vomit if you don’t— don’t—’

You squealed when he leaned in, thinking he was planning to smush the patty in your face—you’d done that to him with some coleslaw not too long ago—but instead, he dropped the burger. He pressed what non-sticky parts of his hands he could get on your face and, cupping your cheeks between his palms, he kissed you.

Then he kissed you again, and again, and again.

This time, it felt more like an attack. Not an attempt at being affectionate, which he’d shown himself amply capable of all day, but really just a way to smear your lips and chin with sauce and get you extra pissed off at him.

It worked. You bit his lower lip at the last kiss.

And, instead of wincing in pain or biting you back, Joel surprised you by groaning a little bit against your mouth. His grip loosened from your face, and he leaned back.

‘Behave’ was all he said. Smirking.

If any one of Joel Miller’s quasi-fatherly lectures had ever met with success before, this would not be one of them. You only rolled your eyes and were about to reply with some variant of ‘Make me’ when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out to see the new notification.

Nothing more than a reminder to check in for your flight. But that sight also roused some awareness in you that it was just then starting to get late, and you hadn’t heard a word from your father in hours. You and Joel had been extraordinarily fortunate that day in hearing that your dad happened to run into some friends at the livestock show, and had been occupied—plastered, most likely—ever since. You hadn’t thought to question it before, just happy to have your dad out of your hair for the afternoon, but now that it was late and all the shows were long since over, you had to wonder if it wasn’t time to shoot him that text. Bring your last happy, fun-filled night with Joel for the next two months to an end, and head home.

You started to send him a message. Joel peered over your shoulder, absently wiping his hands on a napkin.

“He said he was headed over to a concert last time we talked. Some band he likes,” he hummed, “Wanna go?”

You weren’t too keen on seeing the likes of any Creed-adjacent artist your dad so loved to listen to himself, but if it gave you an excuse to stretch your time with him and Joel, you didn’t mind. You nodded, then deposited your phone back into your pocket. You were just about to stand when Joel held you back. He’d snagged your hand.

“Hang on, ya got a little—” he said, soft. Then he lifted his napkin and started wiping at the sides of your mouth. His motions had all the crude, brute force of a man who’d never wiped a person’s face before—he seemed more concerned getting the vinegar-based glaze off your cheeks than impressing you with how tender he could be—but the gesture was received well enough. For once, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes and just smiled.

“You’re taking me to the airport tomorrow, right?”

“Long as it’s alright with your dad.”

“You could spend the night, too.”

Joel paused. He flitted a look from your lips to your eyes, then, finding a sly playfulness in both, only hummed. Stopped wiping long enough to kiss you on the cheek.

“We’ll see—”

“I’ll be real good—”

“Oh, I bet you won’t.”

But by the end of it, Joel was grinning too. He didn’t protest when your lips returned the favor from his, and they left an equally sweet and clean kiss on his cheek.

He didn’t bat an eye when your hand slid up his leg either. He just squeezed yours back and helped you up.

“Gonna get me murdered, I’m tellin’ you,” he murmured in your ear as you stood, just like he’d said to you earlier.

You figured if he’d had his pick of ways to risk his life, sneaking into your room tonight wouldn’t be the worst possible option. You threw your trash away and started off for the entertainment pavilion, following the music.

It was almost like you could feel Joel contemplating whether to sling his arm over your shoulder while you walked. Not once, but twice did his fingers twitch beside him, and he looked around you both from side to side. He decided against it, at length, and contented himself instead to just nudge your elbow and tell you that he liked that dress a lot—he hoped you would wear it again.

Come up for a football game, and you might see it then, you’d urged him back. The red of your dress wasn’t quite the perfect match for your school’s hundred-year-old crimson and black color scheme, but that was alright. You’d bend the rules for him. The two of you were just approaching the outskirts of a big, noisy crowd when Joel was about to respond. Your eyes glazed over a sea of people, surprised by its size, when you cut back in:

“We’re never gonna find him in here.”

Joel assessed the crowd. Checked his phone. Heard the wail of a guitar from somewhere up at the front and instantly surmised this was a Lynyrd Skynyrd cover band—and that your dad wouldn’t leave until he’d heard every song. Silently, he kicked himself for suggesting coming to look at all. He could’ve taken you on a few more rides, filled your overstuffed belly with a little more cotton candy, popcorn, or ice cream, if you’d been up for it, but instead, you were obliged to find your old man. It wouldn’t have been awful if it wasn’t so hot and—

“Hey,” Joel broke in, before he could think.

His eyes had landed on a person—a pair—in the crowd that you hadn’t seen, and his heart clenched in his chest.

You’d barely tilted your head to him, “Yeah?”

“We should go,” he told you. He hadn’t meant for his voice to come out so rushed, or strained, but it was.

He couldn’t help it, especially when your gaze had shifted fully to him. Your eyes searched his, curious.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I…” Joel trailed off, looking around. Scrambling to procure an excuse of some kind, “I gotta…go piss.”

“Then piss. I’ll wait here,” you replied.

You didn’t get it. Really, there was no way you could. You hadn’t yet seen the short-sleeve, turquoise-colored PFG shirt at the back of the crowd, the beaming face Joel spotted above it. You hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of the man’s profile, much less the full, wide smile on his face, the beer in his hand, or the woman by his side. She was either laughing, or singing, or nudging his hip. They looked happy. And yet, you shouldn’t see it.

Joel would kiss you—that was it. It would be the riskiest thing he’d done, but at least it’d save you from seeing.

So he tried. Joel leaned in and ventured to press his lips to yours, gripping your face, but the second he did, you pushed him away. Your eyes were wide. Cheeks heating.

“What the hell, Joel?” you hissed, “Dad could be—”

Your gaze darted to the side, and then you stopped.

The eyes grew wider. Your lips stayed the course, as if to keep going, but no sound came out, and all that was left of your mouth was a round, stunned ‘o.’ You blinked, like you couldn’t believe it: the two people were kissing now.

Joel reached for your arm, but you were far too fast. You shot off to get away, toward them, and didn’t stop until you’d made it to the edge of the crowd where they stood. The music was loud, the audience was rowdy, but still, even at a distance, Joel could hear you as clear as day:

“Dad?!”

The man and the woman split as quickly as they could.

You were standing there, watching them watch you in utter shock for a second or two. Joel wasn’t counting, but he did find himself next to you before he could blink. He was reaching for your arm again, then stopping. Looking to his friend, whose gaze was plastered on his daughter with all the markings of awe. Embarrassment.

“Honey—” he started.

“What the fuck is this?”

Bad question. Terrible timing. Joel knew what it was—clearly his friend knew it too, but you weren’t supposed to find this out yourself for at least another month or two. That was what he’d told Joel back then, anyway.

“Sweetheart, this is my—this is Helen.”

You looked like you wanted to be sick.

“I know who she is!” you spat. You waved an angry, inarticulate hand in Helen’s direction. Helen looked away.

“Why don’t we go someplace quieter?” That was Joel, cutting in over the thumping bass and the strain in the air like he might’ve been a father to you himself. Wanting to shield you from what was coming next if he could help it.

Once more he reached for you, and still inflamed, you shoved him off. Your eyes were too hurt to turn away.

“What? This is y—your—” you started back, stammering.

“We were going to tell you, honey, I swear.”

In all the years he’d known him, Joel had never seen his friend look so contrite—or fucking moronic. The man had ditched his beer, was wringing his hands trying to pace a little more carefully your way while he spoke, but you weren’t having it. Or anything, really. When Joel brushed his touch against your elbow the slightest bit, about to murmur words low in your ear, like, ‘We’ll talk. C’mon,’ you’d jerked your arm away from him entirely.

He didn’t need to see your face to hear the pain in:

“Fucking stop, Joel!”

That caught your father off-guard. He didn’t hesitate before he cut back in, looking more pointedly at you.

“Hey. You don’t talk to your Uncle Joel that way,” he said, sharp. Joel winced. He went on, “I’m the one who told him not to say anything, okay? Now just calm down—”

And whatever effect his friend had intended to produce created just the opposite in you. Instead of focusing on your dad, your eyes shot to Joel, and in an instant, your body was turning. Your face was half-hatred as you did.

“You knew?!”

“Honey, I told him—” your dad tried saying.

But your look was too enraged. Your jaw was too tight. Your mouth could barely form the words you wanted to say, and your eyes were like two bloodied daggers. Joel was amazed you could speak a syllable at all, but when he heard it, he got a sense for why that was. He had to.

“You knew?”

You were hurt.

When you left, he followed. He wasn’t sure what he’d bothered saying to your father as he did, but it sounded like an excuse—‘It’s fine. I’ve got her.’ He didn’t, though. You were gone quicker than he could turn around, and by the time he’d made it far enough away from the crowd to yell your name, you were too removed to hear it. He saw the top of your head through a whole new cluster of strangers, and he yelled it again. You kept walking.

Joel was fast, but you were adept, all things considered. You slipped through the crowd with ease and gained more and more distance than he could attain in twice the time. Joel bit the inside of his cheek and kept going. He didn’t reach you until you were approaching the front gates, when he called out for you again, out of breath.

You probably wouldn’t have turned if you’d had a choice. But as it was, you were up against a bottleneck effect of more people trying to leave than the exit could fairly handle at once, and everyone at the back was at a standstill. Your jaw tightened when he said your name.

“Darlin’— hey— baby, just let me—” Joel had weaved his way around your neighbors, but the area was cramped.

You didn’t move. Your gaze was trained elsewhere.

“—explain. Let me explain, and I promise, I didn’t—”

The line shifted forward, and you moved with it. Your body was turned; while you kept walking, shuffling, Joel earned a few uneasy looks from the people around him.

“I didn’t mean—” he forged on.

But as soon as he reached for you, he knew he’d overstepped. Confirming every onlooker’s suspicion that you didn’t want to be disturbed, you snatched your arm away, and your eyes flared with anger. You faced him.

“Fuck you.”

Before he could reply:

“Leave me the hell alone, Joel.”

And, while the words were still fresh on your tongue and no one else tried stepping in themselves, you walked off.

You left him again—for what other place, Joel wasn’t sure. You just made off the other way, breezing past carts and stands and now-shuttered booths and more faces than either one of you could count. You kept walking until you found an open space a tolerable distance away from all the noise, then went further.

Your face was fixed in a hard, immutable stare when Joel approached you again. The look behind your eyes was worse; he could tell in a second you were about to cry.

“Darlin’—”

“You knew this whole time,” you said. Seething.

“I didn’t—”

“My dad’s been dating the woman he cheated on my mom with and you didn’t think to fucking tell me?!”

“I thought—”

“Not ONCE?! Huh?” you screamed it this time, “Known you my whole goddamn life and you hide that from me?”

Joel winced. He knew the tears were coming before they even filled your eyes, but the sight still made him hurt. You wouldn’t let him near you, either. You just shook your head and swallowed a lump and blinked hard, and he felt stupid. Whatever favor he’d thought he was doing your father—and you—seemed infinitely small to him now.

That knot you’d tried pushing down in your throat kept you silent for a minute. Joel opened his mouth to insert a word or two himself, but then you looked keen to keep hold of the conversation, no matter how much it hurt, and you were starting again. Blinking harder. Hating it.

“She’s the reason mama left,” you said, hoarse, “Helen was her best friend, and then she went and— and— and— fucked my dad, and because of that, I didn’t have a family for half my fucking adolescence. You knew that.”

Another beat. Joel’s own throat constricted considerably as he considered his next words, but there was no need.

“You saw how much I hated my father, and her, and myself for years, thinking there was something just…wrong with me not being enough to make her stay. And you knew all that, and you still kept it a secret from m—”

“I know, baby. I shouldn’t have kept it from you, I know.”

He’d also known your dad was in the wrong. That hadn’t stopped Joel from trying to rationalize his friend’s actions while they happened: it was a one-time hookup with Helen, then a casual, no-strings deal that the man only indulged when he was feeling extra lonely, then a thing, a relationship of two, three, six months now. Joel had known all along what kind of profound ramifications these decisions would have if you were to ever find out. But his friend wasn’t so easily swayed from old habits, and Joel couldn’t stomach having to break it to you.

Then the roadtrip from Boston happened.

You seemed to be remembering the same.

“Was fucking me a way to make yourself feel better?”

Your words had never struck Joel with more deliberateness or force. He croaked ‘No’ in a moment. You took a step back, and there came the look again—more spiteful than before and repulsed to its core.

“Is that why you offered me a ride back in the first place? Just felt guilty for all the stuff you knew my dad was—”

“No. No, no, honey, I would never, ever—”

“Then why hide it?! Why all this? Why bother?”

You gestured between his body and yours; you didn’t seem to know what you meant. Your cheeks were wet with tears. You had to scrape your palms down your face, sniffling and struggling to clear your own vision, but the efforts appeared to be in vain. You couldn’t stop crying.

“For you,” Joel said, and he hated the way his own voice was splintered. He didn’t know how to make it better, “You were off at school when it started, then— then Boston. Just thought it’d be safer…for you…for us—”

Somewhere in his brain, he’d meant to say that he didn’t want the news of your father to hurt you, or else jeopardize a shred of something Joel had had with you.

It was stupid. Your instantaneous reaction said as much.

“Us?!”

Joel blinked. The eyes across from his were alight.

“Us, Joel?! Are you fucking kidding me? There is no us.”

Their brilliance wasn’t appreciative by any means. If anything, the words made the flow of your tears even worse. You pressed your hands to your face, rubbing your cheeks and trying to shield your eyes, and saying again, ‘There is no ‘us,’ Joel, that’s not an excuse—you knew!’

With his insides in knots, Joel wanted to hold you again. You were still in pain, and your scowl wouldn’t move, and when he tried to touch you, you stepped back in disgust.

He knew better than to think he could reach you now.

“Whole thing was a mistake,” you spat, unfeeling.

“Baby—”

“You and me. Dad and Helen.”

“You don’t mean—”

“Anything you need to keep a secret probably isn’t worth keeping at all, right?” And when you said it, he could tell you’d meant it to hurt him. As if the tears and the time and the sheer resignation in your eyes didn’t say enough.

Now Joel felt an ache in his bones, worse than it’d ever been, and he still couldn’t touch you. Where the heart demanded comfort of a kind you couldn’t give, the head knew better than to ask, and his hands fell limply at his sides. He saw you cry and had only himself to blame.

You turned back to the fairgrounds’ exit. The crowd was as big as it had ever been, but anywhere away from him seemed to be as welcome as anything else, Joel guessed

He’d try something stupid. Again. Even more desperate.

Never in his life had he said the words to someone else, and he sensed it wouldn’t do a thing to change your mind right now, but he’d say it anyway. If not to extricate himself, to let you know what he felt beyond every thing that had taken place tonight. He reached for you again.

“Darlin’, I lov—”

But before the words could register with you, the simple act of pressing his fingers to yours made you blanch. You hadn’t heard him at all, and seemed only concerned with jerking yours away as fast as you could, then shrieking:

“I HATE YOU, JOEL!”

Then you choked back a sob, trained your glossy gaze on him in one last pitiless look, and left him. He didn’t move. He didn’t try to. Sights and sounds and the ground underneath him seemed apt to swallow him whole, and still, he couldn’t move an inch. Somewhere ahead of him—too serendipitous, really—he heard you call a name.

Of course, it wasn’t his. You weren’t running to him.

It wasn’t Joel in the crowd making its way out the gates. It wasn’t him standing a little ways off to the side, eyes wide and confused as he watched you rush over. Almost stumble over yourself falling into his arms and hugging him, burying your face in his chest. Joel watched it all with a raw and hollow heart and wished it were him.

