#the man dressed like a bat asked what’s normal

[letoasai]

dp x dc Chronos part 2

Part 1  and Part 3 

The Justice League sat in the Watchtower, some of them at least. The meeting was meant to be a quick one, only certain members in attendance to make sure they were all on the same page after the debrief of the last mission. Not all of them were necessary and most were usually busy. 

Today Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash and Green Lantern were in the middle of wrapping things up when the alert sounded. The siren blared twice before the red lights in the corner of each room flashed in an emergency.

“What in the world…” Flash grumbled but was obviously the first to the controls to look for the problem. None of the main alarms had been triggered, none of the doors messed with. No unusual motion noted in parts of the station that were currently vacant. “Weird.” 

“What is it?” Batman was next beside him, arms crossed as he peered at the screen with narrowed eyes. 

“It’s the sensors.” Flash said. “We’re picking up some kind of  interference.” 

“Way up here? What kind?” Green Lantern asked, he’d moved to one of the wide windows of the viewing deck as if he would be able to see something approaching. As things were, there was nothing but the normal vastness of space with Earth to one side.

“No idea.” Flash said. “Never seen something like this before.” 

“Any idea on a location?” Superman asked, appearing by Green Lantern’s side. 

Flash just clucked his tongue, hitting buttons much faster than a normal person. It was almost an irritation that he had to wait for the computer to keep up with him. “I mean, there’s nothing exactly to track yet.” 

“An anomaly then.” Wonder Woman said, leaning back against the conference table they’d all just been sitting around. “Something natural?” 

“There’s nothing natural about this.” Batman said, tone skeptical as he gazed at the screens. 

“Gonna side with that bat on this one.” Flash said, “It’s more like a warning before anything happens. Something setting off the sensors but nothing else? Feels like it was on purpose.” 

Green Lantern rolled his eyes. “What, like something’s knocking before they make themselves known?” 

Before anyone could even offer their opinion on what they thought of something so ridiculous, a spark of green ripped through the air like lightning. Just as quickly it spread out into an obvious portal. Every member of the Justice League sprang into position, circling the phenomenon to block it in from every direction. Things like this shouldn’t have been possible, but it wasn’t the first time an intruder had gotten creative to get inside the Watchtower. 

Without any fanfare, a man stepped out. They presumed it was a man anyway. He was dressed in mostly shades of purple other than his leather boots and gloves. He was covered by a cloak and hood, but when he looked up, it was hard to say what about him was the most unsettling. The red eyes. The blue skin. The pendulum clock that set back into his chest so far that he could only be missing crucial organs. 

“Who are you?” Superman demanded, quickly trying to assess if there would be a fight or not. 

“How did you get here?” Batman said right after, gravel tone somehow more frightening because he was calm. 

The intruder just gestured with his thumb at the portal behind him. “Thought it was rather obvious.” 

“Your purpose?” Wonder Woman asked, looking relaxed but her body was tense and ready to react in a moments notice. 

“My purpose?” He chuckled quietly. In his hand was a staff they’d almost missed before, the top of it cradling a clock. It seemed to be a theme given the number of watches and clocks he wore. “I’ve come to call in a favor. The Justice League owes me several.” 

“We owe you? Ppfff. Yeah right. We don’t even know who you are.” Flash rolled his eyes.

The intruder turned to the Flash, his brow raised. “Speedster, with the amount of times you’ve dabbled in the time stream, you alone owe me your life a fair few times.” 

“Time, huh?” Green Lantern looked him over. There were a lot of clocks... “Guess that’s your schtick.” 

He chuckled again. “I go by many names, only one will be relevant to you today.” He turned his attention onto Wonder Woman who squared up under his gaze. If she was going to be his focus then she’d take him head on. 

“And?” She arched a brow at him. “What name may we call you?” 

He looked amused, red eyes filled with mirth. “You, Diana, may call me grandfather.” 

The room stilled, the others looking around in varying degrees of confusion while Wonder Woman just paled. 

“Chronos. God of time…” she muttered, making it very clear to the team what they were dealing with. A God. 

“I go by master of time these days, but yes. I am that Chronos. I have a task for you, Diana. One i do not think you will turn down but i’ll give you the illusion of choice.” Chronos said, the minute and hour hands on his staff moving strangely. 

“You’re a god, and you come to us for help?” Batman asked, unimpressed no matter the glowers he was being sent by the others. 

“You are the Justice League, aren’t you?” Chronos looked pleased. “Righting wrongs. Defending Earth. Justice is in the name and everything.” 

He didn’t talk like a god. He didn’t even talk as formally as Wonder Woman herself tended to occasionally. 

“Doing tasks for you is asking for trouble.” Wonder Woman muttered. She’d heard stories, so many stories. 

Chronos shrugged. “Time is messy. Keeping it in line is difficult. Especially when there are those who mess with it who should not.” He was not above verbally throwing speedsters under the bus.

“What do you want?” Green Lantern asked, obviously suspicious but paying very close attention. 

“Simple.” Chronos answered, still looking at his granddaughter. “You will take custody of your uncle for a time. He needs a safe place to rest and live.” 

The silence that followed was loud, no one knowing what to make of that. Wonder Woman herself looked puzzled. 

“Are you claiming a sibling of Zeus needs a babysitter?” 

Chronos hummed. “He is my son though he holds no biological relation to your father, i suppose.” 

“Then how is he her uncle?” Flash asked, with a hint of sass. 

“You can ask Batman how it works.” Chronos mused, saying all he would say on the matter but that was enough. 

Wonder Woman couldn’t fathom what kind of person her grandfather would see fit to adopt. “Are you going to tell me more?” 

“Telling you more would imply you were agreeing to the task.” 

She tsked. “None of your word games. I want to know what i could be walking into.” 

Chronos never once looked threatened or put out, he did however, appear to look a few years older than he had when he’d first appeared. “He recently needed to be removed from his home for his safety. He can easily visit me but staying with me long term at this time is not beneficial to him for health reasons.” 

Superman frowned. “Removed from his home? How old is he?” 

“Sixteen. If that is all you need to know, i will fetch him. It may take some time for him to regain consciousness.”  Chronos said. 

“He’s been hurt?” Batman was frowning at the thought, looking more and more unhappy as the conversation progressed. 

“I did say he was removed from his home.” Chronos said, almost flippantly as he stepped back into his glowing green portal. It remained open, everyone exchanging looks. 

“Diana, is this a good idea?” Superman asked, willing to accept her judgment. Greek gods were more her wheelhouse. 

“Chronos was a titan. Is a titan?” She frowned. “His power is immense for a being thought to be killed.” 

“Something about him is off.” Batman agreed. “He was not worried at all. That is someone aware they have the upper hand.” 

Wonder Woman just nodded her agreement. Chronos was the god of time. There was no telling what he knew. “I’ve never met him before.” 

“Hell of a time for family reunions.” Flash snarked, heading back to the controls to see what readings they could get on the floating portal. It was obvious each of them wanted to study it in their own way. Scans and samples were first on their minds but it was clearly some kind of magic they weren’t familiar with. 

It was almost a shame there wasn’t a single member from JLD currently in the Watchtower. They might have been able to provide answers. 

Before much of anything could be done, Chronos returned, somehow looking several years younger than when he first appeared. In his arms was a lanky teen, cradled carefully as if he were fragile. He was equally a sight that left the League speechless. He wasn’t blue, in fact he looked more or less human other that the freckles that shined. 

Superman was the one to immediately note they were constellation patterned. 

His hair was a stark white that wisped and flowed as if he were under water. His clothes were strange, a detailed variation of an old hazmat suit, all done in black and white. Floating above his head was a crown that didn’t seem to know if it wanted to be on fire or covered in ice. It bobbed back and forth and even did a slow flip in the air but never left the area about the boy’s head. 

When no one uttered a word, Chronos took that as permission to begin the introductions. “Diana, this is your uncle. Danny Phantom. Son of the Stars. The Personification of Balance. The Ghost King. High King of the Infinite Realm.” 

“He’s a king?” Batman frowned. “He’s a boy.” 

“He could be both, Bats. He’s got a crown.” Flash chuckled softly. 

Chronos shared his amusement. “I did say he was only sixteen.” The god paused for a moment as the teen twisted in his arms, his face pressed against Chronos’ shoulder and a hand lightly pressed against the door of the clock embedded into the man’s chest. 

The fact that, even asleep, the boy was comfortable in the gods arms didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Is he injured?” Wonder Woman asked. They’d gone over this already but he didn’t look actively wounded. He seemed to be sleeping only. 

Chronos grunted once. “One form heals faster than the other. He needs rest, ambient ectoplasm which he knows how to get on his own, and food. He can answer your questions if he feels like it.” 

“If he feels like it?” Green Lantern frowned. 

“He’s the King.” Chronos’ lips twitched in amusement again. “If he decides to tell you more, or seek help, that is his decision.” 

“Seek help?” Batman’s eyes were narrowed. “Seek help for what?” 

Chronos approached and shifted the teenager into Wonder Woman’s arms. His crown shifted back and forth but never left the teen. The grip he had on the god wasn’t noticed until he tried to pull away and Chronos needed to carefully extract the boy’s hand. 

Ignoring Batman, he pressed on. “He’ll need to follow up with his doctor by the end of the week. He’ll know how to do that. If he doesn’t, his doctor will come to him. That should be incentive enough.” 

“Does he know you’re dropping him off here?” Superman asked, brows knitted together in concern. The heroes had been expecting a fight, not to be handed a royal teen. 

“He has a fondness for for space, so you might want to let him wake up here.” Chronos said instead, ignoring that question too. He was growing older again, a short, white beard starting to form.

“How long will he need to be in my care?” Wonder Woman asked, noting the boy weighed very little in her arms. In sleep his features were soft, hopefully he was as sweet as he looked. 

“Good luck.” Chronos said, staff reappearing in his hand now, turning back to the portal without giving her an answer. 

“Hey! Wait!” Flash yelled but for once, he was too slow, the god and the portal disappeared. 

Five members of the Justice League just stood in a mild stupor, their attention shifting to the sleeping teen. 

“Well…” Superman muttered. 

Wonder Woman looked at the boy, floating hair and crown moving in tandem. “I’ll set him down. We’ll see if he can answer any of our questions when he wakes up.” 

“You gonna call him Uncle Danny?” Flash asked, not bothering to hide his smile. 

Wonder Woman just ignored him and turned to stride off towards the med-station. -------------------------

------------------------- No idea at all if i’ll continue this. If anyone else wants too, go for it. ^_^

@markus209

#dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #clockwork #justice league #Looks like Wonder Woman is Danny's guardian now #Danny Phantom #wonder woman

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny died young. That wasn't what made him powerful. No, but it was part of it. His obsession was Protection due to that being one of the only forms of love he ever received. His parents swearing to protect him from monsters that they never found and his sister protecting him from his parents more...extreme actions.

He died at 6 and if there was one lesson he had learned from his short life, it was that to love was to protect and to be loved is to be protected.

So Danny, ever the explorer, had spent another 6 years after death wandering around the zone and saving people. One day he slipped out of the Infinite Realms and into a new reality but he didn't expect to see a kid around his own age dressed in black and red.

The kid jumped from rooftop to rooftop, doing flips and handsprings with a small smile on his face. Danny stared at him wide eyed while standing frozen on the ground like an idiot. Just like that, Danny developed his first crush.

Following behind the kid was a large man in a gray and black outfit. Supervillian? He watched as this guy jumped from rooftop to rooftop running after the kid.

Danny almost blasted the guy right then and there if it wasn't for the kid turning around and talking to him. Eavesdropping wasn't exactly polite but Danny needed to know if he needed to rescue his crush this kid. Luckly it didn't come to that as "Batman and Robin" discussed a case and left.

Later, back in the IR, Danny was caught by Kitty while he was picking flowers. Upon asking what he was doing he stated the obvious. This of course, led to Kitty following Danny back to Gotham and getting front roy seats to Phantom popping his head up from the rooftop while Robin was running and startling him.

Robin got into his battle stance alongside Batman, all the while Danny didn't ride up from the roof any farther than his shoulders. Danny was too nervous to say anything and just blushed before he chucked the bouquet at Robins feet and bolted.

Robin jumped back, fully expecting the object the kid threw to be a weapon or explosive of some kind. Even after realizing they were flowers and the other kid was gone they still suspected it might be a trap.

Eventually they brought the glowing flowers to the batcave where they were examined. Alfred took the liberty of putting the ones that weren't being examined in a vase.

"I don't get it. Was he trying to send a message? I don't even recognize any of these flowers, what was he trying to tell us?"

"If I may, Master Tim." Alfred interrupted the boy, "Is it possible he gave you flowers for another reason? One more...mundane?"

------

Aka Danny gets a big ole crush on BTAS Tim and the other ghosts coo at Danny for "baby's first crush"

The bats are never normal so they're absolutely convinced Phantom is up to no good

#dp x dc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #batman the animated series #tim drake #robin #robin iii #robin tim #danny is stalking Tim but convinces himself its okay cause hes protecting Tim #so weird stuff keeps happening around tim both in and out of costume #bruce is losing it especially after tim compares Phantom to an angel and Phantom being an idiot says hes more of a demon logically #up to you if the other ghosts try to help

[canyourfavesurvivecastledracula]

Okay, so might have been asked before, but Bruce Wayne.

Not Batman. Just Bruce Wayne, little to no tech, Brucie persona in full swing...maybe he's there for some really weird gala or something and is now stuck and doesn't want to blow his cover.

@beabaseball  asked:

Would Bruce Wayne (Batman) survive Count Dracula? He's scared of bats!! :(

@goldenzingy46  asked:

could batman survive castle dracula? (either in costume or out of it)

@major-knighton  asked:

Could Batman survive Castle Dracula?

Anonymous asked:

I'm sure this has probably been asked, but I couldn't find it via blog search. Could Batman survive Castle Dracula? (Any iteration, with or without Batfam members.)

Ahahahahaha Brucie Wayne, billionaire playboy and Gotham's favoritest darling himbo. Yes good!

I gotta tag @unpretty in this. We all know tumblr batman is the best batman.

As to beabaseball's concern: poor Brucie! He is so afraid of bats! Fortunately for him, Dracula does all his bad batting about in England - he doesn't actually shapeshift at any point in the Castle, presumably for the same reasons he's presenting as Old AF and climbing his own walls like a lizard. Maybe some exceptionally rich blood will help him out with that actually. And for what it's worth, Jonathan does not describe any natural bats frequenting Castle Dracula either. There's nothing alive in the Castle (the wolves, of course, being Outside the Castle). Now would he count things like bats and vermin? He describes the womens' quarters as moth-eaten, so there must be like...moths. (Unless Dracula Did That I suppose). But I am not sure whether that tells us there could be bats and they just weren't worth mentioning, or that there aren't bats because if there were they would have eaten the moths.

I am going to say that there are no bats of any kind at Castle Dracula, so poor Brucie won't have his childhood trauma triggered in that way. I'm sure watching a mother get devoured by wolves won't- yeah.... he's not gonna like this. Sorry Bruce buddy you're in the Dying Parents novel. Whoopsie daisy.

Look there are reasons why Brucie is Gotham's favorite idiot son. He's a good boy. Of course he accepts the crucifix - it's for his mother's sake! Being given a lot of flowers is nothing unusual for him but he accepts them graciously as well. He tips the coachman handsomely (the coachman turns a little green at accepting his money, but Mr Wayne is just so earnest and, he rationalizes it later, it's not like the doomed young man is going to have any further use for it...), and Dracula's Calèche driver as well. He's so sloshed on Slivovitz by the time they get to the Castle (impressive since the bottle appears not to have been opened) that he tries to tip him in real silver (lol classic Brucie having no idea of the value of things - where did he even get that?). He even tries to tip Dracula when he answers the door, presuming him to be the butler. (No, it is late and my servants have all gone to bed. Really? My butler keeps such consistent round-the-clock hours that the tabloids keep asking me if he's a vampire, haha, but I guess he's something special).

On that note, this strange nighttime existence is nothing that out of the ordinary for the billionaire playboy lifestyle. Brucie frequently sleeps in till 2 under normal circumstances - it's not like he needs to get up early to drive his kids to school, he has drivers for that (no one is really sure if Brucie even knows how to drive). Dracula actually finds it a little off-putting how blithely cheerful he remains, almost as if he too is a creature of the night who cares little for the bright voluptuousness of youth ... or maybe he's just that dumb. When Dracula tried to sneak up on him making his toilet he found him actually trying to put his trousers on backwards (and turning around so much in the effort that the sneaking up was harder than Dracula anticipated - Brucie awkwardly explains that his butler usually dresses him, leaving Dracula morbidly fascinated about how he's even alive still).

I... am not sure how the shaving scene goes. I shouldn't think he would startle enough to cut himself. Or might he cut himself on purpose just to see how Dracula reacts? If Dracula makes a grab for his throat dies he blow him a kiss and say "buy me a drink first, darling" ? Did he pack extra shaving mirrors, making Dracula go :/ and consider stealing his stuff early?

