#why do I have to feel like a sack of potatoes most of the time

[nearlyheadlesspeeves]

//

[solxamber]

Choose Us!

In which you have to decide on a dorm to become part of.

Part 2: You choose the dorm

"You're serious?" you blink at Crowley, half-expecting Grim to wake you up from this fever dream. "I can move into any dorm?"

Crowley clasps his hands together with a benevolent smile that doesn't quite match his usual dramatic flair. "Indeed, my dear prefect! It's the least I can do to ensure your safety and comfort!"

Grim looks up from where he’s gnawing on a suspiciously burnt sofa leg. "Wait, what about me?!"

"You’ll go where the prefect goes, naturally," Crowley waves off Grim’s protests. "Now, chop-chop! Let me know your decision by the end of the day."

And just like that, he floats out of Ramshackle, leaving you standing in the middle of the chaos.

Heartslabyul

The second you hit send in the group chat, you regret everything. Ace and Deuce don’t even wait for you to explain. Within minutes, they’re barging into Ramshackle like the Kool-Aid Man.

“Heartslabyul!” Ace yells, grabbing one of your arms.

“Obviously Heartslabyul!” Deuce hollers, seizing the other.

“I haven’t even decided—”

“Blasphemy!” Ace gasps, as if you’d just insulted his mother. “We’re your best friends, how could you even think about choosing another dorm?”

Deuce nods fervently, dragging you toward the door. “Heartslabyul’s clean! Organized! You’d thrive there!”

"And the desserts!" Ace adds. "Think of the desserts!"

Before you know it, you're shoved into Heartslabyul’s rose garden, where Riddle is waiting with the most extravagant tea party setup you’ve ever seen. There’s a towering cake, delicate pastries, and enough tea to drown Grim.

“I thought you might need proper refreshments while considering your options,” Riddle says, adjusting his posture like he isn’t secretly trying to sway you. “Of course, I have no preference where you go. I’m merely concerned for your well-being.”

Trey hands you a plate with the biggest, most immaculate slice of cake you’ve ever seen. “You’d fit right in here, you know,” he says kindly. “We’re all about structure and care… and good desserts.”

"Plus," Cater slides in with a grin, “imagine all the cool pics we could take together! #DormGoals, am I right? You and me chilling in Heartslabyul, like, all the time?”

Riddle clears his throat loudly. “This isn’t about favoritism, mind you. But if you were to choose Heartslabyul, you’d be part of a dorm that values discipline and respect for the rules.”

Ace nudges you with a smirk. “Ignore him. Just think of all the times I’ll sneak you extra tarts.”

You glance around at the hopeful stares. Grim’s already halfway into a tart he snatched off the table. “I feel like I’m being ambushed.”

“Oh, you are,” Ace says shamelessly.

Savanaclaw

You stumble out of the Heartslabyul tea party, feeling like you’ve consumed enough sugar to fuel a small country. Before you can even catch your breath, a shadow looms over you, and suddenly, you're hoisted into the air like a sack of potatoes.

“What the—JACK?!” you squawk, flailing as he throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing.

“You’re coming with me,” Jack grunts, completely unfazed by your protests. “You need to see why Savanaclaw is the best dorm for you.”

“I can walk, you know!” you huff, punching his back.

He ignores you. “Not fast enough.”

By the time he sets you down, you’re in the middle of Savanaclaw’s common area, where Ruggie is lounging on one of the couches, counting a suspiciously thick wad of cash. Leona’s sprawled out nearby, pretending to nap, though his ears twitch at the sound of your arrival.

Ruggie grins as soon as he spots you. “Ah, perfect timing! I was just telling Leona how we could totally use someone like you here. Right, boss?”

Leona cracks one eye open and yawns, his tone dripping with disinterest. “Tch. Don’t care. They can do whatever they want.”

“That’s funny,” Ruggie says, nudging Leona hard enough to make him growl, “’cause I distinctly remember you saying—and I quote—‘If they don’t pick Savanaclaw, everyone else can rot.’”

Leona sits up, glaring daggers at Ruggie. “I said no such thing.”

“Sure you didn’t,” Ruggie snickers before turning back to you, his grin as wide as a hyena’s. “Anyway, check this out. Leona generously donated some funds to help you... you know, see the light.”

He shoves the wad of cash into your hands. You blink at it. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Whatever you want! Snacks, clothes, bribes for your annoying friends in Heartslabyul…”

Leona groans and drags a hand down his face. “You’re making us look desperate.”

“We? Speak for yourself, Your Highness.” Ruggie winks at you. “He’s just mad ‘cause he doesn’t know how to be subtle.”

Leona slouches further into his seat, watching you through half-lidded eyes. “Look, Herbivore, if you wanna be around people who won’t coddle you, Savanaclaw’s where it’s at. We don’t do tea parties here—”

“Obviously,” you mutter, thinking about the claw marks on the furniture.

“—but we’ll actually challenge you to grow stronger. You can’t get that in the other dorms.”

Jack nods. “He’s right. And we’ve got the best training facilities on campus.”

Ruggie waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, training’s cool and all, but let’s focus on what really matters. Free snacks. Awesome vibes. Me.”

Leona rolls his eyes. “You’re going to scare them off.”

You cross your arms, trying to ignore the way Leona’s ears flick every time you shift your weight. “So… are you guys going to bribe me with anything besides money and vibes?”

Leona smirks. “What, isn’t my dazzling personality enough?”

Ruggie snorts. “Oh, sure. That’s totally why people flock to you.”

You can’t help but laugh, and Leona’s eyes soften just a little, though he quickly turns his head like he doesn’t care.

“I’ll think about it,” you say, handing the wad of cash back to Ruggie, who immediately starts recounting it like you’ve stolen some.

“Better think fast,” Leona mutters, though there’s the faintest curve of a smile on his lips.

Octavinelle

As you trudge back to Ramshackle, your brain still processing Savanaclaw’s “recruitment tactics,” a pair of arms suddenly wrap around you, lifting you clean off the ground.

“Shrimpy!” Floyd crows, spinning you around like you’re a prize he just won at a carnival.

“FLOYD! Put me down!” you shout, flailing uselessly in his grip.

“Nah, I got orders,” he says, grinning ear to ear as he hauls you off toward the Mostro Lounge.

By the time you’re unceremoniously deposited (read: still stuck in Floyd’s arms like a glorified teddy bear), you’re face-to-face with Azul and Jade, both of whom look way too pleased with themselves.

“Ah, perfect timing!” Azul says, standing up from his chair with his signature business smile. “We’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Have a seat!”

“I would if Floyd let me down,” you deadpan, glaring at the tall eel holding you like a sack of seaweed.

“Nah, you’re comfy,” Floyd chirps, tightening his grip as if daring you to try escaping.

Azul clears his throat, pulling out a scroll of parchment that looks suspiciously like a contract. “Ahem. Now, as I was saying—let’s discuss the many benefits of joining Octavinelle. For starters, we pride ourselves on being a dorm of intellect and resourcefulness. Here, you’ll have access to unmatched networking opportunities, a plethora of unique beverages crafted by Jade himself, and—should you agree—my personal mentorship in matters of… negotiation.”

He flashes you a grin that screams, This is totally not suspicious at all.

Jade slides a glass of something shimmering and iridescent across the table toward you. “I would be delighted to name you our official taste tester. Imagine the prestige of being the first to try all my… experimental creations.”

You eye the drink like it might explode. “Define ‘experimental.’”

Jade smiles serenely. “You’ll find out.”

“Don’t be shy, Shrimpy!” Floyd chimes in, shifting you in his arms so you’re now sitting sideways like some sort of royal guest. “You’d have so much fun here. We’ve got good food, good drinks, and me.”

Azul adjusts his glasses, sliding the contract closer to you. “And, of course, we’ve prepared a special position for you. All you have to do is sign right here, and Octavinelle will officially welcome you as our newest member.”

You glance at the contract, then at the three of them—Azul’s scheming smile, Jade’s unsettling calmness, and Floyd’s unnervingly enthusiastic grin.

“I feel like this is a trap,” you say.

“It’s not a trap,” Floyd says immediately, which makes you even more suspicious.

Azul leans forward, steepling his fingers. “I assure you, everything is perfectly legitimate. Now, shall we seal the deal?”

“Or,” you say, leaning back as far as Floyd’s grip will allow, “I could not.”

Jade hums thoughtfully, handing you another drink. “At least try the beverages before you decide.”

Azul smirks. “I’m sure a sip or two will convince you.”

You glance at the drink, then back at Azul. “Is this bribery?”

“It’s persuasion,” he corrects smoothly.

“Same thing.”

Floyd suddenly squeezes you tight, grinning down at you. “C’mon, Shrimpy. Just say yes already! I’ll carry you everywhere. Betcha Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw didn’t offer that.”

You sigh, resting your head in your hands. This was going to be a long night.

Scarabia

You barely make it out of Octavinelle alive (or at least with your dignity and soul intact) when you’re immediately ambushed again.

“Prefect!” Kalim’s voice rings out, and before you can even process the sound, you’re being yanked into a whirlwind of color, music, and… is that confetti?

You blink as Scarabia's lounge comes into view, transformed into what can only be described as a full-blown festival. Tables are piled high with food, lanterns glow in warm hues, and cheerful music fills the air.

“Surprise!” Kalim grins, throwing his arms wide like he just gifted you the world. “Welcome to Scarabia! We threw a party just for you!”

“A… party?” you repeat, still trying to figure out how you got here so fast.

“Yep!” Kalim grabs your hands, his golden eyes shining with pure, unfiltered excitement. “I thought, ‘What’s the best way to convince you to join us?’ And then I thought, ‘A party! Everyone loves parties!’”

Before you can respond, a plate stacked with delicious-looking food appears in front of you, courtesy of none other than Jamil.

“Eat,” he says simply, pushing the plate closer.

“Oh, uh, thanks?” you mumble, picking up a fork.

Jamil nods, then leans in slightly, his voice low and almost conspiratorial. “This is just a taste of what Scarabia has to offer. Stick around, and I’ll make sure you’re well-fed every day. Properly fed.”

You pause mid-bite, noticing the way he emphasizes the word “properly,” like he knows exactly how many instant noodles you’ve been living off of.

Kalim, meanwhile, is still giving you the most devastating puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen. “You’ll join, right? We’d have so much fun together! And think of all the parties we could throw! Oh, and I can get you anything you want! Name it, and it’s yours!”

You glance between Kalim’s hopeful grin and Jamil’s subtle but persuasive bribes.

Jamil catches your hesitation and sighs, placing yet another dish in front of you. “Look, I’ll even help you stay on top of your work. You’re clearly the type who needs someone dependable around.”

“Hey!” you protest, only for him to raise an eyebrow as if to say, Am I wrong?

“Please?” Kalim chimes in, practically bouncing in place. “It’ll be so much fun! And I really, really want you to join. Scarabia would be perfect for you!”

You groan internally, stuffing another bite of food into your mouth just to avoid answering. Between Kalim’s overwhelming enthusiasm and Jamil’s quiet determination, you’re starting to think Scarabia might actually succeed in breaking your will.

You’re doomed. Aren’t you?

Pomefiore

You stumble out of Scarabia, clutching your overstuffed stomach and wondering how you’ve made it this far without officially losing your sanity. Taking the long way around campus to avoid any more ambushes seems like the best idea—you’ve had enough dorm propaganda for one day.

Or so you thought.

You’re halfway through the forest, breathing a sigh of relief at the quiet, when—

“Bonjour, mon cher trésor!”

You shriek as Rook appears out of thin air. Where did he even come from? Why is there sparkly lighting behind him? Is this even allowed?

“Rook! What—what are you doing here?!”

“Ah, I see you were clever enough to evade the others,” he says, ignoring your question entirely. “But you cannot escape me, the hunter of beauty! Pomefiore awaits, mon ami!”

Before you can protest, he’s scooped you up bridal style and is sprinting through the forest with unnatural speed, his laughter echoing ominously.

“This isn’t fair! You’re cheating!” you yell, flailing helplessly.

“All’s fair in love, war, and dorm recruitment, non?”

You soon find yourself unceremoniously plopped down in the middle of Pomefiore’s lounge. Vil is waiting with his arms crossed and an unreadable expression, though the way his foot taps against the floor suggests he’s less than pleased.

“Honestly,” Vil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Was the theatrics really necessary, Rook?”

“Always,” Rook replies with a wink.

Epel is off to the side, clearly trying not to laugh at your predicament while casually carving an apple.

“Well,” Vil says, straightening his posture and fixing you with a regal gaze. “I’ve heard about this… situation of yours. Joining Pomefiore would be the obvious choice. After all, we are the epitome of elegance and refinement. It would be a privilege for you to stay here, and I might even be able to do something about your… appearance.”

You blink. "What's wrong with my appearance?”

Vil waves a hand dismissively. “Nothing I can’t fix. Consider it a favor.”

Epel, meanwhile, sidles up next to you, whispering conspiratorially “Don’t listen to him. He’s just tryna butter you up. But, uh… you should totally join Pomefiore anyway. Look, I brought you some fresh juice from Harveston. And this apple.”

You glance at the carved apple he’s offering. It’s shaped like a little heart.

“Epel,” Vil scolds, glaring at him. “Stop bribing them. That’s hardly dignified.”

“Well, it’s working, isn’t it?” Epel shoots back, crossing his arms. “I just think we need someone who’ll actually get how hard it is to survive your routines. And they seem cool. So there.”

You feel your brain short-circuiting as Vil and Epel start bickering in front of you. Rook stands off to the side, watching with sparkling eyes like he’s witnessing a masterpiece.

Somehow, you feel like this is still less stressful than Scarabia. But only barely.

Ignihyde

You somehow manage to escape Pomefiore in one piece, though your mind feels like it’s been through a blender. You’re determined to finally make it back to Ramshackle without incident when—

“Prefect!”

You freeze mid-step as Ortho zooms into view, his boosters glowing bright blue. Before you can even blink, he grabs your arm with surprising strength.

“Ignihyde is next!” he announces cheerfully, starting to lift you off the ground.

“Wait, wait!” you shout, flailing. “I can walk! Please, I’ve been carried around like a stolen handbag all day!”

Ortho tilts his head, his LED eyes flickering. “Oh… okay! As long as you promise to come willingly!”

You nod frantically. “I promise! Just no more flying, please.”

Satisfied, Ortho takes your hand and leads you to Ignihyde. The journey is mercifully uneventful, though you can feel your soul leaving your body as you realize what’s waiting for you inside.

Sure enough, Idia is hunched over in the corner of the lounge, a laptop balanced precariously on a stack of game boxes. The moment you enter, the screen lights up with a title slide: “Top 10 Reasons Why You Should Join Ignihyde” in bold, glowing text.

“Oh, you’re here,” Idia mutters, adjusting his hoodie nervously. His hair flickers faintly pink at the tips. “Uh, okay, so—yeah, uh—welcome? Or whatever. Let’s, um, get this over with.”

He clicks to the first slide, which is an overwhelming wall of text filled with bullet points, charts, and what looks like a meme of a cat wearing glasses.

“Reason number one,” Idia starts, stumbling over his words. “Um, we’re quiet? Like, no loud parties or annoying socializing. Uh… unless you count Ortho, but, uh, he’s not that bad. And you can play games as much as you want. Or watch anime. Or—uh—just chill. Yeah.”

Ortho, standing nearby, nods enthusiastically. “Ignihyde is perfect for you! And Brother worked really hard on this presentation!”

You glance at Idia, who’s clearly fighting for his life to make eye contact with you. He clicks to the next slide, which is just a stock photo of a cozy room.

“Reason number two,” he continues. “We, uh, have good Wi-Fi? Like, really good. You could stream in 4K if you wanted to. Not that you’d want to. Or maybe you would? Uh… I dunno. Anyway.”

His hair flickers a deeper pink, and he clicks to the next slide. It’s a crudely edited photo of you and him standing next to each other in front of a glowing Ignihyde logo. You’re not sure whether to be impressed or deeply concerned.

He glances at you, his expression oddly hopeful. “So, uh… what do you think?”

You can feel Ortho practically vibrating next to you, his bright smile threatening to blind you. Meanwhile, Idia is trying (and failing) to look indifferent, but the way his fingers tap anxiously on the laptop betrays him.

“I’ll… think about it,” you say carefully, not having the heart to crush Idia’s dreams outright.

His hair sparks bright pink for a split second before he slams the laptop shut, muttering something about “overheating processors” and “input overload.”

Ortho cheers. “Yay! I knew you’d see how great we are!”

You manage a weak smile, already planning your escape route.

Diasomnia

You’re so close—so, so close—to finally making it back to Ramshackle when the universe decides to remind you that peace is but a fleeting dream.

“Ah, there you are!”

You barely have time to scream before Lilia literally materializes out of thin air, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you into a swirling vortex of green light.

“Wait, NO—”

Too late. You’re already standing in the middle of Diasomnia’s lounge, disoriented and ready to file a restraining order against anyone with teleportation magic.

Malleus looks up from where he’s seated, eyebrows raising slightly. “Child of man? What brings you here?”

“Great news, Malleus!” Lilia chirps, dropping you onto the couch like a sack of potatoes. “They’re choosing a dorm to transfer to, and we couldn’t possibly let them pick anywhere but Diasomnia!”

Malleus freezes, his eyes wide with surprise, before his expression shifts into one of regal determination. He rises from his seat, his imposing height making you feel like a pebble in the presence of a mountain.

“Is this true?” he asks, his voice deep and serious. “You’re choosing a new dorm?”

“Uh, yeah, but—”

“Then it must be Diasomnia.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “Here, you will be protected. No harm shall come to you under my watch. And…” He pauses, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “I have a gargoyle in my room. A fine specimen. You would enjoy its company.”

You blink. “...A gargoyle?”

“Yes,” Malleus says with absolute sincerity, as though that’s the most convincing argument in the world.

Before you can process that, Sebek practically throws himself to the floor in front of you, bowing with the intensity of a knight swearing fealty.

“Human!” he bellows. “You must choose Diasomnia! To live anywhere else would be an insult to the Young Master’s unparalleled grace and power! Surely, you can see this is the only logical choice!”

“Sebek,” Silver mumbles from his spot on the couch, not even bothering to open his eyes. “Maybe let them decide for themselves.”

“But, Silver!” Sebek protests, his voice trembling with the sheer force of his conviction. “The honor! The prestige!”

Meanwhile, Lilia floats into view, holding a plate of… something. “Don’t worry about dinner, dear. I’ve prepared a feast for you! Go on, take a bite.”

You stare at the plate. It looks like it might be alive. “I’m… good, thanks.”

“Nonsense! You need to keep your strength up!” Lilia insists, thrusting the plate closer to your face.

Silver sighs, finally sitting up. “You should just do what feels right,” he says, offering you a calm, reassuring smile. “Don’t let them pressure you.”

You glance between Malleus’s earnest expression, Sebek’s passionate pleas, and Lilia’s… questionable cooking. Your stomach growls, but you’re not sure if it’s hunger or the beginnings of a panic attack.

One thing’s for sure: if you survive this day, you’re going to need therapy.