But it was Wade.

Wade hugged you back and held you close, and the look on his face was too bewildered and distraught for Joel to blame him. He hadn’t been the one to hurt you. Joel had.

He watched you leave.

There was nothing more to say.

[frogchiro]

Ghost ripping hacker girl away from her computer and fucking her brains out so hard she can’t get back to her desk….he won’t show it but he’s clingy and wants you in bed all day🥺

Ghost can deny all he wants but deep down he's incredibly clingy to people he cares about/loves and you just so happen to be on top of the list♡

He hates it when you have a few days off or there just isn't too much work that requires leaving your shared room and you still insist that you have to go over some data you hacked recently and you left the comfy bed or nest, how you like to call it; it's one big space with blankets, pillows and all that. Simon at first scoffed at it, saying that it's way too excessive but you insisted on it, convincing him that he needs some luxury and comfiness too and after a night full of love making in the new fluffy bedcovers and he was sold♡

Now he behaves like a lazy male lion, growling and calling you from his place in the bed, all naked and spread, calling in that rough, gravely voice of his, Manchester accent thick especially now during relax day.

Si woke up so horny and pent up for some reason, even after bruising your soft full hips and breeding you good last night and when he reached out to your side of the bed it was empty! He shot up quickly worried that you left him but...there you were, looking at him with a worried look on your pretty face and asking what's wrong; sweet little girl. His sweet girl, always so worried about him.

He called out to you, asking what you're doing but you sheepishly explained that you only wanted to go through that data and that you'll be soon there in bed with him but that didn't satisfy Simon at all :(( He wanted-no, needed you now. He was laying on his back in bed, cock hard and leaking precious cum on his belly while it should be stuffed deep in your womb, breeding you good with his baby :((

Instead there you were, clicking away on your keyboard, way too far away from the warm and comfy bed, and more important, too far away from your needy partner who needed to fill you with his sperm. So Simon took the matter into his own hands, getting up with a low gravely growl at the feeling of his cock hanging hard and leaky, full balls hanging low and making his way towards you with heavy footsteps and before you could react, suddenly Si yanked you up roughly and basically ripped your thin shorts apart before dragging you back into the bed/nest where he roughly thrusted his whole hefty cock inside in one motion, your loud scream only making Simon moan and bellow too at the feeling of your soft and hot wall squeezing down on his dick, his sensitive tip hitting your cervix.

You know that you definitely won't get any work done today or the day after but thinking again, Simon fucking you so good with you on all fours and hin behind you, thrusting into your sore pussy like a starved beast in heat is surely so much better♡

[zeppelinlvr]

"Better?" "Much"

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: waking up next to Dean and getting ready with him

Notes: I promise I'll give Sam some love after this, I love the idea that Dean acts like a dad when he gets up, hacking, coughing, groaning, the whole nine yards. I wanted to thank you guys again for all of the support, you're all so sweet! 💗💗

warnings: cursing, dean and reader playfully argue, kissing, lots of fluff, reader goes to the bathroom while dean is in there, but I promise its nothing gross or weird 😔

w.c: 1k

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The rising sun shone through a crack in the curtains of the motel room. You stirred awake, the light managing to hit you right in the eye. Dean lay next to you, softly snoring, drooling lightly and laying in a position that couldn't possibly be comfortable. You grimaced for him and the thought of how bad his neck was going to hurt when he woke up.

Sam was already awake, he still sat in his pajamas but he was sipping on a cup of coffee and had his computer open, researching as he typically did. He noticed you waking up and gave you a soft smile, not wanting to wake Dean.

You weren't exactly an early riser so you cuddled into Dean, burying your face into his side, trying to block out the light. You found yourself struggling to breathe and let out a sigh, knowing you weren't going to be able to fall back asleep.

Dean groaned as he awoke, grunting as his vision cleared and he noticed your face smushed into him.

“You trying to smell my pits or something?” he said with a small laugh, his voice slightly hoarse from having just woke up

“Love the pheromones” you replied sarcastically and brought your head up to look at him.

His hair was tousled and he had pushed half of the blanket off the bed in his sleep but he looked handsome as ever. Your hair was a mess, the shirt you slept in was twisted around your body, and your sleep shorts were riding up like crazy but Dean still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, simultaneously enjoying how your legs and ass looked when your shorts rode up.

Both of you were wild sleepers, flipping around in the night, blankets and pillows being pushed off the bed, Dean waking up in a panic when you would jerk in your sleep, and you hitting Dean with your pillow when his snores would grow too loud. The two of you would go to bed cuddling every night and wake up with your arm sprawled over his face and his legs on your side of the bed. Neither of you would have it any other way.

You moved yourself so your head rested on his chest, he brought his arm around you and placed a kiss to the top of your head.

“What's our next move Sammy?” Dean asked, “you found anything yet?”

“There's signs of vampires in Carterville Missouri, it’ll take us about five hours to get there though, so we should head out soon.”

“I can get us there in four, as long as grandma here doesn't have to pee every half hour” he said as he motioned towards you.

“I’m not the one who needs to stop for snacks constantly” you defended “and since you want to be Kevin Harvick with how fast you drive, you can make up the lost time from my bathroom breaks”

“Why do you guys just wake up arguing?” Sam asked

“We didnt, he kissed me then we started arguing” you defended with a sweet smile

“Yeah, come on Sam” Dean added

The two of you received an eye roll from Sam “go get ready, we can leave in an hour” he told both of you.

Dean sat up with a loud groan earning a response of “You sound like a father and you're not even one” from you.

“What are you talking about”

“All dads sound like they're dying when they get out of bed, all that loud groaning and back popping makes me think you need to go to the chiropractor.” you told him

“Alright sweetheart” he responded not even bothering to give in to what you were talking about, and gave you a kiss. You scrunched your nose after he pulled away.

“You need to brush your teeth” you giggled

“Same goes for you”

The two of you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, brushing your teeth at the same time. Dean was at it again with his noises, he was hacking and spitting like there was no tomorrow while he brushed his teeth.

“Jesus, you dont have to kill yourself with the toothbrush you know” You told him after you rinsed your mouth out.

“Teeth won’t be clean if I don't brush em like this” he told you, muffled by his mouth full of toothpaste.

“Okay Dean, I’m gonna pee while you finish up” you said and sat down on the toilet, Dean gave you a nod with his toothbrush still dangling out of his mouth. You scoffed and then laughed at him, unable to take him seriously with his extensive morning routine.

“You look so helpless when you pee” he said

“What are you talking about” you asked with a laugh

“You just sit there like you're waiting for a bus, it makes me feel bad” he explained “at least I can stand up and put my hand on the wall or something.”

You shook your head at his observation, laughing at how ridiculous it was.

The two of you finished up in the bathroom and made your way to your bags to get changed. Sam went to the bathroom to clean up, having already changed. You opted for a tee shirt, jeans, and a jacket you had stolen from Dean. Dean put on attire similar to yours, adding a few more layers than you had chosen to.

Dean made his way over to you and kissed you sweetly, his lips lips plush against yours. He brought one of his hands up to the side of your head, toying with your hair with his fingers. He placed his other hand on your waist, rubbing his thumb back and forth along your hip. You brought your hand under his shirt, lightly scratching along his back, earning a soft groan from him. You knew he was a sucker for you scratching his back, always asking you to when the two of you laid in bed, or after he'd had a long day. You smiled into the kiss at the noise he had made. Your moment with Dean, that was much needed by both of you, was cut short by Sam clearing his throat, your face heated upon hearing him and you quickly pulled away from Dean.

“My breath better?” Dean asked a grin playing at his face

“Much” you told him with a small smile, his minty taste still lingering on your lips.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

[greg-montgomery]

the latest hotch x sunshine reader fic?

u think u ate with that?

no.

U DEVOUREDDDDDD. GRRRRRRRRRRR

part 2 now mama i love u so much

bestieee thank you omg!!!! <3 i hope you like part 2!!

part 1

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Spencer took a deep breath staring at his desk. On any other day it would be due to the amount of paperwork waiting for him, but this time it was a cup of his favorite coffee order, a muffin, and a chocolate croissant, all sitting right on top of the report he was working on.

He wasn’t ungrateful for the treats, but he would rather enjoy them if they weren’t accompanied by three pairs of wide eyes looking at him, while searching for answers in return.

Emily threw her head back dramatically. “Come on, give us something.”

“They’re on a date right now, aren’t they? That’s why he left early. I know you know,” Penelope said. “I know you do. Rossi knows too, but he won’t say anything.”

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, “Every time we ask he says nothing and just…smirks at us.”

“Please, you’re our last hope.”

Spencer took a bite of his muffin and smirked.

“You’re even worse than him,” Emily said and pointed at him.

“Come on, girls. Let’s go hack Hotch’s phone.”

“No, wait!”

--

Was it silly to start planning your wedding on a first date?

Maybe it was; you didn’t care. Because there was no way Aaron was not your future husband.

He did everything perfectly: he picked you up from your house, got you flowers, did not let you touch a door handle, paid for your dinner date, and let you play your music during the car ride.

Aaron also smiled a lot and the sight of it made you melt into your seat. It wasn’t often that a man gave you butterflies by just one look or with the sound of his laughter.

“What are you in the mood for now?”

The last thing you wanted was for the date to end, so instead of suggesting you walk back to his car you made a different offer.

“Let’s get ice cream!”

He chuckled, but you could already tell he would not say no to you. “Okay.”

You were walking side by side and even though you were already falling in love with his warm voice it was hard to pay attention to his words. Your mind was too occupied thinking about his arm swinging next to yours and how bad you wanted to hold hands with him.

Did he want it too? Would he think it’s childish to hold hands?

What if you just…did it?

Life’s too short, you thought and grabbed his hand.

Yes, you had not been paying attention to what he'd been saying but you did notice how he stopped mid-sentence when your hands touched. Was he mad?

Your heart was jumping against your chest, afraid you did something stupid. Aaron was quick to ease your anxiety, intertwining your fingers and squeezing gently your hand.

He wanted this too.

He cleared his throat. “So it’s um…a good chance to…”

With the side of your eye, you caught him turning his head to stare at you. You hadn’t wiped the grin off your face from the sudden hand holding yet, and he saw it.

His dimples made an appearance, and as your grin got bigger you noticed he blushed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” you giggled.

The sound of Aaron’s phone ringing interrupted your moment.

“Sorry, I have to get this,” he said.

You, of course, didn’t mind. Even though he hadn’t said so himself, you knew he had left right on time – early in Hotch’s terms - from work just for your date. Perks of being best friends with your date’s subordinate was getting to have this kind of inside information.

“Hotchner,” he said sternly.

You stayed quiet.

“What? I didn’t authorize this.”

Oh.

“No. And I trust this won’t happen again.”

Oh…Maybe you liked this side of him a little bit more than you should.

“Thanks,” he said, and hung up. “I’m sorry about that.”

I’m not.

“No, it’s okay! It’s fascinating observing you being a boss.”

“You like observing people?”

“Why, are you interested in hiring me?” you teased.

“Oh, I would never.”

“Why not?” you asked, acting offended.

“I would not be able to focus on a case with you around.”

You took advantage of the fact you were on a sidewalk and stopped walking, turning your body to face him. “And why is that?”

Aaron moved closer and dropped your hand only to cup the side of your head. His thumb moved back and forth on your cheek and his eyes on yours made you feel dizzy.

“Because you take my breath away.”

And with his next move he took yours. Maybe you’d actually faint if he didn’t pull you in and place his lips on yours.

Your hands moved to his tie with the intention of pulling him even closer to your body. His kiss was heavenly and you really wouldn’t mind if you were to stay like that forever.

Yeah…there was no way Aaron Hotchner was not your future husband.

[mydear-corinthian]

30,000ft. above sea level

summary - you and your boss does something not that common for you guys to do 30,000 feet above sea level

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: SMUT +18, oral sex (m!receiving), semi-public sex, dirty talk, mentions of p in v sex, humping, mentions of cases, typical criminal minds talk

notes: DAY 1 of KINKTOBER, divider by i08cymm

main masterlist | criminal minds masterlist

The team gathered together on the jet. Hotch was passing out the files while Spencer turned on the small laptop in front of him to contact Penelope.

The case wasn't that rough on their stomach. There were two missing girls— both of them were best friends. Both was abducted 3 days, after their dance practice. As soon as team received the file, they quickly scanned and then shared their thoughts with the group.

It was only a short discussion since their technical analyst already has the name of the unsub and the suspected area where the girls were held. All of the team decided to do their own business. Reid read a book that he brought, Prentiss and Morgan were chatting about women, while Rossi and J.J chatted about J.J's son—Henry.

The team sees you and Hotch as the parents of the team. Hotch was strict, straightforward and silent like a father; you were sweet, kind, and cares for the team like a mother. What the team doesn't know is that you and Aaron are dating for a couple months now. There were times where you enter his office and have a little make-out session in there. The team doesn't suspect anything since you know, you both are parental figures— and thank God for that. They probably think that the both of you were discussing case files or help Hotch about his paperwork during those times.

And now, you felt that mood in you again.

The two of you haven't done it on the jet yet so it might sound like new to you and him. You gently stood up to your seat and excused yourself, leaving the team and went to the other side of the jet where Hotch was. You closed the curtains that was dividing the plane.

"Mama and Papa bear are talking about paperworks again. Can't they have a life?" Morgan commented, seeing you going to Hotch and slid the curtains.

"Well, work is always on their minds." Prentiss replied.

As you entered the area where Hotch was, he was sitting down, his back facing you, paper works were all over the table. It wasn't just any paperwork nor file, it's paperwork regarding the team's behavior. You find it funny when he does that since you know how silly the team member gets.

"Hey, what's up?" you walked towards him, getting his attention as he looked at you and smiled.

"Just the behavior paperwork." Hotch answered before his eyes went back to the file and answered.

"The team can get reckless sometimes." You laughed at his statement. You sat on the chair in front of him, crossing your legs. You observed him deeply. He wasn't that stressed nor tensed but you can see how his long sleeved white shirt was getting tighter and his muscles are getting visible which is making you feel something.

That feeling increased when you looked at his face. He was focused, his eyes fall in every word he writes. Jesus— he looked so fucking hot.

"Are you doing my behavioral report?" you asked as he grabbed a new file and opened it. You saw your 2 by 2 I.D card that was clipped on the pages of the file.

"Yes. I've done the others."

"Tell me about them— their report."

He scoffed at your request. Hotch grabbed the previous files and read each report to you. "Garcia hacked 3 private servers. Morgan kicked another door during our cases even though the door was unlocked. Reid academically insulted the local P.D during our previous case. And Rossi insulted another police.." Every word he said, it wasn't coherent to you but that didn't matter.

All your attention was to him. His eyes. His face. His arms. His fingers. And his... you know where. You felt that feeling rise up again. You felt like you need his touch— which you really do. You feel like the seat was stained with how wet you were right now.

"Are you okay? Are you listening to me?" Aaron asked.

The vulgar thoughts suddenly disappeared in your mind. "Y-Yes, I'm okay. And I'm listening to you."

"You're sweating. Your breath is rigid. Something is up." he didn't buy your answer. You stood up from your seat, you pushed the table away to the aisle and sat on Aaron's lap. He was surprised but he saw it coming. Your wet lips finally met his. He returned the kiss deeply, allowing the both of you to taste each other.

It's been awhile since the both of you had sex. Cases were always here and there. You even never had the time to sleep due to how busy the team was with these harsh cases.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked. "We've never done it on a plane.. or miles above sea level.."

"Please, Aaron— I just really badly need you." you begged as you began to rock your heated core with his thighs, riding him.