Dracula retires muttering each morning "is he as stupid as he seems?? Nobody could be as stupid as he seems..." But he invites him to stay another month and write some fake letters and Brucie is like "who me?? My secretary writes my letters I wouldn't know how to begin" and Dracula has no idea what to do with that. Climbing the walls doesn't bother him, he's from Gotham, people climbing about on walls is your typical Tuesday. In fact, nothing Dracula does seems to get to him and it's getting really frustrating. At one point Dracula cautiously asks him why he's so chill and he's just like "oh you know it's not so different from home, only there we've got this evil clown that murders people. Well that's what they say at least. But my ward Dick, you know, he came from the circus? And apparently murdering people is against the Clown Code so, between you and me, I don't think he exists." And Dracula's just sitting there like "wait what" but also "that doesn't follow at all and I am fascinated by how your brain works" and because Dracula's a cocky SOB he's like "so you don't believe in evil clowns but do you believe in vampires?" And Brucie is like "well everyone says the Batman is a vampire but personally I think the news media made him up like Bigfoot and Armadillos." And Dracula's just like ...wat.

Brucie definitely ends up in the ladies' wing (it's amazing where that man randomly ends up. He gets lost on the way to the bathroom. Maybe he genuinely thought it was his own room). Is he sleeping... or only pretending to? Either way the Girlies aren't the first Femme Fatales to have him under their spell (he's been hypnotized so much...) - but on the other hand he's probably still wearing the crucifix. I don't think that will interrupt the trance though, which might before the best because child death is one of the things he's sensitive about. Dracula carries him back to his room and is like "dang is it just the fact that I've been fasting or is this soft socialite built like a brickhouse???"

So I think Bruce would know better than to remove the crucifix, as I've said, and I also think he'd figure out a way to set an hourly alarm on his watch to break him out of future trances - but does he have the data to figure out the sonic component based just on May 16th or does he need the barking dogs on June 24th as well. I would be willing to give him the possibility of actually being able to understand the Hetman, and also putting together that the people camped out in Dracula's courtyard are probably working for Dracula. Does this mean he won't try to send coded letters - or that he will try, to find out if they get passed to Dracula?

.......okay I don't think he's going to let Dracula get away with going into town with his babysnatching sack. I think when he sees that he's going to act. (Now obviously no one is going to mistake Dracula for him even wearing his suits because the butts don't match). So what does he do? Does he follow him?? Like, I am confident in his ability to make it down the wall even without a grappling hook. He's a whole ninja after all. The Girlies are like ....wait where'd he go? I actually don't know how Dracula effects his babysnatching. I think the funniest option I'd for Bruce (master of disguise) to dress up in Dracula's things (you know how he loves a good cape) and go frighten the villagers first so that they're on high alert when Dracula turns up and he can't find any babies to snatch. I don't know how he could get there first though. His best option is to tail Dracula and then sabotage his efforts by like... knocking over trashcans and things. I dunno. This has kinda gotten away from me.

Okay so assuming he succeeds... what does Dracula do if he can't get a baby? He's got some very opinionated mouths to feed. Maybe he's finally had enough and is like "fine, you can eat the himbo, I'm leaving in a week anyway" and the Girlies are like "so... about that... we tried while you were out (what!?) and he's not here" and Dracula is like "what do you mean he's not here there's nowhere for him to go" and they go and search and find him lounging on something reading the Bradshaw's Guide upside down. And he's like "oh yeah I'm thinking of buying a railroad" and Dracula's like ".......that's upside down" and Brucie is just like "ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh that makes so much more sense thanks <3"

Regarding the wolves I... don't think Bruce would choose the Certain Death option. He's got all those kids. (Sadly I can't see a way for him to get Free Baby out of this - maybe it's for the best). And afterwards maybe he stows away in one of those dirt boxes... although if he follows Dracula on the 24th does he ever find the dirt boxes? Eh, he's a brilliant detective, of course he finds them.

Anyway, yes, I do think Batman Brucie Wayne, himbo of Gotham can survive Castle Dracula

(Incidentally I personally believe that Batman does have a superpower and it's Environmental Empathy. Dracula's like ...wtf I didn't order these thunderstorms)

#batman #bruce wayne #brucie wayne #tumblr batman #superheroes #aristocrats #detectives #ninjas

[in-som-niyah]

"No, none of that baby. Let me see that pretty pussy of mine."

in which you catch Jason mingling with a girl you think is prettier at a gala, and he reminds you who he belongs to with his face between your thighs...

The night is young and alive. In the four walls of bruce's charity gala, there was expensive champagne, rich people music and gorgeous women.

You were advised, no instructed to come with Jason to his father's galas for a while now. The scene was nothing new.

Bruce would throw millions at a gala for a bunch of rich people 4 times a year to keep himself in their good graces. You would stand in the corner and watch people pretend to like each other with wide smiles and chaste hugs.

Secretly, you hated these events. Well, Jason knew you would rather stay home, but he thought it was because you just find them boring.

He could't be more wrong.

As you claimed your usual spot with your back to the wall in a corner, you watched the skinny, blond-haired girls in their tastefully fitted dresses garner the spotlight of the event. The way they batted their blue eyes up at a mesmerized man was the 8th wonder of the world. They were so effortless in their seduction, so enamouring in their figure.

So stunning.

It wasn't that you weren't pretty, no, it was that you were sorely out of place.

And Jason had no Idea.

How could he, when he stood at six foot something, broad shoulders and a physique to die for. Lush green eyes and prominent yet soft features.

And Gods above, his smile.

Any girl would have won the lottery if she saw his genuine smile.

It was no secret that you didn't match him, not at all.

It is in these moments that you begin to question your relationship. If these are the kinds of women he is surrounded with, why the fuck was he with you?

You scoffed and took a swig of your Champagne as you watched yet another girl wave to him.

Presently, he was doing his job, talking with investors and other important people in Gotham.

He was talking to some high up CEO when a gorgeous girl bumped into his side. He turned around to meet her embarrassed gaze.

Though you were out of earshot, you could make out her flustered apologies and Jason's attempts at reassurance. Out of courtesy, he asked for her name or other surface info and the two seemed to get to talking. She was blabbering on about who she was and what she does for a living and she made a joke. And Jason Laughed.

He laughed. Fully and genuinely. He laughed.

Then so did she, sparkling blue eyes looking up at him once again as they laughed over something you couldn't find funny. You would never find this funny.

Soon enough, the lights dimmed and Bruce called the attention of the crowd to welcome them and thank them for their attendance. His list of thanks and acknowledgements went on as normal.

"...And I'm so glad my son Jason found a friend at these so-called 'boring' events he hates going to." Bruce joked.

The crowd laughed.

But so did Jason.

You took this as your opportunity to leave, slamming your champagne flute down on a nearby table and making a swift exit.

Hot tears threatened to burn rivers down your face as your legs carried you out of the venue as quickly as they could. You found an elevator, and decided to take it up to Jason's bedroom.

Once on the correct floor, the floodgates opened and you began to sob.

You flung open the door to his bedroom and slammed it shut. You took off your expensive heels and pelted them across the tidy room. Everything reminded you of him; the portraits on the wall, his diplomas, old weapons, even the faint scent of him.

This was something you could no longer take. You were so tired of feeling inadequate, silently counting down the days until he found someone better than you. In your mind, that day had come and though it had been in the back of you mind for as long as you were with him, you were damn unprepared.

You undid the zipper on your dress and flung it off your body. Jason picked out this dress for you when he mentioned that he wanted you to come to this last gala with him. You painfully recall how happy and excited you were to be able to wear a dress in his colour that he picked out for you.

How foolish.

Your sobs grew stronger as you began to think that your relationship should have never happened, seeing that he would have found someone prettier, skinnier, funnier smarter-

Knock

Knock

Knock

"Y/N?"

Jason was at the door to his room. Growing bored with the festivities below, he wanted to find you and go back to your place. When he couldn't find you in the crowd, he went up to his room to check something. It was then that he heard your heavy sobs coming from behind his door and panic filled his system.

You stopped crying immediately and moved to dry your tears that have surely ruined your makeup by now.

"Yeah baby. J-just give me a second." you blurted in an unconvincing tone.

He couldn't know how distraught you were about something so trivial. It wasn't his fault that he was so hot, and it wasn't yours that you thought you weren't. There was nobody to blame for your insecurities, and you didn't need him to know how terrible you felt because of your own self-inflicted wounds.

"Can I come in?" He pried gently.

You appreciated his courtesy of asking if he could enter his own room. You scrambled to find a shirt of his to cover yourself with. There was no need for the added anxiety of what you thought you looked like right now. Your heels still splayed across the room and dress slumped against his armchair.

"Sure." you let out with a defeated sigh.

The audible twist and click of the doorknob filled the quiet space. Jason's brow was pinched with worry as the door swung open to reveal you, sitting on his bed in his shirt, in pretty bad shape.

He closed the door and locked it behind him, something you appreciated, and took off his jacket. He made his way to the edge of the bed and sat on the mattress with his back to the edge, facing you.

His soft gaze took in your state, and his shoulders slumped because he didn't like what he saw. He hated seeing you sad, it broke his heart into a million little pieces.

Jason reached out his hand for you to take, but you curled in on yourself and inched further away from him. You were still overwhelmed with your thoughts of his hands all over someone elses' body.

You wanted to vomit.

"Can you look at me, Y/N?" Jason asks cautiously. He doesn't know what you're thinking, and the last thing he wants to do is scare you.

The tears came back and you struggled to keep them at bay.

"C-Can't" your strained voice came through gritted teeth.

"Oh come here pretty girl" he cooed.

You resolve was gone and you moved to throw yourself in his arms.

Jason's strong arms came to wrap around your back, one hand on the back of your head and the other around your abdomen.

Your hands grabbed at his ironed dress shirt. Usually you were courteous, but now you were too hurt to care. Makeup, snot, tears and other fluids rubbed into his clothes as you broke down in his arms.

You were grateful he didn't say anything about his ruined shirt as his hand rubbed up and down your back.

Jason's mind was racing, searching all corners of his brain to figure out what would make you this upset so quickly.

Your sobs began to slow but your breathing remained erratic. There was too much and not enough air at the same time. Jason stepped in quickly to make sure you didn't pass out.

"Hey hey hey slow down baby girl. Follow my breaths alright? In. Out. Keep going sugar. In. Out. Atta girl"

As you breathed with him, you felt calmer, but the guilt of him having to deal with your outburst began to gnaw at you.

You lifted your head from his shoulder and broke out of his embrace. He studies your state, which was much better now, but stayed quiet.

"I-I'm sorr-"

"Absolutely not." Jason sharply interrupted your attempt to apologize

"There is nothing for you to be sorry for sweetheart."

You could tell he was searching your face for any kind of acknowledgement, but you couldn't look at him.

"Look at me baby. Please?" he whispers as his hands roam up your neck to cup your cheeks.

You shook your head no.

Jason tries again, pressing his forehead to yours, looking at your tightly closed eyes.

"You're breaking my heart pretty girl. Please? For me?" he whispers so softly.

Deciding to obey, you look up at him. A single tear escapes your eye as you stare into his worried green ones.

"None of that anymore sugar" he reassures as his thumb wipes away the tear.

You nod in agreement.

Jason and you stay close with your forheads on each others for a while, basking in the intimacy of it all.

He breaks the silence.

"Talk to me love. What happened hm?" he asks, his breath dancing on your lips.

You take a deep breath

"What got my girl so upset?"

Truthfully, you had no idea how to start. How to tell him you've been feeling like a horrible girlfriend since you've been having darker thoughts about your appearance. How can you tell Jason, whose only fault was loving you, that you feel inadequate in his presence. That you feel that it is only a matter of time until he finds someone prettier, skinnier, smarter-

"Baby?"

His inquiry pulls you out of your head.

"It's stupid." You respond in a small voice.

"No. Not if it made you feel this way."

You drop your head again in shame. You don't deserve this kindness after you just questioned his intentions with you.

"But it has nothing to do with you" you mumble.

"It has everything to do with me because I love you. And I cant stand to see you so hurt over something I don't know about or help you with." He countered.

"But-" your voice begins to shake once more

He sneaks his index finger underneath your chin and lifts, giving you no choice but to look at him.

"But nothing." he shuts you down simply.

Jason kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, then your nose, making you giggle.

"There's my girl" he mumbles to no one in particular.

His face lines up with yours once again. This time, it is you who moves closer to capture his lips in yours. It was a soft and passionate kiss, a silent thanks for his patience with you.

Jason broke the kiss before you could and smoothed a braid from out of your face.

"Can you tell me why you're upset? You don't have to if you don't want-"

"I want to." You interrupted him.

After a long period of explaining your feelings with a few more stray tears, you both came to an understanding of how the situation came to be. Jason told you how much he loves you, and that nobody with a smaller figure or more socially "beautiful" than you could take him away from you. You were his girl; his to love, his to smile at, his to laugh with, his to touch, his to feel, his to caress-

His lips were now on yours. He kissed you with a fever of determination, a thousand feelings infused into the union of your lips.

His hands began to roam your body. Up your back and down to your hips. You know he loves seeing you in his clothes.

As the kiss deepens and both of your hands are all over eachother. Your hand roams down his front to find his bulge. He stops you abruptly, and you raise you head to look at him questioningly.

"Are you sure?" Jason whispers.

You chuckle at the question.

"Yes, of course" you answer incredulously.

At that, your hand made its way down again and was stopped once more.

"I want tonight to be about you, princess. Let me prove how much I love you."

You shot him a questioning look.

He smirked.

You have no idea what's coming He thought.

With his hands on your waist, he gently pushed you down onto the bed. He hiked up your (his) shirt to reveal your pretty tits.

Jason pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck, shoulders and chest. A hand came up to massage your breast and play with your nipple. His actions earned a moan from you, which only spurred him on in his antics.

"So beautiful" he murmured into your skin.

He continued down your body, only stopping to catch a glimpse of your head thrown back in painful anticipation.

Once he made his way down to your underwear he kneaded the flesh of your thighs and pressed kisses on the inside of each one.

"Gorgeous" he breathed between kisses

"Can I take these off?" He asks

You nod your head yes, but this is not sufficient for him.

"Need words pretty girl" Jason presses.

You let out a breathy yes and he begins to pull down your panties.

They were his favourite colour, Red.

"No other girl could wear my colour and be a sexy as you are. Understand?"

"Yes" you moan as his hands are at your feet, tossing your panties and rubbing your ankles.

At the cool breeze in the air, you snap your thighs together, unfamiliar with the change in temperature on your heat.

"No, none of that baby. Let me see that pretty pussy of mine."

You swear you could have cum at that statement alone.

Jason takes matters into his own hands as he gently and slowly pries your legs open, while maintaining eye contact to make sure you're still okay with what's going on.

Before he makes his descent, he lifts you slightly to move you further up the bed. A swift hand pulls a pillow and places it under your hips.

Clearly, he meant business.

Before your nerves had a chance to ruin the moment, Jason cuts the tension by turning to your inner thighs, leaving little bites and dark marks.

Without warning, he dives right in, relieving your sopping cunt of its misery.

The flat of his tongue drags up your soaking pussy, eliciting a surprised moan from you.

He continues with his affirmations.

"Nobody's pussy is a perfect as this one right here, yeah?"

You moan out at the praise.

"Need words baby or I'll stop"

"Y-Yes Jason!" you gasp as your hands desperately grip his sheets for relief. His tongue dancing with the devil on your soaked folds.

Briefly, he rises from between your legs and a scene of his saliva and your essence coats his lips and chin. His lips, now puffy, curl into a smirk.

"Now repeat after me. You make a mistake and I'll stop. Understood?" he continued.

"Fuck- Yes, I understand"

"There's my good girl" He affirms.

He goes back down with fervor this time. Jason's tongue wasted no time before lapping up what ended up on your thighs and circling your clit.

He begins. "There is no girl more perfect for Jason than me"

God he's good.

"T-There is- shit no girl- oh" You start, interrupted by his lips sucking on your clit.

"M-More perfect- ugh for J-Jason than me" You finish, proud that you were able to complete your first sentence.

Your success earned a proud "atta girl" from Jason as he continued his mission on your folds.

"There is no woman on this planet prettier than me" He started again, before his tongue resumed his actions.

This one was a challenge. Between his tongue and the suction of his lips, your orgasm was approaching quickly.

"There i-is no shit woman- fuck Jason I'm gonna-" you spit our frantically.

"Not yet. Finish the sentence first. You're almost there." He says as he raises his head from between your legs.

You let out a desperate whine at the sudden lack of stimulation and pushed your hips up against nothing. A strong forearm came to stop you, which your desperate state didn't appreciate.

You are left no choice but to continue.

"on this planted p-prettier than me." You finish.