The sun is setting by the time you finally drag your aching body back to Ramshackle. The dorm looms ahead, creaky and crumbling, but for once, it feels like a safe haven compared to the dorm-hopping marathon you just survived.

As you step inside, you’re greeted by the unmistakable voice of your ever-demanding feline companion. “There you are! What took ya so long? I’ve been waitin’ forever!”

Grim is sprawled on the couch, a can of tuna already half-empty beside him. He squints at you suspiciously. “So? Which dorm are we movin’ to?”

You groan, flopping face-first onto the nearest piece of semi-clean furniture. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“What?!” Grim squawks, leaping onto the armrest beside you. “What do ya mean you haven’t decided? This is important! We gotta pick one where I can get the most tuna, y’know?”

You tilt your head just enough to glare at him. “Oh, sure. Let me just base my entire living situation on your snack preferences.”

Grim puffs up, indignant. “Hey! I’ve been puttin’ up with this dump longer than anyone! I deserve to have a say!”

You sigh, the weight of the day finally catching up to you. Somehow, Grim being his usual self is oddly comforting after everything. No bribes, no PowerPoints, no gargoyle sales pitches—just Grim being Grim.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” you mumble, your voice muffled by the cushion. “I’m too tired to think.”

Grim eyes you for a moment before huffing. “Fine. But don’t take too long, got it? I’m not stickin’ around this dump forever!”

With that, he hops off to raid the kitchen, leaving you alone to sink further into the furniture. You stare at the ceiling, your brain too fried to process anything else.

Tomorrow. You’ll deal with it tomorrow. For now, all you want is to sleep in your creaky, drafty old dorm. At least here, no one’s trying to kidnap you.

Masterlist

[tojisteddy]

i was thinking about

meanie!simon, daddy!kink (the most icky as possible, please, its a need !!) + piss!kink

am i weird ? 😞

cw: 18+ mdni, dead dove, smut, daddy kink (it’s icky), piss!kink, meanie!simon, kinda dd!lg.

a/n: I don’t usually write piss!kink (and I probably won’t in the future) but I will for you baby <33, you’re not weird!! lol this was fun to write.

There are a lot of things in this world that Simon hates.

First being, your shitty apartment. It’s too fucking small (his baby needs space instead of this stupid studio), and he’s hitting his head on something, the hot water only works after five minutes, the neighbors above you are too fuckin loud, and your refrigerator always breaks once a month and the repair man won’t come so who has to get down there, and fix whatever fucking broke the last time?

Simon, of course.

Why you were still living there? Simon doesn’t fucking know. But instead of bein at his place, fuckin you into the mattress like he usually does for your afternoon nap, you’re both in this cramped flat—

Resulting in the second thing he hated: you’re need to hide your moans. It was so bad when you first got together, he had to teach you out of the bad habit, your ex— the son of a bitch— didn’t like you loud and dumb when he fucked you.

Fucking stupid cunt.

But every time you were back in this damned flat, you’d revert. The walls are basically dry wall and you so desperately wanted your neighbors to like you since they’d been nice. Simon could give less of a fuck about what other people think, so he’s holding your wrists as he rams into your tight pussy, your pretty tits moving in perfect motion with every thrust, and you tried to bite your moan but Simons slapping your thigh.

“Let it out or you won’t cum.”

Simon presses into you, thrusting deeper, harsher, the sound of his balls against your sopping cunt— so damn lewd, you can’t help but let out a moan that hits all four of the walls of your apartment beautifully. Easy to correct, Simon praises you, shuddering when you pulse around him, mumbling a ‘good fucking girl’

Third: all those things bundled together, the thing to put the chairs on top to all the ridiculous shit— you looking up at with with those big, pretty, and stupid brown eyes, lashes fluttering, through a moan— “Pa, I-I have to pee.”

He ignored you the first time the words slip out your lips, fucks you right through your first orgasm but youre crawling up the sheets of your bed, “Hold it.”

“I can’t!” You keen, you wither around in the bed, half of Simons cock still sitting in you, your mixed cum dripping onto the sheets.

Simon groans, pulling out fully and throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Slapping your ass harshly, one for every word, “You’re so. God. damn. annoying.”

“You’re god damn annoying.” You retort, slapping at his back. You don’t even realize he’s taken you to the bathroom. Siting you on the toilet and kicking your feet open. You try to squeeze your legs shut but Simon bends down this time, prying your legs open, looking right at your folds, “Go.” 

“Get out Simon.”

“No.”

“I don’t want you to watch!” You whine, shaking your head.

“Can’t always get what we want, can we swee’art?” He breaths through his nose, pressing on your abdomen, unflinching as your scratch at him.

“But Daddy!—“

Simon snatches your jaw in his hands tight, tilting your head down to look at him, “fuckin go.”

You feel the damn break within your abdomen, pee trickling down into the toilet. Your eyes well up with tears full of embarrassment. Incoherent babbles leaving you.

“See, wasn’t that hard, was it?” He has the damned smirk on his face. Simon chuckles, wiping you down with toilet paper, flushing and standing you up so you can both wash your hands. You’re a sobbing mess, stomping your feet and pouting while he’s still right behind you.

“You’re g-gross.”

“Sure am.”

“Daddy you shouldn’t— hicc- daddy’s shouldn’t d-do that.”

“What’d I say about comparing me to other men?”

Simon loved to see you in such a belligerent state, tears glistening those pretty cheeks, his sweet baby. He would be the only one who’d ever see you like this.

He’s plops you back on the bed, grabbing one of your stuffed animals and putting it in your arms. You’re a clutch onto it in both arms, bottom lip sticking out in a pout. gorgeous thing.

“Gonna fuck you nice ‘nd good, then you’re gonna shut up and sleep, alright?”

You sniff, “Yes, sir.”

most recent masterlist more meanie!simon

[pucksandpower]

Fashionably Challenged

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: you and Max may not exactly be the paddock’s most stylish couple, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

You wake up to the sound of Max rummaging through the closet of your shared hotel suite. Rolling over, you see him laying out two matching outfits — the Red Bull Racing team polos, skinny jeans, and sneakers you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

One set for him, one set for you.

“Morning, liefje,” he says, catching your gaze. “I have our outfits for the day ready to go.”

You smile sleepily. “Thanks, babe. You know me too well.”

Max grins as he walks over and climbs back into bed, throwing an arm around you. “Of course I do. Can’t have my girlfriend showing up to races looking anything less than perfect.”

You laugh and playfully shove him. “Oh shut up. You know I’d show up in a potato sack if I could.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he says with mock seriousness. “I would never let you embarrass me like that.”

“Embarrass you?” You scoff. “Please, like you even notice what I’m wearing half the time. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to fashion.”

Max opens his mouth to protest but then shuts it, shrugging in admission. “Okay, fair point. But that’s why I always get you the same thing I’m wearing. So there’s no way we can mess it up.”

You consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We make a pretty fashionably challenged couple.”

“The most fashionably challenged,” he agrees with a laugh. He pauses, gaze growing serious. “But I like it that way. I like that we match.”

Warmth blooms in your chest. “Me too.”

The morning passes quickly as you get ready for the race. True to form, you both pull on the matching outfits without a second thought. As you’re walking out to the car, Max stops you.

“Wait,” he says, taking your hand and turning you to face him. He looks you up and down appraisingly. “You look perfect, just like always.”

You can’t help but beam at the compliment. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

He grins. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well I do,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, schatje,” Max murmurs against your lips. “Now let’s go kick some ass today.”

The race goes well, Max taking the checkered flag to the roar of the crowds. As you’re waiting to congratulate him, a podcaster approaches you with a microphone.

“Hi there,” she says brightly. “I’m Lottie from The Racing Line. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple quick questions?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you’re a bit caught off guard.

“Great! So first off, you and Max always seem to be wearing matching outfits to the races. Is that something you two purposely coordinate as a cute couple thing?”

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. “Oh no, not at all actually. The truth is neither of us have much fashion sense at all. So Max just gets me the female version of whatever he’s wearing to make it easy.”

The podcaster looks disappointed. “Oh, I see. So it’s not some adorable couple tradition then?”

“Well, I mean, I guess in a way it kind of is?” You say quickly, feeling guilty. “Neither of us are really into fashion, so we end up matching by default anyway. I think it’s sweet that we always end up coordinating without even trying because we’re just so in sync.”

She perks up at that. “Aww, okay, I can see that! So even though it’s not on purpose, you’ve made your own cute little tradition out of it just by being so aligned. That’s really romantic.”

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well thank you so much for your time,” she shakes your hand. “And congratulations to Max on another win!”

“Thank you,” you reply as she walks away.

A few minutes later Max emerges, helmet under his arm and face lit up in that way you love. You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Congratulations baby, you were amazing out there as always.”

“Thank you, schatje,” he says, squeezing you close. He pauses, smile turning teasing. “Did you enjoy chatting with that podcaster earlier?”

You pull back, eyes narrowing. “You saw that, did you?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. I always notice you.”

“Well then you also saw me have to completely backtrack and come up with some sappy story for why we match when she thought it was a cutesy couple thing,” you say dryly.

Max shrugs. “It kind of is though, isn’t it? Maybe not on purpose, but it’s become our thing.”

“I guess you’re right,” you admit. “I told her it was romantic how in sync we are, always coordinating outfits without even trying.”

“Hmm, I like that,” he says, grinning. “We really are pretty in sync, aren’t we? Two fashionably hopeless peas in a pod.”

You laugh. “That we are.” You look at him fondly. “But I love our way better than being one of those obnoxiously coordinated couples.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “Though I will admit ...” His gaze grows more serious. “Part of the reason I like matching is because it makes me happy to walk around wearing the same thing as you. Like we’re a unit, you know?”

Your heart skips a beat at the soft vulnerability in his voice. “Max Verstappen, you big old romantic,” you tease gently.

He shrugs but you can see the pleased look in his eyes. Sudden understanding washes over you.

“Wait a minute … is that why you got me the same outfit the first time? Not just because you thought it would be easier, but because you wanted us to match?”

Max stays silent for a moment before breaking into a sheepish grin. “You caught me.”

“Oh my god!” You shove his shoulder playfully. “You big sap!”

“What can I say? I like having my girl on my arm looking like the power couple we are,” Max says, pulling you close again. “Fashionably challenged or not.”

“If only everyone out there making you out to be the villain could see the cuddly teddy bear you really are. I absolutely love it,” you murmur, stretching up to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips.

As you break apart, Max squeezes your hand. “Come on, let’s go celebrate. In new matching outfits, of course.”

You pretend to roll your eyes exaggeratingly but allow him to lead you towards the exit, your hands intertwined. You truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

You and Max are curled up on the couch in your hotel room, his arm draped around you as you lean into his side. It’s a rare quiet moment between races and you’re savoring the feeling of Max’s fingers gently carding through your hair.

“Hey Max?” You say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the football match on the TV.

“I got an interesting offer today.”

That piques his interest and he turns his head to look at you. “Oh yeah? What kind of offer?”

You take a deep breath before answering. “A sponsorship deal, actually. From Oscar de la Renta.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s … really great, liefje. I’m so happy for you.”

But something in his tone makes you frown slightly. “Are you though? You don’t sound that excited.”

He gives you a half smile. “No, no, I am! That’s a huge opportunity for your career and image. Having that kind of sponsorship deal is amazing.”

“But?” You prod knowingly.

Max lets out a breath, smile fading. “But I guess part of me is a little disappointed and maybe … worried?”

“About what?”

“Well,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I like being the one who picks out your outfits for the races. Our little unintentional matching tradition has kind of become my thing, you know? I’m worried if you get sponsored by some big designer brand you won’t wear the outfits I pick out anymore. That we won’t match.”

His tone is carefully casual but you can hear the undercurrent of vulnerability. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You really like our matching outfits that much?”

He averts his eyes but nods. “Yeah. I know it sounds silly, but I just … I like how in sync we are. How happy it makes me feel when we show up to the races looking like a real team. Like we’re truly partners in everything. I don’t want to lose that.”

The softness in his voice breaks your heart a little. You take his hand and give it a squeeze.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” you tell him gently. “Because I never would have accepted that offer anyway.”

Max blinks in surprise. “You wouldn’t?”

You shake your head. “Not a chance. First of all, they were pressuring me to only wear very high-end stuff, none of which really feels like my personal style. But more importantly ...” You lean in closer, maintaining eye contact. “They don’t have a men’s collection. So they couldn’t sponsor you too.”

Realization lights up his gaze. “Oh ...” he says softly.

You nod. “Exactly. I told them thanks but no thanks. Because no designer wardrobe is worth giving up what we have.”

Max looks stunned. “You … you turned them down? Just to keep matching with me?”

“Of course I did,” you say affectionately, poking his chest. “I would never give that up. How could I say yes to some fancy sponsorship that meant not having my fashionably challenged other half by my side, both looking like total goofballs in the one outfit the world thinks makes up the entirety of our closet?”

A slow smile spreads across his face and he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So much.”

You relax into his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of affection. “I love you too,” you whisper. You pull back slightly to look at him. “Did you really think I’d give up matching with you over that?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, looking a little sheepish. “I guess a small part of me was worried maybe you’d be tempted by the glamor and exposure of being a designer brand ambassador.”

“You know me better than that,” you affirm. “Our matching looks are too special to me. I adore everything about our little tradition — the fact that it started because neither of us cares about fashion, to you always picking out my outfits, and how happy it makes both of us to show up to races coordinating with each other.”

You take Max’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t you see, my love? It’s not really about the clothes at all, it’s about us. About how perfectly aligned we are in this little part of our lives. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

Max’s eyes have gone suspiciously bright, his free hand reaching up to cradle your face. “But liefje … you could have had any designer clothing you wanted.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You turned that down … for me?”

Unable to find the words, you just nod, blinking back your own tears.

“I can’t believe it,” Max breathes out shakily. “You never cease to amaze me.”

You offer him a watery smile. “Well believe it, my love. Because there’s nothing in the world more precious to me than you and our bond. I wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.”

A single tear escapes to trail down Max’s cheek and you quickly brush it away with your thumb. Seeming at a loss for words, he pulls you into a fierce hug, tucking your head under his chin as you settle into his embrace.

“I love you,” he finally whispers into your hair. “So damn much.”

“I love you too.” You pepper kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his lips, capturing them in a deep, slow kiss that tries to convey every unspoken word of devotion and adoration.

When you finally break apart, Max gazes at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“God, you really are perfect,” he murmurs, running a hand reverently through your hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“No,” you shake your head with a soft smile. “I’m the lucky one. To have someone who loves me so fiercely, someone I love just as much in return.”

Max lets out a watery chuckle. “I think we’re both the lucky ones then.”

You settle back against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. For a while neither of you speaks, lost in your own thoughts as you simply bask in each other’s presence. You let your eyes drift shut as Max’s fingers resume their gentle motions through your hair.

Eventually you break the silence.

“You know we’re going to have to get even cuter matching outfits now to make up for it,” you murmur teasingly.

Max’s chest rumbles with laughter against your cheek. “Deal. Anything you want, schatje. I’ll make sure we’re the most adorable fashionably challenged couple at every single race from now on.”

You smile at the warmth and conviction in his voice. “No one could ever call us uncoordinated.”

“Never,” Max affirms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’re perfectly matched in every way that matters.”

You sigh contentedly as you snuggle further into his embrace. In that moment, you know he’s absolutely right. You couldn’t imagine a better match than your Max.

[harrywavycurly]

Worth the Fight: It’s Just Cake

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language, small-ish argument, pregnancy symptoms, one moment of slight jealousy and one tiny injury that sends Harry spiraling.

A/N: I spent a sold 36 hours debating on the outcome of this update and this just seemed to make the most sense so enjoy and sorry for any tears, hopefully they are happy ones?👀✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r @cumuluscranium @donutsandpalmtrees

Summary: You see Harry three days in a row and you get a cake delivered ✨

“This one’s soft.” Harry just nods as he places a hand in on his hip while you give the pillow in front of you a good squeeze. “And very squishy.” You add and Harry doesn’t bother even responding because you’ve said the exact same thing about all the pregnancy pillows you’ve touched during the fifteen minutes the two of you have been in the store. So instead he just leans his back against the shelf and runs his hand through his hair while you move on to the next pillow that he’s sure will also be soft and squishy.

You look at the pillow in front of you and let out a sigh because you don’t really want one and you don’t think you need one right now but Harry swears your lack of support on your back and bump is why you’ve been having issues sleeping. Resulting in the two of you standing on the aisle that has all the pillows that help with sleep and breastfeeding in the boutique down the street from your work on your day off, the same one he saw you and Ethan in a few weeks ago. But instead of offering you his opinion on which pillow to get he’s been oddly quiet, keeping a safe distance from you and you wonder if he’s the one having issues sleeping due to his late nights with the girl Ethan told you he was seen with just last week.

“I read that one’s good.” You turn your head at the sound of his voice, it’s quiet and lower than normal as he points to the pillow currently in your hand. “Gives you back and belly support and it’s not massive like the others are and you already said it’s soft-”

“And squishy.”

“Yeah. So I say give that one a try and see how you like it? And if you hate it we return it and get another one.” He offers before he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time.

You just look back at the cream colored pillow in your hand and give it one more squeeze before deciding it’ll do and you’ll give it a try. When go to pull the pillow off the shelf you don’t even give it one tug before Harry’s ring clad hands are grabbing it for you and pulling it off the shelf in one quick movement. You can’t help but notice how effortlessly he tosses it into the cart you have next to you and you have to remind yourself it’s just a pillow not a heavy sack of potatoes when a small blush begins creeping onto your cheeks. You want to smack a hand over your face when you catch yourself staring at his arms that are being shown off by his tank top, something you’re extremely used to seeing him in since he normally stops by your apartment in the mornings after a run of before he’s due at the gym. But for some reason you feel like his black tank top and questionably short maroon running shorts are a bit more distracting today than usual.

“Did you hear me?” You jump slightly as Harry’s voice snaps you out of your daze making your eyes instantly connect with his instead of where they were just fixated on the muscles in his arm flexing as he grips the handle of the cart so he can push it for you.

“Sorry what-what did you say?” Harry looks at you with concern etched on his face as he gives you a quick once over. Your cheeks are red and your eyes have this glazed over appearance to them and you have a hand clutching at the pendant at the end of the chain you wear everyday while the other one is resting on your bump.

“Are you feeling okay?” He questions with a furrow in his brows as he notices the way you swallow thickly while briefly letting your eyes dart to his hand that’s wrapped around the handle of the cart.

“Uhm yes I’m totally fine why do you ask?” You ask as you do your best to appear as normal as possible, running a hand through your hair after you clear your throat and blink a few times before meeting his eyes once more so you can offer him a small smile. Acting as if he didn’t just catch you staring at his hand that has his signature initial rings snuggly tucked up against the knuckles of his pinky and ring finger.

“You just look a bit out of sorts that’s all.” He says making you let out a very forced laugh as you give him a shrug.

“I could say the same thing about you.” Harry raises a brow as you motion to his outfit causing him to look down to check himself out but when he doesn’t see anything out of place he looks back over at you just to find you’ve turned away from him and have begun walking down the aisle a few steps ahead of him.

“You’re sort of worrying-”

“I’m fine Harry really just got a bit of a hot flash that’s all.”