The both of you were still fully clothed but Aaron can definitely feel how wet you were. You humped on his thigh, finding a friction on his pants; and when you did, you gripped his shoulders for support and moaned softly, your head resting on his neck.

"What if we get caught?" Aaron asked, holding your hips for support.

"They won't. Fuck— you feel so good." you moaned.

His fingers found your clothed breast. It was hard and can be seen through your thin grey shirt and he was drooling about it. Aaron began to toy with your hardened nipple, making you moan out loud. He immediately covered your mouth, muffling out your moans.

As your pace went faster, your orgasm did too. You felt a coil in your stomach and clenched on his pants.

"Come for me, honey. That's it— you're doing such a great job." he praised in your ear.

After a few more rocks, you finally came in your underwear. It didn't stain his pants but it was crumpled.

"Since you're gonna do my report... then I'll show you what a bad behavior is."

You jumped out from his thigh and kneeled. Your fingers started to unzip his pants and pulled it down. Hotch was definitely hard. Then, you removed his black boxers, allowing his hardened cock to sprung out. There was a small leak of precum on his tip. Your fingers started to toy with his tip, brushing it in a teasingly way. Aaron closed his eyes at the pleasure, his back arched slightly. Your palms begin to pump on his whole length slowly.

Aaron was desperate.

Desperate for your touch.

Desperate for your mouth.

Desperate for you to take him whole.

"(Y/n).." he moaned softly.

A smiled carved your lips as you heard him moan your name. It was your favorite music. Your favorite note. Your favorite melody. Your palms pumped his dick faster and faster. He whined and whimpered. His head moved back with his eyes completely shut. In a surprise, your mouth fully took his cock, the tip hitting at the back of your throat. You gagged at first but you got comfortable after a few seconds; you started to bob your head, your tongue licking on his dick inside. Aaron's cock hit your cheeks, the soft and warm feeling made him even more harder.

"God—so warm.. Just like that, yes.." Aaron took a fistful of your hair and guided your speed. He was big, thick, and veiny. You looked at him with innocent eyes but a lustful mouth. You gripped his thighs for support as you continued bobbing your head.Your pace quickened and you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth.

He's close.

"Are you going to swallow it all, honey?" You nodded in response as he thrusted his hips, fucking your mouth over and over again.

"Swallow it all, honey. You're doing such a great job."

After a few more thrust and bobbing, he finally came. White, warm, and creamy liquid spurted out on his dick inside your mouth. You licked his dick from top to bottom clean, making sure you get to taste and swallow every single cum he has.

You stood up and Aaron put his boxers back on and buckled his pants. The both of you were out of breath.

"I'll list that. Not on the file but on my journal." Aaron commented.

"You know, Aaron, we still have 30 minutes 'till landing. Maybe you can pay me back, huh?" you said, grabbing his tie seductively and whispered on his ear.

Little did the both of you know, all the team members were now awake.

And they heard every single noise that came out from the both of you.

[doll-for-you-11]

She lived alone in the city and was super proud of how independent she was. Her parents had told her to stay even during college but her freedom was super important to her and she moved into her own little apartment.

Nothing fancy, just a single bedroom with a small front yard, overlooking the street. It was convenient too, within a short walk from her campus and as it turns out from her eventual work place.

Over the years she had many guests but no one stayed forever. Guess she was a firebrand and it didn’t really attract too many people to her. She didn’t care because she could take care of herself - financially and otherwise.

That is, until something fishy started happening. Her favourite blue bracelet was missing. At first, she thought she had been forgetful and left it at work or somewhere in the apartment. But then, a week later, it happened again. This time a green pair of earrings. Her stuff was being stolen! She was sure of it.

Between work & socialising she didn’t have much time to interact with her next door neigbours, so she never asked them. But one day, she snapped. Something really special her mom gifted her was gone. Outraged, she drove to a local hardware store. She bought and set up a button sized camera, hidden from sight. It had a wide field of vision and recorded the entire room.

With password encryption and notifications on movement or activity enabled, she felt safe. She let the camera record everything she did. Even, her most private moments. She danced in front of it, changed her clothes in front of it too.

She made love to strangers with the camera recording it and never told them. Even watching those videos back when she was alone, touching her beautiful body to them and making herself orgasm from it.

The robberies seemed to have stopped too. Nothing went missing anymore at all. She was happy and satisfied. Perhaps the thief had never been around. Just a figment of her imagination.

That night, without her knowing though, someone watched. As she stripped out of her dress and laid back on the bed. Pillow between her beautiful legs and a vibrator on her pussy, she went to town.

Her gorgeous body contorted, her moans and breathing getting louder. Unknown to her, someone was stroking themselves while watching. He had always been watching her like this. He gave up on being a thief, but he had hacked the encrypted camera and had access to the feed.

He clicked record, yet another video now in his hard drive. As she furiously masturbated, so did he. Cumming together, but unknown to her.

Three months later, she walked up to her door to find a brown envelope at her step. On it was scribbled ‘For your eyes only.’

Curious, she stepped inside. No address or sender name on it. She opened the envelope and flipped the contents on her desk. Immediately, the blood drained from her cheeks. In shock she looked at the images. High resolution photos of her, touching herself. Using her vibrator. Of her body, exposed.

She felt disgusted, but not at the fact that her photos were sent to her. No, she was disgusted in herself because she felt herself getting wet.

In the same package was a USB drive and a note attached to it saying ‘Hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been watching. Left you a gift too.’

With shaky breathing she put the USB into her laptop and opened the video titled ‘Filthy little slut’. It started playing and showed her. Bare body, pillow in between her legs. Vibe on clit. Enjoying her body as she came hard. The hairs on her neck stood on end as her nipples got hard and pushed against the fabric of her top.

She then saw another few files but the one that intrigued her said ‘A gift for my good girl’. She opened it and a video played. A dark room, a screen glowing and a silhouette, clearly a man. He wasn’t the hottest he had seen, or particularly big. But, he was stroking himself with abandon, and she could hear him grunting and moaning. Moaning that was matched by her own. He was playing back her own orgasm and stroking for her.

She took her laptop to her bedroom and laid down with it in front of her. A nervous glance at the camera but she couldn’t help it. Out of instinct, with all shame abandoned by now, she let her hand slide into her underwear. She was now touching herself, to her voyeur. And she was doing it in full view of the camera she set up.

Instead of feeling safe, she felt violated. Humiliated and, strangely, more turned on then ever before. She said ‘please, please have your way with me’… to no one in particular as she orgasmed hard. Passing out with her hand in her panties and her door not securely locked.

She woke up, several hours later. Feeling far more exhausted than usual. Her laptop had been shifted off the bed and all the photos neatly stacked too. Her panties were around her ankles and her pussy felt sore.

She reached down and rubbed her slit, realising there was more than just her juices inside her. A pang of panic and ecstasy shot through her as she started to piece things together.

Grabbing her phone, she opened the camera app and saw it. He came in after she was knocked out. And he was so gentle at first. Mask on his face, he kissed her pussy and made her cum so hard in her sleep. After that, he ravaged her. Looking directly into the camera at it, knowing this filthy little slut will watch it back. He came inside her, over and over again. And then he left the bedroom, but not before waving at the camera.

Turned on like crazy, once again, she swayed from the video she had just seen. She got up, needing to drink some water. Entering the kitchen in a daze, she opened her fridge and grabbed a bottle.

As she closed it, there he was. Mask still on. Looking at her. He covered her mouth and stifled her scream. Took one deep and passionate look at her and said ‘You are mine now, good girl. All mine.’

- 😈😈😈

This is so unbelievably hot 🥵 I think I need to go buy a camera and hope someone hacks it now...

[bluetimeombre]

🀥 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮

He's not your Logan, but you wish he was.

[I have so many Logan drafts I have to publish, oh no…. While I’m working on p2 of the Hugh Jackman and Ladypool I made this. It’s my first real attempt at smut and I cringed so bad.]

Warnings: death, grief, smut, dirty talk, language, oral (f! Receiving) penetration sex, not proof read

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The events of Logan:

When you'd seen Logan running through the field, soaking up more bullets than sweat, you knew it was going to be tough to save him. You knew it might even have been impossible but god you were going to fucking try. Even if he didn't want you to.

You'd gone with the kids, with Laura to keep them safe, but you hadn't thought you'd have to keep Logan safe to.

And you tried to. You tried so hard with your limited strength and ability, but it wasn't enough, not when you and Laura watched as his clone threw him into a fall tree, the other end poking out his bloody chest.

You screamed. You think you screamed. The only thing you knew for sure was that you took the adamantium bullet and shot it through the clone's head.

'Logan,' you stood over him. He was staring up at you, pale and watching your every move. 'No.'

Laura was at his other side and behind him. She started to hack away at the tree, until Logan groaned and slowly slid to the ground.

You grabbed him, gently settling him down as Laura joined your side. 'No, please.' You grabbed his hand and held it tight enough for them both.

His fingers gripped yours with the only strength he had left as his eyes cast to the girl. She was crying, tears down her cheeks as she whimpered. She looked down at his wounds, almost as if she was trying to find a way out. Even your hands were already soaking up his blood. 'Don't be what they made you,' he whispered. 'Laura... Laura.'

She sniffed and watched his lips slowly move to say her name. 'Daddy...'

His breath was short and shallow but even then he managed a small smile. His fingers around your hand became weaker as his eyes lifted to look you over. His smile remained and his eyes that had been filled with such pain and exhaustion filled with... love. They looked over you as if taking in every last detail. 'Look... look after our daughter.'

You cried, sobbing, holding his hand to your chest so he could feel the heart that only beat for him. 'I- I love you.'

His eyes softened, his lips forming words you could barely hear. His hold on your hand ended. 'Ah, so... so this is what it feels like.'

The smile on Logan's face fell and his eyes would stare at you forever. He was gone. The love of your life. Your best friend. Everything. Dead. It was over like that. His life span of years over in the snap of a finger.

'Logan?' you cried, brushing your fingers through his short grey hair.

Laura cried. 'No. No. Daddy?'

You fell back on your heels, hanging your head as tears hit the earth under you. The weight of their grief was enough to shake the earth.

Laura's small hand crawled up to claim the one that wasn't desperately clinging onto Logan's. She tucked herself into your side, her head resting on your chest. Finally, you brought your head up and rested it atop hers, your tears soaking her hair.

'Look after our daughter,' and you would. With your whole life.

The events of Deadpool and Wolverine:

'Who-who brought us here, anyway?' asked Deadpool.

'That would be us.'

Everyone turned, including Logan, as a girl- a young woman really, walked out from the shadows. There was another behind her, but they lingered back, staying closer to the dark and leaning on the doorframe.

Laura made herself visible to them all, stopping in front of Deadpool. 'Don't make us regret it.'

'Holy shit,' he said. 'Logan that's her, that's X-23.'

Logan watched the girl for a moment as he took a gulp of the bottle. The girl's eyes assessed him back, as if she had some of her own judgement. He didn't have anything to say to her- he didn't know her. But Logan caught whiff of someone else, a scent so familiar to him but having only been kept with him in a dream.

'Wait, who's that?' Deadpool looked to the figure.

Laura looked back, smiling at her.

Logan almost dropped the bottle as you walked down. You hadn't aged a day. You were just the same as the last day he'd seen you, that day he'd walked away and lost everything. It was your body he found last, surrounded by the children you had been protecting. Your ring, the ring he had given you, bloody.

'Y/N!' Deadpool gasped. 'No way! Holy shit! I didn't think you'd gotten any of my calls. Can I just say- woah. Logan, look who it is!' he boasted.

Logan was still looking at you. You didn't think he could ever look away, but neither could you. You weren't each other's, but you looked it.

'Oh yea, there's some tension here,' said Deadpool. 'How did you even end up here?'

'Our universes were dying and the TVA knew we wouldn't be going quietly, so they sent us here,' you said, walking down the last steps and busing yourself around the room, anything not to look at that Wolverine that wasn't yours.

But you glanced at him, you told yourself just once and he was still looking at you. Looking between you and Laura. Your Logan's last words replayed in your head. 'Look after our daughter.' and you had. Though it hadn't gotten you anywhere. Only to the void.

'The answer is yes, I'm in,' said Deadpool.

'In what?' asked Blade.

'The team. Me- you. You- me, all of us. All of us together, getting the hell out of this place.'

'Don't listen to him, he's a fucking lair!' Logan snapped.

'It was an educated wish!' he corrected.

'Ha!' Logan barked, taking a drink of the whiskey. He caught your eyes and thought better of it. He thought of the times the two of you would sneak to the kitchen to get a beer when you first met each other, how- once the two of you stayed in the same room- he'd never leave your side, even for a drink. Instead, he'd hold you tighter and just watch.

Deadpool, somehow, talked you all into a team up. You thought that's what was happening, frankly, you were distracted watching Logan.

'Hey,' Laura approached you quietly while everyone else spoke. 'You ok?'

'Yeah, yeah, i'm fine,' you assure her, brushing her hair back. 'You?'

Laura glanced back to him. 'I don't know yet.'

'Oh, Johnny must have loved you. X-23, what's it gonna be?' Asked Deadpool.

'The name's Laura,' she corrected him, looking from you to the room. 'Let's fucking go.'

'Let's fucking go.'

'You're all fucking dead,' said Loga.

'My god, read the room.

That night, before your big takedown, Logan took to sitting around the fire.

You and Laura watched for a good ten minutes, trying to come to terms with the father, the lover, you both lost.

'He looks just like him,' said Laura.

'I know,' you agreed. 'But it's not him.'

She looked up to you. 'What if, it could be?'

You didn't want to think of it or believe it. The only thing keeping you from him was the memory of your Logan's blood over yourself. 'It can't,' you told her. For a moment, the both of you continued watching, until Laura walked away from you. Toward him. 'Laura, Laura!'

He must have heard you calling as he glanced over to see her. 'No, no, no, i'm not looking for company, get outta here, kid.'

'You remind me of him,' she said, settling on the other end of the log. 'Angry, drunk, mean-'

'Sounds like a great guy,'

'I wasn't finished,' she said.

You were close enough to hear and you chuckled, watching the two. She was no more than ten the last time they saw each other, she could barley speak to him with all her words in English. It was their first chance to speak.

'He showed up when it mattered the most, couldn't help it. You might not know it, but you're a good man, Logan,' she told him.

'You might not know it but apparently i'm the worst Logan,' he said.

You lowered your head, holding onto the tree.

'I got to have a life because of you. And Y/N. But I got to grow up, because of you. A lot of kids did.'

Logan looked into the fire. 'A lot of kids didn't grow up because of me,' he was thinking about it again. Your body, the kids bodies around you. The blood. The ring. 'Trust me kid, i'm no hero.'

'That suit says different.'

He hummed and looked down at it. 'Scott used to beg me to wear it. So did Jean, Storm, Beast. All of them. Y/N. Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn't. Told them they all look fuckin' ridiculous. I couldn't have them thinking I wanted to be there. Kept saying i'd leave, I only stuck around for Y/N,' he watched the fire. You watched him. 'Then one day I did. I left and the human's decided to go mutant hunting.'

'I can guess the rest,' said Laura.

Logan shook his head. 'No, no, let me say it- I- I need to say it. By the time i'd stumbled home shit-faced from the bar it was too late. They were dead- they were... and the suits all I got to remind me of who they were. What I did.' He took a gulp of his bottle and tried to forget.

You turned from them, thinking of how he lost you in his universe and how you lost him in yours. Both of you couldn't do anything to save it. Perhaps, you were destined never to live happily. You let him and Laura say their farewells in peace before she walked by you, offering you a small side hug.