Before you could beg, he was already there, hot breath ghosting over your need.

"Last one pretty girl. You can do it." Jason whispers. He moves his unused hand to interlock with one of yours that was previously gripping the bedding for dear life.

"Ready?" He asks

You nod weakly, followed by a whiny yes, knowing that only words will get you what you want.

"I am the only woman Jason has ever loved" He speaks over your heat.

You swore you came instantly.

Jason's heavenly mouth got to work again, leaving you a panting, mewling mess on his dark sheets. You were sure there was a puddle where his mouth met your cunt, and lewd, wet sounds filled the room.

Desperately needing your release, there was only one way to get it.

"I am t-the only fuck-" You were stopped by a particularly intense suck on your clit.

Jason's hand squeezed yours in encouragement. A silent "you can do this sugar" was mumbled over your pussy.

"Woman Jason ha-has ever- Ohh I'm so close Jay pleasepleaseplease". Your attempted recitation died with a desperate babble of his name.

His hand squeezed yours tightly, encouraging you once again to continue.

The tight coil in your tummy grew stronger and harder to ignore as Jason picked up the pace between your legs. It was as if he was a starving man, craving only one thing and finally receiving it.

"L-LOVED" You screamed as your release washed over you. Your eyes rolled and your back arched at the sudden sensation. Every nerve in your body was lit ablaze, burning so sweetly as he continued to lap at you through your high.

Nothing but, white-hot bliss filled each of your senses. You were so lost in your own pleasure, it almost hurt to come back down to earth.

When you opened your eyes again, you were met with a panting and disheveled Jason, juices all over his chin, and sweat down his brow. His collared dress shirt was unbuttoned and sinfully wrinkled. You couldn't help but marvel at his beauty in such an unkempt state.

Slowly, he began to remove the pillow from under you and pull your shirt down over your body. You hissed at the fabric dragging across your still-sensitive nipples, for which he apologized with a kiss on your nose.

Aligning his face with yours, he looked deep into your eyes and used his free hand to thumb away the tears of overstimulation on your cheeks.

"Don't you ever feel like you're not worthy of me again without telling me okay?" he remarks as he gives you a small, kind smile.

You nod, and he doesn't press you about it this time.

"I'll repeat this as many times as I need to sunshine, no questions asked."

He continued.

"I love you."

#jason peter todd #jason todd x you #jason todd comfort #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x black!reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood smut #the weeknd #kissland #love in the sky #songfic #original writing #dc x reader #dcu #dc universe #dc comics #Spotify

[roosterforme]

The Curveball Part 1 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Bob started coaching a tee ball team with Bradley, he was surprised to find how much he enjoyed it. But the last thing he expected was to fall in love with Molly, the beautiful and exciting aunt of one of the players on the team. Bob is hooked after one look at her, but he's afraid that he could never be enough.

Warnings: Fluff, eventually 18+

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

The first time Bob saw Molly, he almost tripped over his own feet. She was laughing, the beautiful sound carrying across the field as she walked with her nephew, Everett. When she looked up and met Bob's eyes, her smile grew. 

"Hi, Coach Bob!" Everett called out with a wave of his hand. He was a sweet kid, one of Bob's favorites from the Tiny Eagles tee ball team.

And then Bob's lips parted in awe as Molly raised her hand to wave as well. "Hey there, Coach Bob." And then she winked at him as her teasing voice filled his ears and made his heart thud. 

The closer she got, the more stunning she looked, and her eyes remained on his. He was staring. He realized that much. But he supposed it didn't matter if he made a fool of himself, because there was no way she'd be looking at him for much longer anyway. 

Molly looked a lot like her sister, and Bob started blushing profusely at that thought. Because Bradley definitely had a thing for Everett's mom. The "Team Mom". Bob liked Molly's sister plenty, but he never had a hard time looking away from her. He never once thought about how the shape of her body looked like it would fit nicely with his, snuggled up on the couch. 

"Bob. Hey, Bob. Robert. Coach Bob!"

"What?!" Bob asked, suddenly broken free from the spell Molly managed to put him under from twenty feet away. Bradley was waving a hand in his direction and snapping his fingers.

"You okay? You're not listening to me."

"I'm fine," Bob mumbled, stealing another quick glance her way as she knelt in front of Everett and helped him change his shoes. 

But Bob knew he was in trouble, because Bradley could tell exactly who he was looking at. And the smirk the other man gave him had Bob keeping his eyes to himself for the rest of tee ball practice.

-------------------------

The second time Bob saw Molly was much, much worse. She was wearing a little sundress. And this time he really did trip over his own feet. Bob watched as she bent to hug her nephew, and the way the fabric of the front of her dress met her body erased all normal thoughts from his mind. They were replaced with thoughts of Molly and her dress on Bob's bed. And on Bob's couch. And on Bob's bathroom floor. And in the bed of Bob's truck.

It was mortifying, feeling this attracted to a woman he'd seen twice and had never talked to. And likely never would talk to. But then she looked up at him as he adjusted his cap, and her smile was too much when it was aimed right at him like that. She probably had a boyfriend. She probably had ten boyfriends. Maybe a hundred. Ones that undoubtedly worshipped the ground she walked on. 

Oh no. She was walking closer. Bob panicked. He blew his whistle to start practice, even though it was five minutes too early. The parents were looking at him, confused. Bradley turned to him and asked, "It's time? Already?"

"Yep," Bob said, walking briskly away from Molly and picking up one of the balls. "Let's get started."

But then it got even worse. After practice, Bradley offered to give Everett a piggyback ride up to Molly's car. And this time, when she looked at him, Bob just started walking toward her. Like he was in some sort of trance. And the closer he got to her, the more she smiled. Like she already knew he was thinking about her collection of boyfriends and wanting to become one of them. 

"Hey, Coach Bob," she said, and he shivered. 

"Hi," he managed a little awkwardly. "Are you Everett's aunt?"

"Molly," she replied without hesitation, holding out her hand. He took it in his bigger one, and then she was in his personal space. He had to let go before he started sweating. 

"Nice to meet you," he mumbled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bradley pick Everett up, giving him and Molly plenty of space. But Bob was feeling like his only lifeline had been yanked away. 

"So, how long have you been coaching tee ball?" Molly asked, and Bob fell into step next to her as she walked toward her car.

"Oh, this is my first season." That was an easy question. He wasn't so sure he'd be able to answer anything past a first grade comprehension level right now, and that was sad, because he had a master's degree in aeronautics. 

"What got you into it?" she asked, looking at him with a smile. "You have kids of your own?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. Bob liked kids. He loved them. But he'd never been serious enough with anyone to even bring up the possibility of having his own. "My niece, Piper, is on the team, and she's autistic. She's more comfortable when she's around people who are familiar to her, so I'm kind of doing this for my sister."

Now she was looking at him like he had just saved a cat from a tree and helped an old lady cross the street at the same time. "That's so sweet," she gushed, and Bob stood a little taller. Sweet was in his wheelhouse. If Molly liked sweet, then maybe Bob stood a chance. "Everett talks about Piper all the time. I think my sister wants them to have a playdate."

Bob briefly wondered if he could sneak in and take Piper in place of his sister, just in the hope that maybe Molly would be there too. 

"What do you do when you're not being Coach Bob?" she asked before he had to think of something intelligent to say. Bob could hear Bradley and Everett laughing somewhere behind him as he slowly walked with Molly. 

"I'm a naval aviator," he said, always unsure about how to talk about work. "A weapons systems officer. I guess when I'm not Coach Bob, I'm Lieutenant Floyd." 

Molly bit her lip and looked up at him, and now he could only think about her mouth. "So you have three names. Coach Bob, Uncle Bob, and Lieutenant Floyd. Which one do you prefer?"

His mouth felt dry as he tried to swallow. The way she was looking at him like he was interesting and attractive made him blurt out what he was thinking. "I would answer to any of them if you were the one saying it." He would also like to answer to Molly's boyfriend, at least in his fantasies. 

"Okay, Uncle Bob," she said with a bright laugh, and he laughed too. "This is my car." She unlocked a blue Honda, and Bob opened the driver's door for her. 

When he noticed that Bradley and Everett were still messing around in the grass, Bob asked, "Do you like baseball?"

"I like men in baseball pants," Molly said matter-of-factly. And now Bob was definitely sweating, standing there in his white baseball pants while she looked up at him with the most innocent gaze. 

He could tell he was blushing as he adjusted his glasses and looked at the ground. But Molly saved him from having to respond when she asked, "I take it you like baseball? Or do you only dig tee ball?"

"Oh, I love baseball. I play centerfield in a recreational league at work," he said, meeting her eyes again.

Molly's lips parted in slow motion, and Bob started to feel a little dizzy as she asked, "Does that mean you wear the pants all the time?"

He swallowed hard, unable to formulate a sensible sentence. "Uh..." He managed to pull it together as her eyes dipped down his body like she was impressed by what she saw. "All summer."

"God bless June, July and August," she muttered, and Bob just knew he was dreaming now. This wasn't real. "What are the main differences between tee ball and baseball?" she asked standing a little closer to him as Bradley finally made it up to the car with Everett. 

"Well, the field is bigger," Bob said, fighting the urge to run his finger along her full lower lip. "And, my bat is bigger, too," he added, and a wide smile broke out on her face. 

Bradley snorted, and then Bob realized what he had said. He started to panic. Molly's eyes dipped down to the front of Bob's snug, white pants, and he thought he was probably going to die.

But she grinned at him and said, "I'll bet it is, Bob."

Bradley finished buckling Everett in, closed the car door and casually said, "Bob's bat is actually the biggest size allowed, according to league regulations. Have a great night, Molly. See you later, Bob."

And then he was strolling toward his Bronco, leaving Bob with Molly. Bob was ready to have a panic attack, but she was just laughing like she was really enjoying this. 

"I need to go into witness protection now," he said softly, shaking his head in mortification.

Molly laughed harder, and then Bob's whole body lit up as she placed her hand on his abs and patted him. "Oh, Lieutenant Floyd, you are adorable," she said, smiling up at him and letting her hand drop to her side. "I need to get Ev home, but thanks for walking us to the car. And thanks for the laugh and the baseball pants."

Her eyes glittered with amusement as she climbed into her car, and Bob mumbled some sort of goodbye as he gently closed the door for her. She and Everett both waved as they drove away, and Bob stared after the blue car until it was out of sight. 

"Bob!" Bradley called from his open window. Bob sighed, really not wanting to go over there, but if he didn't, Bradley would just become unrelenting. 

"What's up?" Bob asked, leaning against the side of the Bronco and trying to act natural. But he could tell he was blushing while Bradley smirked. "I noticed Molly when she came to practice last time, too. Are you going to make fun of me for having a crush on her?"

Bradley started laughing. "Not at all. She's really nice. And Everett said his Aunt Molly is single."

"Is she really?" Bob asked softly as a grin spread across his face. This information was absolutely shocking. He'd never have believed it. But he could trust Bradley and Everett on this one. 

"Yep. The kid is a wealth of information."

"Wow," Bob mumbled, turning and heading toward his truck. Then it really dawned on him. Molly had flirted with him.

----------------------------

Bob's thoughts were consumed by Molly. Her sundress. Her laugh. Her blue car. Her hand on his body.

Once again, his crush on her was pretty ridiculous. One conversation. They'd had one conversation, and Bob was head over heels for her. Every game day and every evening at practice, he crossed his fingers that she would show up again. But it had been a bit since he had seen her, and he was feeling a little disheartened. 

But Bob could see how Bradley lit up every time he was around Molly's sister, so he had a hard time begrudging his friend and co-coach that level of happiness. 

After the game on Saturday, the team was still undefeated, and Bob was doing a little recap with Bradley. 

"Great job, head coach," Bradley told him, shaking his arm and making him smile. "Undefeated after three games."

Bob nodded, really proud of the two of them. "I think you're a better coach than you're giving yourself credit for. The kids love you."

Bradley smiled at Everett and his mom. "I'm having fun."

Bob followed his gaze and mumbled, "Do you know if Molly's coming to another practice or anything?"

"You want me to ask Team Mom if she'll invite her sister again?"

Bob sucked in an excited breath. "Would you? I mean... I'll probably just chicken out again, but I want to ask her for her phone number next time I see her."

Bradley clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, you should. According to her sister, Molly thinks you're hot."

"You're kidding me," Bob whispered. "You must be."

Bradley just shook his head. "Not kidding. Molly's a bit of a spitfire. You think you can handle that?"

Bob walked away without answering. Because he really, honestly wasn't sure. 

-----------------------

"Any chance you'd want to get pizza after practice on Thursday night?" Bradley asked Bob in the locker room on Tuesday afternoon.

Bob shrugged. "Sure." He tried to watch what he ate, but a few slices of pizza would be okay.

"Great. Ev and Team Mom are going, too. So is Molly."

Bob dropped his deodorant onto the floor. "Molly's going?"

Bradley grunted as he got dressed. "Yeah. Don't tell me you're not into her anymore. I had to work some behind the scenes magic for this."

Bob almost laughed in his face. Not into her anymore? It would be impossible to lose interest in Molly. Bob had tried to stop thinking about her, because there was just no way he'd be able to keep her interest. Even if she liked the way he looked and somehow found him funny, she'd be done with him after about a week. Two at most.

"I...am still interested," Bob said, drawing in a shaky breath and picking up his deodorant. 

"Great," Bradley said with a smile. "She can't wait to see you."

Those words echoed in Bob's head until Thursday. And by that point, he was so nervous, he wasn't sure he'd even be able to eat any pizza without getting sick. But then Molly was there. She came for tee ball practice, and she looked beautiful. Way out of his league. 

Panic was setting in again as practice ended. Molly kept looking his way, and Bob could practically feel her gaze on him. 

"Just relax," Bradley told him. "If she didn't want to see you, she wouldn't be here right now."

Bob took a steadying breath and acknowledged that Bradley was probably correct. His cheeks felt warm as he walked toward her, and he had to clear his throat twice, but he managed to get the words out. "Hi, Molly." Because once again, up close, she had him forgetting his own middle name.

"Hey, Coach Bob," Molly replied with a grin. "Wanna ride with me? I'll bring you back later to get your car." She was looking up at him expectantly. She asked him to ride to the restaurant with her. 

He just nodded, and when she turned toward the parking lot, he followed her. "Nice pants," she said over her shoulder with a smirk. Bob had worn them on purpose. And now he was smiling.

"Thanks," he said, and when he opened the driver's side door for Molly, she looked up at him, stunned.

"Wow," she whispered. "You're really a gentleman." 

And then she kissed his cheek before she sank down into the driver's seat. Bob closed the door and then floated around to the other side of the car. Soft lips. Soft, perfect lips. On his skin. On his cheek.

When he slipped in next to her, his long legs a little awkward in her small car, she was looking at his lips. Bob was either completely delusional, or Molly was attracted to him, too. She leaned in a little closer to him before pulling back and starting her car. 

Loud music blared, making Bob jump as she reached for the volume knob. "Sorry," she muttered with an apologetic look. "I don't usually have any passengers." 

Bob glanced at her backseat and saw a booster seat for Everett and several first aid kits. Then she wrapped her arm around the back of his seat while she backed out of the parking spot, leaning closer to him. Molly pulled out of the parking lot, and she was a truly terrible driver. If Bob hadn't been broken of motion sickness during flight training a decade ago, he'd probably be hanging out the window, begging for mercy. 

When he glanced her way, she looked a little nervous. He wondered why as he tried to think of something to talk about. 

"Why do you have so many first aid kits?"

Molly smiled as she said, "I'm an emergency room nurse. I'm very good at fixing up little injuries here and there. Comes in handy to have supplies with me."

Then it struck Bob that he knew next to nothing about Molly other than the fact that he was insanely attracted to her and that she loved her sister and nephew.

"Where do you work?" he asked.

"Regional," she replied. "I used to work at Midway, but um... I moved to Castle Park when my sister got divorced. Her ex fucking sucks, and I knew she was going to need a hand with Everett." 

So she was smart, selfless, giving and caring. Bob was in trouble. 

"Not that she would ever explicitly ask for help. Do you have any older siblings?"

"Two," he replied, mesmerized by the way she could talk so calmly while she drove so horribly. 

"Then you get it. They're obnoxious. Headstrong. Control freaks. But I mean, she's also my favorite person in the world. Besides Everett. God, I love that kid. Oh no, I missed the turn," she muttered, looking to her left as she switched lanes again and cut someone off. "Oops. Anyway, yeah, so I live in Castle Park now, but I used to live near the beach. Closer to you Naval officer type guys. Oof, some of them are not as sweet as you, Uncle Bob. Met a few unmentionables near Coronado. Oh okay, there's the pizza place," she said, rambling on as she pulled into the restaurant parking lot and found somewhere to park. "So yeah. That's me in a nutshell," she told him as she put the car in park and turned the key. Molly turned to face him, and her smile was too much to handle up close. "I'm a twenty nine year old orphaned Sagittarius who can provide medical care on the go. I'm terrible at cooking, I like staying up way too late, I always google the endings of movies before I watch them, and up until recently, I've had terrible taste in men. Anything else you want to know, Coach Cute Glasses?"