“A hot flash?” He doesn’t remember you telling him about hot flashes before so he feels a little confused as he pushes the cart a safe distance behind you so he doesn’t accidentally hit your ankles when you suddenly stop to look at something.

“Yeah a hot flash. I’ve had a few randomly but-oh look at these.” You try your best to distract him from your flustered state with a pair of tiny newborn sized socks. You grab them off the shelf and hold them in your hand as you turn to face him. “Look how small they are.” You mumble as you look down at them and run your thumb over the soft material.

“Do they need socks right out of the womb?” Harry asks as out of pure curiosity since he’s only seen babies in socks when they out of the house or in posed photos on people’s social media accounts.

“I think so because it’s nice and warm in here.” You tell him as you place a hand on your bump while the other holds the tiny socks out to him so he can get a better look at them. “So you want to try to make them all warm and cozy once they are out.” Harry just nods as he looks at the tiny pair of socks that fit in the palm of his hand and when you take a glance at him you can’t help but smile as he takes a moment to try to imagine one of the twins being big enough to wear the socks while also being tiny enough to fit both their feet in his hand.

“How can something be so small but also big at the same time?” It’s a thought he doesn’t mean to voice out loud but then again he doesn’t mind letting you hear his inner thoughts because you just take a step towards him so you can look at his hand that looks even larger than it normally does as it easily fits both socks in it.

“Considering right now they are only the size of bananas everything kinda seems big.” You begin to explain while Harry just stares at the socks. “But then when they actually get to wear the socks their feet will look so tiny in them.”

“Bananas? So you’re about-”

“Twenty weeks.”

“Which means we can-”

“Yup.” You finish for him since you already know what he’s going to ask. Harry stares at you as your hands fall to your bump while you rub your lips together as the two of you silently take a moment to sit with the knowledge that at your appointment with Dr. Andrews tomorrow you’ll be able to find out the genders of the babies you’re carrying.

“So did you-”

“Are you seeing someone?” Harry feels his body go stiff at your question that you all but shout at him as you begin to rub your bump, something you tend to do when trying to calm yourself down. You watch as the pair of socks fall out of Harry’s hand as he blinks at you a few times while opening and shutting his mouth as if he doesn’t know what to say and his mind and body are at odds with one another making him look like he’s struggling to make sense of what’s happening around him.

“I uhm don’t-what what exactly do you-uh I’m not no-no no I’m uhm not see-seeing anyone.” The way he fumbles through his answer makes you raise an eyebrow at him while he quickly bends down to pick up the dropped pair of socks so he can just toss them into the cart and worry about if you actually wanted to buy them later at the checkout since he’ll already have to argue with you about letting him pay for everything anyway.

“So the girl you were seen with in the green dress isn’t anyone?” You have no clue why you’re asking him these questions in the middle of a baby boutique but you’ve spent the past few nights wondering about it so you figure you might as well get it over with and see what he has to say for himself.

You continue to rub soothing circles over your bump as Harry stands there trying to figure out who exactly you’re referring to because his mind has all of a sudden become void of anyone he’s hung out with recently that wasn’t you or his mother. But when for the life of him he can’t recall anyone wearing a green dress he just lifts a shoulder up in a casual shrug and shakes his head.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about?” You let out a sigh as you roll your eyes, not at all shocked his memory is messing with him because that seems to happen anytime he meets a girl and has a decent time with them on a night out.

“Figures you can’t remember the girl you walked out of a club with the night you told me you had plans with your mom and that’s why you couldn’t come help me hang the curtains in the nursery.” Harry grips the handle of the cart with both hands as if it’s the only thing capable of keeping him steady as he’s hit the with memory of the night you’re referring to. “Must’ve been quite a night then.” It’s the casual tone of your voice that has Harry worried because it doesn’t at all match the look you’re giving him.

You’re eyes are slightly narrowed in a glare but there’s something hidden behind the glare that he can’t quite put a finger on, but he has a feeling it’s something along the lines of hurt or jealousy but he doesn’t see why’d you be jealous so he leans more towards you being hurt over the fact you think he lied to you.

“I did have plans with my mom we had dinner together.” He explains as you look away from him and towards the pregnancy pillow sitting in the cart. “And that girl she’s just a friend who needed a ride home-”

“And she couldn’t call an uber? She had to call you?” You know you sound like an untrusting girlfriend but you just blame your hormones making you feel as if he’s still keeping something from you.

“I was just trying to be a good friend. She doesn’t know a lot of people here she’s from New York and-”

“It honestly doesn’t matter I just don’t like feeling like I’ve been lied to that’s all.” You state deciding you don’t really want to hear anything else about the girl in the green dress. Harry gives you a small nod when you finally look back up at him, he doesn’t know why the idea of you thinking he lied to you makes his heart drop a bit.

“I understand and I’m sorry.” He doesn’t really know what he’s apologizing for but it just seems like something he needs to do in the moment, and honestly it’s something he’s becoming an expert at doing considering how many times he’s said those exact words since meeting you. “I hope you know I’d never lie to you. I may be an asshole but I’m not a liar.” You playfully roll your eyes as you look at him with a quirked brow.

“You don’t lie? Harry you told me I looked good in black and red polka dots last week.”

“And you did? You looked like a lady bug with your black leggings and polka dotted cardigan.”

“I looked like a bug? Bugs aren’t cute.”

“Lady bugs are cute.” You try to ignore the way your heart flutters at his roundabout way of calling you cute so you just let out a chuckle before turning around and heading down the aisle. “Besides there’s a clear difference between lying and just telling you something so you don’t get your feelings hurt.”

“So you’re saying I didn’t look good you just didn’t want to make me upset?” Harry wishes Niall was here to give him a smack upside the head as you pause and look at him over your shoulder. He rushes to shake his head no and push the cart further down the aisle towards where you’re standing near the end of it.

“No of course you looked cute-I mean good you looked good.” You place a hand over your mouth to stop your laugh from being heard throughout the store while Harry just glares at you as he realizes the trap he just walked into. “You’re in a mood today Cranky. Let’s hurry up and get this pillow so you can go take a nap.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help myself but a nap isn’t going to fix it but you know what might?” Harry doesn’t even have to think before he’s answering your question.

“A green juice with no carrots and extra apples?” The smile you give him makes his insides feel all warm and he has to stop himself from laughing at how you’re already licking your lips at the thought of your current favorite juice recipe.

“Exactly.”

“Can I ask who uh told you about me being out the other night?” He asks as you turn to go down another aisle, he has a strong feeling he knows who gave you the information but he just wants to hear it from your lips.

“Ethan.” Your voice sounds like you’re distracted and when Harry looks up he sees why, you’re standing there wrapped up in a fuzzy robe that’s about two sizes too big for you with a grin on your face as you let out a sigh of content. “I’d be able to snuggle both of them at the same time in this.” Harry watches in amusement as you grab two stuffed animals off the shelf in front of you next to the hanging robes and act out what it would be like holding two babies at the same time cuddled in the robe.

“You look ridiculous.”

“Oh you’re just mad I don’t want to snuggle you in this thing.” You snap making Harry have to look away when your eyes meet his, his cheeks and the back of his neck getting hot as he struggles to keep a stupid smile off his face.

“Didn’t you just have a hot flash? Should you even be wearing that right now?” He asks with a hint of worry in his voice making you roll your eyes as you put the stuffed animals in the cart so you can shrug off the fuzzy robe.

“Next time someone tells me how fun you are I’m going to tell them to have a baby or two with you and they’ll really see just how fun you can be.”

“Forgive me for caring about your wellbeing.”

“I don’t think I can because I really liked that robe.” Your eyes are a little big and your bottom lip is poked out a bit as your head tilts to the side giving the robe one last look as you hang it back up. Harry just lets out an annoyed sigh as you make your way down the aisle, an obvious stomp in your steps making him roll his eyes at your dramatics.

“Yeah you need a nap.” Is all he says as he grabs the hanger with the robe on it and tosses it in the cart on his way down the aisle where you’ve stopped to look at a set of onesies.

You can feel the anticipation building in the room as you and Harry stare at the white envelope sitting on your kitchen table. Having picked you up for your appointment before work he also took it upon himself to walk you back to your apartment where you informed him Dr. Andrews had given you the results of the gender scan you had done during the appointment since at the time neither of you felt ready to know quite yet or more so you just didn’t feel like crying in front of your doctor, again. But suddenly the idea of knowing if you’re carrying two boys or two girls or maybe one of each feels like something you desperately need and want to know so you asked Harry to stay a bit before running off to do whatever it is he does during the day.

“Will you open it?” You ask as you still stare at the envelope with the name Styles written on it while rubbing your hands over the soft material of the t shirt that’s currently covering your bump.

“Me?”

“No Harry the ghost standing behind you.”

“But this is a big deal I’m-I’m not properly dressed for-”

“Properly dressed? Harry you’re not opening the envelope that tells someone they just won a Grammy.”

“Well yeah this is way more important.” He states as he runs a hand through his hair before he turns his attention to you and he almost jumps back a bit when he sees how intensely you’re already staring at him. You don’t give him time to ask if you’re okay before you’re turning and heading into your kitchen for your water bottle you accidentally left on the counter due to rushing down to meet Harry in the parking lot so he wouldn’t be able to tell you that you were going to make the two of you late for your appointment when he helped you get into his passenger seat.

“You’ve done gender reveals before so just act like this is one of the times a fan asked you to read it on stage or something.” Harry rolls his eyes as his hands land on his hips while turning to look at you as you take a sip of water.

“This is different than opening a fan’s envelope this one is for my- sorry our babies so it’s a bit more intense.” You let out a sigh as you place your water bottle back on the counter and if Harry wasn’t on the verge of an anxiety attack he’d probably take a moment to appreciate how adorable you look when you’re throwing a tiny fit about not getting your way.

It’s something he’s witnessed a few times during his morning juice visits, the long exasperated sighs that come with a hand on the hip and a glare to whatever view of his head you have at the time. But what really gets him is when you sometimes rub your bump and lean down so you can whisper to it things about how he’s being a big meanie or something equally as silly and untrue. He imagines this is something you’ve always done, throw tiny fits when things aren’t going your way or you feel out of control and he can only assume your pregnancy hormones are just exasperating those emotions making you have at least one tiny tantrum a day.

“Would you open it if you weren’t in jeans and a t shirt?” Harry’s glare answers your question. “I mean you’re the one who said you aren’t properly dressed so I’m just asking if you’d open it dressed in a Gucci suit or is it just you don’t want to open it?”

“I mean of course I want to open it but I’m-I’m nervous. And I don’t even know why? It’s just a bloody envelope.” He mumbles and you get it, you understand how he’s feeling because it’s exactly why you can’t bring yourself to open it.

“Maybe someone else should open it for us?” You suggest making Harry rub his lips together as his eyes dart back to the envelope that’s now just mocking him as it sits there unbothered and unopened on your table. “Oh what about your mom? She could open it for us!” Harry looks over at you as you take a few steps so you’re back to standing next to him, your eyes glued on the envelope.

“You’d be okay with her knowing before us?” He feels the corners of his mouth pull up into a smile when you just shrug and nod your head.

“Of course and she’ll probably figure out a way to tell us that’s super cute and not just some words stuffed inside an envelope.” He can’t argue with you about that since he knows that exactly what his mother will do. He watches you reach over and grab the envelope and hold it out for him. “So just give it to her and let her do the rest. Only if she wants to though don’t make her feel forced to do this Harry or I’ll be very upset.” Your voice lets him know you’re not kidding about not forcing his mom into anything and he just has to laugh at you trying to be threatening while twenty weeks pregnant.

“Trust me she’ll be thrilled to be the one to tell us.” He informs you making you feel a little better about the whole thing once he gently takes the envelope from you so he can carefully place it in his back pocket. “Do you need anything before I go?” You just shake your head with a smile before he begins to turn and head towards your front door.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Harry pauses as he reaches your front door and slowly turns around and raises a brow while looking down at the floor as he tries to think of his plans for tomorrow.

“I can come over if you need me-”

“You still haven’t hung up the curtains in the their nursery.”

“Oh shit that’s right.” He feels his face get hot as he realizes how long it’s been since he told you he’d do that for you. “Then yeah I’ll uhm see you tomorrow.” You give him a smile as he turns back towards the door so he can reach for the doorknob.

“Have a good day.” You half shout over your shoulder as you turn to head down the hallway to your room so you can start getting ready for work. Harry quickly lets go of the doorknob and lets out a sigh as he looks over his shoulder, of course you forgot he can’t lock the door when he leaves because he doesn’t have a key.

“You have to come-” He stops talking when he hears you muttering what sounds like some sort of curse word from the hallway making him chuckle and shake his head as he waits for you to reappear.

“Lock the door.” You finish for him with a groan as you walk back into the living room towards the front door where Harry is standing with a playful smirk on his face. “Sorry one day I’ll remember.” You reassure him but it doesn’t do much as he just rolls his eyes before opening your door and stepping out into the hallway.

“Have a good day at work and let me know how the pillow works tonight because if you still hate it we can return it tomorrow.” You just nod as Harry stands in your hallway just outside your door, the place you thought he’d be staying the whole duration of your pregnancy but to your surprise, his knowledge of how to make green juice and actively trying to do better has earned him access to the inside of your apartment.

“Have a good day Harry.” You say with a smile that he returns before he watches you close your door, waiting a few moments to make sure he hears the locking sound before he turns to head towards the elevator.

“Nice to see you’ve been promoted from hallway dad to inside the apartment dad.” Harry instantly feels a strong bubbling of annoyance in the pit of his chest as Ethan steps out of his front door just as Harry walks by.

“What’s your problem?” Harry asks as he stops heading towards the end of the hall and turns around so he can face your neighbor who also happens to be one of your bestfriends.

“What’s my problem? I think the real question is what’s your problem Harry?”

“I don’t have one but you seem to have this weird thing with me that makes you unable to stop yourself from being an asshole.”

“I mean you’d know all about being an asshole wouldn’t you?” Harry wants to wipe the smug looking smirk off his face but he knows that wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do because you’d hear it and come out and be upset and he also is very aware of who he is and can only image the issues he’d face if the press found out he hit someone in a random apartment complex’s hallway. So instead Harry goes for the jugular in a different way, one he knows will pack more of a punch than if he used his fists.

“You know Ethan for someone who claims to be such a good friend to her,” Harry motions towards your front door making Ethan quirk a brow at him as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You sure did cause some damage with the information you chose to share with her about me being seen with someone last week.” Ethan’s jaw clenches as he takes a step forward, his eyes set in a harsh glare aimed directly at Harry.

“You wanna know why I told her about you and the tacky green dress girl?” Harry ignores the comment about his friend’s dress and just shrugs as Ethan takes another step towards him, his hands now at his sides and his eyes still set in a glare. “Because she shouldn’t have to find out that sort of thing from a magazine cover or someone texting her the photos. I wanted her to find out from someone who cares about her who would be there to help her deal with the emotions that the knowledge of you going out and living your pretty boy pop star life while she feels unable to go out and do things because she’s pregnant would stir up.” Ethan’s voice is harsh as he stands right in front of Harry, staring right into his eyes.

“And guess what the only question is that she asked me after she told me some bullshit about how you’re allowed to be seen with whoever you want because you’re single.” Harry swallows as Ethan rolls his eyes when he talks about the excuse you gave him prior to asking him about the girl Harry was seen with.

“What did she ask you?” He has a feeling whatever Ethan is about to tell him is going to make him upset he just isn’t sure which type, anger or sadness.

“Was she pretty.” The harshness of Ethan’s voice is gone and Harry swears he almost sounds as if he’s holding back his emotions as he lets out a dark chuckle and shakes his head. “She wanted to know if the fucking girl you were seen with was pretty. What does that tell you Harry? Huh? What does that mean to you?”

“I don’t-I don’t know what it means.” There’s a thousand thoughts swirling around Harry’s head as Ethan looks at the floor and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down before looking at Harry again.

“Let me fill you in on something pretty boy.” Ethan reaches over and places a hand on top of Harry’s shoulder only making him slightly nervous. “Just because you can’t remember the night you met doesn’t mean she can’t. She remembers meeting someone she thought liked her enough to give her his number and a promise of a call the next day. She remembers that same person telling her how much he liked her and couldn’t wait to see her again. And she also remembers the feeling of being ghosted by that same fucking guy but as fate would have it she has to end up being the one to text him to tell him she’s pregnant and here’s the real kick in the ass Harry you’re going to love this part.” Harry knows for a fact he isn’t going to like the next part because he knows what’s coming, he knows exactly what Ethan is going to say and he feels his heart drop to his feet.

“She remembers the feeling of him telling her he doesn’t remember meeting her. The guy she thought was so amazing and everything she’s looking for in someone she’d like to be with doesn’t fucking remember meeting her. So now she’s stuck feeling all these weird emotions because she really liked you Harry like really liked you and now you’re her baby daddy who sometimes is an asshole and is sometimes a nice guy that just doesn’t remember anything about her.” Ethan ends his rant with a not so soft pat to Harry’s shoulder before he takes a step to the side so he can go around Harry and head to the elevator.

“So next time you think I’m the asshole who doesn’t care about her remember I’m the one who’s been here for her since she came home drunk and on cloud nine the night you two met.” He adds from a few steps behind Harry, who can’t seem to get his feet to work as he stays standing in the exact same spot. Ethan takes his silence as a sign that maybe Harry is doing some deep thinking into how he hasn’t really thought about how you must feel dealing with him during all of this, and that’s just what Ethan wants, he wants Harry to realize how deeply effected you are by not only his words but his actions as well.

“Fuck.” Harry says with a groan as he runs both hands through his hair giving it a slight tug as he closes his eyes and does his best to get ahold of himself. When he opens his eyes he runs a hand over his face and turns to head towards the stairwell, deciding he doesn’t want to risk having to share an extremely awkward elevator ride with Ethan down to the lobby.

The only thing keeping Harry together is the envelope securely tucked into his back pocket and the fact he’s on his way to see his mom who although she can be meddlesome always has an open ear to listen to his problems and offer whatever advice she can. And in this case he knows what she’s going to say because it’s what she’s been saying to him since she found out he’s been going to your house every other day, he likes you and needs to just acknowledge it and either act upon it or move on. But for some reason he just never thinks he’s ready for either option so Harry just keeps doing what he’s doing, helping you with whatever you’ll allow him to and visiting you in the mornings so he can make your juice and get caught up on how you’re feeling. As he walks towards his car once he makes it down to the lobby and into the parking lot something inside of him switches letting him know he can’t keep going on like this, he needs to sit and think about his feelings towards you because clearly he’s hurting you and that’s the last thing he wants to do since he’s promised himself he’s done being an asshole.

“That’s not level.”

“What? Yes it is I have a level in my hand and it’s saying it’s perfect.”

“Then the level is lying to you because that rod is very much not level.”

“It’s lying to me? Really?” You cross your arms over your chest as you stand next to one of the cribs while Harry takes a few steps back so he can look at the curtain rod he just finished hanging above the window. He furrows his brows as he bites down on his bottom lip while his hands rest on his hips as he realizes the rod is hanging down a bit lower on the left side. “It’s not level.” He states followed by an annoyed sigh as he steps up on the step stool so he can undo the left side.