'Is it your turn, bub?' Logan called to you. 'You gonna give me a speech?'

Cautiously, you stepped closer until you could see the tears in his eyes and the sweat on his brows. 'You never really listened to the speeches.'

He scoffed as you sat where Laura had, if not a bit closer. You couldn't help it. 'And you were never really the sort to give them,' he said, looking to you. His face froze when he caught sight of you. You wondered if he was thinking how similar you looked to her, because all you could think was how close he looked to him. 'You're not my, Y/N.'

'And you're not my Logan.'

You sat in silence for what could have been hours before Logan offered you the bottle. You took it and gulped down more than you should've. You coughed, practically shoving it back to his hands. 'God, I never knew how you drank that.'

He chuckled. 'I know.'

Perhaps not completely different.

'Wade says I died for her, that kid,' he said.

'Laura.' You smiled. 'You were dying anyway. Giving yourself up to protect the kids and her, is probably just a way to speed up the process.' You were taken back to that moment like it was a dream, the blood, his eyes, his last words.

He shook his head. 'If you're Logan was any Logan, then he'd never have voluntarily let you go.'

The two of you met each others gaze.

'I just wanted to make him happy,' you said. 'In the end, I couldn't even do that.'

'You made us happy,' said Logan. 'I'm sorry, about what happened to your Logan.'

'And i'm sorry about your Y'N.'

The after:

You were dying. At least, you thought you were. You could've sworn you were in the void. But then, the TVA turned up again (you may or may not have put up a fight when they put their hands on you and Laura) and whisked you away to another universe.

'Welcome to Wade's world,' said the murk with the mouth, opening the door to you and Laura.

'That's not the trade mark, right?' you asked.

Laura laughed and walked in, joining the party.

Wade had pulled a few strings to get you and Laura back to his world to be with his Logan. It was a work in progress, sort of what the whole party was for. A dozen of his friends were invited just to get you and Logan in the same room together. Everyone was in on it, he suspected even Logan knew what he was doing but he didn't oppose.

Instead, Logan dressed some what good for the evening and planned to try to get to know Laura and to see you as you and not once his.

Wade ushered you through the room. 'There's drinks, food, cocaine cause disney's not here anymore, oh and-'

Logan set the dog- dogpool- into Laura's arms and headed to you. This was his que. 'Hey, bub.'

'Hi.'

The two of you silently stared at each other while Wade watched like a giddy school girl before he found Vanessa in the corner of his eyes and rushed to her.

‘You’re here,’ Logan noted.

You nodded. ‘So are you. You’re out of the suit.’

‘Yeah,’ he looked down at his outfit.

‘You always looked good in plaid,’ you said.

Logan looked up at you through his lashes. ‘Yeah?’

You nodded, lips forming a tight line.

After some more awkward small talk, everyone set down for pizza. You and Laura were introduced to the large group, making talk with them all- some you recognised, others you didn’t.

Laura sat between you and Logan, like a true child with her parents. You were just happy to watch her interact with him, sipping a beer as Logan smiled and chatted happily. He’d changed. His face lit up and he didn’t look like your Logan, but a happy one. It was a rare thing. ‘Oh, I’m gonna get the dog!’ She slipped from her seat, forcing you and Logan to acknowledge each other.

He nodded to the bottle in your hand. ‘Want another?’

‘I’m good.’

He nodded, finishing the rest of his. ‘She’s a good kid,’ he said.

You glanced back at Laura who was chasing the dog around. ‘Yeah, she is.’

Logan smiled at you. ‘You did good.’

Those three simple words seemed to tip the tension over the edge. It was all you’d needed to hear, Logan, telling you you were doing good with his last wish. Your eyes tears up, your hands shook.

You cleared your throat and pushed your chair back. ‘Sorry, need some air.’ While everyone chatted you slipped up from the table and out the front door- Logan watching you go, startling out of his own chair.

Wade turned to him. ‘What the fuck did you do?’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ he couldn’t wait any longer and followed you out.

He couldn’t see you when he stepped out the building and panic set into his bones. He sniffed the air and followed the trail down the side of the building where you leaned on the wall, your back to him.

He said the suit was all he had, but on his dog tags, hiddin under, was your ring. The last thing he had to remind him of you.

You heard movement and whipped around to see him. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s ok, bub.’

‘It’s just-'

‘I know,’ he said, holding up a hand.

You lean your back on the wall, taking him in as he stepped closer slowly. ‘You know i have nothing to remember him by. Not a suit. Not a picture. Even his dog tags were buried with him- or not anymore after what Wade did. Now, there isn’t even a grave. He exists only in here, in memory,’ you tapped your head. ‘And then you came and you’re just like him. Like a slap in the face.’

Logan nodded, listening and knowing the feeling. Every time he looked at you there was a twisting feeling in his gut, dread and desire mixing in the worst ways. ‘I told Laura that the suit was all I had to remember them by, but that wasn’t true.’

He stood before you and pulled at the chain around his neck. Dangling at the end were the familiar dog tags you knew and loved so much, between them a band of something else, branded with a diamond.

‘This was hers. Or yours, in my world. I’d given it to you a year before … the accident. Knew I loved you. Knew I needed you always. But I was still terrified, I’d never let you know that of course. This was all I had to remind me that you loved me.’

With enough time for him to tell you to stop, you reached out to the chain, looking at the ring.

‘You have good taste.’

He smirked. ‘Scott helped.’

You chuckle and gently set it back on his chest.

Logan took your hand, holding it, his thumb soothing over the back. ‘I know I’m not your Logan, but I want to be. I want you to be my Y/N.’

You knew the feeling. The hold he had on your hand, the only one to hold your hand since was Laura and even then, she carried a piece of him in her. Memories weren’t the only thing you had left of him- you had her. Your daughter.

Logan took one more calculated step toward you until the toes of your boots were pressed together. He held your other hand, pressing them between your bodies. ‘I want this, and so do you,’ his voice came out low, breaths like pants. He hadn’t been close to anyone in so long, it made sense the only one he’d return to was you.

You met his eyes and your resolve washed away like the ocean. You pulled your hands away from his to grab the side of his face and kiss him.

It was a slow movement of lips as you both got familiar with the taste of each other after all these years before his tongue licked over your bottom lip and you moaned into him.

Logan’s tongue swept in and the kiss became desperate. His hands fell on either side of you on the wall as you pulled him into cage you against the bricks. You barley pulled away for breath, like any space would kill you both.

You hands crept around until they were in his hair and tugging.

Logan bit down on your bottom lip before trailing down your jaw to your neck and biting down, groaning at the taste of your skin.

‘Logan,’ you gasped, rocking your body into his until you could feel the tent in his pants.

‘I need you, bub,’ he said into your neck, nuzzling his face there and licking and biting until you were bruised.

‘Baby,’ you trail a free hand down his chest until you grasped the outline of his heavy cock. He groaned and nipped harder.

‘Where are you- where are you staying?’

‘Hotel,’ you mutter in his ear, biting down in his earlobe.

‘Call a taxi.’

You pulled back enough to see his face, his expression drunk on you.

‘What about Laura?’

‘She can stay with uncle Wade!’ Called a voice from above. The two of you looked up to see Wade hanging out the window, looking down at the two of you. ‘We’ll have a girly night, let you guys get at it like rabbits in heat!’

Logan sneered. ‘Fucking jokes.’

Laura appeared next to Wade, poking her head out. As if indecent, Logan pressed his body into yours and you held onto his shoulders. ‘Yeah, I’ll stay with Wade!’

You sigh, knowing you’d regret keeping her with Wade but regret letting go of Logan even more.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The two of you were like teenagers. Like being in love for the first time all over again. Your hands remained hovering over his crotch throughout the taxi ride and his lips never left you alone.

You walked through the lobby with some dignity but by the time the doors of the elevator slid shut, he had you pinned to the wall and was sliding a huge thigh between your legs and letting you grind yourself on it.

You just had to have a room on the top floor. At some point, an elderly couple joined you and Logan pulled away just in time. He kept a firm grip on your hand and you dragged him out as soon as you arrived at your floor.

You fumbled with the key card and threw it somewhere else as soon as you got in the room.

Logan growled and kissed you, tongue parting your lips and teeth nipping. His hands grabbed your thighs and hoisted you until you were wrapped around his body like a kola on a tree. His hands moved around until they cupped your ass and moved you to grind into him.

You moaned into his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip as he made his way toward the bed.

He dropped you down as you bounced on the mattress. Looking over you, he made quick work at pulling his shirt over his head as you opened your legs, inviting him in. ‘Desperate, bub?’

You nodded, biting down on your lips.

What a sinful look. He moaned just at the sight of you before dropping to his knees.

You fumbled with your jeans, undoing them quickly and shifting your hips until Logan pulled them down and threw them behind him.

His hands were just as rough as your Logan and just as large as they climbed up your legs, his lips following suit. With every dent his fingers made his lips kissed until he was hovering over you me panties, damp and waiting. ‘Oh, poor cunt hasn’t been treated in a while, has she?’ He whined, looking up to you from between your thighs.

You watched his tongue dart out to swipe across you hidden pussy before falling back on the bed in pleasure. He’d barley touched you and yet you were a mess, wiling to beg and do anything for him. For any part of him. ‘Logan, please.’

‘I will bub, I will,’ he smirked, inching closer and closer. ‘But we have all the time in the world.’

He blew against your clit and begun to make out with the dampness of your pussy. His tongue only made it more wet, going between farting out and taking long strokes.

‘Logan,’ you pulled at his hair, trying to get him closer.

He hooked a finger through your panties and pulled them aside, burying himself in there.

The moans you emoted were pornographic as he took long strokes with his tongue, teasing you as his tongue repeatedly nudged your clit.

‘Fuck!’ You moaned, holding a hand to your mouth.

Logan looked up, saw this and grasped your wrist, pinning it to your stomach. He pulled away. ‘I will fucking stop and let you do the job if you dare think about shutting up,’ his voice was rasp and it sent a shiver through you. ‘I want you to scream, sweetheart.’

He spread your folds and feasted like a man starved. He had been. He’d forgotten things about you, the depth of your laugh or the twinkle in your eyes. The way your body vibrates and the way you taste. Now, he was willing to work days and nights to get it all back.

Your thighs trembled, caging around his head.

Logan laughed against your pussy. ‘You want to keep me here, baby? Want me to suffocate between your thighs?’ He didn’t even try and pull away. He grabbed your thigh with one hand and with his other, he slid a finger into your.

Your hands gripped the bed sheets. ‘Logan, I’m..’

He groaned, moving his hips against the sheets. He wouldn’t last long and he knew it, but he wanted you on your face before he came inside of you. ‘You’re so tight baby, did other Logan not treat you right? The way you deserve.’

You muled, unable to do anything else but squeeze your eyes shut and feel your high approach.

Logan laughed. ‘He didn’t stretch you out enough, did he baby?’ He slid in another finger and rested his head back on your thigh, keeping watch on you with dark eyes. ‘If it were me, I’d have fucked this cunt every day. Made it fit for me and only me. Have it crying out for me all day and every day.’

‘Logan, I’m gonna cum,’ you gasp.

He darts his tongue out and flicks your clit and scissors his fingers until you moan out, trying to lift your hips as you come all over him.

Logan doesn’t waste a second to lick you up. His tongue cleaning you softly as his fingers trace circles in your thighs. ‘So good for me, fuck, you taste like your mine.’

‘I’m yours,’ you utter.

Logan looks up at you, backing away from your legs. Your all over his lips, his tongue, his mind. He thought his dick couldn’t get harder but it strained heavy against his trousers. ‘All mine, hey bub?’

You put yourself in your elbows and look down at him. ‘All yours, Logan.’

He leapt upon you like an animal, flattening you to the bed with all his weight on top of you. Your fingers fumbled with his belt as he pulled away enough to rip your shirt in two, bra following.

He squeezed your tits, rolling one nipple between his fingers and taking the other between his teeth.

You panted under him, that familiar ache climbing up your body as you ground your damp panties into him.

Once you’d undone his belt, Logan tugged them off, freeing his cock.

‘Good to see all Logan’s go commando,’ you tease.

He smirks. ‘Only for you, bub.’

He trails kisses between your tits, trailing all the way down your stomach before he found your panties again. He pulled them down agonising slowly with his teeth, your body awakening in shivers at the touch.

Once you were both left bare, he took his cock, pumping it and looking at you withering body, awaiting him.

‘You want my cock, sweetheart? Want it inside of you?’

‘Please.’

‘Were you always sweet for your old man?’ He asked, slowly sinking lower, this tip of his cock feeling your heat. ‘Did you tease him? Were you a good girl for him?’

‘Yes!’ You whine.

He laughed at your desperation.

‘You gonna be good and take it like my Y/N?’ As he asks, he slips the tip between your folds and moans out, throwing his head back as you bite down on your lip, whimpering. ‘Oh fuck, bub. Shit. Too good for me.’

You grasp at his back, trying to pull him in more.

He tutted. ‘That’s not very patient of you, thought you were gonna be good.’ He wanted to tease, wanted to spend the rest of the night getting familiar with you again, but fuck did you feel so good swallowing up the tip of his cock.

‘I’ll be good, Logan.’

‘Fuck, yea you will, bub,’ he slides in further, gripping the base of his cock to guide himself in. ‘Fuck.’

The two of you are silent, gasping and groaning as he tries to fit himself all in. Your legs are spread and you clutch onto his shoulders.

When he’s half way, he pulls back only to slide in faster, deeper. He repeats, muttering under his breath. ‘Fuck, fuck, shit Y/N.’

‘Logan,’ you moan.

‘I love hearing you say my name,’ he groaned, dropping a kiss to your shoulder as he moved in and out of you. He sped up, gripping you ass to hoist you up and reach in deeper.

You moan loud enough to shake the walls.

‘That’s right. Taking me- fuck- taking me just like you always have, he grunted, looking down at you. Looking down at where he disappeared inside of you, to know it was real.

You grabbed his shoulders, urging you over him as he thrusted in at an un-relenting pace. His chain of dog tags and the ring dangled in your face and you let your tongue out so he could dip the cool metal on your tongue.

Logan moaned and stilled, grabbing your hips. ‘Want you to ride me, bub.’

With a smirk, you tossed yourselves over until Logan was spread out on the bed and you could sink all the way down on his cock. You did it faster than he’d expected, just to see his eyes roll to the back of his head.

His grip on your hips remained tight enough to bruise, but he let you set the pace.

You dreaded yourself on his chest and started slow, agonisingly slow. Enough to torment him.

‘Bub,’ he growled.

You smirked and started to bounce, started to move quicker, throwing your ass against him every time.

The bed rocked on the wall and his growls were animalistic. The rocking of the bed became in time with the slap of his balls against you ass.

‘Keep going bub, I’m gonna cum,’ he said.

‘Cum inside of me,’ you pant, sweat causing the baby hairs to stick to you.

He looked in your eyes, his cock twitching inside of you. ‘Yea? Want me to fill you up, huh?’

You nodded, chasing that familiar buzz in your gut.

‘Bet your Logan didn’t fill you up to the brim. Not as much as you deserve, you deserve it all. Don’t you baby, say it!’

‘I deserve it all,’ you utter. ‘Logan I’m-‘

Logan groaned and he lurched up, gripping your body close to his as he came inside of you, his seed coating your walls as yours ran down his cock to the base. He bit down on your shoulder, twitching as he held you both.

Once you’d both recovered, gently, he rolled you over until you were back in bed and he was still inside of you.

You watched him, marking every bit of him in your memory.