Bob shook his head slightly. "You're amazing." He knew he was blushing, but he didn't really care anymore. Molly called him Coach Cute Glasses. No man in the world could listen to her talk, sit this close to her, have her call his glasses cute...and not blush. It was impossible. 

Molly giggled. "It looks crowded. Let's go get a table."

Bob was instantly out of the car, and he made it to her side in time to close her door for her. She looked up at him with an expression Bob thought probably mirrored his own. "You need to stop being so sweet, Bob."

"I don't think I know how," he replied, and he could feel Molly lacing her fingers with his. 

"Well, fuck around and find out. This is your last warning, Lieutenant Floyd," she told him, gently tugging on his arm and leading him toward the front doors. "Sweet guys get phone numbers and get kissed on the lips."

Bob's head was swimming. A kiss on the lips. He wanted to be sweet. He wanted to earn that kind of reward. He reached out and pulled the restaurant door open and held it for Molly. 

"After you," he muttered, and he watched her shake her head.

"You're unbelievable," she whispered, wrapping one sure hand gently around the back of Bob's neck and guiding his lips closer to hers while she stood on her toes. "Unbelievably adorable."

Then her lips met Bob's as her body pressed against his. The kiss was too good. Perfect. He didn't touch her, but she touched him, letting her fingers slide into his hair while her other hand rested on his chest.

When Molly pulled her lips away, Bob chased them, practically begging for more. And with a smile and another soft brush of her lips against his, Bob was completely done for.

----------------------------

Bob was completely out of his depth. Molly had kissed him. Right outside of this hole in the wall pizza place which was packed with people. Now she was holding his hand again while she sweet talked the high school aged kid who was seating everyone into giving up the last table.

The kid was blushing the same color Bob probably was. "You have a party of five? That's a table for four," he muttered.

"We don't mind squeezing in," she said with a smile that would probably send that kid into heart palpitations. 

But next thing Bob knew, he was pulling out a chair for her and sliding into the seat next to her. "That was pretty smooth," he said with a laugh as the kid left the menus and walked away still blushing. 

"You liked that?" Molly asked, cocking her head to the side and looking at Bob. "I know a lot of moves, Coach Bob. All of them are smooth."

Bob's cock twitched at her words, and he had to grab a menu and pretend like he still knew how to read. 

Flirting. Flirting. He was sure he'd never mastered this skill. He didn't even know how to fake it. But Molly wasn't looking at him with annoyance when it took him probably a full minute to respond. She was just smiling softly and glancing between him and the menu in front of her.

"You know," he said softly, "you're so pretty, you don't even need to be smooth. It's very overwhelming the way you put them together."

"Bob," she gasped softly, and he finally met her eyes. "Please, Bob. I can't with how fucking sweet you are."

Molly leaned in, so close to him, and Bob thought maybe he was going to be awarded another kiss. But her soft laughter filled his ears instead. "And the baseball pants? A girl can only handle so much."

She reached out and gently adjusted his glasses before letting her hand come to rest on his shoulder. And then Bob was thankfully saved from having to think of a response, because her sister showed up with Bradley and Everett. 

"Over here!" Molly called, and she popped up out of her chair. When she sat down again, she let her hand trail down Bob's arm as she called for Everett to come sit on her lap. "Ev can take turns sitting on our laps, and I get him first!"

Bob could barely manage to make conversation with Molly sitting next to him, laughing with her nephew. He liked this too much, and he was still having a hard time thinking of something to say. Her leg was bumping his as Everett asked, "Hey, Coach Bob, do you like the Phillies, too?"

Molly turned to hear his answer, just as interested as Everett was. "I'm a Colorado Rockies fan," Bob replied, smiling at Everett. 

"No offense, but I'm happy my mom likes Coach Bradley, because the Phillies are cooler than the Rockies."

Molly was silently holding in her laughter as Everett climbed off of her lap in favor of Bradley's. "Yeah, I'm happy about that, too," she whispered to Bob, eyes playful. "Wouldn't want to have to fight my own sister."

Bob sat in shock for a moment as the pizza was dropped off at the table. He let everyone else grab for slices, waiting to go last, but Molly dropped a piece onto his plate before grabbing one for herself. 

"Thank you," Bob told her, once again distracted as she bit into her own slice. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and Bob decided it was more satisfying to watch Molly eat a slice of pizza than to eat one himself. She kept stealing glances at him while she ate, and Bob hastily bit into his dinner. At least he didn't have to talk right now. 

But as the meal ended and the check was dropped off, Bob quickly pulled his wallet out of his pocket. He didn't mind paying for everyone as he rarely went out, but Bradley tossed his credit card across the table. "Split it," he told Bob while he returned to coloring with Everett. 

"I can get it," Molly said, frantically digging around in her purse that looked like it was full of receipts, mints and pens. 

"No," Bob said. "It's my pleasure." But Molly abandoned her purse and reached for his wallet instead.

"No, no, I can't let you pay," she groaned, leaning on his body while he kept his wallet out of her reach. "Bob!" she said, sounding scandalized. But Bob could feel her breasts pressing against his arm as she practically crawled onto his lap. She was bringing all of his feelings to the surface. She was just too exciting to be around. 

He laughed as he said, "Why don't you want me to pay? I'm happy to do it."

She eased back into her own seat and crossed her arms. "I'm not used to guys being courteous. It's doing things to me, Uncle Bob." 

It was only fair since she was doing things to him. She pouted playfully and glared at him out of the corner of his eye. Then the waitress took Bob's credit card as well as Bradley's and went to split the bill in half. 

Bob pressed his lips together and turned to Molly, saying, "You know, you could at least say thank you." Then he draped his arm across the back of Molly's chair, just waiting to see what she would say.

Molly turned to face him again, her gaze lingering on his mouth. Bradley and Everett were suddenly heading for the door, and her sister was hustling along behind them.

Bob was basically alone with Molly now, and his cock twitched as she bit her lip and said, "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd."

When she immediately stood, Bob had the fleeting thought that he should probably remain seated for another minute, because Molly was really winding him up. But when she glanced back at him as she walked away, Bob was on his feet and holding the door for her and walking along next to her back to her car. 

He wanted Molly to touch him again, but he really wasn't sure he knew how to touch her the way she would like. He was dying for another kiss, but if she expected him to do much more than that, he was going to be lost. 

Molly leaned back against her car and looked up at him in the darkness of the parking lot. Bob was a few inches away, close enough to feel her warmth as the night cooled off. 

Her voice was soft, somewhere between teasing and seductive. "Are you thinking about kissing me, Bob?"

He shivered, thinking about doing everything to her. "D-Do you want me to?"

"You didn't answer my question."

Bob figured he didn't have anything to lose by being honest right now. "Yes. I'm thinking about kissing you, Molly. How would you expect me to think about anything else?"

She moaned softly which had Bob stumbling toward her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips. Her whole body was right there, and she wasn't being shy about touching him. So he let his hands rest gently on her waist, at just the right spot that was neither too high nor too low. 

Her lips were soft on his, but when she tasted him with her tongue before nibbling his lower lip between hers, he squeezed her waist.

"Mmm." The soft hum at the back of her throat had him thinking the filthiest things, and Bob was scared she'd be able to feel him where she was snug up against him. When she nudged his glasses with her nose, she giggled against his lips. "I like your glasses."

Molly's body fit perfectly with his, and when Bob realized he had her pressed between his body and her car, he released her lips and took a step backwards. The rise and fall of her chest as she said, "I'll drive you back to your car," had him hypnotized. But Bob managed to open her door and gently close it after she was inside. He was able to make his way around to the passenger side and get in without too much effort.

"Let me see your phone," Molly said softly. Bob fumbled with it but managed to hand it to her. She entered her phone number and saved it, and Bob looked at her name there on his phone screen while she drove away from the restaurant.

He was never going to recover.

----------------------------

Omg!!! I love Bob and Molly so much! I hope you're all caught up with Batting Practice to best enjoy this fic as a dessert to round out your meal. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone when bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 2

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#bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob fluff #bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #robert floyd fic #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #the curveball #roosterforme #batting practice

[hyewka]

dominating..ceo soobin….dominating CEO SOOBIN!!!

using his tie as bondage ..haha im normal about this haha..but hear me out!!!!! hes a total nepo baby, getting the ceo position because of his father. different than his older brother in the sense that he thinks following in the steps of his father is his duty, none of that sense of “carrying tradition” translates well to his work though bcs he effing fucks up virtually everything that he touches. terrible at his job (nobody really tells him though) that his father has to literally hire someone to take it upon themselves to make the right decisions..so basically he has his CEO title for show. terrible at negotiation but not at asserting his dominance in the work space lol has the face of steel, not cracking a smile at any formal work events (not everyone knows hes playing with the cuffs of his stupidly expensive suit behind his back).

networking networking..networking!!! you approached mr. choi for networking. like everybody else. being friends with your ceo is unlikely, but being friendly with him would give you some perks. itd be hard though, considering the reputation he holds (cold, aloof, distant…bleh). with your simple black dress paired with pearl accessories to compliment it and your glass of wine in hand, you walk up to the rigid man by the weirdly empty bar. soobin is…awkward, really awkward. stumbles around his words when he offers a longer response to you, definitely is unprofessional with the way he just cant hide the blush on his cheeks and the fact that he even mildly finds you attractive. okay so change of plans, you’re flirting with your boss. harmless fun, everyones sort of drunk and in their own world with their plus ones anyway. “what department do you work in?”

“mm, you’re quite a curious guy.” you hide the amused smile managing to break through at seeing how his eyes widen, looking like his brains working at hundreds of miles per hour, “i’m in marketing.”

“oh, i hope you don’t take this the wrong way—sorry if you feel uncomfortable with so many questions.”

“i don’t mind them, keep asking.” you were definitely crossing an invisible territory with the way you bat your lashes at him, swirling your drink, pushing your tits up..just a bit.

himbo soobin getting more tipsy by the minute, he definitely becomes a little loose, a lot more confident with his words, though more susceptible to your teasing remarks, getting flustered every time you decide to slur your voice and actually hold eye contact.

now imagine you end up pushing soobin in a bathroom definitely not meant to fit two, at the party where hundreds of your coworkers are present, and giving him a fucking …handjob. “the bathroom?” he whispers, shocked at his whereabouts. you don’t pay him much mind as you hurriedly unbuckle his jeans, “raise your hands.” you order.

when you realize he didn’t listen to you, you take it upon yourself to take untie his tie, to which he audibly complains, “wait no—my outfitttt..”

“do you want to get like, the handjob of your life or are you going to keep being a whiny bitch?”

you’re not sure where the surge of confidence comes from (considering he could fire you with the snap of his fingers), but it shuts him up. using his expensive tie to keep his hands restrained, arms up high while you play with the himbos dick, haha…im gonna pass because the way hed be sooo whiny, whimpers slipping through but even more so when you experiment with dirty talk to see how he reacts—trying an insult about his work ethic, and how everyone sees him as incompetent, destined to throw the company to the ground..oh yup, there it is, his dick’s reacting. beads of precum’s dribbling down his tip, and you coo having found what he likes. “mr. choi likes getting degraded? imagine if your subordinates found out…”

“don’t—don’t tell anybody..please” its barely a whisper through the gasps you pull out of him every sudden speed up on his girth, but you could pick up on it.

you could’ve reassured him that you won’t, his secrets safe with you, pathetic ceo who likes to be dominated by a woman?!?!! scandalous!!! you obviously wouldn’t tell anybody, and you’ll make sure to clear that up after this but…having some fun wouldn’t hurt. not when you’re already giving your boss a fucking handjob. “my mouths tight shut… if you follow through. no cumming unless i say so.”

#soobin has a ​degradation kink #its canon or whatever #🌷. rana thoughts #txt hard hours #sub!idol #soobin smut

[gilverrwrites]

Takeout Tuesday

Pairing: Human!Castiel/Fem!Reader (Season 9)

Reader has AFAB body parts, hair long enough for pulling, & feminine pronouns’ are used.

A follow-up/sequel too If you will have me, I am yours. But can 100% be read as a stand alone.

Plot: The reader fulfills Castiel's fantasy of reenacting a porno he once watched. (AKA Clarence the pizza-man & the babysitter)

Rating: M/18+

Words: 3138 (all smut)

Content: Porn without plot, roleplaying, Dominate Cas, cheesy porno dialogue, kitchen sex, dirty talk, degradation, name-calling, rough sex, hair pulling, spanking, clothed man/naked woman, teasing, doggy-style, denial/edging, oral (female receiving), bodily fluids, size difference (slightly), begging, choking, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, swearing.

Excerpt: You force yourself not to cringe at the cheesy dialogue as you make your offer; “Maybe I could pay you with my body?” “That would be acceptable.” He responds curtly, taking a decisive step forward, into the doorframe of your shared apartment. 

You checked the time on your phone; 19:45. It was Takeout Tuesday, and Cas should be home any minute. Normally he’d be home by 2, and it was your job to pick up dinner after your own shift finished at 6. But someone had no call, no showed, and ever the Samaritan; Cas had stayed late to help out. He’d called you on his break to let you know he would be home late, and that he would grab food on the way back.  

The sound of knocking on your front door made you jump. Careful to remain quiet, you made your way over, stopping to grab your gun on the way. Carefully you pressed the firearm to the door and leaned up to look through your peephole. Hunter instincts never really die.

Relieved and confused, you lower the gun and unlock the door, finding Cas on the other side. Your confusion only increased as you realised he was not dressed in his normal button-up and blue vest. Instead, he was dressed in a red and black polo and cap, and holding two large pizza boxes, all bearing the logo of your local pizza shop. 

“Cas, I… I don’t know what to ask first.” You wondered aloud. “Where are your keys? Why are you dressed like that?”

“I do not understand.” Cas stated, tilting his head, and narrowing his eyes. You would almost believe him, were it not for the quiver in the corner of his lip. He was holding back a smile. “My name is Clarence. I am here to deliver your pizzas.” 

“Ooooh, right!” You nod hesitantly, a smile sneaking onto your face. You recall a conversation about sexual fantasies, in which Cas had expressed wanting to reenact a porno he’d once seen in which a babysitter had paid for pizza with sexual favours. You stepped back into your hall, simultaneously returning your gun to its designated spot, and pretending to search for your purse. Purposefully arching your back and sticking your out your ass as you acted out searching through drawers and countertops. 

“I’m really sorry, Clarence.” You say, trying to make your voice sound airy and sexy; rejecting the urge to laugh at yourself. You return to the door where you begin to trail your hand up your body slowly, directing Cas’s eyes over your curves as you move upward until you loop a finger in your hair and begin twirling it. “I don’t have any money to pay you.” 

“That is unfortunate.” Cas responds. His tone is serious and deliberate, but the pink in his cheeks, the way he sucked in his lips, and the growing bulge in his pants told you he was enjoying himself.

“Maybe I could pay you another way?” You ask, batting your lashes at him as you continue to play with your hair. You internally pray no neighbours are passing through to overhear you. 

“What would that be?” He asks, unable to prevent himself from nodding, urging you to continue in your little roleplay. 

You grin at him, leaning forward and fiddling with the top of your shirt, pulling it down to try and expose some of your cleavage. You force yourself not to cringe at the cheesy dialogue as you make your offer; “Maybe I could pay you with my body?”

“That would be acceptable.” He responds curtly, taking a decisive step forward, into the doorframe of your shared apartment. 

You briefly contemplate teasing him, telling him to leave the pizza and come back later, once you’d put the imaginary children you were supposed to be babysitting to bed. But the thought passed quickly, he might actually play along, and you were horny, and hungry, but mostly horny. You did not want to wait.  

“Please, come in.” You tell him, stepping back to allow him full access. He quickly passes you. The apartment is small, the front door leads directly into a joined kitchen and living room. The only other rooms are your bedroom and the bathroom. In a few strides, Cas is already standing in the kitchen area where he deposits the pizza boxes on the counter and turns to watch you. You stare right back, taking him in. His shirt is just slightly too tight, drawing attention to the shape of his chest. His arms look thick and strong protruding out of the too-small sleeves. Heat tingles through your body as you watch him cup himself over his jeans, readjusting his growing erection. 

“Do you like what you see?” He asks you, his lips stretching into a mischievous smirk. 

You nod, locking the door and following him into the kitchen. As you approach, he reaches for you, his hands firmly wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. A hand snakes under your shirt, and you enjoy his warm, gentle touch as he slides it up your spine, guiding your upper body in close so he can plant his lips on yours. 

It starts slow and tentative. The brim of his cap rubs against your head as he delicately ghosts his mouth against yours. The kiss quickly grows heated, his lips pressing ever harder against yours. Knees growing weak, you grab onto his shoulders as you open your mouth up for him to explore, and in return his other hand cups the back of your head, locking you in place as he delves his tongue into you. 