“Tell me when it’s level then will you?” He asks over his shoulder making you just nod as you take a small step backwards. He raises the rod up a tiny bit and when you don’t say anything he raises it up just a bit more causing you to squint your eyes as you try your hardest to tell if it’s level or not.

“I think that’s good.”

“You think?”

“It’s perfect. Totally level.” You correct yourself making him let out a huff before he secures the rod to the wall. Harry is stepping down off the step stool when he hears it, the faint sound of you saying “ouch” followed by a painful type of hissing noise.

Before you can even register what’s happening you feel Harry’s hands on you, turning you around from where you’re leaning over one of the cribs to grab the curtains for him to place on the rod he just put up. His hands are soft but his hold on your arms is firm but not too firm that you feel like he’s squeezing you as his wide panic stricken eyes quickly roam all over your face before he steps back only enough so he can look for any obvious source of pain or an injury of any kind. Once you realize what’s happening you decide to end his search and hold out your hand that has a few very small cuts on the knuckles of your index and middle finger where they somehow got caught between the crib and the zipper of your zip up hoodie when bending over resulting in the zipper scratching up your knuckles the tiniest bit.

“Does this happen a lot?” You can tell by his voice that Harry is panicking as he takes your hand in both of his so he can examine the damage done to your knuckles.

“Does what happen a lot?”

“Getting hurt on things like cribs and zippers?” He asks with furrowed brows as he ever so gently runs a thumb over your knuckles, just above the scrapes so he can see if they need anything other than just a bandaid.

“I mean I’m a little clumsy sometimes but no-”

“Clumsy? As in you fall a lot and run into things?”

“First off that’s not the definition of clumsy it actually means awkward in movement or in handling things or to do something without skill or elegance and difficult to handle.” Harry has to fight the urge to roll his eyes but instead he just focuses on how small your hand looks in his while he looks at the cuts on your knuckles that are already starting to form little bruises around them. “So when I tell you I’m clumsy it doesn’t mean I fall a lot it means I drop things every now and then.” You explain with a huff as you look down at your hand that Harry is examining as if it’s a priceless jewel that’s not to be handled with anything other than feather light touches and the occasional gentle rub of his thumb.

“So you don’t fall a lot then?” He asks while dropping one of his hands from yours so he can turn around and lead you out of the nursery. You don’t bother trying to fight him so you let out a sigh as you just let him lead you by the hand out of the room and down the hallway.

“Not really no.” You answer once the two of you are in the kitchen. Harry just nods as he pulls out a chair for you to sit in at the kitchen table, to his surprise you sit down without a word or a huff and he silently thanks you for letting him fuss over you with a small smile before he turns to head towards your small medicine cabinet you have next to your fridge.

“But what if you do fall one day and no one is here?”

“Uhm then I just get up and go on with my day? What kind of fall are-”

“I don’t like you being here alone when something could happen at anytime and I’m fifteen-twenty minutes away.” You feel your eyes go wide as Harry finally finds the box of Disney themed bandaids, pulling out one with Belle on it and finding it very fitting since you have a deep love of books as well.

“Harry I’ve lived alone for a very long time and been just fine.”

“Okay well that was before-”

“Before what?”

“You got pregnant with my twins.” His words make you sit back in the chair and blink a few times as he runs the hand that’s not holding your princess bandaid over his face. “I think I’m allowed to worry about you being alone a lot when you’re walking around with-with my whole world inside of your belly. Because what if next time something happens it’s not just a little cut on your hand? What if it’s serious and I can’t get here in time to help you?” Out of instinct you place your hands on top of your bump as he tells you exactly why this little scrape on your knuckles has caused such an intense reaction.

“I worry about you and just want to know you’re safe that’s all.” You feel a lump start to form in your throat as he lets out a shaky breath before he turns to look at you.

“I understand.” Your voice is strained as you try to swallow down the emotions that want so desperately to start bubbling over. “I just don’t know how to help you not be so worried.” You tell him truthfully, because at the moment you have no clue how to help ease his anxiety about you being alone if something happens.

“I take it you don’t fancy the idea of just moving-” A sudden knock makes both of your heads turn towards the front door. Harry takes the interruption to really think about what he was about to say to you, asking how you felt about moving in with him, even if he didn’t quite mean it as seriously as you might’ve taken it he was still only a few seconds away from letting the words fall from his mouth and that takes him by more of a surprise than the knock that stopped it from happening.

“Are you expecting someone?” Your voice takes him out of his brief moment of deep thought as you look away from the door and towards him with a raised brow.

“Me? This isn’t my house why would I be expecting someone?” You just shrug as you make a move to get up but are quickly stopped by Harry standing in front of you holding out the bandaid he picked, making a small smile appear on your face when you see it’s Belle from Beauty and the Beast.

“I’m not expecting anyone.” You state as you raise your hand for him so he can place the bandage on your scraped knuckles before turning and heading for your front door so he can answer it for you. He imagines whoever it is that’s expecting you will be quite shocked to find him on the other side of the door but that’s an issue he will deal with once he has to.

“Check the peephole before you open it Harry it could be a weirdo.” You call out to him as he gets closer to the front door causing him to roll his eyes before he leans in and looks out the tiny peephole on your door.

“There’s no one out there so maybe it was just a delivery?” You raise an eyebrow as you lean over a bit so you have a direct line of sight to your front door allowing you to watch Harry open it to reveal a white box with a pink and blue bow tied around it. “It’s a cake.” He says as he bends down to carefully pick up the box so he can bring it inside.

“A cake? I didn’t order a cake.” You begin to go through your memory of the last few days as Harry kicks your front door closed with his foot before walking back towards you in the kitchen with the box in his hands. “Did I order a cake in my sleep? No. No way I- I haven’t done that in months.” You mumble to yourself making Harry send you a questioning glance as he places the cake down on the table in front of you.

“You’ve ordered a cake in your sleep before?”

“Oh has Mr. Popular never ordered something while half asleep? I highly doubt that.” You tease as Harry reaches for the card that’s taped to the top of the box before sitting down in the chair next to you.

“It’s from my mom.” He says in a very confused voice but as he goes to read the rest of the card he sees your fingers grab the top of it yanking it out of his hands.

“God have some manners this is my cake so it’s my card so let me read it.”

“Uh it said to the lovely parents to be making it our cake and our card.”

“Why would she send a cake for both of us to my apartment?”

“Because she knows I was planning on hanging the curtains for you today.” He answers as he begins to undo the bow, careful not to ruin it because he has a feeling you’re going to want to keep it for sentimental reasons. While you read over the card he opens the box and as soon as he sees what’s written on the cake he feels his stomach do a weird flip.

“All it says is-Harry? What’s-”

“This isn’t just a cake.”

“What do you mean it’s not-oh my god.” Your words turn into a whisper as Harry turns the box towards you so you can read what the top of the cake says. His eyes watch your reaction closely as you bring the hand that’s not clutching the card up to cover your mouth.

“It says we’re having twins with three little dots at the end so that-” Harry swallows before he looks at the cake that you’re still staring at with wide eyes as your hand goes from covering your mouth up to your forehead as you begin to breathe a little heavier. “That means it’s going to tell us what we are having.” He finishes with a heavy sigh.

“Okay this is fine we will just act like it’s a normal cake and honestly this is great because at the end of the day we get to have cake and who doesn’t like cake?” Harry just goes along with your anxious rambling as you begin to fan yourself with the card while he stands up from his seat so he can carefully take the cake out of the box and place it down on the table.

“I’m gonna go grab uhm plates and a-a knife.” You don’t even bother nodding as you stare at the cake in front of you that somehow holds the answer to an extremely important question while Harry stumbles his way into your kitchen on the hunt for two plates and a knife. “Okay so how do you want to do this?” He asks once he’s back sitting next to you.

“Uh maybe I’ll cut it with my eyes closed and-”

“You want me to let you hold a knife with your eyes closed? After you already had to get a bandaid not even ten minutes ago?”

“Okay then just cut it a piece and put it on a plate.” You answer as you stop fanning yourself and place the card on the table next to the cake so you can reach over and hand Harry the knife.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this kind of anxiety before, and he knows it’s just the anticipation of finally finding out what you’re carrying but he can’t help how shaky his hand is as he holds the knife over the cake. He shoots you a look and when you just nod at him as you chew on your bottom lip he takes a deep breath and cuts into the cake. You feel like time moves in slow motion as Harry cuts a piece and puts it on the plate in front of you, both of you stare at it for a solid minute before you can process what exactly you’re looking at.

“That’s pink.” He whispers as you let out a sniffle while you nod your head.

“And blue.” You feel your eyes begin to burn as you look at the piece of white cake that’s been dyed blue for two layers and pink for the other two with a thin layer of vanilla icing in between each layer.

“A boy and-and a girl? We’re having a boy and a girl.” Harry’s voice is watery as he finally looks away from the cake and over to you and when your eyes meet it’s as if the flood gates open and the tears begin to roll down your face.

Before you can even make sense of what you’re doing you fling your arms around Harry and pull him into an awkwardly angled hug, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he wraps his arms around you in return. He tries to hold his emotions together but as soon as he feels you give him a squeeze he can’t help but let a few tears slip past his waterline. When you pull away a few moments later you grab Harry’s hands and place them on your bump, letting your hands loosely grip his wrists.

“Edward and Nora.” The grin that spreads across Harry’s face as you say the names the two of you agreed on last week makes your heart want to explode as you place your hands over his.

“Hello Edward James and Nora Anne Styles I’m-I’m your dad and I can’t wait to meet you.” He says with a smile as he leans down so he’s closer to your bump making a whole new wave of tears want to flow down your cheeks but you do your best to blink them away.

“I hope they have your eyes.”

“Yeah? Even though they’re big and dumb?”

“More importantly they’re green.” Harry laughs at your response as he rubs his thumbs over the soft material of your shirt that’s covering your bump. “Oh god where’s Paris? I need to tell him he’s going to have a brother and a sister.” You begin to look around the kitchen for any signs of the orange cat trying not to feel overwhelmed by how good and normal it feels having Harry rub and talk to your bump.

“I’ll go find him.” Harry says with a smile as he gives your bump one last gentle rub before you lift your hands off of his allowing him to get up from his seat. You give him a smile when he looks at you one more time before heading down the hallway to check your bedroom, but the moment he’s out of sight you let out a deep breath and try to get a firm grip on your emotions not wanting to let this moment cause you to slip into a dangerous line of thinking. The type that ends with you starting to envision Harry around all the time, doting on you like he did earlier with the bandaid and just being as normal as a couple the two of you could be. But you know for that to ever happen he’d have to actually have some sort of feelings for you and as far as you know he just sees you as someone who’s having his babies that he now can tolerate being around.

“Holy shit.” Harry mumbles as he runs a hand through his hair and takes a seat at the end of your bed. He takes a minute to think about everything that’s just happened in the last five minutes. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he finally starts to come to some sort of conclusion about how he feels about you. His moment of peace is short lived as he hears a bell jingle and soon feels the softness of fur rubbing at his ankles. “Can you keep a secret?” He asks the orange cat as he looks up at him from where he’s sitting next to Harry’s right ankle, his favorite one to snack on Harry has learned. When Paris just tilts his head Harry does something risky and bends down and gently picks him up but to his surprise Paris just nuzzles his head into the crook of Harry’s neck and starts purring.

“I think I have a crush on your mom.” He whispers to Paris who doesn’t do anything besides purr a little louder as Harry smiles and stands up so he can bring him to you. “Don’t tell her okay?” He adds in a hushed voice and when Paris just moves his head a bit to get comfortable Harry feels like he has finally done it, he has earned the trust of your very picky and very protective cat and takes that as a good sign that he’s made the right decision in acknowledging his feelings about you, now all he has to do is figure out how to tell you.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Love's Punishment 🏛️

⚣🏛️ A/N → If y'all knew how many times I deleted and restarted this entire thing... I don't even remember how I got this idea, I just remember wanting to write an obsession/love spell fic where some male superheroes go batshit crazy & horny over the reader. Either way, hope you all enjoy it. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | OMEGAVERSE | Canon-Typical Violence | Alpha Barry Allen/Flash | Alpha Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | Alpha Clark Kent/Superman | Demigod-Omega Male Reader | Obsessive Behavior/Actions | Attempted Non-Con | Dub-Con | Oral Play | Knotting | Bonding Marks | Sneaky & Meddlesome Gods & Goddesses |

Prompts Used: @rednsuch – #39 “Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling.” – #13 “Stop being such a brat.”

⚣🏛️ Summary → One may ask what it's like having a God or Goddess for a parent. Honestly, not fun, and Y/N is a perfect example of that considering how he's being punished by his mother. How do you even bring up this level of mommy issues in therapy?

⚣🏛️ Word Count → 6.2K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🏛️

Daddy issues this, and Daddy issues that.

What about the people who have mommy issues? Because they exist, and Y/N would be shocked if anyone else’s relationship challenges with their mother were similar to his own.

Truthfully, he would never understand or believe the idea that someone could have sex and procreate with a god or goddess and not have one clue. There was no divine light following behind them? No wisps of magic or sparkles. No flowers and bright auras left in their footpaths?

Nothing, not a single clue?

Bullshit.

You may ask yourself, “Y/N, whatever could be wrong with someone having adult fun and having children with a god or goddess?”

Lots of things, actually. There could be an encyclopedia on why that could be a bad idea with lots of consequences to follow. Too many to get into right at this moment considering he was busy trying to cover his head and face from getting blasted while hanging off a superhero’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

Getting punished by a god or goddess was not for the weak.

No kid liked getting in trouble and punished by their parents. It was a very unpleasant and frustrating feeling when you had to answer for something you either 100% did without thinking of the circumstances, or something that happened and you were the victim of said circumstances.

But imagine getting punished by your God or Goddess parent for something that you had no control over. Even more, something said parent was directly responsible for!

The hypocrisy of it all.

Y/N’s father was a handsome man. Their genes were always divinely blessed, the Alpha always liked to joke, and the young Omega didn’t realize the irony of that statement until he got older and started questioning things.

Whenever he thought about changing his appearance or switching something up, it happened immediately without any action or movement from him. At one point during some teenage life crisis, he wanted to go blonde but didn’t even need to purchase dye. One moment he’s looking at his natural hair color and looks down to grab his comb. Next thing he knows, he’s got a full head of blond hair in the exact style he imagined. And it looked goood.

There was another time when he wished in his head that the sweater he was eyeing while shopping was gray instead of red, but according to the store, they never produced that particular color. When he went to go look at other options, imagine his surprise when he turned back two minutes later and it seemed as if the store did indeed have gray. And from a closer look, they only had gray. Starting to see the point?

Y/N could read people like a book, especially pertaining to feelings of affection, desire, and jealousy. Imagine the ability to feel someone’s very adult-like feelings, and you hadn’t even hit puberty yet. His dad had to have the birds and the bees talk with him much earlier than planned.

One of the most concerning things was Y/N's naturally attractive aura and charming voice. Though, he couldn’t tell if it was his voice or just the words he spoke that were attractive. But, people seemed to flock to him like moths to a flame. Even at a young age, many fought for his attention, whether it was classmates, friends, family, or strangers he’d run into when out with his dad.

It was normal for an Omega to be highly desired and sought after by Alphas, but it wasn’t just them fighting for his attention. Y/N had Betas and Omegas alike competing with each other for the chance to get acquainted with him.

By the time he entered high school, on record, he had up to four secret admirers (and two stalkers), and when things only seemed to get more out of control, that’s when his dad finally decided to sit him down and explain the truth to him.

“So, yeah. Probably should have told you this when you were younger, but your mom’s Aphrodite.”

…

Not joking, he 100% said it just like that.

Of course, you can imagine the Omega’s confusion and somewhat anger that this information had been withheld for most of his life. Now, not only did Y/N have to deal with the everyday struggles of life and being an Omega, but he also had to balance being the demigod son to the Goddess of Beauty, Love, and Desire. When you think about it, it made the Omega thing 10x more stressful than it already was.

This was the type of shit people wrote and fantasized about.

Wait a sec…

…

Nah.

Now, back to the beginning, since we have some more context, what was this so-called punishment, and why did it have Y/N grumbling about mommy issues while being whisked around the nation’s capital as some superheroes had it out with each other over who got to claim his body affection?

Oh, nothing serious, really. Just mommy dearest trying to interfere with her son’s love life! Who knew the immortal parents were privy to the same, petty tactics as their mortal counterparts…

Unlike most others who would be excited at the thought of being the child of Aphrodite, Y/N felt he had an unfair advantage when it came to dating and relationships, given his semi-godly abilities and gifts. After his last relationship ended in a horror show with a sequel he promised would never see production, he swore off dating and romance for good.

Well, that didn’t fly too well with Aphrodite. Her children, full-blood and half-blood, were always known for their romantic escapades. One of them was the face of Valentine’s Day! Well, his cousin from Rome was, at least.

So, with the help of her son and Y/N’s half-brother, Eros, God of Love, Lust, and Sex, (the mentioned Greek cousin to Cupid) they set up a little divine punishment for the young Demigod to teach him a lesson for rejecting his goldy heritage. It also paid off as insurance, just in case.

Deities and their children were always known to be stubborn little beings.

Aphrodite sent Eros down to Earth to follow his half-blood sibling around, observing his actions and who he interacted with. And, for any male Alpha that the Omega came in contact with, the God of Lust was to ensure a connection was established between the two if he deemed them worthy enough.

Simply put, he was to shoot male Alpha he figured his mother would approve as a match for her son/his brother in the ass with a love arrow. Now, why she told him to shoot only male Alphas and not female, you’d have to ask her.

Mother knows best.

Unlucky for Y/N, they chose one of the worst days to do that when he happened to be in Washington, D.C. for a work-related trip.

Do you know what else is in Washington, D.C.? The Justice League headquarters.

But, why would that be a problem? Do you really need an explanation?

Imagine how interesting it would be if, at the same time Y/N happened to be in Washington, D.C., one of the famous Justice League heroes like Flash, Green Lantern, or Superman happened to be there as well. Picture how tempting of an opportunity it would be for Eros after he was told to find the best potential matches for his little brother.

Pretty damn tempting if you ask anyone else.

Now, if we’re being truthful, Superman was Eros’ ideal choice for his brother, knowing their mother would definitely approve of the relationship between her son and the Kryptonian. Even if he wasn’t an Alpha due to his alien biology, he still had all the ideal traits of one. Not to mention his strong features and handsome looks.

But, he wasn’t opposed to one of the other heroes like Flash or Green Lantern. And when the latter had been the one to save Y/N during some random battle that broke out between the League and some villains, he figured why not just shoot them all and see who came out on top?

Plus, he was the God of Sex just as much as he was of Love. He wanted to see who out of the three heroes had the sexual prowess to handle someone like his brother. Prude or not, being mated to a child of Aphrodite meant you had to be strong in a lot of ways, especially when it came down to the nitty and gritty.

And who said he couldn’t get a little entertainment out of this?

That entertainment is what led Y/N to his situation of being carried throughout the city like some prize while the world’s defenders fought with each other like kids trying to get the last cookie in the jar.