Logan saw this and cradled your head. ‘I’m not going anywhere bub, and neither are you.’

He kissed you sweetly, taking his time to steal your breath and feel your lips. Tasting like home.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

When you next woke, with the sun up, you felt a heavy arm draped over you and an even heavier body practically on-top of you, caging you to the bed. He was warm, smelled like whiskey and sex.

Logan. Now your Logan, back in your arms

Memories of last night came back to you in fragments like a dream. You fingers brushed through his hair. There were a couple bruises littered around his neck but you were sure there were more on yours.

‘Mornin’ he grumbled, burying himself closer to you.

‘Indeed.’ Said a voice.

Your head shots up as Laura sits in a chair across from the bed, arms folded over her chest and smirking at the two of you. It was lucky Logan’s body covered yours, but all your clothes were still scattered everywhere and the quilt just about hung over Logan’s backside.

He hardly blinked, ‘hey kid.’

You fell back on the bed and for the first time in years, you laughed.

[flowersdiceandlove]

Svsss au where Shen Qingqiu’s female. Shen Yuan is still male though. When he transmigrates into SQQ he freaks out not only because he’s the scum villain but also because he’s a girl now. Where is his dick?!? Airplane, you hack, give me my dick back!!!

LBH’s still a guy and everyone else is the same gender too. It’s just SQQ that has the genderbend. And Shen Qingqiu stews over the fact that not only is he a scum villain and a girl, he's the only woman in PIDW that actually gets a bad end and not just tossed into the harem because Shen Qingqiu was just that bad of a scum villain that not even Luo Binghe, stallion protagonist, husband of hundreds of wives, wants to seduce and papapa her into submission like he did with so many other villainess beauties. And it's not the beauty that's the problem. Shen Qingqiu is beautiful. Like an immortal fairy descended from misty peaks to grace the mortal world. Just the type to fit into the harem. So, it really is a testament to how much Luo Binghe hated her that he tortured and killed her instead.

During the three years of LBH in the abyss, SQQ finds a plant or smth that can turn him into a man. So he eats it or whatever. Then, bam. Male Shen Qingqiu.

Fast forward to Jinlan City and Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe meeting again. Luo Binghe freezes and his eyes rack up and down Shen Qingqiu’s form, over his face and repeating the process a few times before stuttering out a very choked and strangled “Sh—Shizun?” Because just did Shen Qingqiu get hotter as a man?!?! (He didn’t but Luo Binghe didn’t know about his transformation and going through the shock of it and a gay panic at the same time. And they’re really close together so he can see all the small changes that are making Shen Qingqiu more masculine instead of feminine.)

“Luo Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu replies, flicking his fan open, his voice cool and even. And Luo Binghe chokes, wheezing out a breath at hearing not only Shen Qingqiu’s deeper, masculine voice for the first time, but that voice saying his name. Send help, this boy is not doing well.

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, struggling for something, anything to say.

"Uh..Um.. Sh-Shizun looks...nice," he eventually says, feeling like an absolute idiot! Of course, Shizun looks nice!!

"...As does Luo Binghe," Shen Qingqiu replies, feeling out of depth because Binghe is two years yearly, and why is he acting so weird? Shen Qingqiu's trying to find Luo Binghe's angle for this weird behavior. Is he playing the traumatized victim of the scum villain teacher? But, if he is, this behavior doesn't seem quite right for it... "Binghe has certainly grown more into himself," he decides to add. More compliments can't be bad, right?

And Luo Binghe's brain short circuits again because Shizun just said he looked nice!!

He lets out a high pitched squeak. Shen Qingqiu is horrified, wondering what is wrong with Luo Binghe. Why is his face so red? And his eyes are shifting around erratically, not focussing on anything. (Luo Binghe can't keep his eyes on Shen Qingqiu--he's to handsome to look at--but also can't look away from him. Seriously, he is struggling bad. Gay Panic: 3, Luo Binghe: 0)

Seeing Luo Binghe continue to look bright red, act weird, and his face look kinda contorted honestly, is making Shen Qingqiu worried about him and his eyes land on Xin Mo. Ah. Xin Mo must be affecting him!! Shen Qingqiu thinks, and calms some at knowing what's wrong. Then that calm is replaced by panic, because Luo Binghe effected by Xin Mo is never a good thing. See, Binghe! This is what happens when you rush your leveling up arc!!

Without thinking, Shen Qingqiu steps forward and lifts his hand to feel Binghe's forehead. Just as he thought. Binghe's burning up. Shen Qingqiu frowns and hums. Luo Binghe goes a bit cross-eyed and his face heats up even more at Shizun touching him. He get's a bit dizzy from it and sways on his feet. Shen Qingqiu's eyes widen at this and reaches his hands out to gab at Luo Binghe's upper arms, stabilizing him. At this, Luo Binghe lets out a high and quite whine in the back of his throat. Shen Qingqiu is very worried now.

Keeping Luo Binghe supported in his grasp, he looks around at the gathered Huan Hua Palace disciples, wondering why one of the girls here isn't rushing to help Binghe. That's what you're here for!! he thinks scowling, then barks out orders at them to find a room for Binghe to lie down in. While they don't really want to take orders from him, they do and find a room. In Shen Qingqiu's ordering, he calls LBH "Binghe" not "Luo Binghe" and it's not helping Luo Binghe regain brain functions.

"Come on, Binghe," Shen Qingqiu whispers to him, ushering him towards the room, "right this way. Can you walk or do you need this master to carry you?" Luo Binghe just whimpers which only worries Shen Qingqiu further and he hurries Luo Binghe to the room faster. Once there, he settles Luo Binghe on the bed. In all his worry, he's fallen back into Protective Shizun Mode that cares for his sick disciples (or Mommy Mode if you prefer). So, he orders the Huan Hua Palace disciples to get water and a cloth and lays the cool towel on Binghe's forehead who's just staring up at Shen Qingqiu with wide eyes. "Shhhh...It's okay, Binghe, you're okay..." he murmurs and Binghe whimpers again, needing to close his eyes. He thought Shizun hated him and thought he was a monster to be put down, but here he was caring for Binghe so sweetly and gently, his touches soft and whispering reassurances to him.

Shen Qingqiu continues to hover over him replacing the cloth when it grew warm, brushing his hair out of his face, patting and stroking his head gentle, and transferring qi to him to try and sooth the effects of Xin Mo. While this little...bout...wasn't brought on by Xin Mo, the sword is still effecting Binghe to at least some degree, so Shen Qingqiu is mitigating that effect. Luo Binghe can only lay there, helpless against the effects of his Shizun and soaking in his affection.

The System kept on giving Shen Qingqiu point increase updates, but they got so frequent that they were annoying and distracting, so he muted them. Shen Qingqiu has however clocked that him pampering Binghe like this and caring for him in such a difficult time is helping his situation and he's hopeful he won't be turned into a human stick as soon as Binghe regains his strength.

One of the Huan Hua Palace meimeis finally can't take it anymore and steps forward, "I can do that. No need for Peak Lord Shen to trouble himself," she says, barely able to hold the vitriol in her voice back. Shen Qingqiu knows his queue when he sees it (at least he thinks he does) and nods gracefully, rising from his seat beside the bed to let her sit in his place. The girl looks smug for only one moment before Shen Qingqiu stops and looks back down at Luo Binghe. He had reached out and grabbed onto Shen Qingqiu's sleeve.

"Shizun, don't leave me," he whispers so soft and broken sounding. He's utterly wrecked by the amount of emotions that have been surging in him, first from the gay panic and then Shen Qingqiu pampering him when he thought he was hated. (Xin Mo wasn't helping either.) And, Shen Qingqiu's heart just cracks at how vulnerable and broken he sounds and the teary look in his eyes, and just plops back down in the chair, grasping Luo Binghe's hand, not breaking eye contact.

"I won't. Shizun won't go anywhere, Binghe, okay?" he says without thinking. Luo Binghe nods and hums, a couple tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. Shen Qingqiu reaches out to wipe them away with his sleeve, one hand still firmly holding Luo Binghe's hand. And, while he hadn't thought before sitting back down or speaking, he can't bring himself to take his words back. Not when Luo Binghe is like this. He clearly needs someone to care for him, and for some reason he wants that person to be Shen Qingqiu. And, who is Shen Qingqiu to deny the protagonist what he wants? And his little disciple at that? While he knows that Luo Binghe is supposed to be blackened right now, when he looks at him, all Shen Qingqiu can see is his little disciple wanting his Shizun.

The Huan Hua Palace girl, though, not wanting to give up just yet, steps forward once more, determined, "Really, I--"

But she's cut off by Luo Binghe growling at her lowly and giving her a harsh glare. She's shocked still by it, her eyes widening and face paling.

On instinct, and so caught up in nostalgia, Shen Qingqiu snacks Luo Binghe's head and glares at him, "Don't growl at her. I taught you better than that."

Luo Binghe looks up at him with wide eyes like a child caught misbehaving, then mumbles demurely, "This disciple is sorry. He won't do it again."

And that shocks Shen Qingqiu out of his nostalgia and he realizes he just smacked. Luo Binghe. The post-abyss Luo Binghe. And scolded him like he was still his teacher and not a scum villain. Terror racing through him, Shen Qingqiu gently pats and soothes Binghe's head, saying sweetly, "Ah, no, it's okay. Binghe needn't apologize, he can growl all he wants." Hopefully that'll do it, he thinks while he continues to pat Binghe's head and fluffy hair. Luo Binghe just stares at him with wide eyes again, his face heating again as well. Then Shen Qingqiu starts fussing over him again and his red face, the girl forgotten. "Ah, is Binghe's fever back? Just lie still. Hey you there--get more water!" then turning back to Binghe and transferring more qi.

Luo Binghe continues to KOed by Shen Qingqiu until he's nothing more than the whimpering, sticky little disciple Shen Qingqiu remembers him to be. just with claws and a demon mark and red eyes and powerful demonic qi. and an evil sword. But still Binghe!! His sweet little bun that just wants his Shizun. (Binghe gets rid of the evil sword when Shen Qingqiu expresses his dislike on how negatively it's effecting him.) And, if Binghe wants his Shizun, then how can Shen Qingqiu deny him that?

[greynatomy]

worth the wait?

leah williamson x reader

i know i said that i retired from writing but i couldn’t not put one out for a pretty girl’s birthday, even if it’s a bit very late. happy birthday @totaly-obsessed <3

also credit to the show ‘scorpion’ for a bit of the plot and dialogue. it’s what inspired me to write this

———

The last three years was nothing short of a roller coaster. You moved to England from your small apartment in New York to work for the government — after being caught hacking into all their data, only telling them that you’d tell them exactly how you did it and wouldn’t be charged with anything.

In the first couple of weeks of getting settled in your new place, you’ve been going to the same little diner every single day. The diner was busier than normal, but you still took up a whole table to yourself, folders littered on top as you typed away on your laptop. 

You didn’t mind how busy it was, all in your own world until a figure slid into the booth right in front of you. You look up, eyes blinking rather quickly.

“Uh, I don’t know you. Why are you sitting there?”

Shocked by your words, she spits out a venomous apology, sliding out of the booth.

“I can see by your facial expression that you aren’t rather pleased by how I talked to you. People have told me that I have a very low EQ and don’t know how to deal with… emotions because I do not feel as one normal human does.” 

The woman sits back down in the booth in front of you, face now showing an amusing expression.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N Y/LN.”

“Well, Y/N, it’s interesting to meet you.”

“It’s interesting to meet you too.”

There’s a bit of an awkward silence as you kept staring at her. She shifts in her seat, not knowing the reason for your stare.

“You never told me your name.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh! Sorry, it’s Leah, Leah Williamson.”

“Okay.” You give her a tight lipped smile, going back to your work.

Leah was unsure of what to do. All she knows was that she saw a pretty girl in a crowded diner taking up a whole booth and next thing she knows, she’s sat across from her.

As she works up the courage to start a conversation, she’s lightly shoved deeper into the booth.

“Jen has a case for us so pack up.” The person is gone before she could steady herself.

“I apologize for Natalie’s demeanor, but this is urgent. Goodbye.”

Both of you didn’t know, but that would be the start of a very complicated relationship. The pair of you have gotten close over time, you even going to games to support her even if it’s not your favorite place to be.

You’ve also gotten close to some of Leah’s teammates, well you tried to keep your distance, but they keep popping up beside you.

“When are you gonna ask the skipper out?”

You were currently doing a crossword puzzle — not really a puzzle because all the answer were much to easy for your very smart brain — when one Katie McCabe came up to stand next to you after the game.

The team had just won against Aston Villa and are getting showered and dressed before leaving the stadium.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, come on man! Stop being a wimp and ask her to dinner.”

“Right now?”

“Yes! Right now!”

Standing by the locker room, you wait for the blonde to make an appearance.

“Y/N! Glad you could make it!” She walks up to you, wrapping her arms around your neck, pulling you into an embrace.

“Of course. You gave me tickets and- and you’re playing. You played great by the way.” You stutter a bit, always getting taken aback when she hugs you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Hey, uh, listen. May-maybe you’d want to—”

“—Hey, Leah!”

Your words were interrupted when a girl who had on gear from the opposing team walked up to where you stood with the girl mentioned.

“Jordan! What’s up?”

“Just wondering if you were still up for later?”

“For sure.”

“Okay! It’s a date!”

“It’s a date.”

Watching her walk away, you were frozen. Your plan was now thrown out the window.

“What were you saying?”

“Oh, just that I am, uh, going now. Goodbye.”

You turn your heels and speed walk your way out of the building, leaving a confused Leah behind.

Heating footsteps catching up behind you, you see Katie beside you.

“So? How’d it go?”

“Great, in fact. She has a date.”

“That’s amazing!”

“With Jordan.”

“Wait, what?”

You didn’t say any more, hopping into your car and driving off.

The Arsenal women hadn’t seen you in a week since you told Katie about Leah’s date. No one bothered to ask Leah because one; they didn’t know how to approach the situation and two; you asked them not to say a word.

You were stuck in your apartment as far as anyone knew, locked yourself away from everyone and everything other than your work and coworkers.

Leah and Jordan’s relationship didn’t last long, couple months at most and everything was mostly back to normal between the two of you. 

As much as Leah’s friends love and care for Leah, they grew fond of you too and didn’t like how she was treating you like some second option.

Of course you were completely oblivious, emotions are difficult for you to understand, not knowing why people keep telling you to be cautious with your heart.

Going into year two of knowing Leah, you’ve been to your fair share of dates of your own. Failed dates are what you would say they were because they never understood how your mind works/never took the time to understand you. 

“Hey, mate! It’s good to see you!”

Turning around, you spot Katie with a shopping basket of her own.

“It’s been a while since you’ve come around.”

“I have been very busy as of late.”

Before Katie could say a reply, she was interrupted by a familiar person.

“Hey, Katie! Did you happen to already grab the tomato sauce?”

Leah Williamson in all her glory, except she wasn’t alone. Your eyes tracing her figure from her eyes all the way down her arm to where her hand was, clasped with another.

“Y/N! Didn’t expect to see you here bud!”

‘Bud?’ You thought. ‘A very platonic name to call someone.’

“Leah.” You turn back to Katie. “It was very nice to catch up with you Katie. Goodbye.” With that you walked away.

“What’s her problem?” Leah asked, eyebrows furrowed as she watched your figure become smaller. Katie just sighs, rolling her eyes and also walking away from Leah.

This year was already starting way different from the last. You’ve locked yourself up, not bothering to leave your apartment unless it was for work.

And Leah? Well, she’s been preoccupied with her new relationship, pushing you off to the side once again. 