You trail one hand down his chest until you reach his belt and begin to unbuckle him. He groans into your mouth, savouring the moments before clamping a hand around yours and pulling you away. Pouting, you break away from the kiss to look up at him. He returns your questioning gaze with a stern one. He places one last kiss on your lips before locking his fist in your hair and pulling you away from him. 

“If you behave, I might give you what you want, but right now you have a job to do.” He taunts, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips. You’re about to ask him what he wants, but he beats you to the punch, releasing your hair as he instructs you. “Take off your clothes.” 

“Yes sir!” You respond before correcting yourself. “Yes Clarence.” 

Castiel hums appreciatively as he watches you undress. Unable to keep his hands off you, he begins assisting. Making quick work of your bra and kicking your jeans across the floor once you get them off. Your face grows hot as he holds you in place, his eyes unabashedly raking across your body, taking in every inch of you. 

“How would you like to use my body?” You question. 

“I want to kiss every inch of it.” He answers matter-of-factly before doing just that. Pushing your back against the kitchen counter he starts pressing passionate, open-mouthed kisses against your jawline, his tongue traces over your skin as he works his way down your neckline, over your collar, your chest. He holts momentarily over your breasts, giving them extra attention. He catches a nipple between his lips and rolls his tongue against it. Your body jerks at the sensation, and his muffled laugh serves to fuel the sensation. Strong fingers replace his lips, both hands roaming your body before attaching to your breasts as he lowers his head further. 

“Hmmm, you like that?" He asks as he drops to his knees and you let out a breathy pant in response. You’re rapidly losing composure as he peppers more kisses over your stomach, and hips. The rough texture of his hat brushes your thighs as he situates himself between your legs. His breath is warm against your core, and you thrust yourself closer to him. He places one last chase kiss on your folds before leaning back to look up at your flushed face. 

His hands release your chest and gesture to the small dining table in the centre of the kitchen area. “Bend over.” 

You’re barely able to open your mouth to complain before he interrupts. “Don’t whine. Do as you’re told.” 

You remain silent as you follow his order. Unable to refrain from frowning at him while you cross the small space and angle your body against the table. Cas is on you before you’re able to finish adjusting yourself. He slips his feet between yours to nudge your legs apart. Firm hands settle in on the curve of your back, directing you to arch your rear out. 

“You have been a very naughty babysitter.” He growls. 

You wiggle your ass at him as you respond. “Are you going to punish me?”

You hear the slap of his hand coming down on your ass cheek before you feel the sting.

“Yes.” His voice is solemn, and you barely have time to think of a response before his hand comes down on you again. You moan out in pain and unconsciously clench your hands around the edge of the table as you brace yourself for the next hit. Cas hesitates slightly, taking a moment to caress your reddening skin before reeling back to deliver another smack. You moan out again and again with each blow. Your head growing fuzzy, unable to think of anything but the heat pooling between your legs, and the stinging of your butt.

When Cas pokes two fingers between your folds you flinch, not expecting the sensation. He runs his fingers up and down, collecting the wetness before retreating. Lazily you stretch your neck back to watch as he brings them close to his face for inspection. You expect him to taste it, he’s never been shy about his affinity for your wetness or cum before, so you’re surprised when he looks over at you with a devious glint. 

“I think you’re enjoying this too much.” He says as he leans over your slumped frame and presses his fingers to your lips. Following his lead, you open up, allowing him to push his fingers into your mouth, to rub your wetness against your tongue. It's sharp and bitter, but you close your mouth around him and suck until his fingers leave your mouth without wet pop. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

That felt like a trick question. Any semblance of an answer is immediately lost when you feel him grind his crotch against your backside. When you don’t respond, he continues. “Do you like this? Being bent over, and spanked like a filthy whore?”

The words sound so outlandish, coming out of Cas’s mouth. Castiel, (former) angel of the lord, calling you a whore. Outlandish, but so fucking hot. 

Unsure if he’s warning, or chastising you, he pulls his body back and lands another strike on your cheek. 

“Fuck. Yes!” You cry, jolting back, pushing your ass against his crotch again. 

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I like it!” You stare forward, unsure if you could look at him without breaking again. “I like being spanked like a filthy whore.” 

Castiel rewards you by placing a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. His voice is hoarse as he leans up and whispers. “Then we shall have to find another way to discipline you.” 

You might regret asking, but that doesn’t stop you. “What did you have in mind?”  

Strong arms lift you; Cas turns you to face him and paces you back onto the table in a seated position before dropping to his knees and maneuvering your legs over his shoulders. 

“Keep your hands behind your back.” He instructs, and the moment your arms are locked behind you he delves in, dislodging his cap along the way. He presses his tongue flat against your clit and licks at it mercilessly. A finger inches up your thigh, and circles your entrance before plunging in. 

You want nothing more than to grip his hair, to use it for purchase as you rub your cunt against him, but you can’t. The added challenge of remaining positioned only adds to your growing frustration. The synchronised feel of his finger fucking into you, and his tongue lapping at your sweet-spot has you panting. 

“Holy fuck. Don’t stop, please.” You muster, trying and failing to buck in rhythm with him. “That feels so good Cas, Cas, Ca- Clarence.”

He murmurs something incomprehensible between your lips and the vibration has you coming undone. Your muscles seize, your legs shoot out, and your head rolls back as you approach your climax. No sooner has it started when Cas pulls back, releasing you completely. 

Your mouth falls open, ready to ask him why he stopped, ready to beg him to come back, to finish you off but all that escapes your lips is a frustrated groan. 

“Don’t worry.” Cas assures you, re-adjusting his hat as he stands up. His arousal is evident from his blown-out pupils and the playful smile on his lips. He cups your face between his hands and pulls you in to rest a kiss on your hairline. You don’t miss the chuckle he tries to suppress. “I’m nowhere near done with you.” 

“Are you going to fuck me, Mr Pizza-man?” Your voice is barely a whisper. “Please?”

“You would enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” It’s not really a question. “You’d like me to bend you over again and stretch you out like a needy slut. You’d liked like me to fuck you right here, wouldn’t you?”

You shiver at his words and reach up for him, wrapping your arms around his neck to draw him closer.

“Yes.” You speak between languid kisses to his jaw, and neck. “Please, please Clarence. I would do anything to feel your cock inside me.” 

“I thought you might. You naughty girl.” He states, grasping your wrists and pulling you away from him. “Turn around.”

It’s an order, but you needn’t act. Using your arms and hips for purchase Cas flips you back over. Fresh waves of excitement shoot through your body as you hear his belt and zipper opening. Your breath hitches when you feel the head of his cock at your entrance. He doesn’t make you wait for it, pushing through your lips and bottoming out in seconds. A low moan escapes him as he does so. 

“You don’t cum until I say so.” He commands as you both adjust. The feel of his dick stretching your walls out makes you feel lightheaded. You whimper your response and begin rocking your hips, urging him to start fucking you. Your motion is halted when you feel his hand in your hair. With little warning, your head is whipped back. “Your body is mine. I will decide when and how to use it. You’ll be fortunate if I let you cum at all. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You answer hastily, you suspect you look like a deer in the headlights. 

“Since you seem to want this so badly, beg for it.” You’re not sure which is more telling to your enjoyment of his dominance. The way your pussy twitches around him, or the involuntary cry you let out. 

“Please… Please Mr Pizza-man, use my pussy.” You begin, through shaky breaths. The excruciatingly slow pump of his body pushing against yours encourages you to keep going. “Use me however you please, I want you, I want to make you cum.” 

“Since you asked so nicely.” Cas pulls back and slams back into you harshly, hand still firmly latched in your hair, keeping you in place as he begins pounding into you, riding you from behind. 

Still on edge from his previous assault, it isn’t long before you felt an orgasm approaching again.

Knowing you won’t be able to fend it off for long you speak up. The jolt of Castiel’s thrusts causes your words to be punctuated by involuntary moans. “Cas, I’m. so. close. Please, I’m. gonna- “ 

“Not yet.” He barks. A moment later he tightens his grip on your hair, forcing you further back until you're close enough for him to lock a hand around your neck. 

Fingers squeeze either side of your throat and you fear you’ll lose your resolve any second. 

For stability, and to try to distract yourself from the growing tension in your cunt, you hold onto his arm. As if determined to make you suffer, Cas slows his speed, focusing on deliberate, torturous thrusts that fill you up and hit all the right places. 

Gurgled cries fall from your lips, attempts to beg for your release, but nothing is intelligible. Unable to move, to breathe, or to think straight, all you can think of is the orgasm you’re barely holding at bay. The pressure of your fingers around the arm holding you by your neck is sure to leave bruises. And then it happens. 

“Now.” He releases his grip on your hair and slides his hand to your folds, erratically pawing until he finds your clit. 

You didn’t really need the extra assistance. You fall apart in an instant, your walls convulsing around his cock, as your body rides the high. Your already tingling, pulsing cunt tightens when you feel the warmth of Castiel’s cum spilling inside you. Low, lethargic hums leave his chest as his thrusts grow sluggish and strained. 

Spent and panting, Cas lets his hands relax, electing to rest them on your waist as he pulls you in, back to his chest for an embrace. His softening cock dislodges as you move together, and you feel his cum trickle out. You elect to ignore it for now, enjoying the hug, and the delicate kisses he places to the back of your head. 

“Do you understand why the pizza-man spanked the babysitter now?” You asked.

The rumble in Cas’s chest as he laughs tickles your skin. “Yes. That was exceedingly enjoyable. How was it for you?”

“That was, amazing.” You concede, turning in his arms until you’re able to rest your face against his chest. He’s smiling down at you, blue eyes filled with admiration. “I should order pizza from Clarence more often.” 

“If that is what you want.” Now that he has a clear view of it, you can see him examining your neck. You’ve no doubt it’s still red, but you doubt it’ll be bruised, at least, not half as much as your ass. “We should get you cleaned up.” 

“Good idea.” You reach up onto your toes and kiss him on the lips. On impulse, you also decide to steal the godforsaken cap from his head and place it on your own before backing towards the bathroom. “Put those pizzas in the oven to reheat, then meet me in the bedroom?”

Cas nods, seemingly unbothered by your thievery as he watches you go. You’ll have to ask him where he got the costume from later. You ask him one last question as you reach the bathroom door. “So, was there ever a sequel to this porno?” 

#castiel x reader #castiel reader insert #castiel #supernatural reader insert #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #castiel smut #castiel fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #human castiel/reader #human castiel #gilverrwrites

[mandomaterial]

I LOVE your Miguel x Reader fic so much! Can we please get another Miguel x Reader where they are complete opposites again, but she isn't use to seeing a scary/violent Miguel. So when she finally sees him like that she gets a little scared and Miguel has to reassure his little angel that he would never behave this way with her. Fluff please because i love your fluff fics!

OFC BBY! I changed it a little so that reader didn’t only see it but also experience it, yk? U’ll see :3 I hope you like it pookie!

Miguel scaring and accidentally hurting you

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✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were on your way to visit your boyfriend of a few months at work, with a little Tupperware box of fresh cookies in hand, you knew that he was Spider-Man and you knew all about the spider-verse. You also knew that Miguel worked very hard to keep the society intact and that it put an immense strain on his mood and health.

He’d come home all grumpy and annoyed, just wanting to cuddle you to death, he wouldn’t even let you get up to make him some food or treats, so today you decided to bring him something to cheer him up. You’d made a variety of cookies, some frosted and others shaped like animals and stars, to some people it might seem like something from a kids birthday party where a trottle ran off with the sprinkles and went crazy with them but it was just how you liked to bake. You knew that some people thought you were weird for dressing in bright colours and having fun hairstyles, sometimes older people would whisper when you walked past them but you didn’t mind, to you the worst possible thing would be being called normal or plain. You didn’t let anyone stop you from buying or making the clothes you thought were cute and today you decided to show off the new skirt you made. You spent all of last week sitting at your desk with your sticker covered sewing machine, securing the fabric and hemming the edges.

It was truly adorable and you loved how it framed your butt and thighs! You matched it with the off white cashmere sweater that Miguel gifted you after only two moths of dating. He knew that you liked cute things so he had little bows added to the sleeves and it warmed your heart every time you thought of his attentiveness. You packed the cookies into a little shoulder bag and set off.

It didn’t take long for you to get to the main office and there you almost crashed into Jessica who you always enjoyed having a little chat with, you always asked how her baby was and if everything was going as planned at HQ, but today she decided to give you a little warning, Miguel had been a little agitated and stressed today, because Gwen got stuck in a mess and brought back a Teenage boy who was never supposed to know about the Spider-verse and how said boy was causing a bit of trouble. You thought nothing much of it and continued looking for him.

Your first stop was his main office, to be honest it looked like the bat cave, with a floating platform that was his favourite. It always made you giggle when you compared Miguel to batman, but he wasn’t there, so you decided to just walk around and see if you’d find him, when you suddenly heard a loud bang. Instinctively you whipped around, running to a large window and what you saw shook you to your core.

It was thousands of spider people chasing after what seemed to be a small figure in a black suit, it was a sight that you’d never seen before, was everything alright? Was that an anomaly? Why were so many chasing it? Millions of thoughts rushed through your head as you sprinted down the stairs to the ground floor to get a better look, but everything was moving so fast that you lost sight of them as that disappeared behind another building.

You rushed through the halls, trying to catch up with them and somehow you ended up in the room with the go-home machine, all while everyone was surrounding Miguel and the young boy who was in the midst of being “sent home” and Miguel had his talons dug into the electric walls of the capsule, almost tearing it apart while growling and yelling. You’d never seen him like this, as if he were a feral creature hunting its prey with cruel intent. Your body started shaking a little as you took a small step back, maybe this was a really bad time. In that moment the capsule fully closed itself, sending the teen home and leaving Miguel seething with rage, ready to demolish anything he got his hands on, when he suddenly noticed his wach showing signs of an anomaly or something that wasn’t supposed to be at headquarters standing only a couple meters behind him.

Without a second thought and with pure rage and will for distraction Miguel lunges backward, his vision blurry with fury as he sunk his claws into the floor, propelling himself closer and closer to his new victim. All the while you didn’t even have time to think, fear filled every fiber of your already tensed body, he made the decision in split-seconds, not even realizing that it was you, his partner, as he rushed closer to you. You started stumbling back, screaming his name, but nothing helped clear his mind. Miguel stretched out his right arm, talons out as far as they could go, ready to tear you to shreds.

His usually gentle fingers wrapped themselves tightly around your neck, nicking you and squeezing tight, you felt him almost crush your throat but that wasn’t the end of it. Miguel flexed his arm, lifting you up into the air and just as he was about slam you down with all his force, he had a moment of clarity, his heat almost stopped as he recognized your face, albeit it was contorted in ear and pain. He noticed how tight his grip on your neck was and how you were scratching at his hand for a single breath, as he cut off your air way. His eyes widernd, fear and regret washing over him. Instead of glamming you to the ground, he quickly let go of your neck and pressed you to his chest. He felt your tears wet his suit and he heard you cries. Your cries were pain filled and your voice hoarse as he tried to comfort you by rocking you back and forth gently. He knew that it was his fault. What had he done? What if you never wanted to see him again?

He did something he swore to never let happen. He hurt you. He made you fear him. Miguel commanded everyone to leave, so that the two of you could calm down and as soon as it was only the two of you, he collapsed to his knees. It was like your tears were never ending and your fingers weakly grabbed onto him, barely able to hold on as you hid your face in his chest.

“I’m sorry…” Miguel whispered, his voice cracking as he continued muttering “I’m so sorry.. please forgive me.. I didn’t mean t-to…” he whimpered, but it was like you didn’t hear it, way too caught up in the scenario that played out just minutes ago. Your heart was going a mile a minute and you were hyperventilating, not being able to calm your breathing. Minutes passed and Miguel was still rocking back and forth, as if comforting a crying child, the horrid scenes kept replaying in his mind and he didn’t know how to make it better.

Your cries slowly turned to whines and hiccups, you moved around in his lap, trying to find a comfortable position when he gently lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, he opened his mouth but said nothing for a few seconds until he finally whimpered “I love you, you know that, right?” He pulled you into a close hug, not even waiting for your response, he squeezed you as close to him as he could, his anger long gone. “P-please don’t leave me…” he continued, he sounded utterly broken and that only made you shed more tears, you didn’t want to be sad, you didn’t want him to be sad, this was just a stupid accident right? He didn’t mean it…

You nodded a little and tried to speak, but nothing audible came out, only whimpers and whines. Miguel pulled the two of you apart, gently placing his large hand onto the crown of your head, carefully lacing his fingers between your hair as he looked at your little form that was dwarfed by his own. “It was and accident… please forgive me…” he muttered as his eyebrows scrunched together in regret. You replied with a little nod, your lower lip still wobbling a little. Miguel caressed your hair a bit before moving lower to your neck, he pushed your hair back and revealed a couple red scratches going almost all the way around. He felt so ashamed that he’d hurt you, that he was the cause of your pain. Ge gently brushed his fingers over them and you let oust a little wince. He’d take you to the med bay right after this, he promised.