As said, it started with Green Lantern rescuing him and carrying him away to some random rooftop. Everything seemed normal until Y/N noticed a change in the hero and his sudden lustful gazes that were being directed at him. He'd been on the receiving end of a fair amount of adoration and attention by admiring and persistent Alphas, but this he could tell was something different.

And it was.

Eros had shot Green Lantern with the love arrow while they were still in the sky. Now, instead of thinking about the fight he was leaving his comrades to handle by themselves without his assistance, all his thoughts were centered around the Omega in his arms and how blessed he was to be in the presence of such a radiant being.

And how much he couldn't wait to claim his body all for himself. Besides, no one was more fitting or deserving of an Omega of Y/N's stature than the Green Lantern himself. At least, that's what his love-delusioned, and frankly, naturally egotistical mind believed.

Y/N didn't have time to even question what was going on before the green-clad hero had whisked him away to a rooftop, not too far from where the fight was happening. He figured it was over after that and the Alpha would return to his comrades after setting him down.

Imagine the Omega's shock when he found himself pressed against a wall, the hero kissing and nuzzling his neck while running his hands down his body.

"W-What are you doing?" Y/N stuttered out, trying to push the man away but to no avail.

"What does it look like? I'm saving you," The hero's voice was gruff and desperate, and the Omega was starting to get concerned.

"Okay, but this is less saving and more of molesting," Y/N struggled, having his arms pinned against the wall before feeling a hand running down his body towards his pants.

"I'm saving you from other Alphas trying to claim you. After this, you'll belong to me, and me only," Lantern growled gruffly in his ear, an aggressiveness that was all too familiar to the Omega. He'd seen this behavior before but didn't have much time to think about it as the hero started unbuttoning his pants.

"W-Wait! Stop!"

"No, I can't," Lantern shook his head, his eyes glazed over.

"You're under a spell or something!" Y/N tried again, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"I can't stop myself. I need you now," The hero growled, finally pulling the Omega's pants and underwear down before undoing his own and pulling out his throbbing, hard cock.

"No! Stop! You don't want to do this!"

"Stop being such a brat. I need to do this," Lantern's voice was firm and demanding.

Before the green-clad hero could achieve his objective, he was suddenly yanked off the Omega by a red and yellow blur, electricity crackling off it. The Omega after realizing he was free wasted no time in pulling his underwear and pants back up, watching as the blur, now recognized to be Flash, was currently fighting with Green Lantern near the edge of the rooftop.

"What are you doing, man?!" Flash yelled, trying to restrain the other hero.

"Let go of me, I need to save him!" Lantern growled, fighting the speedster's hold.

"From what?" Flash questioned, looking at the Omega confused.

"He's mine!"

"He's not yours!"

"Yes, he is!"

"GL, you need to get a grip."

"He's my Omega! I need to mark him!"

From his position, Y/N could see Flash was struggling to hold the other Alpha down and figured he should probably make his exit right about now. He made his way over to the fire escape, about to climb over until a figure floated up from below.

Superman, ever in his large and slightly intimidating form with his cape blowing in the wind looked down at the Omega with a smile, offering his hand, "Need some help?"

The Omega smiled with a soft blush, trying to quell his nerves at the Alpha's admittedly very handsome and chiseled face. Again, the Omega was no prude, nor was he oblivious to all the gossip and rumors of the world's protectors and their handsome and muscular figures. The latter was made even more prominent by the tight nature of their uniforms.

Y/N would be lying if he said he wasn't looking at Flash's prominent glutes hidden under the red spandex.

But, before the Omega took the Kryptonian's equally large hand, he noticed something in the background. The fight that initially led to this whole mess was still going on. Yet, three of the main superheroes involved in that fight were over here. Flash, he threw to the back of his mind since the speedster did technically save him. But, why was Superman here?

That's when Y/N noticed something in the Kryptonian hero's eyes. An expression almost identical to the one he just saw in Green Lantern.

Uh oh.

Before the Omega could even react, the Alpha had already scooped him up into his arms and flew off into the sky.

"H-Hey! Put me down!" Y/N stuttered, struggling in the Alpha's hold.

"I can't. I need to save you," Superman's voice was low and deep, and the Omega could feel the vibrations from his chest.

Hmm, where had he heard that before?

"Save me from what?"

"Other Alphas trying to claim you," The Kryptonian explained, and Y/N could have sworn he heard a growl in his voice.

A nervous feeling settled into his stomach, and if he wasn't careful, he'd find himself falling prey and submissive to the very situation he was trying to find a way out of. Being Aphrodite's son as mentioned before, he had an extraordinary gift with the power of emotions and desires. He could project his feelings of desire and love onto others, just as much as he could mirror them.

Another one of those aforementioned consequences of deities breeding with mortals.

The only thing Y/N struggled to figure out though was why all of this was happening. He'd never had a run-in with any of these heroes before, and the only time he'd seen behavior like this was when it was related to his...

...Of course.

His mother.

Now, everything was starting to make sense. This could only be the work of mommy dearest, and if Y/N had to guess, his half-brother Eros as well.

He'd have to deal with that problem later, though. Right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand, and that was escaping the arms of a very powerful, very strong, and very horny superhero.

"You're mine. I'll protect you from the others," Superman continued, and Y/N could feel a slight rumble in the Alpha's chest.

"I'm not yours," The Omega shook his head, continuing to struggle.

"Yes, you are. You're mine," The Kryptonian's grip tightened, and the Omega winced at the pain.

Y/N looked down and quickly rid himself of any thoughts that he could survive a fall from this height. Even if he was Aphrodite's son, he lacked something vitally important that his mother and brother both possessed. Immortality.

Hopefully, he could figure another way out of this.

He knew there was no reasoning with the Alpha. As long as he was under Eros' spell, no amount of logic or reasoning would get through to him. As cliché as it may sound, Y/N needed a divine intervention.

Thankfully, it seemed as if one was on the way.

Trails of green energy suddenly surrounded the pair, forming a giant floating cage. Superman turned to see his comrade, having escaped from Flash's grasp flying toward them.

"Get away from him!" Green Lantern yelled, flying towards the duo.

"No! He belongs to me. You have no right to him Lantern," Superman shouted back, clutching the Omega closer.

"You're not even a real Alpha, Clark! You're not even strong enough to make an Omega like him submit to you."

"What did you just say?!"

"You heard me, you fake-ass Alpha. I'm the only one worthy enough for him. Not some alien trash!"

"Why, you-"

Before the two could continue their argument, a vortex suddenly surrounded the two, causing Lantern to lose his focus. The energy cage surrounding the Kryptonian and Omega dissipated and the force from the vortex sent the two heroes to lose their flying. Superman tried his best to stay in the air, but the sudden force was too much and caused him to crash into a nearby building while Lantern crashed into a dumpster.

The Kryptonian managed to shield the Omega from the damage and brunt of their fall by wrapping him in his body. When Y/N realized they weren't falling anymore and had come to a complete stop, he peeked from the Alpha's hold, just in time to see the return of a certain Speedster who must have run up the side of the building to where they were now.

"Are you guys alright?" Flash asked, his eyes landing on the Omega in Superman's arms.

"I'm fine," Y/N nodded, and Flash sighed in relief.

"A vortex, Flash? Really?" Superman questioned with a raised eyebrow, still holding the Omega to his body.

"It was the quickest way to get you two out of the air without hurting anyone," Flash defended, crossing his arms.

"By throwing us into a building?"

"Better than the ground."

"You could have gotten him killed!"

"You were the one holding him!"

"Guys, I'm fine. I promise," Y/N interrupted, and the two Alphas turned to him.

"See, he's fine. Let's get back to the fight," Flash suggested, turning to leave.

"No, not until he's mine," Superman shook his head, and the Omega groaned. He stood up from the ground, letting the Omega stand on his own feet, but keeping an arm wrapped body to prevent him from running off.

"Not this again," Flash sighed, turning back, "You can't claim him."

"And why not?"

"Because he's mine," Lantern's voice suddenly joined the conversation, and the three turned to see the hero, seemingly recovered from his fall, walking towards them.

"No, he's mine!" Superman shouted, his eyes suddenly glowing red as he pointed them at the green-clad hero.

"Clark, no!" Flash shouted, holding his arms up in an attempt to stop the Kryptonian.

"No, he's mine. He's mine. He's mine!" The Kryptonian yelled, his eyes getting brighter.

"Clark, you're gonna kill him!"

"I don't care, Barry. No one is taking my Omega from me."

"He's not yours to claim," Lantern shouted back.

While this was all happening, everyone was oblivious to the new presence that had joined him. Only, none of the heroes could see him. Only Y/N could, and that was a very big problem.

"Eros..." Y/N muttered under his breath, narrowing his gaze at his half-brother who held a mischievous grin on his face while positioning himself slowly behind the speedster.

When Y/N realized what he was doing, he struggled in the Kryptonian's grip, "Eros, no!"

But, it was too late. The deity had taken his shot at the Flash, hitting him perfectly square in the back. The speedster flinched at the impact, turning to look around but finding nothing there, at least, nothing his sight could see. But, when he turned his gaze back around and they fell on the Omega still trapped in Superman's hands, an identical glaze to match the one in the other heroes fell over his eyes. One the half-blood was all too familiar with.

"Oh fuck..." Y/N muttered under his breath.

"Mine," Flash growled, his eyes trained on the Omega.

Before either of the two other heroes could react, Flash sped forward and landed a bunch of fast punches and blows on the Kryptonian, causing him to lose his grip on the Omega.

"Flash, what are you doing?" Lantern yelled at his comrade.

"Taking what's mine," The speedster responded, a charming but crazed look in his expression.

He grabbed Y/N and threw him over his shoulder, the Omega flailing in his grip while also trying to hold on tight as the speedster sped around the space, avoiding attacks from both Green Lantern and Superman at the same time.

"He's not yours, Barry!" Superman shouted, his heat vision shooting at the speedster who avoided it with ease.

"Yes, he is! He's mine!" The speedster yelled, clutching the Omega tighter.

"No, he's mine," Lantern yelled back, sending a giant fist toward the speedster who avoided it in a blur.

"No, he's mine!" Superman yelled, sending his heat vision at Lantern who in turn blocked it with a shield.

"No, he's mine!" The two shouted together, and the fight resumed.

Y/N, still trapped in the speedster's arms, watched helplessly as the Kryptonian and Lantern focused their attacks on each other, feeling a pat on his ass from the speedster who tightened the grip he had around his legs.

"Don't worry about them, beautiful. They're not worthy enough to have you. I am. You'll be mine, and I'll protect you from the others," Flash's voice was husky, and the Omega could feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"You're under a spell, Flash. You don't want to do this," Y/N tried to reason, but the speedster just laughed.

"Oh, but I do. I didn't know what actual life was until just a few minutes ago when I gazed upon you. and now that I have you, I can finally make you mine," Flash smirked, and the Omega gulped.

Flash sped out of the building with the Omega over his shoulder still, the two other Alphas only noticing their disappearance after they were already a mile down the street.

"Shit, where did he take him?" Lantern asked, looking around.

"I don't know," Superman answered, "But we'll find him. And when we do, you'll be the one who has to step aside."

"Like hell, I will!"

While those two continued to bicker, Flash ran himself and the Omega all the way back to Central City. Y/N was amazed at how he didn't pass out from the speed and movement, but he was grateful he didn't. Also, having superspeed may have made it a bit easier.

Just a guess.

When they finally came to a stop, the Omega was set down on his feet, and he looked around to see they were in some bedroom.

"Where are we?" Y/N asked, trying to keep his composure.

"My bedroom," Flash answered, his eyes still glazed over.

"Oh," Y/N nodded, a nervous feeling in his stomach.

"Don't worry, you're safe here," The speedster walked towards him, and the Omega backed away, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You say that, but your eyes say otherwise," Y/N responded, continuing to back away until he hit the wall.

"I know. But, I can't help it. I need to have you," Flash smirked, and the Omega felt his arousal getting excited in his pants.

"I'm not yours to have," Y/N shook his head, his heart pounding.

"Yes, you are," Flash's voice was firm, and the Omega felt his resolve fading.

"I-I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his knees getting weak.

"Yes, you are," The speedster was in front of him, and Y/N could feel his breath on his skin.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, but his voice was barely a whisper.

"You are," Flash whispered, his face close to the Omega's.

The very thing Y/N was concerned about happening when he was trapped with Superman earlier began to manifest, much to his fear. His divine abilities were reacting to his body's 'chemistry spikes' and now, he was beginning to mirror the Alpha's current feelings toward him, including the obsessive ones, which were now clouding his judgment.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, his breathing getting labored.

"You are," Flash whispered, his lips getting closer to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his body giving in.

"You are," Flash whispered, pressing his lips to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N muttered against his lips.

"You are," Flash said firmly, pulling the Omega's body closer to him.

In a move Y/N thought was him going to push against the Alpha in an attempt to resist his seductions, he actually was running his hands up and down the spandex-covered muscles. His legs were spread open by the speedster as he hoisted him up, wrapping them around his waist while pressing him to the wall, kissing him even harder while undressing his clothes.

"You're mine, Y/N," The speedster whispered, his lips trailing down the Omega's neck, "All mine."

"I'm yours, Barry," Y/N panted, his body flushed. Y/N remembered hearing Superman call the speedster by that, figuring it must have been either his civilian name or a codename they had. Either way, he could see from the delighted expression across the Flash's face and his blue eyes through the slits of his mask that he was very pleased by it.

"Say it again."

"I'm yours, Barry. I'm yours."

"That's right, beautiful. You're mine, and I'm yours. You'll never have to worry about other Alphas again, because I'll protect you from them."

The sun's light cascaded through the open windows in the bedroom as the two continued frotting against each other against the wall. Barry trailed his kisses from Y/N's lips down to his neck and eventually to his naked chest, before sucking on his wet nipples while the Omega through his head back in pleasure, the Alpha looking up at him with his blue eyes before taking his lips away from the leaking nubs.

"Do you like that, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded, his eyes glazed over, "Are you ready for more?"

"Y-Yes, Alpha," Y/N nodded, his breath labored.

"Good boy," Barry whispered, his voice husky and deep. He kissed the Omega one last time on the lips before pulling him away from the wall, carrying him bridal style to the bed.

Barry laid the Omega down, the latter spreading his legs open in submission and invitation, and the former smirked, climbing on top of the bed. Barry pressed kisses to the side of the Omega's neck again, right over his scent gland before taking a big sniff.

"Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling."

Barry's hands roamed the Omega's upper naked body, feeling the smooth and soft skin while trailing his fingers down his sides and to his hips. Y/N gasped, his hands gripping the sheets as the speedster's fingers teased the inside of his thighs.

"I love the way your skin feels, and the way your body reacts to me," Barry whispered, his nose pressing into the Omega's scent gland.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his body arching off the bed.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hands squeezing the Omega's hips.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his eyes closed.

"That's right, baby. I'm Barry, and you're mine," Barry whispered, his fingers moving up the Omega's inner thighs.

"I'm yours," Y/N nodded, his legs spreading open even wider.

However, before Barry could move to remove the Y/N’s pants, the Omega whined at him, tugging on the spandex of his suit and mask with his hands causing a cheesing smile to appear across the Alpha's face.

"Aw, you want to see me out of my suit, don't you, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded frantically.

"Yes, Alpha. Please."

"Good boy," Barry praised, and the Omega whimpered.

He quickly removed his gloves and masks, tossing them aside before unzipping the top of his suit and pulling it off, revealing his sculpted and muscled chest. Y/N's eyes widened in delight and appreciation at the sight, reaching his hands out to touch the smooth and pale skin.

The Omega moaned happily at the sight, running his hands down the hard pecs and abs while leaning up to press his own kisses against the skin. Barry shuddered above him from the move while resuming his earlier actions of removing the offending pants and underwear that were hiding his prize from his sight.

Tossing the pants aside, he leaned up and took in the sight of the fully naked Omega, writhing on his sheets and whining for him, feeling his own throbbing hard erection under his suit pants.

"Look at you, darling. So beautiful, and all mine," Barry ran his hands down the Omega's sides, creating a tickling feeling that had the smaller male giggling, "I can't wait to claim your body, all for me," he growled, voice husky with want.

Barry kissed his way down the Omega's chest, taking a moment to bite and lick at the leaking nubs again before gripping his thighs and spreading them open. He positioned his head between the open legs while staring at the tight, slick-producing hole in front of him. He lapped his tongue to gather of taste of it on his tongue, Y/N flinching violently at the sensation while calling out the Alpha's name.

"Delicious," Barry muttered, before diving in on the wet treat in front of him.

"Oh fuck," Y/N moaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

Barry's tongue lapped at the dripping slick, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs tight and pushing them open even further to gain better access. Y/N moaned, his back arching off the bed while the Alpha's tongue entered his hole, tasting him from the inside.

"Barry, please. Please, I need it. Please," Y/N begged, his body shaking with arousal and want.

Barry didn't listen to him though, he kept feasting on the Omega's arousal while using his speed to vibrate his tongue inside him, causing the Omega to moan even louder, his body shaking with pleasure.

"Barry, please! a-ah, fuck ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking even more.

"What do you need, baby? Tell me," Barry asked, pulling his tongue out and looking at the Omega with a smirk.

"I-I need you... Please, please," Y/N begged, and the Alpha smiled.

"You want me, baby?"

"Yes, Alpha. Please, I need you. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

The Alpha discarded the rest of his suit and underwear, his throbbing erection springing free, causing the Omega to lick his lips at the sight. Barry chuckled at his reaction while pulling him down the bed and picking him up in his arms, wrapping the smaller male's legs around him and pressing him against the wall.

Barry played with his cock against the Y/N's wet heat, enjoying the pleasurable reactions that ran across the Omega's face. "Who's your Alpha?" He asked with another playful smack of his mushroom head against the hot and throbbing entrance.

"Y-You, Alpha," Y/N panted, his face red and eyes glazed over.

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha," Barry whispered before he slowly slid inside the Omega.

"Fuck!" Y/N yelled, his head leaning back against the wall.

"So tight and warm. It's like you were made just for me, baby," Barry moaned, his cock pushing all the way in until his balls were pressed against the Omega's ass.

Y/N dug his nails into the skin of Barry's shoulders while the Alpha pressed him harder against the wall, his hips rapidly moving back and forth as he fucked him hard. The speedster's hips and legs were already dripping with more and more of the Omega's arousal as it dripped into his carpet, creating more of a mess the harder he thrust in and out of the hole.

"h-harder ... p-please, harder ..." Y/N moaned, his eyes closed while Barry sucked on his neck.

"So beautiful," Barry growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass cheeks while thrusting harder, "Such a good little Omega, taking my cock so well."

"Barry! Barry!" Y/N moaned, his legs wrapped tighter around the Alpha's waist.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry!" Y/N moaned, his back arching.

Suddenly, Barry got the bright idea to add his speed to it, making his hips move at a pace that would be deemed impossible for any regular human. Good thing he wasn't a regular human. However, the increase in speed had Y/N shouting at the top of his lungs, tears springing to his eyes as he pounded his fists against the Alpha's hard, mildly sweaty chest.