You were spiraling, not that you knew, not understanding what you were feeling so you hopped in your car to go for a drive.

Gripping onto the steering wheel with tears streaming down your face, you step on the pedal harder, not aware of anything around you. Next thing you knew, all you saw was black.

Back at the warehouse, Natalie was wondering where their leader could have gone, surprised how you weren’t there with them as you’re always early. The rest of the team had no idea where you were so she called the very last person she wants to call.

“Nat?”

“It’s Natalie, Williamson.”

“Uh, Okay. Natalie? Why are you calling?”

“Is Y/N with you?”

“No. Why?”

“Goodbye.”

Leah quickly gets out of bed where her girlfriend laid with her.

“Where are you going?” She asked, only to be ignored, the sound of the door slamming echoes through the house.

“Have you found her?” Was the first thing Leah asks as she barges into the warehouse where the team, minus you, gathered.

“You are not welcome here.” A man walks up to grab her arm.

“Let go of me. She’s my friend.”

“Some fucking friend you are then.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Where’s your girlfriend?”

The arguments escalate, voices are being raised not noticing a figure walk through the door on unsteady feet. 

“What is with all the shouting?”

That’s when they see your disheveled face, eyes bloodshot from what looks like crying. It was silent for a moment before they all started shouting again, this time directed at you.

“Where have you been?”

“We’ve been trying to reach you for so long!”

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

“Shhh! You’re all too loud, thank you.”

Leah stomps over to you, grabs your hand and pulls you up to your room.

“Why are you trying to pull my arm out of its socket?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yes? You were pulling too aggressively.” You state, walking to your closet to grab a new shirt.

“Everyone was worried about you.” You exclaims, hands waving to show how angry she is. “I was worried about you!”

“You were?” You ask, your fingers stopped buttoning your shirt halfway up.

Taken aback at your confused expression, she carefully steps towards you, trembling hands helped you finish the last buttons of your shirt.

“Of course I was! You’re my best friend.” She runs her hands from your chest, past your neck, resting on both of your cheeks, thumbs rubbing soothingly.

“If you are, then have you noticed this is the first time you’ve said a word to me in about three months?” Your voice was soft, tears on the verge of falling as you looked into Leah’s eyes.

“What?”

“You’ve not even looked my way when we happen to be in the same room together.”

“What-what do you want me to say here?”

“What I want you to say is why you always avoid me once you get into a relationship? And don’t give me that shit where-where she’s your girlfriend and-and she comes first because I was always pushed to the side with Jordan and now with whoever you’re with now.”

“That’s not true!”

“I don’t know what to tell you. But don’t come running towards me once this relationship of yours tragically ends just like the last time.”

You grab your jacket and walked out of the room, leaving Leah with her thoughts.

The drive home was quiet, the sounds outside of the car muffled. The key twists to unlock the front door, closing it behind her. Walking into the bedroom, she spots her girlfriend who’s sat on the bed, seemingly has not moved from when she left her.

“You okay?” Leah heard the question, but didn’t answer. So the woman pushed. “Where did you go? What happened?”

“Leave.” It was whispered too softly to be heard.

“What?”

“Leave!” Her voice stronger.

“What do you mean leave?”

“I mean leave my apartment. I-I don’t. I don’t know, but I wanna be alone.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“Please.” Vulnerable. That’s how she sounded, almost pleading for the woman to do as she says. Getting the hint, she hastily leaves, grabbing all her things.

Finally alone in her apartment, Leah lets the tears fall, the weight of the day felt heavy on her shoulders.

‘I was always pushed to the side.’ Your voice echoes in her head. Did she push you aside? But she didn’t mean to. Right?

She doubted herself, unsure of what was true or not, even if she was the one who lived it.

Months passed with no communication between the two friends former friends. Well, Leah tried, texting, calling, sending letters and was met with nothing but radio silence. Leah isolated herself. She barely slept, went to training and home right after, not going out with friends to celebrate after a win. If she did go out, she finds herself staring at the entrance, hoping you would walk through.

You were the same.

You stared at the computer screen, eyes flicking from one thing to another. The numbers and letters blurred together, seemingly losing all meaning, but that was okay. Meaning wasn’t the goal. Distraction was. 

Your coworkers, your friends grew worried. They could see the dark bags that formed under your eyes, knowing you haven’t been sleeping much.

They never brought up Leah. She was the she-who-shall-not-be-named.

An envelope being placed on the keyboard snaps you out of working, seeing it was addressed to you. Opening it up, you see it was an invitation. A wedding invitation from two of your friends.

‘It was about time.’ You thought.

So here you were, sitting in your seat, which was conveniently right in front of Leah’s. Of course she’d be here. The guests mostly consisted of her friends as this was a teammate’s wedding.

Leah couldn’t keep her eyes off of you, even if it was just the back of your head. The bride stood at the altar, tears falls down her face as she sees her bride walk down the aisle.

At the reception, you stood off to the side, a bit overwhelmed by the amount of people around you.

“Would you like to dance?”

Turning towards the voice, you find yourself standing face to face with Leah and man does she look beautiful.

“I-I don’t know how to dance.”

“That’s okay. Just follow my lead.”

She grabs both of your hands, placing them on her waist as her arms rest over your shoulders.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for months.”

“I know.”

“And you didn’t bother replying back? I even sent letters. Who even sends letters to anyone during this time anymore?”

Your purse your lips, not knowing what to say.

“Why? I’ve been trying to-to hopefully right my wrongs, but I can’t do that when you won’t even talk to me.” Leah’s voice held desperation. “I mean you can’t even look at me.” 

Your eyes flick up to meet hers.

“Do you remember what I told you the last time we talked?”

‘…don’t come running towards me once this relationship of yours tragically ends just like the last time.’ She nods.

“I was tired of being the second choice. Tired of being pushed aside everyone some other girl catches the slightest bit of attention from you.” You remove your hands from her waist and take a step back to distance yourself a bit.

“I want to state for the record that I am not under the influence of any substance. I’m just stating an irrefutable fact. I pushed you away… because I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since shortly after we met. And I’ve spent years trying to process how that should be handled. Perhaps it’s not something that is supposed to be handled. Maybe it-it’s something that just is.” You take a breath shaking your head, a bit overwhelmed with the confession you just made. “And I-I know you-you don’t feel the same as I do. And that’s okay. But I-I just wanted you to know.”

“Y/N.” Leah says softly, taking a step closer. “I’m in love you to too.”

You lick your lips. “I don’t know what to do with that information.”

“I have an idea.”

The married couple decided to sneak away for a bit, finding a supply closet in their venue. Opening the door, their eyes go wide.

“I guess Leah is no longer Voldemort.”

“Close the door.” Leah says, putting the shoulder strap of her dress back in place.

“Hey, guys. Why’d you guys sneak—” Alessia gasps. “What am I looking at?”

“Close the door!” You state louder, buttoning up your shirt, hair disheveled.

“What are you all looking at?” Katie asks walking towards the group, looking into the closet. “Well it’s about damn time.”

“Anyone else want to come by? How about Kyra?”

“What’s up guys?” Kyra comes up, biting into a pastry that was provided.

You both quickly fix yourself up, a bit embarrassed with getting caught. Leah gives them all a stare, her captain stare, to let them know that they need to leave.

Once they’ve left, Leah wastes no time pulling your back in, her lips easily finding yours as she closes back the door.

“Glad Leah got her head out of her ass.” Katie states, walking up to the bar with the group.

“Right!”

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Tim Drake: Ugly Duckling (dp x dc)

So this is the last day of pride month, and so also the last day of me trying to write as many LGBTQ+ canon dc characters. It’s been fun (and I got to read a whole bunch of comics which was actually much more fun than the first time I’d tried to read those!!)

Now even though this is the end of June, feel free to send an ask if you want me to write a blurb with any character. I make no promises, but I will very much try! (It might take a while especially if I’m in a Tumblr hibernation phase.)

Anyways, for the last day of pride month I wanted to do Tim Drake coz he’s dc’s main “it” gay girl. I’ve been working on this Dead Tired fic for ages, based on the post about Tim getting turned into a swan and meeting Danny, who as a prince has to give him a kiss to change him back (I can’t find the prompt but it was hilarious so this was my take on it).

Here’s the beginning of the fic:

Red Robin was on patrol duty, while Batman and Robin were following a lead on possible joker safehouses. All in all, It was a pretty quiet night with only two muggings, both low-energy as both perpetrator ran away as soon as a bat-shaped shadow moved. 

So Red Robin had spent most of the night chatting with Babs. He was grappling around town, as they started on the new date app they’d both found out Jason was using.

“I told him he can’t put only photos of his motorcycle but- wait I’m getting a call,” Oracle interrupted herself. Tim waited before the earpiece came to life again.

“Sorry to cut this short Red Robin, got a full-attention request from Canary. If you need anything, beep me, and Keep your coms open.”

“Bye, Oracle,” he said, and like that, Red Robin was alone once again.

 He stopped on Grand Avenue Station and just let himself take in Gotham. The city was beautiful at night, and Tim was itching for a camera. He seen hundreds of pictures of the city’s skyline but they always managed to be unique. The night sky may always be covered by dark clouds above, but Gotham had its own stars in the lights shinning on top of the skyscrapers. So lost in his thoughts, Tim was, he almost missed the soft noise that sounded behind him. The voice that sounded behind him was harder to miss.

“Wither away so late, Little Red Bird?”

Red Robin turned to see a tall woman standing half in the shadows

“Sorry, can I help you?” Answered the vigilante despite the bad feeling creeping up to him.

“I’d like to know where I can find your guardian,” the woman said, still in the shadows.

“You mean Batman?” He chanced.

The woman nodded and Tim resisted the urge to sigh.If this was another one of Bruce’s ill-advised fling, Tim was going to hack every electronic device the man had to play sex-eds on loops for at least a week.

“He’s busy at the moment.” Then feeling like he shouldn’t assume what the woman wanted Bruce for, he continued. “But if you need any help, I’ll do my best.”

The woman stepped forward, and Tim could see her better. Her face was bare, but her distinctive outfit seemed to indicate she was some kind of vigilante-slash-criminal. The outfit did, in fact, ring a bell in the back of his mind, but it was dim. Tim didn’t tense up, but he did angle his body in a way to accommodate for a better escape through grappling. She continued walking until she was within arm’s reach of Tim, towering over him. She extended a hand to lightly caress his cheek, and Tim went still at the touch.

“Such a kind Little Bird you are,” she said gently. “You know, you remind me of my daughter.” She sighed. “Oh, what pretty children you both are.”

“Thank you,” said Tim as he sidestepped out of the way. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”

“Oh she was,” the woman said and through his growing wariness, Tim spared a thought for the girl. “She had dark hair and the fairest skin, just like you. The most beautiful girl in the land some would even say.”

That niggling feeling came back as a feeling of familiarity poked at him once again. “You must’ve been very proud.”

The woman let out an airy laugh before saying playfully/contemplating. “mustn’t I?”

A shiver ran down his back. Alright, there was something wrong with this woman, and Tim wasn’t waiting around to find out what. Not without any information or backup.

“Well, if there’s nothing I can do for you, I really have to get going,” Tim said as he took out his grapple gun. In a second, the gun was ripped from his hand , and he was slammed to the side of the staircase leading up to the roof. He let out a gasp at the impact and his features tensed in pain. The woman hadn’t even touched him.

“Not so fast, Little Bird. We don’t want you going back to the Batman just yet.  I’m not ready to make him my Knight yet.”

“Your knight?” Tim managed to get out. He tried to move his arms, but some unseen force was pinning him in place. Shit, that meant he couldn’t reach the comm to send out a distress signal. Hopefully Babs would check in soon.

The woman smiled as she approached him once again. “What better for a Queen, than a Dark Knight?”

And just like that it clicked. “You’re the Queen of Fables.” 

“Well look at this, you’ve got the brains and the beauty,” she teased, her voice as smooth as honey.

“What do you want with Batman?” Tim asked though he could guess from previous encounters she had had with the Justice League that the villainess wanted to turn Bruce into a fairytale character of some sort. She’d done the trick on Clark, and twice on Diana, so it was probably Batman’s turn now. So, yes, Tim could guess, But the longer he kept her talking the more time he had to figure out a way out of this.

“I told you, he’ll be a Knight of the Queen,” She extended a hand and tilted Tim’s face up. “Do you know what that would make you Little Bird?” 

Most villains assumed the batclan worked like a crime family. So the family of a knight? “Nobility,” Tim guessed, unsure where this was going.

“Exactly.” She smiled, and then she moved. Tim braced for the hit.

Instead of a punch though, he only felt a tingling sensation. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, only for them to grow bigger as he took in his uniform. Or the lack thereof.

He was in something-century clothing, in some sort of frilly shirt and pants, all in white. This was worse than a punch. Then, as the thought hit him, Tim’s hands flew to his face only to come in contact with the silky fabric of a masquerade mask. He sighed in relief, and as he calmed down, he realized he was now free of the force pinning him down.

“The color is for my daughter,” the Queen said. Then, she let her head fall to the side before tracing a line across his forehead and Tim could feel something like a circlet setting down on it. “There you go. Now, it’s perfect. You could practically be siblings.” 

“No thanks.,” Tim answered.

The Queen tsked him. “That’s no way to behave Little Bird, has nobody taught you to say thank you when you receive a gift.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Tim disagreed mildly as he took stock of his weapons. Everything was gone, including the earpiece, which meant Babs had to have been alerted and someone was en route.

The Queen frowned. “I was going to be merciful, for you guardian’s sake, but I no longer feel generous.” She raised her hand and Tim tried to roll away, but the magic beam swerved and hit him in a blinding flash of light.

When he managed to open his eyes once again, the world seemed quite a bit bigger than it had been moments before. 

“What did you do to me?” He said. Or tried to say.

Instead a strange squawk echoed and Tim took a step back in surprise. However, he lost his balance and started to fall and as he tried to catch himself with his hand, two large white wings unfolded. He dropped down, which wasn’t as far as he would’ve estimated and laid stiff. He moved his left arm, and a white wing followed suit. 

Oh, no. Oh no no no.

A grating laugh interrupted his freak out. “There you are my pretty Little Bird, all better. White really is your colour, don’t you th-“

With a loud hiss, Tim propelled himself towards the woman. Making use of his newfound beak, he pecked and bit everything he could, as he flapped his wings.

“Blasted creature- Get off! Stop it, you despicable, puny-“ 

Finally she managed to grab Tim and throw him away from her. He landed with a squawk, but managed to get himself back to his feet quickly. “You little/awful brat,” she snarled. “You’ll pay for this!”

But as the Queen threw out her hand, something rippled in the air between them and the magic beam seem to explode midway into a green vortex. Tim’s clumsy attempt at waddling away had him head straight towards it, and it was in vain that he tried to redirect the course. She and Tim made eye contact as the swan-boy tipped right into the swirling green vortex, both of their eyes wide-open in surprise.

Danny was exhausted. He was currently on week one of the full month of Royal Duties he’d promised Clockwork. Being Prince of the Infinite Realm was not all that it was cracked up to be, and that was saying a lot since he had already been expecting it to be awful. 

When Clockwork had made the request, Danny had proceeded to freak out about his new status, and then tried to abdicate. It was only the master of time reminding him of all the terrible possible candidate for the throne per rites of combat (such as Vlad) that stopped him from washing his hands of this mess. And now Danny was forced to spend one whole month of his summer vacation in the Ghost Zone to fulfill his duty as a Prince. 