Only then did he notice what you were wearing, first he looked at the sweater. It was the one he had custom made for you, when he saw it in the store window he thought about how’d you look like a fluffy baby alpaca in it and he just had to get it for you. He touched the soft fabrics and slid his grand down your arm, intertwining his fingers with your slender ones. Next he noticed the skirt, ha hadn’t seen it in your closet or anywhere else?. Did you buy it? No it fits too well for that… you probably made it. He couldn’t help but let a soft smile cross his face. The room was almost silent so he tries to shift your attention to a different topic “Did you make this?” He gently rubbed the b fabric between two of his fingers.

You looked around quite confused for a moment until you found what he was talking about, you rubbed your eyes a little and gave him another nod “y-yea, i finished yesterday.” Your voice was barely audible and littered with hiccups.

“It’s cute” he replied, placing his hands on your hips and shifting your body so that you were sitting sideways on his lap with your head leaning on his pec. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled closer, almost purring. You liked sitting like this, on his lap and utterly surrounded by him, it made you feel small and soft, like a precious delicate possession of his.

You could feel how worried he was, it washed off him like waves and you wanted to make him feel better, so you cupped his jaw and whispered “I’m okay Miguel, you didn’t hurt me” as soon as he heard, you could almost physically hear the stones dropping from his heart and his spirit lifting. The two of you were definitely feeling better but there was still a bit left to talk about, so Miguel decided that it was time to leave. He rose to his feet but kept you in his arms, you rolled over a little and decided to play with his hair as he walked out of the now silent room. Your fingers wrapped themselves around the little short curls at the back of his neck, it was one of your favourite parts of his hair because it was so much more curly than the longer pieces.

Miguel felt your little fingers and could stop the lopsided smile that formed on his face, sure he still had work to do, but to be honest, for once in his life, he didn’t care. He’d do it tomorrow and surely get an ear full from Jessica.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Once Miguel stepped through the doorway a long sigh left his chapped lips, he still felt quite bad about what happened today, but he knew that you’d forgiven him and that you weren’t upset. You fell asleep in the car, so he decided to be the good boyfriend he was and carry you up to his penthouse. You often slept over at his place because you liked the big windows and loved his comfy king sized bed. Normally you fell asleep earlier than him and once he got to bed, he’d find you in your cute pink jammies, laying starfish with one of your legs over the blanket and the pillows long thrown off the sides. He couldn’t help but snap a little picture, you were just too adorable.

So now he careful layer you down on the side you preferred to sleep on. He took off your socks and reached under your shirt to unclasp your bra and pull it off you so you wouldn’t wake up in pain, before covering you with his blanket. Once you were tucked in, he strode over to one of his cupboards in the bathroom and pulled out one of the first aid kits (he has multiple stocked) and pulled out a salve. He rummaged around further until he found your favourite bandaids, the ones with the cute shapes on them and walked back to his bedroom.

You were sleeping soundly as he sat down right next to you, careful not to dip the mattress too much, he gently stroked your hair back so that he could tend to the little wounds on your neck. Guilt shot through him again once they were revealed, t be honest they weren’t even that bad, but he knew how sensitive to violence you were and he knew that the scare was probably worse than the pain. Nevertheless he dipped his fingers in the salve and started softly rubbing it over the red marks and covered them with the bandaids after. After a few minutes he was satisfied and snuggled up to you, making you the little spoon, he wrapped his arms around your wast to pull you close. And just like that, all cuddled up, the two of you fell asleep, meeting again in your dreams.

#Miguel #miguel x you #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara x reader angst #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader fluff #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara #Miguel ohara fluff #Miguel O’hara fluff #Miguel x reader angst fluff #miguel x reader fluff #spiderman #atsv #x reader comfort #x hurt reader #Miguel hurting reader #Miguel scaring reader #reader scared of Miguel #how do i tag thisss? #Miguel O’hara chasing reader

[strawberryspence]

ceilings, plaster, can’t you just make it move faster?

Steddie Week / Day 2: Fluff and Angst ( @steddie-week )

-

There’s beeping on his side as Steve slowly gains consciousness. He can hear birds chirping, and the trees dancing against the wind. Which was weird, because he remembers closing the window last night.

“Pst! Steve!”

Steve’s eyes shot open, jumping out the bed to reach for his spiked bat when he sees Eddie’s head wedged between his bedroom windows. He looks like a damn burglar.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Steve drops his bat, rushing to open the windows wider, “Eddie? What the hell are you doing?!”

Eddie jumps clumsily inside the bedroom, “Like a ninja!” Steve bites down laughter. If he looked as dorky as this man, he doesn’t even know why Nancy dated him.

“Why are you here?”

Eddie pokes his ribs, “Are you really asking me that?”

Steve swats his hand away, “Yes. It’s a perfectly normal question to ask when you’ve just been woken up by a man who climbed your roof.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie sings, “We have a date.”

Steve gapes at him, “What? Was that today?”

“Yes.” Eddie laughs. There’s no hint of anger or remorse in his voice, “Go on, get ready for the day. I’ll make you some brunch.”

Rushing to get ready, Steve showers and dresses up in his favorite Levis and polo. His hair also doesn’t take him more than 5 minutes to sculpt. It’s like he’s having the luckiest damn day ever. When he finally walks out of his room, the smell of waffles and coffee spreads through his senses.

Steve sits on the counter, “I am sorry for forgetting about our date, Eds. It completely slipped my mind.”

Eddie laughs, pushing a plate of waffles in front of him, “No worries, sweetheart. You’re still healing, you deserve all the rest.”

There’s a pause as Steve squints at him.

“Healing? Healing from what?”

Eddie shakes his head, “None of that now. Eat so we can go to the carnival.”

“Carnival?” Steve perks up at the mention of a carnival, “There’s a carnival in town?”

Eddie nods, his mouth stuffed with a forkful of waffle. Steve’s always wanted to have a carnival date, but the last time the carnival was in town, Steve was too busy trying to stay alive in an underground Russian bunker.

“Yep! So get some food in you and we’ll go. We’re burning daylight here.” Eddie urges him to eat.

Steve laughs, “Slow down. The carnival won’t leave.”

Steve takes the first bite of his waffle and literally moans on the spot. The waffle melts on his mouth, a combination of sweet and soft sensations bursting.

“Oh my god.” He moans, stuffing himself another bite, “Did you freaking make this?!”

Eddie smirks, “Yes.”

“Why the hell is it so good?”

“It’s my mom’s recipe. I only pull it out for the pretty boys.”

Steve chokes on a bite, his cheeks flushing, “So I am just another pretty boy now, huh?” Eddie cackles at his reaction, pushing a glass of water his way.

There’s a twinkle of warmth in his eyes, and a smile so soft Steve knows for sure it’s only for him, “The prettiest boy.”

-

The carnival was— perfect. It had everything Steve has ever wanted to try. In a sense, it’s like everything was catered for his pleasure.

Steve looks around in wonderment, as people walk and move past them, “Dude, we should’ve bought the kids!”

There’s a sharp pain in his chest as he remembers the kids, but it's gone as quick as it came. Steve clutches his chest, chasing the pain.

Eddie looks at him, hands immediately wrapping around him in concern, “Stevie? Are you okay?”

“No. I— I just—“ He tries to straighten up and he feels… nothing, “Nothing. I think my heart skipped a beat or something.”

Eddie smirks at him, but his eyes soft with worry, “Sweetheart, I haven’t even held your hand.”

Steve feels his face heat up, “Oh, shut up.”

“Well. Which one do you want to do first? Ride some rides? Play some games?” Eddie pulls him by the hand, intertwining their hands together as they walk around the park, “You know what, I’ll win you one of those bears from one of the games!”

They spend the next few hours just playing and riding rides. They tried numerous carnival foods that Steve was never allowed to try as a kid. It's the first time Steve has actually gone to a carnival and had fun. Eddie’s loud and crass and wonderful in so many ways. He has tricks for game after game, and even if he’s scared on some rides, he still rides for Steve.

It’s the perfect date.

“Eds, you can stop trying. You’re wasting your money.” Steve whispers as Eddie hands more money to the carnival personnel.

“I am going to get you that damn bat toy and I won’t stop until my wallet is empty.” Eddie winks at him, as he squats and stares at the barrel of the water gun.

Eddie concentrates intensely as he tries to get the water to shoot on the hole. The personnel look bored as he watches them, but Steve only has eyes for Eddie. There’s pure determination on his face, squinting hard so he can finally win the damn bat toy. Steve shouldn’t have should interest on it to begin with.

The lights above it start lighting up one by one, Eddie just has to reach the top and he can finally get the stuffed toy. Steve doesn’t even realize that they won because he was only staring at Eddie.

“Jesus Christ! Finally!” Eddie grabs the bat toy from the personnel, hopping up and down with joy. His lips stretched into a huge smile, and his eyes bright with excitement.

Steve wishes he could stay in this moment forever. In this light and sparkling moment with this person that he could love— this person he might already love.

“One bat stuffed toy for your majesty.” Eddie kneels one knee, and presents the stuffed toy like it’s a bar of gold. Steve plays along, nodding ceremoniously, before taking the bat into his hand.

It’s not a bar of gold, not a crown, not a diamond. But it’s Steve’s most prized possession.

A personnel walks past them, shouting in a megaphone, “One more hour till closing!”

“The carnival’s closing?” Steve asks as Eddie straightens up.

“Apparently. You want to do one last ride?”

Steve shrugs, “Sure. I think I have…” He pauses, tries to think of what he had planned for tomorrow. Weirdly enough, he can’t think of anything.

Eddie pulls him along, “There’s one more ride I want to visit before the sun sets.”

As they walk past the stalls, the lights start flickering open. Bright, colorful lights start surrounding them. It’s not dark enough yet, but Steve knows it’ll be beautiful in the dark.

“Here!” They enter the line for the ferris wheel, which was surprisingly empty, “Come on!"

The personnel lets them in on one of the carts, smiling respectfully as he locks it, “See you on the other side.”

The wheel starts moving, slowly but surely and soon enough, they’re on the top. From where Steve is sitting he watches as people walk around the carnival like tiny little ants. The sky starts changing its colors. The bright blue, turning into a softer orange and pink.

“It’s beautiful.” Steve whispers, breathless as he sees the entirety of his hometown.

Eddie chuckles quietly beside him, reaching for his hand and taking into his, “It is.” Steve turns to him and catches his eyes on him.

The ride stops as they arrive at the top. The cart moves ever so slightly, and it feels like someone lulling him to sleep. Steve lets his head fall on Eddie’s shoulder as he watches the scene in front of him.

“Did you have fun today?” Eddie asks, his thumb softly caressing Steve’s hand.

“Yeah.” Steve sighs in content, “I think I’m going to bring Robin here tomorrow.”

A sharp pain stabs him again, the same one he felt earlier. Steve jolts up, as he clutches at his chest again, massaging it slowly, “What the hell is that?”

“I think it’s time, Steve.” Eddie says, there’s a hint of sadness in his voice.

Steve turns to him, confused, “Time for what?”

Eddie moves closer, cupping his jaw into his hand, “Time for you to wake up.”

“I am awake.” Steve pulls away, narrowing his eyes.

He shakes his head, “No, sweetheart. You have to wake up.”

The beeping is back, and Steve swings his head around to see where the sound is coming from. He gasps as he looks down at the ground, all of the people are gone now. It’s just— It’s just him and Eddie, on top of the ferris wheel.

“What’s happening?” Steve demands.

Eddie tilts his head, “You don’t remember?”

Steve shakes his head, as Eddie takes his hand again, “Here. Close your eyes.”

He gulps, but obeys. The beeping subsides.

Eddie starts talking, “We went back to the Upside Down, to finish what we started and then—“

Lights start flashing in his eyes, like thunder striking in the dark. Vines strewn everywhere in the ground.

Steve remembers screaming, lots of screaming. He remembers running in front of Robin. He remembers using all his strength, he remembers killing a monster, he remembers using his body as a shield. He remembers— he remembers pain. All around his body, like sharp pain, heightened a thousand times over. He remembers hearing sobbing and Robin begging him to stay.

He tried.

Steve gasps awake. “Robin? Is Robs okay?”

Eddie grins at him fondly, “Yes, sweetheart. Robin is alright.”

Steve looks down at his hands, “Am… I dead?” His eyes widened in realization, “Eddie? Are you dead?”

“I am not sure, sweetheart.” Eddie shrugs, “I don’t remember a lot either. I just woke up here and then— I remembered that before we went to fight Vecna, you…” Eddie laughs, his cheeks flushing, “You asked me on a date. To go to a carnival. So here I am.”

The beeping is back, and it’s louder than ever. There’s a gust of wind that brings a soft whisper, “Dingus. Please.”

“Robin’s calling me.” Steve whispers.

“I know.” Eddie says back, “You have to go back.”

“We have to go back. Together.”.

Eddie smiles at him, but it’s small and painful and Steve hates it. “I can’t hear any beeping, Stevie.”

His lips quiver, Steve starts shaking his head, “No. No. We have to go together or I am not leaving.”

Eddie holds onto him tighter, “No. You have to go back. You have to wake up.”

“Will you be there?”

Eddie blinks, pursing his lips in contemplation, “I am not sure.”

Steve clenches his jaw, swallowing the lump forming on his throat, “Are you real? Was any of this real?”

Steve looks around. The carnival is now gone. It’s just him, and Eddie and the ferris wheel. The sky is still there, watching over them in a combination of beautiful orange and pink hues. The sun is still setting, vividly and slowly. The end slowly sinking into the horizon.

Eddie giggles, “Of course, I am real, sweetheart. Everything was real.”

“Then I want to stay.”

“No, baby. You have to go back. Listen to the wind.” Eddie pulls him closer, leaning his forehead into his.

Steve lets his eyes flutter shut as the wind shakes the cart, tiny little voices being brought by the wind, tiny little pleads from Robin, Dustin, Max, Erica— from everyone. Everyone pleading and begging for him to wake up and come back.

“Can you hear it now?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods against him, as Eddie continues, “Everyone needs you. You have to go back.”

“I promise to find you. When I wake up, I will find you.” Steve promises, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to live in a world without Eddie Munson in it.

Eddie nods, there’s a look in his eyes that doesn’t fully believe it, but he says, “I’ll be waiting for you, sweetheart.”

Eddie leans over, his lips soft against Steve’s. Steve tries to map it out, tries to memorize it as best as he can. Eddie’s lips are chapped and rough, but it’s the softest and most gentle kiss Steve has ever had. He reaches over to wipe the tears streaming down Steve’s cheeks.

The beeping gets louder, insistent and— There’s a sharp pain in his chest and it feels like getting struck by lightning.

Eddie pulls away, “Wake up, sweetheart.”

There’s heaviness in his chest and then— Steve gasps, opening his eyes. It feels exactly like being drowned, and being able to finally breathe again.

“Oh my god! Steve!” He hears a voice sob. It’s a voice he would recognize anywhere.

The heaviness lifts away, and silhouettes surround him. Steve holds out his hand, and someone takes it.

“Dingus.” Robin sobs, “I thought I lost you.”

Steve can feel tears running down his cheeks. He looks around, his eyes getting used to the light. He blinks at everyone, roaming his eyes on each one of them.

He turns back to Robin and behind her is a big window. The sky is streaks of orange, the sun obviously setting. It looks exactly the same as the sky from his dreams. It was real.

Steve opens his mouth, his tongue feels heavy and sharp, but he wills himself.

“Eddie.”

(The beeping starts slowly, barely even there. The cart lulls against the wind and caresses his cheeks, with it a silent whisper of his name.

He smiles and waits.)

#steddieweek2023 #day 1: fluff and angst #aha #im back on my shittttt back on my rooootssssss #surprise mfers i love you all #heavily inspired by ceilings by lizzy mcalpine #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie headcanon #steddie hc #steddie fanfic #dae writes #daeheadcanons

[dulcesiabits]

stars you only see during the day.

summary: reo mikage needs a date for his parties, and you need something to do during the summer. What could possibly go wrong when you both enter a contractual relationship?

notes: 11k words, fic, author's notes, fake dating, trying to capture goofy summer fun romcom vibes

Swanky parties like this are so not your style. 

Lavishly dressed guests buzz in little groups, sporting designer handbags and miles of silk that cost more than your entire house. Tropical fishes swim in tranquility through the glass tanks of the walls, which cast blue light over the white tablecloths and platters of prime cut roasts and elaborately crafted desserts dusted in gold dust.