Meanwhile, Y/N was a soaking mess. The shine from the sweat all around his body was highlighted by the sun's fading rays and the increasingly bright glow from the streetlights outside the window. Combined with the sticky fluid still leaking from his chest and the slick that was all but splashing between the Alpha and Omega.

"That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry, I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum," Y/N cried, his legs shaking.

"Do it. Cum for me, baby," Barry commanded, and the Omega followed.

"Fuck!" Y/N screamed, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came between the two, digging nails into Barry's sweaty back as his release overwhelmed him.

"That's a good Omega," Barry said, before slipping out of the smaller male, carrying him over to the bed and propping him up on all fours.

He gripped the Omega's hips, sliding back inside him and fucking him at a rapid pace, his hips slapping against the plump ass cheeks. Y/N's eyes rolled back into his head as he cried out, his body shaking with pleasure while the Alpha fucked him.

"That's it, baby. Take it," Barry growled, his grip tightening on the Omega's hips.

"p-please, I can't... FUCK! I can't take anymore... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking as the Alpha started using his powers again to increase his speed.

"You can, and you will," Barry growled, his hips moving even faster.

"Barry, please! Fuck, I'm gonna... !"

"Do it. Cum for me, baby. Cum for your Alpha," Barry growled.

"mm ... mmh ... ! O-OHH, FUCK ... !" Y/N shouted, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came, his legs and body shaking from the overstimulation as the Alpha started to chase his own finish.

Barry's knot started to form at the base and slowly was inching closer and closer as the Alpha fucked the Omega who was beginning to softly cry from the amount of pleasure and pain he was experiencing. His hands weakly tried to push against the speedster's hips in an attempt to slow him down but were snatched together in a grip while feeling a painful smack against his ass.

"Don't try and fight it, baby. Just let me claim you. Just let me have you," Barry growled, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"Barry, I-I can't ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking.

"Yes, you can. Just a little longer," Barry's hips started to stutter, and the Omega cried out, his legs shaking as he felt the Alpha's knot starting to press against his hole.

"Barry, please! PLEASE ... !" Y/N sobbed, his body convulsing on the inside from the overwhelming sensation.

"Just a little longer, baby. Just a little longer."

"I-I can't... Please, I can't ... !"

"Almost there, baby. Who's your Alpha?"

"Y-You... You are ... !"

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha. And, now I'm gonna make you mine. Forever."

With that, Barry pressed all the way inside, releasing his knot into the Omega with a loud groan as he leaned forward, catching himself on the bed as Y/N had his third orgasm against the sheets, suddenly feeling heavy and drained from the strenuous workout he just went through.

While the pair were both recovering, neither of them realized the small, matching marks that slowly appeared over their scent glands. They were now a fully mated pair, and the God of Love and Sex knew this as he peered in through the window, watching the sweaty individuals with satisfaction.

"Welp, my job's done. I'm sure Mother will be pleased with this outcome. Serves you right, brother. You should know better than to try and deny your heritage. Hope you learn well from this punishment."

With that, the deity disappeared, making his way home.

Meanwhile...

"That should be the last of them," Lantern said, flying through the air after he captured the last of the attacking minions.

"Good," Superman nodded, his eyes still glowing white as he scanned the area.

"What are you doing?" Lantern asked, looking at the Kryptonian confused.

"Looking for him."

"Who?"

"The Omega."

"Oh yeah, do you think Barry already claimed him?"

"Probably, but it doesn't matter. Cause he belongs to me, and I'm going to take him back, by whatever means necessary."

☀️ | Barry Allen/Flash | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[olivianott]

WHITE DRESS

Posting this again, because I can’t stop thinking about the Goddess moment and that one photo from pinterest 😌

ꕤ Theo Nott x fem!reader

ꕤ enemies to lovers, a little bit of smut - not for minors

ꕤ originaly part of the jinxedjuly challenge, with second week prompt nightswim, but now it’s too late I’m sorry 😬

It’s 3 am and you can’t sleep. It’s too hot outside, no air to breathe in your room. Putting your thin long dress on, you go take a walk outside around the pool.

It’s still hot outside, but the light breeze coming from the sea feels great on your skin.

You sit on one of the pool lounges and close your eyes, listening to the sounds of the night. Finally, you can relax, your mind a little more at ease.

Suddenly something doesn’t feel right. You feel compelled to look behind you and there it is. A silhouette. There. In the dark entrance to the pool area.

It moves closer to you and comes into the light. Theodore. You roll your eyes. The bane of your existence. You can’t believe your friends invited him and no one told you.

“What the fuck do you want? Why are you following me?” You don’t have a good relationship. He is a fuckboy with a body worthy of Greek gods but is such an asshole to you, makes fun of everything you do or say, constantly.

“Oh Princessa, don’t you think you give yourself too much credit sometimes? It may come as a surprise to you, but the universe does not revolve around you, you know?”

“You fucking…” but you don’t even bother finishing the sentence, you just stand up and with an angry and disappointed sigh stomp to him and try to storm around him back into the house.

You make it a point not to look at him but you catch a strange look on his face in your peripheral vision anyway.

His arm shoots out and catches you off guard. It curls around your waist and pulls you into him. What is happening?

Theo speaks right into your ear: “I think you need to loosen up a bit princess, maybe a little night swim with me will help you.” You can just imagine the smirk on his face but you don’t have any time to respond, because the asshole picks you up and throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You can admit to yourself that the view of his ass in the swim trunks is not half bad but you don’t, because he runs towards the pool.

FUCK.

The shock of the water against your skin and all around you makes you panic for a second too long but strong arms pull you up and hold you above the surface of the water. Your angry scowl goes unnoticed by him as he leaves you leaning against the wall of the pool once you gather yourself.

“I hate you so much. What is your problem, asshole?”

He completely ignores you and swims to the other side of the pool. When he turns around, you know he has his stupid smirk on his face, even though you don’t see his mouth, only his eyes above the surface.

Your friends said he is “such a nice person”, but why is he always such a prick to you? Some say it’s because he wants your attention, pulling on your pigtails and whatnot. Maybe you should get back at him and test that theory at the same time.

You’ve never been shy, but this took a lot of courage from you. Getting out of the pool you walk across the deck to where he leans against the wall, his eyes so big, you already feel accomplished.

The thin material of the dress clings to the curves of your body, it’s completely seethrough when wet. Coupled with you not wearing any underwear beneath the dress, the look on his face is priceless. He can’t look away. You enjoy the sight of him with his mouth open, eyes big, not blinking. His stare travels all around your body and he seems like he is in a trance. You stop right beside him, the height difference that being out of the pool gives you goes straight into your head and you smirk down at him.

“Thank you for that, I was too hot. You can close your mouth now, loverboy.”

The way he looks at you from beneath your feet makes you feel like a Goddess, him your most devoted worshipper. You can basically see the hearts in his eyes. The theory has proven to be right.

Satisfied, you turn to leave, but his hand shoots forward and gently touches your ankle, careful not to make you trip, but it makes you turn around again.

Theo stands up on the higher pool step and it makes his eyes level with your chest. He grabs your thighs and the way he looks at you makes you drunk on his gaze. Shit. This was not part of the plan.

He picks you up, hands around your waist, pulls you down into the water again, and pins you against a wall of the deep end of the pool. With his hands caging you in, you can’t look away from his eyes behind the wet curtain of curls. The strange look is back in his eyes and his gaze falls on your still wet lips. You can’t look away. You follow the water droplet, traveling from the end of the hair strand, down his nose, all the way to his pouty lips. When it disappears into his slightly open mouth, you forget how to breathe altogether. His mouth is so close to yours. Suddenly your lips touch, and something between you, the tension that, unbeknownst to you, has been stretching, tightening, and growing for a long time now, snaps. You forget everything around you, the only thing you feel is his lips on yours, his hands in your hair, the length of his body pushing against yours.

Fingers caressing your nipples, but it’s not enough.

Thigh between your legs, but your dress is too long.

Hand pulling the dress up, trying to bunch it up against your thighs, but it’s too tight.

Head falling against your shoulder, Theo sighs into your neck, frustrated.

“Fuck! You know what Princessa? Tomorrow. Same time, here in the pool. Wear something easier to take off, or I’ll tear it right off of you.” He whispers in your ear and your whole body erupts in goosebumps.

He doesn’t look at you while he gets out of the pool, and walks to the mansion, but the evidence of his arousal is on display.

Time to find an even longer and tighter dress, for him to rip to pieces tomorrow.

IT CONTINUES

As always, thank you for reading, hope you liked it.

If you want more: 🖤here🖤

[cheoridoll]

distraction —

pairing: robby keene x reader

warning: none, just something cute

words counted: 1.582

includes: just Robby like a puppy after his love

playlist for the fic: spotify. | forgive the bad english! it's not my first language.

A toss or a distraction, Robby felt useless at this point in the day, sitting on the couch at his half-brother's house, while staring at the turned off television, totally disconnected from his current reality, only remembering how he was used by a girl. And damn, he liked it. He couldn't deny that he was like a puppy, obeying all the orders of the tough rookie girl, the one who arrived suddenly, the distant female cousin of the Larusso family. Because Daniel loved her, she was like a daughter to him.

At first, he just wanted revenge, now he finds himself in love with his own karma.

"Hey bro, grab your backpack, let's go to school" — Miguel said, throwing the backpack against Keene's rigid body, waking up to life, as his father would say.

He forgot so much about the world outside his head, that he also ended up forgetting why he was awake so early. School.

"Shit! Miguel, did you do the french work?" — like a light bulb, it lit up his mind. He spent so much time focused on Larusso that he left aside his obligations, like an idiot in love, preferring to remain in the illusion of his own daydreams.

"Yes, I did." — he agreed, transforming his expression into a somewhat confused one, eyebrows drawn together and mouth half open.

"Put my name? Please!" — he asked with a huge pout on his lips, making Diaz understand and laugh loudly at the gesture.

"Okay, but stop making that weird face."

Robby was getting more and more electric as the hours passed, excited for class after lunch. Arts had become one of his recent passions. He loved painting feelings, the most recent being the common mix of love and fear, which he affectionately nicknamed "chocolate and pepper." Love creates artists, it created Robby, and disappointment makes them better. But deep down, I hoped it would continue as an unfinished creation.

Keene continued rambling in his head, and all paths ironically led him to her, to her beautiful hair, penetrating, oblique and hidden gaze. He hated love, he hated being attracted to someone who held him up like a spear, a fucking distraction.

"Where are you looking, Keene?" — Robby's head went straight to the empty food plate, making the blow have a greater impact, his face burned with pain, his throat wanted to scream, but he couldn't.

"Shit Kyler, get out of here you idiot." — Miguel accompanied him.

Kyler had been thinking about the guy with the clear eyes in recent days, vowing to give him a good beating one day, also stating that he would at least see where the blow came from. No sooner said than done. After the crash, he became dizzy, it wasn't like he had the strength to stand up there, his face was fucked up, he lost consciousness, he even lost sight of the fact that one of the shards of glass had flown onto his shoulder. Damn the day he decided to wear a shirt with a loose collar. I lifted the table, still tipping sideways and my vision was blurred, holding his belly, as if that would give him more balance. Kyler saw the biggest opportunity, turned his body and kicked the other person's heel, knocking Robby to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Miguel tried to advance towards the other, but was stopped by the idiots, cowardly held by three people. While struggling, Kyler threw the first kick.

"Oh, Kyler!" — a female voice tore through the place.

There were feelings in the speech, not so positive so to speak, perhaps hatred, anger with a hint of jealousy.

"Only I can mess with my blond." — ran towards the brunette, kicking him away from Keene, his kicks were high, Kyler didn't really know how to attack at that moment, nor did he know if he should, opting to take small steps backwards while using defense.

"Are you such a coward that you can't just slap me?"

He attacked her with hatred, threw her body to the ground and stood on top of her torso, while holding the thin collar of the girl's blouse, ready to throw the first punch. She smiled, not an ordinary smile, a devilish smile, and the surprise came with her tears, a desolate and fearful look.

"What's going on in that cafeteria?" — shouted the director, who with heavy steps walked towards Kyler, taking him off the girl.

Behind him was Daniel, who was helping prepare the dance that night.

"Uncle, I tried to defend my friend, but when I saw..." — he burst into tears, being lifted from the ground by his uncle, who hugged him carefully.

"Fine my love." - Larusso left the girl leaning against one of the tables, heading towards the body of the former apprentice. With compassion the silence against his body, the support between his arms in the most comfortable way he could.

"Are you okay, Robby?" Nothing was said, he was still dizzy from all the blows and the coffee didn't help his anxiety at that moment.

"Uncle, I'm going to take him to the infirmary, okay?"

"Okay, princess, I'm going to go to the principal's office and sort out this mess." — The older man left, while Larusso placed Robby's arm over his shoulders, in order to avoid another contact between the other person's body and the ground.

"Robby, look at me, tell me it's okay." — He requested. "I..." - he paused, completely rethinking that moment.

"Take me to the infirmary straight away."

Without saying anything else, she took him there, the silence killed them, I missed their diverse conversations. In the end, Robby felt a little hurt, beyond the physical.

"Tell me sweetie, why are you like this?" — asked the one with locks, bringing her fingers to the other's injured face. "I know you're strong and you'd take him down whenever you wanted."

"You. I'm like this because of you." — he took his arm away and threw himself on the sofa in the infirmary.

Karla, the nurse, was at least scared by how deformed Keene was, after all, he was at a school where practically every day there were around three students injured after a hidden fight. I'll get the ice. - was the only thing he said before leaving.

"What did I do, Robby"

"Everything, just answer me one thing before I tell you to leave this room and leave me alone." — He shouted. He was more upset than actually angry, in order to just take her away from his mind and heart for a few minutes.

"Am I what to you? Cheap fun, love." — he laughed to himself. "forget the last part, I must be some idiot that you only catch when you feel like it."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" — he raised his right eyebrow.

"I love you so much, and look, if I didn't show you signs of that, it's because I'm insecure. Robby, you have anyone at your feet, your exes are incredibly perfect, they fight well, they are beautiful... " —she sat next to him.

"I'm afraid of not being good enough like they were."

"I should slap you for thinking like that." — he joked.

Not that he had the courage to lift a finger at her, he loved her in a ridiculous way, which sometimes found it strange.

"I love you, I love you in a way that I've never loved anyone else and you can bet that you're the only one I want to have in my life, or better yet, build one."

"I called him, I'm not good enough to fight someone experienced yet." — she laughed, throwing his body against hers, to create a hug.

"You're over the top, Keene." — she leaned his torso, kissing the wound on the older man's face close to the wound.

"No, I'm just ridiculously in love with the new girl. In fact, how did you know the director was coming?"

"Needy. For you." - they laughed.

"Look, you kicked very well, I was quite jealous of what the highs were."

"I don't even know how I did that, I just wanted to protect you at any cost."

"Damn girl. I love you so much that I could go to hell just for you."

he didn't want hell, he wanted heaven, the roof of her mouth, to calm her busy and stressful days. The calm kiss, full of desire and passion no longer repressed, was everything they wanted and what they finally got.

[phyrestartr]

Love Is Alright | Sukuna x M!Reader

w/c: 1.9k #SFW, reader is early thirties, sukuna is mid twenties, reader is a uni prof, sukuna is a uni student, DON'T SLEEP WITH YOUR PROFS IRL PLS THANK YOU, questionable relationship, fluff, angst, self-deprecating reader, soft sukuna?, sukuna has daddy and mommy issues, TRIED TO EDIT BUT IM LAZYYY, uncle sukuna has entered the chat, ITTY BITTY YUUJI HAS ENTERED THE CHAT

tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork

You distanced yourself after the semester ended. 

It felt like your duty, honestly; your responsibility to Sukuna and his well-being hinged on what you could do to remedy the situation. He was a young man, scrambling to figure life out in his mid-twenties while you were failing at life and happiness in your early-thirties. You weren't a good role model. A worse partner. Terrible teacher. 

He'd get over that stupid fling in no time, anyway. Most of your exes did. You'd leave them, mourn them and the relationship, and then feel your heart break a hundred times harder when you found out they'd already moved on. Gotten married. Had kids. All while you hoped they'd come chasing after you. 

But this time would be different. You were protecting someone, someone you cared about. You didn't want to leave, to walk away for the summer, to let him move on peacefully and realize you were nothing but a kink, a fetishized visage of a man, but you had to–you didn't know what it was you'd done to fool Itadori Sukuna, but you had to save him from whatever it was. Because it was your fault. It had to be. 

So why was he knocking on your door? 

“Fucking finally,” Sukuna sighed. He leaned on the doorframe like he was from some 90s greaser film, but you had a feeling he was trying to stop you from slamming the door on his face. “Took you long enough.”

You cleared your throat and tried to ignore the way your heart did backflips in your chest. “I–uh. What're you–?” 

“I need a hand,” the man admitted. “I got midterms comin’ up and I can't fucking focus.” 

You noticed the rings around his eyes, then. You frowned and instinctively reached up, holding the side of his face to get a better look at him. It was hard to tell if he'd gotten in another fight or if he was just tired, but the way he sighed and leaned into your kind touch gave you your answer. 

“Can't focus?” You repeated as you stepped aside and gestured for him to come in. Apparently, you were still too weak to stand your ground and abide by your morals. “Why not–oh.” 

“Hewwo!” The little munchkin on Sukuna's back screeched (rather, he was sitting in Sukuna's unzipped backpack like it was some sort of baby carrier). He had bubblegum pink hair like the older, and his skin was just as tan, but his eyes were more hazel than the reddish brown of Sukuna's. Was he–could this kid be–?

“His name's Yuuji. Little shit's my nephew,” Sukuna lamented. “I have to play daddy for a while, ‘n not in a fun, sexy way.” 

Oh. Not his kid. Okay.

“Huh. Okay.” You closed the door and locked it, sealing away the chill of the rain from the warm, cozy atmosphere of your home. “For a second I thought your playboy antics had caught up with you.” 

“Tch.” Sukuna rolled his eyes and pulled his pack off, being careful not to send his nephew plummeting. He did, however, dump the boy onto the couch like he was an invincible sack of potatoes. 

“Sukuna, be careful--he's just a kid!” You scolded as you went to the teary-eyed little boy. 

“He cries ‘n shit for attention, trust me,” Sukuna scoffed before sitting down as well. “Besides, kids are made of rubber. He'll be fine.” 

“Mean!” Yuuji hollered, battering Sukuna's shoulder with little fists. “Meanie!” 

“Piss off or I'll punt you into the fucking fireplace.” 

“MEANIE.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you sighed, breaking up the spat. You looked to the little one and smiled when his big, honeyed eyes turned your way. You kind of related to his hopefulness, to his eagerness to find attention and be loved. 

“Yuuji, right?” You hummed as you went to him. “You hungry?” 

The boy lit up. “Ya!”

“Sukuna's hungry, too,” the older chipped in as he plopped his beat up, sticker-clad laptop onto the coffee table and popped it open.

You rolled your eyes and picked up Yuuji as soon as his grabby hands reached out for you. “Fine, fine. I’ll make enough food for three. You just make sure you do your schoolwork, Sukuna. You're not getting free babysitting just so you can slack.”

“Whatever, Mama,” Sukuna dismissed. 