He thought it would be some paperwork, maybe a battle or two, nothing too bad, but nooo. Because, of course nothing was easy, Danny had to show up at Events, and be Diplomatic. It was meeting, after meeting, after weird parties that were a mix between Medieval Banquets and Debutante balls. 

And worse of all were the marriage proposals. Danny could sorta understand, marrying into royalty was a definite plus for a lot of more powerful ghosts but when they called him a half-breed behind his back, only to smile in his face with a marriage contract in one hand and flowers in the other, that was where he drew the line. 

Plus there was also the fact that he was, like sixteen.

Suffice to say, Danny was exhausted and hiding out in Pariah Dark’s old castle as a last resort. It wasn’t his favorite place all in all, but the gardens were absolutely beautiful, which was where he was walking. He was currently headed to the hedge maze, since it was the best way to get rid of any tails he may or may not have. 

The maze was nasty if it didn’t like you, and it didn’t like anybody but Danny, and even then, it still tried to take a bite every once in a while. Despite the snaking vines and roots trying to capture anything that moved, the flowers that wailed softly when disturbed or the sharp thorns of the hedge plants themselves, it was still a beautiful place. Uniquely, the closer you got to the centre, the more colorful (and dangerous) everything got, which was why he liked it best. 

He reached the centre much quicker than the first time he tried, thanks to the maze actually helping him, and something pale caught his eye right in the middle of the open area, right next to the bench Danny loved to use. As he got closer, he realized it was a swan laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

“Oh no,” Danny said as he approached. “What happened to you?”

As if awakened by the sound of his voice, the swan started to shift, its wings twitching and it rose its head groggily. As soon as it clocked in Danny, it let out a surprised squawk, followed by a long hiss as it struggled to move away.

“Hey, hey, none of that, Duckie, you’re ok.” Danny raised his hands placatingly. “I don’t want to harm you, ok? I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

The hiss subsided by a bit, but that may have only be due to the swan managing to get further away.

“Sh, sh, it’s ok,” Danny repeated as he slowly inched forward. The swan stopped hissing but still observed him warily. “I don’t want to hurt you Duckie, but I do think we’d better get you out of this maze.”

Danny took another step, and this time the swan stayed still. “How about bringing you back to my rooms just for now.” The swan hissed louder at the statement. “Don’t worry Duckie, I’m not keeping you prisoner it’s just this maze has been known to eat people. And you’re too pretty to be eaten,” Danny flashed a smile at the swan which had it stare back with a gaze saying really?

“So what do you say, wanna crash at my place?” Danny asked. The swan didn’t move forward but he didn’t move away either.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust a guy who talks to birds either,” Danny allowed. “And the place where I’m staying is a little gloomy, so I don’t blame you, but I can’t leave you here. The maze is honestly really dangerous, especially for a nice bird is like you. “

The swan seemed to hesitate before it hesitantly made its way to Danny. Ghost animals were usually smart but the swan seemed to understand English, which made communicating that much easier. Danny smiled and opened his arms. “I can carry you.” The swan just looked at him, with what Danny would’ve thought was a deadpan stare. “It would go much faster.”

If the swan was human it probably would’ve sighed, but instead, its wings just fell a little before it waddled towards Danny and looked up as if to say ‘get on with it’.

Danny smiled and gathered the animal in his arms. “Buckle up,” he said before flying off towards the maze exit, which was accompanied by a low hiss. Making sure there was nobody there to ambush him, Danny made it back to the castle in record time.

“Here we are Duckie.” Danny set the swan back down and it plopped down on the ground and just steadied themselves for a while.

Tim was a swan. He had wings and no fingers, and his feet were webbed.

He was handling it though. By which Tim meant he was shelving the impending panic attack for later when he wasn’t stuck in a swan body. 

Ok, so he’d been turned by the Queen of Fables, so there had to be an answer in a fairytale,a way to make him normal again. He knew the ugly duckling story. That had a swan in it, right? He didnt know any other swan stories, except maybe as a dish during the wedding banquet of whichever princess. He vaguely remembered a Barbie movie that had passed on the TV when he was younger but the only thing that came to mind were a scary-looking Troll thing, and ballet.  So with lack of better alternatives he was going to go with the ugly duckling. The ugly duckling’s happy ending was reuniting with family, so maybe all he needed was to make his way back to Gotham.

“Are you ok?” 

And that was another thing. The guy. The one Tim had at first wanted to get away from. He seemed nice and all, but he also had neon green eyes, and fangs. Unfortunately, while they suited the boy very well, they also marked him as an unknown. 

On the other hand, if the glowing portal wasn’t enough of an indication, the green tinge of everything around was clear indicator that Tim wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The guy seemed to want to help him, and having an ally wherever he was could only help.

Tim nodded as best as he could with his long weird neck, and he had to take a few steps to regain balance.

“That’s good,” the boy smiled with his white pointy canine. “How did you end up in the middle of that maze?”

Tim just looks back tiredly. He didn’t know how to even try and explain when he couldn’t say a word and had no opposable thumbs.

“Yeah, sorry.” The boy winced. “Maybe stick to yes or no questions.”

There was a sharp knock at the door that had the boy turning away.

“Prince Phantom!” A voice rung through the door.

Prince? 

The newly-dubbed Prince Phantom got up to open the door, “yes, what can I do for you?”

“Your meeting with Queen Dora is approaching. Do you still prefer to forgo an escort guards?” a purple lady was saying.

“I’ll be fine without, Maj but thank you very much,” Phantom answered with a polite smile.

“I’ll pass it along, my Prince.” She bowed and closed the doors behind her.

Phantom walked back to lay on the bed with a sigh. “I really hate that they call me that.” He turned towards Tim to continue. “I bet swans don’t have royalty. You guys had the right idea.”

[missbunnybunny]

╔═.✧ 🖤 ✧.═══════════╗

▶︎ 𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 

𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊.

╚═══════════.✧ 🖤 ✧.═╝

𝕿𝖜: ☞ 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝙽𝚘𝚗-𝚌𝚘𝚗, 𝙳𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 thoughts, 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢, 𝙱reeding, 𝙼ind break, 𝚁𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖, 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃! «🛑𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸🛑» ☜

Note: This is a y/n x pretty yandere, female-bodied reader.  pet names such as Darlin, Love, and Good Girl, etc. are used.

If I forgot something plz tell me. Like and re-blog, it helps getting these stories to new people!

🫧𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖎𝖓', 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓' ❣️💌💌 part 1

Y/n was startled awake and panicked. Holding the sheets over her naked body, she found herself in an unfamiliar room. 

Silent tears streamed down your face as you began to shake. He tricked you and took advantage of your kindness. 

You mourned your lost innocence for a short time when a knock on the door interrupted you. 

“ I apologize for waking you up, miss Y/n.” a handsome man wearing a suit and carrying a tablet said. 

The scared woman clenched the sheets tightly, “ My name is Ray. Mister Blackwell has asked for you to join him for breakfast.” the man expressed. 

“n-No! I want to go home…let me go!” Y/n cried, face red from crying. “ I'm afraid I can not let you do that.” he shakes his head, “The maids will come and help you dress,” Ray commented before turning and leaving the room.

You cried until your lungs burned and hurt. Until your body could no longer produce tears, the maids shortly came. They helped you bathe and dress in a beautiful gown. They tried to cheer you up, but it was to no avail. 

Soon, Y/n sat next to James at a large binning table. He kissed your cheek and caressed your skin. His touch was sweet and caring if it didn’t disgust you. Food was served, but you didn’t want to eat. You don’t trust that it’s not drugged again.

“ Say ah~ my dear,” he says, pressing a fork to your mouth. When you don’t respond, he squeezes your inner thigh. When your lips parted in a yelp, he fed you. He continued to feed you. If you didn’t open your lips fast enough, he would swirl your sensitive pearl. 

The food was finished, and tears dripped down your soft skin. “ Come on, smile for me, sweetheart,” he asked, cupping your face and whipping your tears. “ I just want to go home.” You tearfully repeated. 

“ We can’t have that, dear. This is your new home.” James informed her as he stole a kiss from her. “ I want to go to my store,” Y/n pleaded. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

“ I already told your employees to take a weeks-long paid break.” James, shut your request down. He wasn’t going to tell you that, but Ray hacked your email and made such arrangements.  

Your face dropped all hope of escaping, where shattered. 

It had been a few days, and James made sure that all doors were locked, and Ray informed you that you could go anywhere. But strongly warned that you couldn’t be outside without supervision. 

James never left your side for your entire time locked in the large mansion. Sleeping, bathing, or even walking, he was there touching any sliver of skin he could. If he couldn’t find you for a moment or have his hands on you, he would lose his shit. 

James knocked on the door to his room, smiling when he found your sleeping figure under the covers. 

He kissed your lips, his tongue intruding your mouth. Lifting the covers from your naked body, his fingers began to caress your sensitive bundle of nerves. He thanked himself for prohibiting you from wearing clothes to bed. 

Your back arched as you woke up with a moan. He knew you were still sensitive from last night. His fingers began to pump into your flower, while his thumb still caressed your clit. Y/n hit his toned chest, but that only fueled his passion even more. 

Your lips parted as he gave you a dreamy sign. “ I have to go into the office, honey,” James spoke, latching his mouth to your chest. Your hand pulled on his hair, making the man moan. 

James curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot, over and over. The tight coil in your stomach made you whine, walls clamping on his fingers. 

With one more firm thrust, the coil in your tummy snapped. Honey gushed over his hand, withdrawing his hand, and licked it clean.

“ I have a meeting today, so unfortunately I won't be with you for a few hours. Be a good girl and behave.” He kissed your sweaty forehead, taking his leave and leaving you tired. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

Y/n walked towards the side door, hoping, begging that she would get lucky. And it seemed that her prayers were answered. The maids forgot to close the door.

Her hand trembled and twisted the doorknob, slowly opening it. The wind blew, signaling she was one step closer to freedom. The door was left ajar as the woman ran to the street, with no phone and no way to contact her family and friends.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, ending up in the station. One she couldn’t enter because she had no money. An old lady exiting the station called out to her, asking if she was okay. 

Y/n said she was, but her eyes betrayed her. The kind old lady offered her help, to which she took it. “ I…I just need help to run away,” she admitted, desperate to leave. She didn’t know when they would have already noticed her absence.

The kind lady smiled and accompanied her to buy a ticket. When she handed the ticket to Y/n, the girl cried, thanking her. 

Y/n gave the lady all the jewelry she had, as a thanks and wanting to part with them in fear of recognition.

The train had arrived, and she left. Free, she was free. 

She planned to return home, take all her valuables, and disappear. She would be sad to close her store, but it was needed. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

James sat in the meeting, bored, his assistant as always trying to get his attention with skimpy clothes. She would never be like Y/n. She was dirt under his goddess's feet. 

Ray came into the meeting room, whispering something into the CEO's ear. James looked like a deer caught in headlights, “ You sure?” he asked, looking at Ray. The man only nodded. 

“ I apologize, but something important has come up.” he expressed, standing up and abruptly ending the meeting.  

“ Ray, get the helicopter. I’m bringing my little darlin’ wife home.” James expressed, loosening his tie. 

The train ride was an hour and a half, so she could get some well-needed rest. But her mind raced, what ifs consumed your every thought.

 “ Ladies and gentlemen, we inform you that the train will have a small delay. We shall be on standby for some time.”  the conductor announced, as the sound of a helicopter could be heard. 

Dread filled your stomach, making it sink. 

“ Miss, please come with us.” a man in a suit said, “ You have the wrong person,” Y/n said, hoping it would work. 

“ My sweetheart, don’t make me punish you. Not in front of everyone here.” James said in a low voice.  His threat made you shake, trembling, hand taking his extended one. 

There was no hope of escaping the lion's den once you had stepped inside.

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

James held Y/n’s hand tightly, making sure she wouldn’t escape as he took her to his room. He thrusts her towards the bed, “ If you love me, you’ll never do that again. Understand?” he warns, removing his tie. 

Y/n backed away until her back hit the headboard. The muscular man graded her leg and pulled her under him. 

She began to beg him to let her go, that she would stay and not run away. He shoves his tie in your pretty plump lips. 

Only allowing for moans and whines to filter through. 

He has you caged in between his meaty arms, his gaze held a lustful and hungry glint to them. 

Tears fell as if rain from your eyes, “ Don’t cry, I’ll make you feel good. I promise.” he kisses your tears.

Your tears felt like acid to his skin. He much rather you cry from pleasure. With his free hand, he removed his belt, tying your hands with them as if they were handcuffs. 

He rose and looked at your posed figure, his legs trapped by your hips, so you couldn’t escape from his embrace. 

He was going to make you feel better, make you see the high heavens. He began to worship your being kissing every scar, stretch mark, and so on. Any imperfection to you was perfection, a divine perfection to him.

Created by a higher being to be held, kissed, bitten, and claimed. 

He hiked your leg over his shoulder as he caressed your skin. Leaving kisses and hickeys over the skin. 

His hungry eyes looked at your teary ones, as he bit your leg.

His gaze lowered to your panties as he stared at them in hate like the small piece of clothing was holding your honey captive. 

The small piece of clothing became shredded into pieces when he ripped them. His rightful treasure was now on full display to him and only him.

 His large hand that once held your hip moved to your sex. With his index and middle finger, he spread your fold, groaning at the glittering sight of your slick.

His painfully hard member twitched upon seeing your dripping, aroused flower.

He groans, “ All this honey just for me?” he cups your cunt, feeling how it clenched around nothing.

Without warning, two larger fingers impale you, thrusting at an unforgiving pace. A long whine spills from your lips as you arch at the feeling.

He's hitting every sweet spot and curve inside you. His bulge grows even more at the sound of your watery juices. 

His thumb connects with your sensitive, neglected pearl, making you squirm and try to close your leg.

He slaps your pussy at the defiance, making electric pleasures shot throughout your body and brain. 

Y/n can feel the coil in her stomach tighten. Her hips met his thrust in chase of her own high. 

James speeds up his movements, watching as your eyes cross when he hits that spot.

Your walls begin to constrict his fingers, telling him that you're close. He bites the meat of your leg, his finger hitting deep inside you. 

Y/n came undone, eyes rolled to the back of her skull, drooling, back arch, and a pornographic moan of pleasure.

Cum covered his veiny fingers and his toned stomach. 

The sight almost made him cum in his pants. But, that milk was saved for his darlin's womb.

James pulled his pants down, allowing his hardened member to slap your sex. Thick and veiny. 

With your cum he gave himself a few pumps. The big man leans forward, his tip kissing your inviting honeyed entrance. 

“ See, you're so wet and sweet for me. You wanted this didn’t you?” he asks, his face flushed. 

His cock began to enter your wet, gummy walls, inch by inch. 

His hips stutter a little, and his body trembles with pleasure. The feeling of your lips sucking him in. 

With one hard thrust, he bottoms out in you. You moan, feeling so full, he begins to hump his manhood against your entrance. 

His almost in a trance, the sound of slick and moans adding to his resolve.

Each furious thrust thrusted her forward in the bed. His tip kissing her womb over and over, you’re moaning and pleas falling on deaf ears.

The makeshift gag swallowed all any sound that was not your monas, the sweet sounds of pleasure he wanted to hear from you. 

Y/n’s leg was still hooked over his shoulder. With his hands, he held her hips in a boa-constricting grip. 

Your overstimulated wall pulsed and twitched, “ Oh, you like that, huh?” he says, still drilling into her like a jackhammer. His hand pressed on the bulge in your small tummy. 

This made your walls tighten and pulse. His words and actions manipulated your dizzy pleasure-filled mind.

“ My pretty darlin’ going to look so beautiful, all swelled up with my child.” he groaned at the thought. Each thrust made your vision sparkle as if stars. 