Honestly, you wouldn’t normally have been allowed into a place like this; the security guards would have taken one look at your sneakers and chain store jeans and told you to go home. But you’re not here as a guest. No, your sister has hooked you up with a gig as a caterer, so you’re actually one of the invisible waitstaff in a stiff black vest and white collared shirt, drifting amongst the crowd, serving rich people their fancy little foods.

“It pays well,” your sister had pronounced, batting her eyelashes at you. “Come on. You’re always strapped for cash. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“And if it’s so good, why aren’t you going?” you had asked her dryly. 

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t have the time. Otherwise I’d be hustling with you. Come on, do it for me! It’ll be fun! The place will be nice, promise!” 

Nice is an understatement for how decadent the place is. If you were to break something here, you think your family would be in debt for the next seven generations over. But since you’re captive to your need for money, you try to skirt past the pricer decorations. 

Still. Your sister is right in that this is a simple, and more importantly, well-paying, gig. Get in, walk around aimlessly with a platter in your hand, and get out. That’s all you were looking forward to, really: the paycheck at the end of this. You vaguely recognize some of the guests– probably from the news or on social media, A-list celebrities and trust fund babies– but you don’t care enough to take a closer look.

It’s been a few hours into your shift, and your arm is starting to cramp from carrying around a silver plate for most of the evening. The little shrimp on your plate are dwindling, and you rotate around the room slowly one last time to tempt people to grab your food. Then, you can take a break and put up your feet, and maybe sneak a little bit of the fancy food to try yourself; after all, you heard that some of the ingredients were imported straight from Europe.

You pass by a pack of guests knotted together near a table, and one of them bumps into you with enough force to make you stumble, some youngish looking man in a white suit and slicked-back bleached hair. He barely spares you a glance. 

“Watch where you’re going or I’ll get you kicked out,” he snarls.

“Right. Sorry, sir,” you say blandly, fighting back the urge to strangle him and ask “who the hell do you think you are?” Your sister has warned you to stay out of trouble, after all.

“Don’t bother the waitstaff, Takei-san,” someone says just as Takei sneers, opening his mouth to berate you some more, probably. He looks the type. But Takei’s head swivels back around so fast it makes you dizzy. You crane your head, just in time to catch the owner of the voice: a boy with a flute of fizzy water in his hand. He’s cute, with uneven bangs and a dove gray suit, and probably around your age, if not a little older.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mikage-san,” Takei simpers. “Ah, but we have more important matters to discuss, don’t we? What do you think about meeting my sister? She’s lovely, and she’s around your age. Just say the word, and I can arrange a meeting!” 

Mikage? Is that the boy’s name? It’s familiar. You’ve seen it on social media a few times; maybe this boy is a lot more famous than you thought. He’s a corporate heir, if you remember correctly. Mikage catches your eye and inclines his head, as if to say you were free to go. 

“I would have to think about it, Takei-san,” Mikage replies, turning back to Takei. If there’s one thing you can pride yourself on, it’s how to read people, and there’s plenty to dissect from Mikage’s tense body posture. There’s a smile on his face, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. In fact, he looks a little bored, underneath that veneer of politeness. Bored, and strangely vacant, as if the uppercrust of Japan’s society weren’t more interesting than the blades of grass outside of his window.

Normally, you would shrug, go “that sucks for him,” and run back to the break room as soon as you could. The problems of fancy rich boys aren’t really your business. But it’s been a long night, and you’re a little antsy (your troublemaking instinct, as your sister calls it). That, and maybe you’ve watched too many romcoms and dramas with your sister recently, too, because he’s cute. And, well, you should at least try to help out the guy who helped you, right? Tic for tat, and all that, even if it was a small thing on his part.

But none of your justifications to yourself really matter, because you’re already sliding your way into the crowd until you’re at Mikage’s elbow, saying, “sir?”

He inclines his head at you without really looking at you. “Yes?”

“There’s someone looking for you,” you say blandly. “They were impatient. It seemed important.”

“Hm? Did they tell you their name?” Mikage asks.

“Didn’t quite catch it, but it’s urgent,” you stress.

Mikage’s eyes widen, just slightly, and you can see the puzzle pieces coming together in his head. He must have picked up on what you were doing, because he nods gravely, and says, “I should head over, then. It’s probably Yasuhiro-san. Can’t keep a board member waiting.”

“Ah, but Mikage-san–” Takei’s mouth is slightly slack, and he glares at you when you catch his eye. What did you even do to him? Is he mad that you’re taking Mikage’s attention off of him?

“I should go.” Mikage extracts himself from the crowd, who all groan in disappointment. As the two of you leave, you make sure to subtly dig the heel of your shoe onto Takei’s foot, who yelps.

“What the– Did you just step on– Hey! Stop!” 

But you’re speeding off with Mikage at your side, and you try not to grin when you imagine Takei’s red, angry face. 

Mikage snorts, but when you glance at him, he’s passed it off as a cough, turning his face into the crook of his elbow. “You’re a bit clumsy, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say primly, and this time, Mikage doesn’t hide his laugh. To keep up your ruse, you lead Mikage into a hallway, where rows of imported European impressionist art stretch along the walls, your footsteps sinking into the plush burgundy carpet.

“So… I have to be honest,” you say. “There isn’t someone asking for your presence. I made it up to get you out of there. Surprise!” You wave your hands.

Mikage crosses his arms. “So why did you do that, then?”

“You helped me, so I helped you,” you say simply. “Besides, you looked bored.”

In the darkness, Mikage is reduced to shadowy shapes, but you can still feel the force of his gaze, like a lighthouse cutting through the darkness. He’s appraising you, and it sends tingles down your spine.

“Huh.” That’s all Mikage says, and you wonder if you passed whatever mental evaluation he was doing.

 The platter is still in your hands, and there’s still a few shrimp left, so you grab one and shove it into your mouth. You chew, savoring the freshness, and the tangy sauce it’s coated in.

Wait. It’d be rude to just eat in front of someone, without even asking if they’re hungry. You offer Mikage the plate. “Want one?”

“S… sure,” he says, carefully plucking a shrimp between his thumb and forefinger, before placing it on his tongue. The two of you pass the platter back and forth between each other until it’s empty.

“That was good!” You stretch your arms over your head. “I wanted to try at least some of the food at this party before I went home. There’s nothing else really going for this place. No offense,” you add. 

“None taken. You’re… huh.”

“Weird? Bold?” you supplement. “I’ve heard it all.”

“No, I was going to say you’re interesting,” Mikage says quickly.

You roll your eyes. “Interesting? Like a dog?”

“I would say you remind me more of a hamster,” Mikage says. 

“A hamster? Really? What if I bit you right now?”

“I’m not sure you could do much to me.”

“I wouldn’t want to damage my teeth, anyways,” you quip. The noise of the party leaks into the hallway, and you glance back through the door. “I should get back. I don’t want to give anyone an excuse to dock my pay.”

Before you can move a step, Mikage holds out a hand. He takes a breath, as if coming to some sort of internal decision. “Wait. What if… I hired you for something else?”

“For… what?”

“What if I hired you to stand around and talk to me?” 

You take a step back. “Um… I’m a first year in high school, just so you know. I don’t want to do anything weird.”

“Wh– No!” Mikage says, his veneer of poise sliding right off and shattering onto the floor. “I didn’t mean it like that! I’m not asking you to– I just– I’m only a second year!” he adds.

“Takei did offer to introduce you to his sister back there,” you say wryly, jerking your thumb towards the party. “And, like, I don’t know much about your life, but if you’re desperate enough for company, there’s dating apps. Just… uh… hang in there.”

Mikage runs a hand along his face. “I’m not desperate. I’m the most popular guy in my class, just so you know.”

“Okay…”

“I wanted to ask if you would date me,” he says, “Fake date me. Because people like Takei keep trying to jump down my back and draw me into political marriages. We can draw up a contract to make it official,” he adds hastily. “I just need someone to come with me to parties like this as my partner.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you’re interesting,” he says simply. “Besides… you would get to eat as much shrimp as you want. Without having to sneak them off of plates.” 

“I don’t know,” you say coyly, looking down at your fingers. “I don’t really like doing boring things.”

“It won’t be boring.” Mikage takes a step towards you, confidence in his face, a hand on his chest. “I’ll ensure everyday is fun for you.” 

You can already imagine what your sister will say when you tell her what happened today. No doubt she and your older brother would both groan at your carelessness. What if this is some sort of prank, or fancy trick? Oh well! You’ll just have to take your chances. 

You stick out your hand. Mikage takes it without hesitation. “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal. But if it’s boring, then I’m going to leave you, Mikage,” you warn. 

“Hah. You’ll never have a reason to,” Mikage says confidently. “But call me Reo.”

You raise an eyebrow. “We just met, and you want me to call you by your first name? Moving fast, are we?”

“I’m going to be your fake boyfriend,” Mikage says. “Don’t tell me you’re already getting cold feet.” 

“Not at all. You can call me by my first name too, Reo,” you emphasize. “I’m looking forward to working with you.” 

Reo smiles, squeezing your hand once before firmly shaking it. “Likewise, partner.” 

Well. This certainly isn’t what you expected to get up to when your sister offered you the job, and there are a thousand ways this could blow up in your face. What if Reo is actually a bad person, and tried to sell your organs? Or his mother threw money at you and told you to leave her son because you aren’t good enough for him, just like in every drama you’ve seen?  

But this is the most exhilarating opportunity you’ve been offered in a long while. Exciting experiences, and fun opportunities: you’ve always been the first to jump onto those. Besides, Reo is cute, and this deal will definitely be a good story to tell your friends about later. There’s no way this could go wrong.

—

You’re usually never up before 10am, but somehow, at 8am a few days after the party you worked at, you find yourself at a little cafe in Shibuya, blinking blearily in the pale light. Reo, sitting across from you, has a cup of coffee steaming at his elbow, and you privately curse his poise and his nice polo and slacks. How dare he look so put together, especially when you just threw on some clothes from your floor.

“So,” you say, propping your elbows on the table, your cheek pressed against your hand, “What was so urgent that you couldn’t wait for a more decent hour to call me?”

Reo raises an eyebrow. “This is a decent hour. But I wanted to discuss the terms of our contract.” 

You stare at him blankly. He snaps his fingers. “Remember? Our deal?”

“Right.” You yawn, and Reo pushes his cup of coffee towards you.

“I haven’t drank any of it yet,” he says. “Have some.”

“So no indirect kiss for me?” you tease, but take a tentative sip of the brew. You wrinkle your nose; it’s bitter and dark, and it stings your mouth as it goes down. “You didn’t put cream in this.”

“I like the way coffee tastes naturally. Besides, the coffee they brew here is through a special drip pour method, to allow the beans to retain maximum flavor…” You take another sip as Reo rambles, and shudder. Well, you were definitely more awake now.

“So, what is this about a contract?” you say. 

“I want us to establish some ground rules for our deal, just so we’re both clear on the expectations and procedures for what we’re about to undertake,” Reo begins. He slides a packet of paper across the table, the kind that’s made with cardstock, thick and creamy. It’s neatly formatted, but your eyes glaze at the professional tone and the dry language of the text.

“All right, hit me with it, rich boy,” you say, slouching back in your chair.

“Well, I wanted to establish a basic time frame for our operation, as well as some ground rules, and cover some of the various scenarios you might encounter–” You put up a hand, and Reo pauses. 

“Do you have a pen?” you say bluntly. 

Reo fishes out a fountain pen from his bag. “I do, but why do you–”

You flip over the packet to the blank backside, and write down a number one. “So! I think it’s really nice of you to get this entire thing prepared for us, but this is too much. We’re high schoolers, and your rules are 15 pages long. Why don’t we make this easier on ourselves?”

Reo purses his lips. “I guess. For the sake of fairness, it’s probably better if we come up with rules together.”

“Great! So, rule number one. We’re going to be fake dating until you stop needing a date to your parties. That’s probably going to be when summer ends, so that’s when our contract ends. Rule number two. I’ll go with you to all your fancy parties, but you have to help me with, like, etiquette and clothes and what to say. I’ll just be your eye candy. Which I absolutely excel at, by the way. Rule number three. I’ll go to as many parties as you want, but you need to give me at least two days’ warning in advance. I have my own life, you know.” You scribble as you talk, and Reo nods at each of your rules. When you pause, you look up to see Reo with furrowed eyebrows.

“Add another rule,” Reo says seriously. “No falling for each other.”

You burst out laughing, dropping the pen in surprise. A few early morning workers stare at you as they walk past, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. “Seriously? Do you think this is a drama?”

“It’s a necessary precaution,” he insists, but his ears are red. “I just want to make it absolutely clear: this is all for show.”

You snort, but move to jot down the rule anyways. “No offense, but you’re not my type at all. That’s not going to be an issue. You’re kinda full of yourself, huh?”

“I’m not! I’m just saying with my specs, it wouldn’t be weird if you–” Reo falters at your pointed stare. “Listen. I’m used to all sorts of people coming up to me. It doesn’t hurt to be careful, okay?”

“Maybe you’re scared of falling for me, Reo,” you say, leaning forward and batting your eyelashes at him. “I understand, though. I’m pretty cute.”

Reo purses his lips. “And no offense to you, but you’re also not my type at all. I prefer people who are more mature.”

You throw your hands up in mock offense. “Wow! Only five minutes since our fake relationship began, and you’re already hurting my feelings.”

“My apology, baby,” Reo says in a cloying tone. “How on earth shall I make it up to you?”

You shudder. “For starters, don’t call me baby ever again. Ick.”

“I don’t–” Reo begins indignantly, but you quickly scribble your signature under your list of rules, before thrusting the paper at him. “What?”

“Sign your name,” you say, “So it’s official. Isn’t that how you business types like to do things?”

“We’re minors. Our signatures don’t count. But if you insist,” Reo says, signing his name with an elegant scrawl.

“Perfect! Now that we’re officially dating, what do we do?” you say.

“What about a date? A practice one,” Reo says hastily. A pity, because now you can’t tease him about how enamored he is with you. “It’ll be easier to act like a couple at parties if we’re more familiar with each other.”

“All right. Come pick me up in two days, then. And at noon,” you add, “Because I don’t want to do an early morning date.”

“What about right now?” Reo protests.

You throw him a withering stare. “First, I’m not dressed for the part. Second, neither of us are prepared. And third, what did I just say about early morning dates? We need a bit of planning time, rich boy, because dates are serious business.”

Reo holds up his hands. “Okay, okay. I got it. I’ll run our plans with you by tomorrow, at the latest. Sounds good?”

You smile. “Great! Sounds like you’ve already got being a good boyfriend down pat. See you in two days, boyfriend.”

—

If there’s one thing Reo is, he’s meticulous. After you part ways, you exchange phone numbers, and true to his word, he blows up your phone with a detailed plan of your first date. He’s so overzealous in planning that you remind him it’s just a practice date, and that it’s better to keep things casual, rather than the boating-fancy restaurant-live musicians extravaganza he has planned.

Two days later, when you ascend from the subway steps into the sticky summer heat and walk a few blocks until the concrete turns to greenery, you find Reo waiting at a nearby park, sunglasses on his face and a wicker basket under his arm.

“Welcome,” Reo says, making a half-bow. “I hope you’re ready for the date of a lifetime.”

“I’m giving you three stars of five,” you say.

“Wh– We haven’t gone on it yet! How can you rate me that low?”

“Two out of five,” you say. “Just for talking back to me and questioning my review.”

“Let’s just hurry up and go,” Reo grumbles. 

The two of you glide alongside blossoming trees, white flowers perfuming the air, and cross a stone bridge stretched invitingly along a river. The water rushes cold and clear across gray stones, a weeping willow trailing its graceful limbs on the opposite bank.

When you reach a narrow glade, Reo gallantly unfurls a blanket and spreads it along the grass. From the wicker basket emerges a rainbow of sandwiches, freshly cut fruit slices, and a thermos of tea.

He pours you a cup, and you take a sip as Reo settles down with a sandwich.

“You went through a lot of trouble to set up this contractual date,” you say, picking up a slice of skewered mango. “What’s the point? Couldn’t you just hire someone else?”

“Do you think I could set up an ad, announcing to the world that the Mikage heir is looking for a partner?” he says dryly. “Any of the other people I could have asked run in my parents’ business circle, too, so it wouldn’t have been convenient for me. And I’m not risking my own social standing at school by asking a girl from there. That leaves you.”

You twirl the mango around. “What if I was, like, a bad person, though? And I leaked your personal information or something?”

“I ran a background check on you. You came up clean.”

“What? Hey! That’s not fair. I didn’t get to run one on you,” you protest.

“I’m someone in the public eye,” he says. “Anything you want to know about me, you can look up online.” 

To be fair, you had googled his name when you got home after your morning meeting, and scrolled through his various public social media accounts. Not that he needed to know that. Wait, maybe he already did, if he ran a background check on you. Did he have access to your internet history? Okay. Maybe it’s better to stop thinking about that before you drive yourself insane.