But, he did what he was told. That was the whole point of bringing Yuuji here anyway; it wasn't just to weasel his way back into your life. He seriously needed a break from catering to the tiny, hyperactive tyrant while he was trying to finish his midterm paper. Yuuji was too much for a worn-out student like Sukuna. 

Still, being here, even though you took on the babysitter role without an ounce of resistance, made it hard to focus, too; you handled the little tot with so much ease and care it made Sukuna's head spin. The way you held him on your hip while you puttered around the kitchen, cooking and cleaning, was way too domestic and natural for a bachelor. Sukuna had to wonder if you'd taken care of kids before, or if you'd only dreamed of having your own.

“Focus, Sukuna,” you called from the adjacent room, sounding so pleased. It'd been a while since he heard you sound like that.

“Just making sure you're not cookin’ the runt,” Sukuna huffed. “‘N quit distracting me, asshole.” 

You laughed. Yuuji giggled. Sukuna tried to focus. 

–

Morning turned into afternoon. Afternoon turned into evening. And Sukuna was still somehow welcomed in your presence.

But the cold press of a beer can against his neck almost made him regret his decision to stay as long as he did.

“You're pretty good at taking care of runts,” Sukuna grumbled as he took the drink from you. You sat beside him, much to his delight, and popped open your own can as you settled on the couch. 

“Yeah, well. I, uh, used to take care of an ex's kid, so–well, I guess it just became second nature.” You smiled a little before sipping at your drink. “Don't really like random kids, though. Boyfriends’ are an exception.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked with a wolfish grin. “‘N so if you like Yuuji, then–”

“Hey, hey, let's not get ahead of ourselves here,” you sighed. “I'm not saying–this isn't–”

“You let me back into your life so fuckin’ easily,” Sukuna said, bulldozing over your words and confidence. His vibrant eyes danced over you like a flame caught in a storm until they eased onto your own, and settled down. “Now you're tryna back out again?” 

You gaped. Your mind scrambled for an excuse, for any sort of reason you could use to push him away again, yet found nothing. Nothing but a spark of warmth left by firelit eyes in the hollows of your chest. 

“When I was your age,” you found yourself saying, dreading the story you suddenly decided to relive, “I dated someone older. A lot older. He was–I thought I was in love, I guess. I don't know. I really needed someone to lean on. He seemed like a good person.

“But, in hindsight, he was too old to be messing around with me. Told myself it'd be alright since we were both legally adults. But it wasn't.

“He was, uh, kinda obsessive and possessive. Made life harder than it needed to be. Made me more miserable than I needed to be.”

You sighed and took a long drink of your beer. “‘N then you came along, and I had to wonder if I was gonna do the same thing to you, y’know? So, I…guess I've been kinda afraid of that.”

Sukuna quirked a brow and frowned “You're talkin’ like you're some kinda fucking villain.”

You laughed bleakly. “I feel like I am.” 

“Fucking hell, just shut up,” Sukuna groaned and ran a hand through his hair, exhausted and frustrated. “You think I'd let you fuck with me, huh? I’m the one who came onto you.” 

“I–well, sure, but I shouldn't be–”

“Shut up.” 

“Sukuna–”

“I'm not listenin’ to you yap. Can it.” 

You pursed your lips and hid as best as you could behind your can. “Uh. Sorry. Maybe?” 

“You're a real dumbass for such a glorified prof, y'know that? Projecting all that shit onto this.” Sukuna shook his head like a disappointed parent and finished off his can before setting it on the coffee table. “I want you ‘cause you thrill me, that's it.”

A fierce heat slapped you in the face. “Oh. Thrill you. That's–wow. Okay. How do I…?”

Sukuna grinned and scooted closer to you on the couch. “You got a nice ass.”

“Wow.” 

“Shut up, not finished,” Sukuna scoffed. “Nice ass, nice face, nice voice. You know way too much random shit for your own good. You have a trashy tramp stamp–”

“Please forget about that!” 

“--you can cook. Fuck, can you fucking cook. Bake, too. You know how to decorate a damn house, how to make me not wanna go.” He paused for a second and slipped his hand to your thigh, just to feel your warmth under his fingertips. “You make settling down sound like less of a chore.”

“N'awe, that was kind of sweet,” you said like he was a toddler confessing his love for you. 

Sukuna leaned in. “Think I might need a lil’ more sugar from ya.”

You hummed and smiled, leaning in as well. “Don't wanna give you a toothache.”

The man smirked and held the side of your face as his lips brushed against yours teasingly. “Think I'll live–” 

“NUH UH!” 

You both jumped and leaned away from each other before blinking owlishly at the tiny tot standing before you both in A-pose. 

Sukuna's eye twitched. “What the fuck, you little–”

“Yuuji, it's too late for you to be awake,” you scolded lightly. “How come you're awake?” 

“Yuuji pwotect,” he bravely declared as he scurried up onto the couch and onto your lap with a throw blanket in hand–the same one you'd used to tuck him in earlier. 

“Oh, protect me?” You asked, pulling the soft blanket up around him. “From your uncle?” 

“Uncle eevil,” Yuuji whispered. 

“I'm gonna eat you alive, runt,” Sukuna hissed. Luckily for the boy, there was no real fire behind the words–not that he had the brain peanuts to realize that as he started snuffling and tearing up.

“E-ead me..” Yuuji whimpered, hiding under his blanket. “Noh…”

“I'll protect you, Yuuji, you're alright.” You gave Sukuna a look as you patted the little one. “Did you have to threaten to eat him this late at night?” 

Sukuna waved his hand in dismissal. “Little shit cock blocked me. It's what he deserves.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” You looked down at the little nugget of a boy curled up your lap, kept safe under the shelter of a blanket. Damn, the little thing really was cute. You almost got ideas. 

“We should clock out, too,” you suggested with a yawn before prepping to pick up the sleepy potato in your lap. “It's late. You won't be able to do much more like this.”

“Ha? You think I'm an old fuckin’ geezer like you?” Sukuna scoffed. “I'm not even–I ain't–” he cut off with a yawn and threw you a middle finger. “Fuck you.” 

You got up with the freshly K.O-ed bundled baby tucked in your arms. “Come on, bed time.” 

Finally, Sukuna sighed, and nodded.

“Alright. Fine.”

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Ace would absolutely manhandle you without mercy

We've collectively agreed that the ASL brothers are very physically affectionate with each other right? Like Luffy will gomu gomu wrap around people and Ace will cling like a koala. Sabo’s the most normal of the three, but even then, he revels in the hugs and often initiates group hugs. No wait, anyone else see Sabo potentially tackling or tripping the other two into hugs?

now that that’s settled

Ace will absolutely, grab you like a barrel, or like a sack of potatoes and carry you around when he’s excited. The man is a One Piece man and he will manage to do it.

be prepared to be randomly thrown on his shoulder as he bolts about from one corner to another. He usually has enough decency to let you finish your conversations, but if he’s really excited? Yeah…feel free to get upset with him over that, he’s undermining you a bit

he’ll get it under control, for conversations. As for other situations? Like you just chilling? Yeah…

one time he gave you a surprise piggy back by getting under your legs and standing and you almost poked his eyes out trying not to fall. You almost choked him with your legs too. (Because I get the feeling people may have thought of this: yes he probably did enjoy the choking, but not the eye gouging) also you guys did topple over. He was very sorry.

That’s why you’re mostly a sack of potatoes though.

[itsnesss]

Heyy, can you do a miguel diaz x drunk reader? He is holding her hair back, making sure she doesn't text people, and cuddling. love you bye!!!

𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 | miguel diaz × fem!reader

summary | at the party, you get drunk and feel unwell. miguel, without judging you, stays by your side, taking care of you as you go through the discomfort and embarrassment of the situation

warnings | alcohol consumption and intoxication, vomiting, embarrassment, mild body discomfort, mild language

word count | 1.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

You're at a party at Miguel's house. A party that started like any other, with laughter, loud music, and the smell of pizza in the air. But now, the atmosphere has changed. People have scattered, some are dancing, others are talking in small groups. You… well, you don’t even know when you drank so much.

One drink after another, and here you are, a little dizzy, your head spinning like it's floating in the air. You feel light, but not in a good way. Suddenly, someone’s laughter brings you back to the present, and you realize you’ve wandered off from the group without noticing. Miguel is nearby, looking at something on his phone, as if waiting for you to do something.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone soft and concerned, yet with that usual playful touch.

You try to smile, but what comes out is more of a clumsy grimace.

“Of course, everything’s perfect,” you say, but your voice sounds more like a dragged whisper.

He looks at you, clearly unconvinced, and gestures for you to come closer.

“Come on, let’s sit for a bit.”

You agree, because what you want most right now is not to be standing, and you follow him to the couch where you slump down like a sack of potatoes. Miguel sits next to you but doesn’t say anything, just watches as you take your face in your hands, trying to clear the fog in your mind. You laugh, because apparently, alcohol has this ability to make you feel incredibly clumsy and at the same time hilarious.

“You know? I never thought you’d see me like this,” you murmur, watching how the lights in the room shine strangely, like they’re part of a dream.

Miguel doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he places a hand on your back, a gesture that feels more protective than anything else. You feel safe, despite being completely out of control.

“Why did you drink so much?” he asks, his voice mixed with a slight laugh, but with some concern.

You shrug, too drunk to really give a coherent answer.

“I don’t know, I just felt… I felt good, you know…” you stammer, but soon you feel the dizziness intensifying. Something inside you tells you this isn’t going to end well.

Before you can do anything, the sensation becomes more urgent, and a wave of nausea invades your stomach. In a blink, you cover your mouth with your hand, but it’s too late. The impulse is too strong, and your stomach churns. Unable to stop it, you lean to the side, vomiting on the floor nearby.

Miguel reacts immediately. He doesn’t step away, doesn’t criticize you. Instead, he gently places his hand on your back, rubbing it in circles, while you hold your head with the other hand, trying to keep things from getting worse.

“Calm down, everything will be fine,” he murmurs, and his tone has that warm, comforting quality, as if it’s no trouble for him to take care of you right now.

Your breathing is uneven, and the nausea doesn’t subside. You feel a mix of embarrassment and discomfort, but somehow, Miguel makes you feel less vulnerable. Someone else might be laughing or criticizing, but not him. He stays there, patiently.

When the vomiting finally stops, you sigh in relief and lean against him, too weak to move. Miguel quickly gets up, grabs a towel from the table, and wets it before placing it on your forehead, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I’ve got you, okay?” he says softly, rubbing your back as you settle back into the couch.

The lights keep flashing, but now, instead of seeming chaotic, they feel softer, as if the world has shrunk to just you and Miguel. You lie down a bit, seeking some relief, and the guy sits beside you, never moving an inch.

Sometimes, people get uncomfortable with drunk people. Some judge you, others walk away, but he… he’s just there, being Miguel.

“Do you have your phone?” he asks calmly after a moment of silence.

You force yourself to search for it, though your fingers aren’t managing to find the right way.

“I can’t…” you try to say, but your hands aren’t cooperating.

Miguel takes the phone from your hands, with the agility and care that only he knows how to use.

“Are you sending messages to someone you shouldn’t?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You frown. You don’t know why, but you feel the need to explain yourself.

“No… I don’t know, I think not…” you stammer, and although your words don’t make much sense, Miguel seems to understand perfectly what’s going on.

He checks your phone and smiles, as if he’s realized something you don’t understand yet.

“Don’t do it,” he says, showing you the message you just sent.

It’s a silly, nonsensical message, the kind you only send when you’re completely out of it. But you don’t feel too embarrassed, because Miguel is looking at you with a smile that’s warmer than mocking.

He takes the phone from your hands and puts it away, making sure you can’t do anything more with it. Then he turns back to you, and all you can see on his face is that affection with which he’s looking at you.

“I’m staying with you,” he says, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I don’t want you to do anything else foolish, okay?”

You slowly nod, and without saying more, Miguel helps you stand up, guiding you carefully to the bathroom. The air in the hallway is cooler, which gives you some relief. You don’t need to say anything; he understands what’s happening. Before you can process what’s going on, you’re already standing in front of the toilet, and a new impulse makes you lean over, your body rebelling once again.

Miguel doesn’t hesitate to follow you. As soon as you lean over the toilet, he’s there, behind you. With a swift movement, he holds your hair gently, moving it away from your face with the same tenderness he would use if he were caring for you under any other circumstances.

“Calm down, just keep breathing,” he says, his voice firm yet gentle, as if he were the only person who could calm you down right now.

The pain in your stomach is unbearable, but the warmth of his hand on your back gives you some comfort. You feel his touch like an anchor in the midst of chaos, a gesture that makes you feel safe, even when your body is struggling to maintain control.

Every time a new tremor shakes your body, he’s there, holding you, making sure you don’t fall into either embarrassment or discomfort. Meanwhile, his fingers keep rubbing your back in small circles, a soothing touch that helps you endure the pain and discomfort.

Time seems to stand still. Between the sounds of vomiting and the distant echo of the party music, the only thing you can hear is his calm voice, which somehow gives you the courage to keep going.

When the discomfort finally passes, you lean on the sink, breathing heavily but feeling relieved. Miguel stays by your side, with that understanding expression that never leaves his face. No matter how bad or embarrassed you feel, he’s there, never leaving.

“I feel so bad…” you murmur, exhaustion beginning to take over.

He looks at you and smiles, with a soft laugh that calms you down.

“Don’t worry, it happens to everyone at some point,” he responds, as if there’s really nothing to be embarrassed about. And in that moment, you realize he’s right.

He helps you get back up, guiding you to the couch, where you finally lie down, exhausted but more relieved than before. Miguel sits beside you, always close, always there.

“Don’t worry about anything,” he says, gently stroking your hair.

[writer-freak]

Spoiled Rafayel x bodyguard reader

Idea: Spoiled bratty rich girl x bodyguard who's forced to put up with it

Warnings: Gn reader, fluff, AU, strong reader, Rafayel being overdramatic, Rafayel being a tease and a bit of a brat, pretty short I just wrote down whatever came to me A/n: I had this little idea of for a spoiled rich girl x reader and who would fit better for this type of a scenario than Rafayel. Reader isn't really meant to be Mc and this is more of an AU. Maybe I'm gonna write some more for this idea as I find it pretty fun.l

"You're not carrying me?" Rafayel blinked at you, all wide, expectant eyes, his lips forming into a pout. "But my legs hurt."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Your legs don’t hurt. You just don’t want to walk."

He gasped, clutching his chest like you’d just stabbed him. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing? I—"

"You literally just told me that your custom-made boots are the most comfortable things you've ever owned."

"A betrayal of this magnitude... and from my own bodyguard!" He dramatically leaned against the nearest wall, resting the back of his hand on his forehead.

"Rafayel."

"Look at me, left to suffer. The streets are so—so dirty, and here I am, expected to walk like some commoner."

You were this close to walking away and letting him figure it out himself. But no, you were his bodyguard, and no matter how insufferable and annoying he was, you were stuck with him.

Unfortunately.

"Listen, your highness," you drawled, grabbing his arm and forcing him back upright. "You have two perfectly good legs. Use them. Or do you want me to throw you over my shoulder and carry you like a sack of potatoes?"

His eyes shined at that, a wicked smirk appearing on his lips. "Oh? How bold of you. Are you sure you can handle all this?" He gestured vaguely at himself. "I am quite the precious cargo."

You let go of his arm. "Walk."

"Ugh, fine." He sighed like you were asking him to climb a mountain instead of just taking a few steps. "But if my legs fall off, I hope you can live with the guilt."

This was your life. Babysitting a spoiled, dramatic, and entirely too attractive pain in the ass.

You weren’t sure exactly when things started to change.

Maybe it was the way he started listening to you more, actually taking your orders seriously instead of treating them like some funny suggestions.

Maybe it was the way he’d hover a little too close after a fight, his eyes scanning you for injuries, lips drawn into a rare frown.

Or maybe it was the way your heart didn’t jump in frustration anymore when he teased you, but instead, your heart jumped with some other more dangerous feeling.

"You know," Rafayel mused one day, sprawled across a luxurious couch while you stood stiffly by the door. "I think I've grown quite fond of you."

You arched a brow. "Oh? In a ‘you’re my favorite servant’ kind of way?"

He grinned. "In a my bodyguard is the only person I trust and also happens to be devastatingly attractive kind of way."

You stared at him. "Rafayel."

"Yes, my dear protector?"

You exhaled sharply, trying so hard not to let his words affect you. "You can’t just—just say things like that."

He tilted his head, his eyes glittering. "Why not? Does it fluster you?"

You turned away, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck. "I’m leaving."

"But who's going to protect me from all the dangers of the world that are out to get me?"

"You'll be fine."

"Wait, wait!" He scrambled up. "Fine, fine! I won't tease you. At leasdt not as much." He looked at you, his gaze softer now. "But you are my favorite."

You sighed, but this time, you couldn’t quite fight off the small smile tugging at your lips.

Maybe this job wasn’t so bad after all.

Divider by: @cafekitsune

[greenunoreversecard]

Kai,llyod, and Cole hc of them with a s/o that's kinda like a child of aphrodite from pjo? A bit more like piper though, they hate their gift and have to deal with cat callers alot?

I got cat called by way older men on the way home so this would be really comforting.

A/N:sorry it took so long to get this out for you. Ik my words can't offer much, but I'm sorry you get catcalled, it's not a fun feeling.

Sugar and spice-> Gn! Reader

individual headcanons of kai, cole and lloyd with a stunning S/O

Kai:

Kai, despite being extremely similar to his element in a multitude of ways, is an utter gentleman.

Hes always respectful of you, and makes sure to ask before he touches you in anyway, and is respectful with his eyes as well

With this said, as you guys grow close and start dating, he becomes uber protective of you.

He knows your very stunning.

And he knows others know that as well.

But alot of times, these people are creepy and go about saying: "hi, your outfit is cool" weirdly

And so he won't hesitate to punt a bitch into the sun

Most likely to throw a punch before a word leaves the creeps mouth.

And if your ever feeling gross and icky bc of the creeps?

Bros pulling out every stop.

Hes getting Zane to make a 10 course Michelin star meal, he's getting your comfort items, a hoodie (yours or his, doesn't matter) and he's becoming a 10/10 massager

Hes getting self care items, and a bath along with movies and cuddles with a side of shoulder to cry on

But if you get angry about the creeps??

He eggs you on. Agrees with you"YEAH BABE, FUCK THOSE ASSWIPES"

he will actively encourage any fist fights fights want to start with them

Hes your number 1 hype man, as well as comforter

Cole:

This man worships the ground you walk on. Just generally

Also drinks the respect tea (all of them do)

Hes always telling you how amazing you look, and even gives advice for anything you may need

Clothes? Food? Whatever hobby your working on?

He just has a eye for style of all categories

Hes generally also more down to earth, and realizes its much more than looks that makes a person

Which is why it takes him a bit longer to confess, as he wanted to get to know you better first (this man is demiromantic and demisexual)

Hes also fucking oblivious

So when people are more... sly about their intentions, like wording and such, he prolly won't notice

But the second he gets wind of what they are tryna pull

Hes super passive aggressive

And he slings a arm around your shoulder, or hides you behind him

Tries to talk it out first, and if they don't catch the hint they will catch his hands

Hes not... great with comfort tbh

His mom's dead and his dad's lowkey emotionally unavailable so he's not good at it

But he will rub your back when you cry, and buy takeout

He'll also prolly ask kai or Jay about how to comfort you better, bc both had either a sibling or parent.