The all-too-familiar feeling of the tight coil forming in your belly told you that you were close. James's thrust became uncoordinated as he chased that mind-numbing high he was looking for.

“You’ll make a cute mommy.” he moans. He removes your gag, as you beg and cry for him not to, but he crashes his lips against yours. 

He was going to snap you in half with the way he was bending your leg and fucking you at the same time.

The kiss was stymie, adding to the many pleasures you were feeling. Your mind was becoming blank, and you could only think of his dick inside you.

With a final harsh thrust, the coil in your gut snapped like a water gun. squirting over the man's abdomen and your inner thigh. 

James began to convulse, spilling his large fertile load at the feeling of your womb milking him dry. 

You felt so stuffed full and overstimulated. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to become a mommy, a slave to his man's cock. James’s load pulsed inside you, making his cum spill from your spent hole.

You will be the perfect cock-sleeve darlin’ for him, your eyes closed as sleep takes over you. a content smile on your face. 

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

A new 🕳 to hide in 👩‍🦯

Tag list:

@tremendousdinosaurpizza @violetvase

✦✧✧ ☆ ✧✧✦

©𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢! 𝙽𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎. - 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢🩻!

[washeduphazbin]

Could I get a one shot of, y/n is like Adam’s life ex gf she left after getting tired of his shit.. ended up falling in love with Lucifer.. (Mr. Steal yo girl thrice) and during the Adam and Lucifer battle Lucifer taunts that he stole all three of his lovers

YES. YES. I'm in love with Lucifer. Your wish is my command.

Sorry it's so short if we like maybe part 2

Also, poly luci x reader x Lilith (sorry, not sorry)

———

“Little duck?” Lucifer asked softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You were holding onto one of his plush ducks rather tightly,

"I can't help but think...that this extermination is my fault." Lucifer let out a gasp and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, "Lulu-"

"I won't have that negative self-talk in my house." Your brow furrowed in distress,

"But-"

"No buts."

"Lucifer! Adam's absolutely moved up the extermination to spite Charlie and us!" You argued, "I...what if I go back to him."

"Excuse me, what?"

"I don't want to!" You moved away from him to the portrait of Lilith, you and Lucifer hanging in the corner of the room. "I really don't want to..." You raised your hand and brushed against Lilith's horns and Lucifer's staff in the portrait. "You know I don't belong here; I'm not a demon, a sinner, or an angel either. I'm just a human who fell because I fell in love with you and your family." You smiled sadly over at him, holding out your hand. Lucifer squeezed it tightly, "What if I can solve all of this by just going back with Adam."

"That's not happening; I'm not letting you go back to that fuckwad;" He scoffed, brushing a hand through your hair, "Do you think you'll be happier with him? Without us? Without Charlie?"

"No." You laughed bitterly, "Of course not, Charlie would kill me."

"She absolutely would. You're like another mother to her; she wouldn't let you go back to that hellscape without a fight. Neither will I; I have a few words I'd love to share with Adam."

"Oh yeah? What would you say?"

"I'm sure you'll get to hear it eventually," he mused, leaning closer to kiss your cheeks. "Just stay safe and stay away from the Hotel until Charlie or I give you the okay, okay?"

"Okay." You whispered softly, bending down to plant a kiss on his lips,

"Did you really have to bend down like that," He huffed, hitting you gently with his cane.

"Oh, absolutely."

---

"Stay home? STAY HOME?" You roared, grabbing Lucifer's shoulders, "Everyone dying, and you want me to stay home!"

"For your safety and everyone's safety. Yes." He squeezed your shoulders tightly, "If it's between you and Charlie, I-"

"You choose Charlie every time."

"I love you-"

"I know. I love you too." You smiled softly, "Kick Adam in the dick for me?"

"It would be my pleasure, my lady. Here," Lucifer handed you his phone, "It'll live stream the battle; I hacked a VoxTech drone." He puffed his chest out proudly, and you beamed, taking his phone from his hands.

"I can't wait to see Adam get dick punched in HD!"

"There's the bloodlust I love so much; if I didn't have to go save Hell, I'd totally fuck you right now."

"Then you better leave now so you can come back and fuck me as soon as possible."

"Yes, ma'am!" He gave the dorkiest salute before teleporting out of the room.

---

"I am going to FUCK you!"

"It's fuck you up...dad."

Your face palmed, curling up on the bed, Lucifer's phone in your hand, watching the live stream.

"What? What did I say? Oh Shit-" Lucifer burst into laughter as he transformed into a snake to avoid being hit by Adam, "So this is what you've been up to since Eden, huh? I gotta you really let yourself go, buddy."

"Are you judging me?" Adam snarled in a disbelieving laugh, "You're the most hated being in all of creation!" Lucifer snickered as he turned into a bird,

"Well, your first wife didn't seem to hate what I had to offer, or the second bow chica. Wow, wow!" He splayed his fingers out in a V shape and stuck his tongue in between his fingers, "Not to mention your third."

"I'm sorry what!" He snarled,

"Oh, you didn't know? (Y/n)'s a doll, the tightest pussy Lilith and I've EVER shared!"

You made a horrified sound at the phone, wanted to absolutely curl up into a ball and die, Charlie didn't look any better.

"Dad!"

"You are so dead!" Adam shouted, "And I'm gonna find that bitch, and I'm going to make her pay!"

"Sure you are," he snorted, "I'd like to see you try."

[superbat-love]

Smallville AU, where Bruce investigates an attack in Gotham by technologically advanced superpowered aliens, tracking them down to Smallville. During his drive into Smallville, he has an accident with Clark and becomes suspicious due to Clark's lack of injuries, suspecting him of being involved.

Bruce, being paranoid, transfers to Clark's high school and quickly becomes Clark’s Enemy No. 1. He intimidates Clark in the hallways, trying to provoke him into revealing his superpowers. Clark also resents that the girls he likes have a crush on Bruce. Tensions escalate when Bruce discovers Clark’s pod on the farm, linking him to the aliens.

Eventually, Bruce realizes things don't add up. There's no way the farm boy, clueless about browser settings and using 'password' for all his accounts, could hack government databases. Clark is just an innocent metahuman with a diary full of complaints about Bruce and pretty privilege, high school crushes, and attempts at short stories (which Bruce has to admit were pretty good).

Bruce switches tactics, seeking Clark’s help to track the supervillains in exchange for information about his origins. Clark, with a strong sense of justice, agrees. Besides, how could he say no to Bruce’s heartfelt apologies, earnest speech about stopping crime and those big blue eyes? (He’s not going to delve too deeply into why he’s been feeling lightheaded around his former high school bully lately.)

They work together to stop the Kryptonian supervillains, and Bruce helps create a training program for Clark to develop his superhuman abilities in a controlled setting.

[tiny-space-platypus]

Never really fit back in

Part 5 9:47 PM June 26 How much can you lose in a day?

Previous

11:00 PM June 25

Damian was infuriated and terrified. He wanted to keep his brother from the family at first. He had wanted to meet him on his own first. Damian wanted to ease him into the family unlike how he was but apparently his family had other ideas.

He could only watch from the cameras he had hacked into a while ago. There was no time to get the Masters Manor, there was no time to protect his brother. Though Damian knew his brother never needed protection, Danyal Al Gul was the stronger twin, the smarter twin, and the more protective twin. Danyal never let Damian be punished if he could help it, Danyal took the blame for any misdeed or mistake and when he couldn't he'd just switch places with Damian. They were practically identical after all and every time Danyal would return smiling. Happy to have protected him and Damian repaid that kindness by killing him.

He watched as his brother disappeared out of his father's grasp. Damian would need to explain his brother to his family as soon as they got back.

He'd need to tell that that Danyal was supposed to be dead. By his hands. That he had died when he were 7. How he melted away into the pit instead of coming back to them.

He needed to find his brother, to explain this misdeed. He had just gotten his brother back Damian couldn't lose him again.

Midnight June 26th

"I'm your son"

The bitter and hurt voice of his son rang in his ears as he made his way back to the Alley. That boy couldn't be his son. He would have been told if he had another-

Tim was in the cave, Bruce had sent him there with samples from Danny. Samples he wanted tested and the computers he wanted scrapped. When the test came back, it confirmed Danny was his son. He needed answers and the Fentons likely had them. They did raise the boy after all but first, he had to see his parents. Bruce doubted he'd be able to follow his normal routine for the day anyways. So he left the flowers at the sight of their death early on the oh so rainy anniversary of their death. He whispered to flowers as he placed them down. "I don't believe I'll be able to follow our tradition this year. I'm sorry"

... The Fentons weren't as helpful as Bruce had hoped.

They practically knew nothing of their son or daughter instead they kept rambling on about the dangers of ghosts and Phantom. In short they were insane..

Until Tim and Barbara checked their computers, till they called an all hands to show the Fentons cutting open and tearing apart a boy with white flowing hair and terrified green eyes. The boy had some sort of muzzle on to prevent him from speaking or screaming, all he could do was cry as the Fentons spoke of him like he was a monster. Tim skipped over most of the recording, showing the Fenton pulling organs and bones out of the poor boy as he fast-forwarded to after the Fentons had left, leaving the boy strapped down and still cut open on their metal table. A red headed girl came down the stairs to the lab and carefully removed his restraints. In a small flash of light the white haired boy was gone replaced with Danny. Green blood now an awful red as his head lolled again the girl. The girl then threw him through a green portal they had been off when they tore down the Fenton Lab.

They were quiet for a moment before Barbara played the next Video of Masters making closes of Danny and using said clones to attack the boy. Then it was Damian's turn to explain his brother's story. By the end of it Bruce had realized his mistake but as it always was with his children. He realized too late.

9:55 PM June 26

It was raining when Danyal finally made it to Gotham. Flying would normally help with his rage, help with the emotions he normally refused to let loose. He wanted to make sure this is what he wanted so he waited a full day before taking action. The emotions he hid as Danny and festered in as Phantom where now let loose as his core slowly turned the rainy summer night of Gotham into a snow storm. Danyal didn't care that the living below him weren't prepared for the sudden change of temperature and weather. He didn't care because the living shouldn't be his problem. The living weren't his problem anymore. At least the dead were consistent, they either feared him or loved him or both. They didn't cause havoc anymore only occasionally coming around for a friendly spar. His rogues were more of a family than his real one ever was.

Ｃｒａｃｋ

It's time to balance the scales. The living loved to take and take and take and now it was time to give.

Ｃ ｒ ａ ｃ ｋ

Danyal could feel Gotham mourning. Mourning a loss from decades earlier, the loss of Thomas and Martha Wayne as the city did every year for her knights. Danyal does feel a little bad for disturbing a sacred day for the city but if anyone had the right to do so it would be him.

Danny stood in Crime Alley looking down at the soaking wet and slowly freezing roses left of the ground some time before he got there. He frowned at the roses as he made 2 little ice vases to place the frozen flowers in. Danyal knew they were memorial flowers by the two spirits that hovered around them. He sat with the ghosts of his would-be grandparents, rage still radiating off of him.

He detransforms back into his human form except for the glowing green katana he summoned. Now he waits, holding a katana that felt both so right and so wrong in his hands. Danyal will grow used to it again.

The two ghosts fidgeted as Martha elbowed her husband wanting him to say something to their angry grandson. He cleared his throat and tried to speak softly. "He didn't know Phantom. None of them knew. None of them like speaking of death."

Danny scoffed, "yes I am very aware of how uncomfortable the living are with dying." He ran his fingers along the edge of his blade. "It's what I get for hoping for something better. Now everything is so much worse."

Martha cut in her voice soft as she placed a ghostly hand on the young lonely king. "He would love to have you once everything is explained"

Danny buried his face in his hands before looking up at the smog filled sky. "I-I don't think I want that anymore. They didn't even try to get to know me before trying to destroy my life." Danny paused as he looked back at the frozen flowers. "Maybe I should go find Mother, she loved me once, she cared once. Damian can stay here and I can take care of the league. Maybe that's my place"

10:15 PM June 26

It didn't take long to be found, Danyal knew it wouldn't. There is always at least one Bat around here, he was expecting Red Hood or Jason whichever pill boy liked to be called. But that's not who found him. Instead he was face to face with Batman, instead he was face to face with a father that was never his. A father who never loved him.

Ｃ ｒ ａ ｃ ｋ

If Danyal hadn't followed his father or had lived with Damian as a child, he probably would have found the constant scowl intimating but Danyal was King and possible heir to the league. 2 positions he never wanted but 2 positions he'd take anyways. "I'm not here for you Batman. I'm here for my brother."

————————

Bruce looked down at the boy in front of him. A boy he failed to recognize twice, but now he couldn't help but recognize him. A boy who was almost identical to Damian except for the icy blue eyes that were currently staring a hole through him. Just like how Damian did when he first arrived at the Manor. Would this child also come to the manor? Would he even want to join the family after all they've done? What he could do was try and ensure their decisions didn't ruin his sons' relationship. Bruce couldn't let his mistakes tear his sons apart again.

"The attack wasn't Robin's idea. It was mine, I'm sorry." Bruce's gaze was soft and he was apologizing but it was all too little too late. "If I had known-"

Danyal stares at Bruce matching his gaze with a glare. He snapped at Bruce. "If you had known, you would have for tea? Played up that nice and goofy dad persona? I've played that game before too and I don't need to play it again."

Damian would soon drop down from the roof tops disobeying Bruce's grounding. Damian dressed as Robin with his katana stood facing a now different Danyal dressed in a league uniform. Danyal's eyes shifted a glowing green as his skin became as pale as Bruce and hair pure whispy white. He looked over at Bruce as his crown appeared over his head shifted between fire and ice as it floated above his head. A command rang out from the boy.

"Don't interfere"

Danyal then turned to Damian and held out his blade. Danyal's eyes were cold as he stared at his brother who also prepared himself to spare. He took a deep breath as he felt a little nostalgic this was just like how they'd spare when they were young except Danyal wasn't going to hold back this time.

Damian stared as his brother's cold glare, he wasn't used to it. His brother had always been the happy cheery and easy going brother. It was why grandfather didn't like him. It's why mother loved him. That glare however reminded him more of grandfather, a man he knew his brother hated.

"I once hoped we could be a family again Dami. I understand that was a foolish wish now"

Ｃｒａｃｋ

—————————

A small buzz came from Bruce Com, a small reminder he had built into it to remind him of the time every year at the time. 9:42 June 26th, 5 minutes til he's supposed to be in this alley watching over his parents Death sight. Yet again Bruce was powerless, unable to move to stop his sons from fighting. Unable to prevent another death in the family. The fight was quick, Danyal was the winner cutting down his brother as easily as he did to him so many years ago.

Bruce watched Damian fall and screamed as he tried desperately to move, to get to his son. He couldn't- not here, please not here. He watched as Danyal pulled out his sword allowing Damian to slump further.

Move MOVE MOVE 𝙈𝙊𝙑𝙀

But he couldn't, all he could do was watch as his son's face paled and breathing labored. Damian was dying and there wasn't a damned thing he could do... Again.

Danyal grabbed Damian by the hair pulling him up to the wounds through his chest was entirely visible and bleeding profusely.

"You're lucky I promised Mother I would always take care of you"

Danyal presses his green blade into Damian's chest allowing the living brother to take in the ectoplasm Blade to heal. The pit and ectoplasm were practically the same after all. Danyal then snapped his fingers after dropping Damian. Bruce Stumbled forward and grabbed Damian immediately then began to call for back up. As Bruce focused on his now unconscious son, Danyal disappeared into the shadows.

9:47 PM June 26th