He would ask Nya buts she's a younger sibling with a emotional brick wall of a brother so it's next to never she did some comforting.

Hes a little confused when it comes to comfort but Hes got spirit

Lloyd:

He has always been a little silly

So expect to bark at your aggressors

Idk why I just see him barking at your catcallers

Besides that

Hes always relied more on personality for if he likes someone, like cole

Not that kai doesn't care for personality he does, but looks plays a bigger factor for kai than they do cole and lloyd

Anyways

Off topic

Lloyd doesn't make a big deal how you look. Like doesn't comment on your outfits like cole.

Doesnt mean he doesn't think you don't look nice, bc he thinks you look lovely always

But moreso doesn't give a fuck

Wear a potato sack, or go naked, he doesn't give a fuck he just wants to get to the mall before it closes to he can check out the anime shops

He Def has a idrc additude, especially in dragon rising i feel, so I think if you want compliments you'd have to be outright about it, whereas the other two just kinda;"aww my partner is lovely🥰🥰"

And he's like;"babe, love you to bits and pieces but hurry the fucketh upeth I wanna get there before the fucking store closes"

And bc of that he's also the worst at comfort

Like he's always been told to suck it up so he kinda just is like... cool you done? And stands there awkwardly. He will get better with time, but please explain how to help better for future moments bc he was a Lil scared when you started crying.

Anyways back to the beginning about when mfs are being creepy

Barks at them

Fr barks

Bc it weird them out and he thinks it's funny

Or just tries to be as weird as possible

Like starts acting possessed

Crawls backwards on all fours like the lady from the ring or smth

If generally weirdness doesn't work he fights them

Though he tries to scare them off first

[beenbaanbuun]

mean yet soft w/ wooyoung

words - don’t ask, i don’t know

genre - fluffy smut

warnings - mean!dom wooyoung, also soft!dom wooyoung, face fucking, spanking, degradation, nicknames, aftercare, hes literally jekyll and hyde

not proofread but i’ll get round to it soon :)

so wooyoung is a little shit, but he isn’t evil

like he’ll tease you until the end of the earth, but the moment you get hurt by his words he’s clung to you like a koala telling you sweet nothings

and if that’s not enough, he’ll go one step beyond sane just to apologise to you

one second you’re pouting and the next he’s buying you flowers and cooking for you as an apology

not that he doesn’t do both of those things anyway

it’s just that when he’s trying to beg for forgiveness, he always goes a little overboard

you won’t be able to move without bumping into a bouquet of flowers, and you’ll actually have to beg for him to stop cooking for you because you’re way too full to eat most of it…

but something in my sick and twisted little brain i like to think that this applies to the bedroom too…

like imagine you’ve just pissed him off a little too much

bratted too close to the sun, if you will

the glare he gives you honestly makes you want to kneel down and beg but he won’t let you

not yet, anyway

because whilst you’ll definitely be knelt down in a second, letting him pound his pretty cock into your slack jaw, he has to make sure it doesn’t hurt you first

“kneel on the pillow for me, princess… that’s it, baby! we don’t want your pretty skin getting bruised, do we?”

and sure enough, there’s a plush pink pillow waiting for you

it’s almost heartwarming, until the second your knees hit the fabric and suddenly there’s a dick in your mouth pumping in and out like there’s no tomorrow

and then when he spanks you, you can guarantee he goes fucking hard

i’m talking trouble sitting down hard

red hand prints for days hard

tears streaming down your cheeks as he makes you count for him hard

and it hurts like fucking HELL and he knows that

but that doesn’t stopping from delivering soft kisses to the sweltering hot skin in between each spank

soothing strokes along your ass to make sure you know he’s not really mad

oh, and don’t get me started on the words he tells you…

he will call you every single name under the sun

bitch, whore, slut, dumb, so on and so forth

“fucking slut,” he spits, punctuating it with an extra hard thrust, “panting for me like a bitch in heat.”

and you are, you can’tdeny that

face pressing into the pillow, tongue sitting pretty on your bottom lip as you gulp in as much air as possible in between thrusts

his beautiful cruel words swim around your dizzy head, but before they even have chance to sink in, he’s letting you know just how much he loves you

“you’re a whore, aren’t you,” he grins as he nuzzles your cheek, “but that just makes me love you all the more. my whore, baby… all mine.”

and then the aftercare?

if you lift a finger, he’s going to place a curse on your entire bloodline because how dare you do his job?

he is supposed to be taking care of you, not you…

“hey, idiot,” he stomps over to the bed where he left you whilst he got water, “i thought i told you to sit still and let me do the work! why are you taking the sheets off?”

“felt dirty, youngie…”

he just rolls his eyes

“let me carry you to the bathroom, okay? i’ll sort the sheets…”

and youd better let him carry you to the toilet and sit you down (because you should be peeing after sex… no uti’s in this household)

if you don’t let him, he’s going to do it anyway

only rather than lifting you up gently, bridal style, you’ll be hoisted over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes

and you can complain as much as you want, but you can’t out-do the doer

you complain about him taking care of you, let him bring out a 40 slide power point about everything you do that annoys him that he’s been saving for this exact moment in time

like seriously, just let him do his job

it makes him feel better about being a dick

[skiiyoomin]

ʚCont: none, just tooth rotting fluff, gender neutral

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a/n this is just a short little drabble i made cause Kiri has been on my mind all morning thanks to the most adorable fanart i saw 🥹

If anybody asked Kirishima what one of his favorite moments with you is, he´d say it´s the little domestic routine the both of you created.

It didn´t take much to convince him that splashing water on his face and spraying 10 kilos of Axe deodorant wasn´t an actual skincare routine. Then again, he always gives in to you and to him your word is the law. If his pretty partner said he needed a real skincare routine, then that´s what he needed, no questions asked. But...what does he even have to do? He has no clue what each product is for, what order it goes in, he´s watched you do this millions of times, why can´t he remember? is-

"Baby, sit down please"

Your honey sweet voice snapped him out of his stupor, and obediently as always, he sat down on the vanity chair. His eyes were wide open and following your every move as you grabbed the countless bottles of god knows what. Whatever nerves he felt immediately eased away when you turned to him with that giddy smile on your face he loved so much. Oh how down bad he was for you.

You placed a beauty band on his head, pushing back his red hair that you loved running your hands through, though he´s sure he loved it more than you did. His eyes fluttered close when you began applying the products, your hands patting his skin gently.

He felt the liquidy coolness of the serums, and the hydrating feeling of the lotions and creams. He lost track of time, had it been 10 minutes? 5 minutes? Well, either way, he didn´t want that moment to end. The feeling of your soft hands touching his face in the softest manners made him feel like he could drop fast asleep right then and there.

The sound of your giggle made his eyes open once more, a sweet smile tugging at his lips. "What´s so funny sweetheart?" He asks, resting his hands on your waist and instinctively pulling you close.

You giggle once more, your own hands finding purchase on his jaw and tilting his head up. He looked up at you like you were his whole world, and you couldn´t help but feel your heart swelling with adoration for him. Your body answered before your mind could even think as your head tilting down to kiss his soft lips. He was always fully convinced your lips were an addiction, because when you began to pull away, he quickly leaned up chasing after your lips. A few more pecks afterwards, you fully pulled away and smiled down at him with the softest look in your eyes.

"I just think you´re cute"

Is it normal to feel so giddy inside? Well, he doesn´t really care.

"Me? Cute? You got that wrong, you´re the cute one"

He says teasingly whilst tickling your sides. You squeal and try to pull away from his touch, but alas, all those hours at the gym weren´t for nothing. The joyous sound of your laugh made Kirishima feel like he was in heaven, a laugh errupting from his own throat.

"No! You´re cute!"

You scream out between laughs and squeals. His strong arms engulf around you and pick you up with ease, carrying you over his shoulder. He spins around until you screech. "Put me down put me down!"

He gently sets you back down on your feet and cackles at the way your air looked like it went through a tornado and the way your cheeks were flushed. He leans down to press kiss after to kiss to the soft skin of your face, murmuring in between "You gonna admit you´re cuter? Or you wanna be a sack of potatoes again"

You giggle at the ticklish feeling of his skin on yours. And as prideful as you were, you in fact did not want to be slinged around like that again. "Fine fine"

"Good" He says, pulling away and giving you some space. Wrong move, because in that small space, you quickly ran off while waving your crossed fingers around "I lied!"

It didn´t take long for him to snap out of it and quickly chase after you. Oh you were so going to pay for that.

Yup, these were definetly his favorite moments with you.

[celaenaeiln]

Please talk more about B & D’s “unable to be defined/labeled dynamic/relationship as it encompasses many labels yet at the same time cannot be fitted to just one label” dynamic 🙏

I'd be delighted to!!

Link to original post

In the previous post I had included a panel where Bruce is referred to Dick as his "surrogate father, mentor, friend, and partner." These words could not be more different from each other and while they should not be used in conjunction with each other, they have never suited these two people more. In fact I don't there is any character pairing in any fandom that has the same dynamic that these two have. Dick and Bruce's relationship has a complicated depth to it that Bruce and the rest of his children don't have.

I think the most confusing thing is when Bruce constantly confuses Dick being a son and a partner.

First thing I want to start off with is that Dick and Bruce used to sleep in beds so close together it looks like one bed. In the 1950's this arrangement was known as the "twin beds" which were typically used for married couples. Children slept in a separate bedroom which begs the question why Dick and Bruce had a sleeping arrangement similar to that of marriage partners. This is the first weird thing about their relationship.

Not to mention, the romantic boat rides they used to take together. But was this normal then between father and son or is it just a romantic thing now, I don't know. As well as when they decided bronzing themselves naked next to each other. Not really sure what was going on there, if it was acceptable during that time or what but I do know that the reason that creators decided to send Dick to college in 1970 was because they wanted to beat the gay batman and robin allegations. It's weird as hell that they even came up with these ideas. Also the robin crossdressing. For justice, am I right?!

I feel these instances are important because it breaks any barriers they have between them. They're so (platonically for me) intimate that there's nothing but each other in their souls. One of the key reasons that their relationship is vague and intense and encompassing.

Dick is also considered Bruce's partner intellectually.

Instead of Dick listening to Bruce and following behind, as it's often shown in robin comics, they talk on equal terms. There's other moments of this shown too:

I think this is the reason why Bruce considers Dick a partner. He's not only exceedingly intelligent, but he even at a young age he's able to keep up with Bruce's thought process as an equal when even the justice league and other major adult heroes fail to do. Bruce's inventions are Dick's inventions because they played an equal role in creating them. This is why he's called the Prodigal Son.

Now onto him being a best friend and a son mix.

We know the classic example of Dick expecting to be Bruce's best man and Bruce thinking the same. But there are other moments that indicate that too.

But it isn't one sided because Dick also sees Bruce as his best friend:

Dick punching Bruce in the throat and single handedly carrying him like a sack of potatoes is just funny as hell.

Also including the fact that Dick and Bruce embody sleepover, besties behavior:

BUT HERE'S WHERE IT GETS JUICY.

Having your child act as your bestfriend is terrible for your child's mental health.

I'm speaking from personal experience but when your parent trauma dumps their life onto you at a young age, you mature emotionally much faster than you're supposed. You start becoming aware of people's thoughts and emotions at a deeper level and you start attuning yourself to others. In layman's terms: you change yourself to be able to meet your parent's high expectations and act as an emotional sponge for their anger, sorrow, disappointment, and frustration about their own life.

I'm not hesitant to admit that Dick's manipulation tactics most likely stem from this behavior. He knows what he wants and he will do anything to get it. This doesn't mean he's a bad person though. In fact I give him the highest level of respect of any character because all his intentions are good. He doesn't cheat, lie, or trick people into killing themself or harming others or bringing them down. He does it to make their lives better which is-I'm sorry, I don't have the proper words to express the multitudes of emotion I'm feeling for that.

(I nearly went into a massive monologue about how other people view his manipulation but that's for another post. )

This is also where things get complicated, and why we know Bruce and Dick as the way they are.

Dick has become so emotionally and mentally adept that he's able to pick up on others' thoughts and attitudes (Bruce specifically) before they even realize them. This is why Bruce is so dependent on Dick for everything. In one comic Garth says "Dick's a good listener."

I'm going to deviate for a minute here and include a panel that shows how this personality trait affects Dick's other roles:

Speaking more about Bruce's impact on Dick, there's this:

Aside from the huge ass painting on the wall of just the two of them-the panel is another perfect example of the complicated depth to them. They see each other as equals and when something interferes with that perception, then they start having problems. It haunts Bruce that the 8yr old he took in is equally matched to him in skill and ability but he also recognizes that Dick is too young to be able to do so. He should not have to experience the pain and responsibility of an adult but Bruce can't just get rid of him because Dick is the only one capable of keeping up with him. His heart also breaks when Dick is away (he starts crying in a panel multiple panels as Dick is leaving). For Dick he's already far used to the roles and responsibilities that he doesn't consider his age a factor as to why Bruce refuses to let him do the same things. This is a source of miscommunication between them. Bruce knows Dick can succeed at anything given to him but feels he shouldn't have to deal with those things. And Dick doesn't understand the hesitance when he's proven to have accomplished those tasks and greater before.

To expand, Dick's relationship with Bruce reminds me of Slade's relationship with Billy Wintergreen when Deathstroke tells him "You've been with me through everything...but now I have to say goodbye when you're unconscious or else I can't do it." Or something along those lines, the vibes are the same.

Oh yes, and this scene too:

Which mimics a lot of the confusion other characters have over Dick and Bruce's relationship.

But the difference between Slade and Billy vs Dick and Bruce is that Dick and Bruce's relationship is blurred on ALL fronts. There's not a single moment where Bruce has viewed Dick strictly as a son.

This leads me into the mentor aspect.

Note: while Dick knows Bruce the best, Bruce also knows Dick the best of all his children. There's a certainty to the way he speaks about Dick's abilities that he lacks when discussing his other sons'. That doesn't mean he doesn't know what they can do-he well aware and knowledgeable-it just means that his relationship with and understanding of Dick far exceeds what he has with the others.

Holy crap there's so much I'm bouncing all over the place-let me go back for second to partners.

Everyone knows this iconic scene whether you're in the fandom or not:

But few people know what comes next-

From the dawn of Batman and Robin comics, Batman has been obsessed with controlling Dick. I don't understand why he doesn't use his manipulative tactics on anyone else. There's a comic panel where Dick tells Barbara, "...you and Bruce don't need to manipulate me into doing what you guys want." It was always his way or the highway with him and Bruce reflects on this again in Batman and Robin Eternal. Dick also tells Bruce he's being pig-headed during the 1966 comic version of the Warner Brother's film and when Bruce asks him "Am I really pig-headed?" Alfred goes "hell yeah." Essentially.

(Also going to sneak this in as another example of why Dick wasn't an angry robin to a previous post

)

Ofcourse Bruce seems him as a son too:

THE FULL ON SMILE HE HAS ON HIS FACE JUST LISTENING TO DICK TALK!!!

Also in the linked previous post there's the panel of Bruce begging the judge not to take away his son from him. "Dick is like my own son!I've even changed my will so that incase of my death, Dick will get my entire fortune! You honor, I...I love that boy! Please don't take him from me!"

We already know many references about Dick being labelled Dick's son so I'll leave this aside for now.

Now here's the main point- the way Bruce and Dick interact with each other has so much history they're unable to explain themselves to others or each other. There's so many complex emotions between the two of them that sometimes even they're confused.

But seriously. What is your obsession with Dick, Bruce?

Lemme explain.

As everyone knows Dick and Clark are best friends. They are so close to the point where Bruce actually sweeps the stuff off his desk in the batcave and says "LET ME JUST GET RID OF ALL OUR TROPHIES. I'LL JUST MAKE ROOM FOR THE ADVENTURES OF SUPERMAN AND ROBIN INSTEAD!"

WTFFFFF BRUCE. WHY ARE YOU GETTING JEALOUS OF YOUR 15YR OLD'S FRIENDSHIP?

Oh, yes, what trophies am I talking about? Trophies of their battles together of course!

Which means the batcave is memorabilia of their time together. You know what that also means? It means that Bruce sulks in the Batcave because in the cave, he can literally surround himself with the time he spent with Dick.

Bruce is so abnormal about Dick. He sees Dick as an all in one. Every single relationship category you can think of, Bruce has bundled it up and put it into Dick. If all their various relationships became a physical string, Bruce would have a leash on Dick that resembles a thick, corded rope. So if you cut one thread of, say, friendship, the rope won't tear become the other threads of partnership, family, and other ambiguous threads would still hold them together.

Bruce has a leash on Dick but something Dick doesn't know and Bruce won't admit is that Dick has a leash on him too.

HERE'S THE INSECURITY WITH DICK AGAIN. THE MAN THINKS THE WORLD OF DICK BUT HE'S HORRIFIED AT THE THOUGHT, AT THE POSSIBILITY, THAT DICK DOESN'T FEEL THE SAME OF HIM.

He's constantly seeking reassurance of his place with Dick through the only way he knows how-manipulation. While Bruce consistently distances himself from his son, he's doing it on purpose so Dick will come running back to him. I mean-isn't that what he did with Jason? Expelling Dick in fury and fear and not telling Dick about taking in a new robin?

In the comic Dick drops by and tells him "I found out through a newspaper and since I haven't been robin..." to which Bruce responds horrified and guilty. He knows what he's doing. He just doesn't want to get caught as to why.

Others have picked on this obsession he has with Dick too:

Someone clearly knew the importance of Nightwing to Batman. They knew what his death would do to him. And in response Bruce went out of his way-to a foreign land-just to take revenge on the man who almost took “his boy” away from him. Leaving with a parting promise, an oath, to hunt down the other one and leave him crippled for life too. Did Batman know KG Beast would survive or did he just leave it up to fate?

In the previous panel, apart from KG Beast calling Dick "your boy" to Batman, it's only implied though. So how do we know if Dick really does have that much weight to Bruce? Well not only is it confirmed, it is engraved in stone:

And when the blast nearly kills Dick, Bruce nearly kills the man who did it. WITH A GUN.

Also him trying to strangle Lex Luthor to death before Lex chokes out in between stolen gasps that Dick's not actually dead but he will be if Bruce continues.

Did you know that the dead Robin in the Superman vs Batman movie was confirmed to be Dick? Yeah. That says a lot right there.

Brothers

I'm not going to get into their brother relationship because that involves how Alfred treats Dick as a son rather than a grandson and is opening a whole new mansion of stuff so I'm going to wrap this up here and say the two of them are a LOT.

Bruce and Dick's relationship is impossible to define and that's why they keep ending up fighting. Their relationship doesn't have clear boundaries and since each type of relationship (brotherhood, father/son, partnership, friendship, colleagues, idols&pedestals) has it's own unique problems, and because the two of them alone are all those things, they have all the problems of each of these categories combined. But they also have all the benefits. Inseparably entwined these two.