“But that’s not the same as getting to know you. The person Mikage Reo is in public, and the person he is in private are two different people. Tell me something juicy. Like, why don’t you just reject any proposals thrown your way instead of getting a fake partner?” you say.

Reo spreads his hands. “Social maneuvering. It’s better to ward off people from sending proposals to me in the first place than it is to reject each and every person who approaches me.”

“Sure. That makes sense. So… then… Haven’t you ever been in love before?”

“What sort of question is that?” he says.

“I’m trying to get to know you,” you declare, “And I’m curious. You can ask me a question like that, too, if you want.”

“I can answer your question. It’s fine.” Reo pours himself a cup of tea. “Being in love… I haven’t. Not yet. I’ve never been interested in romance. Why, have you?”

“I wouldn’t call it love, but I did date a boy back in middle school. Not because I really liked him, but because he thought I was cute, and I liked him well enough as a friend. Didn’t last too long, though. Your turn for a question,” you add.

Reo takes a sip. “Well, I was wondering… do you have any hobbies?”

“That’s a pretty simple question. But I like scrapbooking and volleyball. I like making memories, and I like sports.”

Reo leans forward, a keen interest in his eyes. “Do you like football, then? I run the school’s football club.”

“I’ve only ever played a little with my older brother. He’s the bigger fan,” you admit. “Do you want to play a game one day? I bet I could demolish you.”

“Hah. As if. I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t regret it later,” you warn, and he laughs. “What do you even like about football?”

“I want to win the world cup,” he says simply. “It’s my dream.” His eyes are reflective, and there’s an edge of seriousness to his tone, an intensity he’s never had before.

You pick up a cucumber sandwich, taking an experimental bite. “When you do, give me an autograph. I can sell it for a million yen.”

“No jokes? I thought you would tell me it’s silly.”

“Well, it sounds like it’s important to you. I’m not going to make fun of something you care about,” you say, amused, shoving the rest of the sandwich into your mouth.

Reo scratches the back of his neck, though there’s a pleased, cat-like smile curling on his face. “Thanks. Do you have a dream?”

“I don’t know if it counts, but I just want to have fun. I want to see new places, and to meet new people, and to experience all sorts of fun things. Isn’t that enough?”

Reo picks up another sandwich, handing it to you, which you demolish in one bite. “I think it is,” he says. “It sounds like you.”

You lick the crumbs off your lips. Reo is a lot more… different, than you thought a corporate heir would be. But it’s nice that it’s easy being with him. Easy, and fun. “I should thank you, actually. This contract is pretty exciting. I’ve never done anything like it before. Thank you, Reo.”

“I don’t know if this is something you should thank me for. But you’re welcome. Thanks for agreeing to go along with me,” he says.

You smile at him, sunshine warm on your shoulders. “So, when’s the first party, boyfriend? I’m pretty excited for it already.”

“Straight to business, huh? Well, it’s in a few days. I’ll text you more details later, and I’ll come pick you up. But hey, before that…” Reo offers you his hand. “Do you want to take a walk? Weather’s nice.”

“Oh! Make sure the car you come in to pick me up is real fancy, okay? My family’s going to be home, and I want to rub it in my brother’s face,” you muse.

“That’s easy. Who do you think I am?”

You don’t hesitate as you slip your hand into his. His grip is soft but strong, and when he pulls you up, for a second, all you can see is Reo, outlined by the glow of the sun.

—

When the sleek black car pulls up to the entrance of your house a few days later, your older siblings are crowded around the window, peeking through the curtains to catch the first glimpse of your date. Your sister whistles, while your brother’s jaw drops.

“What is this?” he says. “What–”

“It’s my date,” you say smugly.

“Your date? Someone wants to go out with you?”

You smack him on the shoulder. “Yeah, unlike you!”

“Does he have money?” your sister asks. “Because good going. Make sure you milk him for what he’s worth.”

“I just– what the hell? No way you got a date before me. And not in that– that car!” your brother complains, rubbing his shoulder, but you’re already skipping out the door.

“Great work, boyfriend,” you say to Reo, blowing him a faux kiss. He’s waiting for you outside the car, already dressed in a navy blue suit.

Reo has an irritating little smirk on his face. “What can I say? My wonderful partner told me to bring a fancy car, and I just had a hard time choosing which one.”

He pulls open the side door for you with an exaggerated flourish, and you slide in. The seats are smooth leather, and the AC is cranked to a cool temperature. There’s more than enough room for a dozen other people, and there’s a mini fridge in the corner that, when you open, is stuffed full of drinks. The windows are tinted, but that doesn’t stop you from rolling it down to wave at your flabbergasted brother before you go, your sister the only one to wave back.

“What do you want me to do at the party?” you say, settling into the supple leather. 

“Just stick by my side,” Reo says. “And try not to offend anyone.”

“Done, and done,” you say, throwing him finger guns.

After half an hour, you and Reo chatting to pass the time, the limo pulls to a smooth stop at the end of a gravel-lined driveway. It’s lucky that Reo is the one who helped to choose and sent an outfit to you prior to the party, because all the other guests lounging in the gardens or spilling out the wide open doors are dressed to the nines. You don’t even want to think about the costs of some of those clothes. The inside of the venue is sparkling so brightly that you almost can’t make out any of the decorations; it’s just gold on top of gold on top of gold, but there is, luckily for you, a buffet table in the corner.

As soon as the two of you step foot through the door, you’re swarmed by a pack of guests with glittery smiles. Reo swiftly takes your elbow, pulling you closer to him, and you discretely loop your arm around his.

“Who is this, Mikage-san?” someone says. An actress, you’re sure. Is she eying you with… envy? Okay, that is weird. Wow. You’re pretty sure she’s been nominated for several different awards.

“They’re my date for the night,” he says smoothly.

“How sweet!” the actress says, and after giving you one more side-eye, turns her attention back to Reo.

The rest of the night goes mostly like that, actually. People are curious about you– watching you with a mix of jealousy, judgment and disdain in their eyes– before marking you off as a non-threat and turning back to Reo. It’s exhausting, frankly. How does he deal with it? You’re no chump when it comes to social situations, but this is on a different level. All the fake smiles, the pointed lines, the constant appraising. It’s like being under an endless spotlight; everyone is waiting for you to slip up, just once, to tear you down.

When you glance at Reo, his eyes are distant again, just like they were at that first party. It’s not the Reo you’ve come to know, the Reo who teased you at the picnic and talked about his dreams.

“Cheer up, boyfriend,” you whisper in his ear, resting your hands on his shoulder to speak solely to him. “I think they’re serving shrimp tonight.”

“Oh, your favorite. This time, you don’t need to hide in a hallway to eat them,” Reo whispers back, the ice in his face cracking to reveal a genuine smile. “Let’s go get some.”

After waving off his admirers, the two of you head to the buffet, where you immediately pick up a plate and begin piling up food. Reo wanders off to grab the two of you some drinks.

“Hah? It’s you. They really just let anyone in,” you hear a sneer when you’re halfway through picking up a little chocolate pastry. You glance up, to see a man with slicked back, bleached hair glowering at you, disturbing your little food paradise. Hm? He looks somewhat familiar.

“Who’re you?” you ask, plopping the first pastry on your plate, and grabbing a second pastry just to be safe. Maybe Reo will want one.

“You really don’t remember?” he hisses.

“Huh?”

“You stepped on my foot at a party!” he whispers furiously. 

“You were being rude,” you say tartly. That’s enough food. You try to step past him, but Takei jostles you with his shoulder, forcing you back in front of him. 

“You were just a server. How the hell did you get in here?”

What the hell? Did Takei think he’s all that, with his self-satisfied smirk and crossed arms?

“I’m on a date, actually,” you say pleasantly. “I was invited here.”

“Hah? Who would be crazy enough to invite you? If you’re lying, then I’m going to get you kicked out of here, just you–”

“Hi, Reo!” you say loudly, cutting Takei off, waving at Reo, who, with perfect timing, has shown up with two sparkling peach-colored drinks in hand.

“Hm? Takei-san, when did you get here?” Reo says.

“Ah– Mikage-san–” Takei’s face pales as he looks from you to Reo, and back to you. “Is… is this person… your date…?”

“Yes,” Reo says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. 

You bat your eyelashes at Takei, who looks like he wants to melt into the floor. For good measure, you turn to Reo with a fake little pout. “Reo, I think Takei-san was just saying something about only someone crazy would invite me here. How funny, don’t you think?”

“Very funny,” Reo says coolly. “But I think it’d be best not to make jokes like that about my date, don’t you think, Takei-san?”

“Right– of course– my apologies, Mikage-san,” Takei stammers. “I, ah, I would never think of… I won’t do it again.”

You pluck one of the pastries off your plate and offer it to Takei, who takes it with a twitching eye. “Enjoy the party, Takei-san,” you say in a syrupy sweet voice, watching as Takei stumbles off.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, you elbow Reo. “Nicely done, boyfriend,” you say.

“Takei has always been like that, but you shouldn’t have to put up with it,” Reo says. “Did he bother you?”

“Not too much!”

“I see.” Reo hands you a drink, but there’s a tiny frown twisting at the corners of his mouth as he watches Takei go.

There’s no more incidents after that, thankfully, but there’s a pensive look on Reo’s face that he can’t quite wipe off. What is he thinking? Should you ask? It’s not until the limo pulls up that Reo finally speaks to you.

“I’m sorry Takei was rude to you,” he says.

“It’s okay! It’s not your fault. Unless… you hired him to get on my nerves?” you tease, gravel crunching underfoot.

Reo looks uncharacteristically chagrined as he helps you into the car. “Why would I do that? Still, I put you in that situation, so… what can I do for you as an apology?”

You pretend to purse your lips in thought, tapping your finger against your chin. It’s cute how seriously he takes everything. “Well, Reo, have you ever heard of a little thing called grocery shopping?”

His eyebrows float upwards. “I’m not that out of touch. I do know what grocery shopping is. Do you think I was raised in an ivory tower?”

You grin. “Oh, we’ll see about that, Reo. Come pick me up on Saturday. 9am. Be sure to dress casually.”

—

Just as promised, Reo shows up outside your house at 9am sharp, dressed in a casual button up rolled up to his elbows and pressed slacks. He’s even smart enough to replace the usual limo with a more middle-class car, though it’s as sleek and polished as if it was bought fresh off the lot… which, now that you’re thinking about it, maybe it was. 

You snort as you size Reo up, flicking a glance up and down. You’re dressed much more casually, in shorts and flip-flops, and the tote bag you always bring to hold your groceries. “Slacks, Reo? Really?”

He holds up his hands in defense, a golden watch gleaming on his wrist. “What? You said dress casual. So I did.”

You roll your eyes, and when Reo opens the car door for you, you shut it. “That’s like business casual at best. You don’t have jeans? Sweats? You look like you’re taking a break from an office job.”

“Hey. I can’t help it if my standards are higher than other people.” Reo puts his hands in his pockets as you stride confidently down the pavement, and he falls into step beside you. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you grocery shopping,” you say expertly.

“... And you don’t want to drive there?”

“Most people do not drive the car to get groceries, rich boy. There’s a little thing called public transportation, you know. You’re going to learn to do it the old-fashioned pedestrian way.”

“Rich boy…” he mutters. “Can’t you just call me by my name? We are technically dating, you know?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Exactly. We’re technically dating, so I’m just giving you an affectionate nickname.”

At this, he laughs ruefully. “Affectionate, huh?”

Maybe you’ve been a little too mean to him. You are fond of Reo, even if he makes it a little too easy to tease him. At the next opportunity, you casually loop your arm around his. Reo falters, but doesn’t break step, before pulling you closer. He smells pleasant, a warm citrusy scent, and he’s careful to match his pace to yours so neither of you pull too far ahead or behind. 

Without turning to him, you say, “I am affectionate, you know. I know how to spoil my boyfriend.”

“Really, now? Looks like I lucked out by asking you out.” There’s a genuine warmth in Reo’s voice that spills a sunset in your chest. It’s almost like he really likes you, and you’re really dating— but the contract. Don’t forget. You can’t let yourself get too carried away. This is a business deal, nothing more. Also, he would be so obnoxious if he knew how much his words affected you, considering all the crap you said about him not being your type. Still, the traitorous glow in your heart doesn’t go away, no matter how much you try to clamp down and extinguish it.

The market is surprisingly crowded when the two of you arrive. You pick up a basket as Reo stands at the entrance, drinking in the rows of cardboard boxes and tin containers and fresh produce, the housewives strolling down the aisles with children in their carts, the scuffed floor and the gleaming lights.

“We don’t have all day,” you tease. “Come on, Reo. Are you scared?”

“I’m not. It’s just… different,” he says. His eyes are still roaming the store, and you loop your arm around his again. Reo lets you pull him along without stumbling a step.

“It’s better to experience it in person,” you affirm, dragging him to the vegetables. “Help me pick some out.”

Reo’s hands hover a row of brown yams, dirt still clinging to their fuzzy roots. He picks one up for you, and you place a hand on his wrist. “What? Is it not good enough?” he asks.

“You need to put them in a plastic bag first,” you say, pointing to a dispenser roll at the end of the aisle. “You can’t just put the vegetables in the basket!”

Reo sighs in a long suffering way, but leaves and returns with a plastic bag, which you shake open and he drops several yams in, after careful consideration of their size and form.

“Good job, Reo,” you cheer. 

“What can I say? I’m a natural,” he says smugly, and you bump him with your hip.

Reo follows you around the grocery store, shadowing your steps like a baby chick. You choose several more vegetables, before moving to the meat aisle and examining the frozen, plastic wrapped cuts. Reo peers over your shoulder as you point at the different cuts of meat, so close that you can feel his warmth despite the chill of the coolers, his breath brushing your cheek every time he talks.

“Which one do you want?” you ask. Normally, you wouldn’t find his closeness a big deal. You’re used to skinship with your friends and family, and Reo is your boyfriend, albeit in name only. But something about his presence makes you feel hyper-aware of his every move. Not that you could ever let him know that.

“What do you think is best?” he muses.

“You can choose,” you say.

“What about that one?” Reo points to a hunk of pork, and you drop it into your basket. 

“Sounds good,” you say, quickly moving away from the frozen meat, but the memory of Reo’s warmth isn’t as easy to shake off.

You skim through the aisles of dry goods, picking up items that you remember were running low in your kitchen pantry. Reo follows, and he pauses in front of a row of glass bottles.

“There are so many different brands of soy sauce,” he says. “The chef usually just gets the highest quality brand.”

“Show-off,” you say. 

“Hey! I’ll send you some, too!”

It’s not until you’re in front of the snacks that you stop, and spread your arms, as if presenting the rarest of delicacies. “All right, Reo. In exchange for your cooperation for today, you can choose one snack.”

“One snack,” he repeats.

“Yup! That’s what my mom used to say when we went grocery shopping. So I’m extending the honor to you. I’ll pay for anything you choose,” you emphasize. “So choose wisely!”

Reo’s hand skims over the row of snack boxes. “Which one would you recommend?”

“The chocolate mushrooms,” you say immediately. “I got them all the time as a kid, and my sister and I used to fight over who got to eat them, since our mom wouldn’t buy more than one box.”

Reo neatly slides out a yellow box with dancing chocolate mushrooms. “Then this is the one I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“My partner recommended them,” he says primly. “Why not?”

It’s only until you’ve paid for everything, stringing plastic bags alongside your arms (Reo valiantly offers to take a few after failing to persuade you to let him pay for the groceries with his card), that you can slide out Reo’s snack and proffer it to him.

“Thank you, my lovely assistant,” you say, “For braving the perils of the grocery store for me.”

“It was fun. I’ll come with you again, if you want.” He rips open the box, then offers it to you.

“What are you doing?”

“Take some.”

“But it’s your reward,” you protest.

Reo snorts, then shakes out a single chocolate mushroom onto his palm, pinching the biscuit stem between his forefinger and thumb, holding it in front of your mouth. “It’s my reward, so I can do whatever I want with it. And I want to give some to you.”

Without hesitation, you open your mouth, and Reo throws the mushroom in. A familiar chocolatey flavor spreads inside your mouth. Somehow, it tastes sweeter than it usually does.

—

Over the next few weeks, you and Reo settle into a comfortable rhythm. He comes to pick you up every evening, though your brother still has a habit of pressing his face to the living room window to ogle Reo’s various cars. Most of the time, your job at parties is just standing by Reo’s side, occasionally intercepting when someone asks him an uncomfortable question and pulling him away. People tend to ignore you, too, treating you as Reo’s tagalong– which, to be fair, you are. Still, any insults are soothed over by the delicious food you pile up high on your plate, though Reo will steal a bite or two if you’re not careful, despite you pestering him to grab his own plate.

Sometimes, you and Reo exchange glances out of the corner of your eye when someone says something particularly weird. It’s startling how fast you’ve learned to read him and pick up on every little change in his expression. He’s emotional and expressive, and though he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, his moods are still easy to read. He’s a little petty, sometimes, and he holds an assured view of his own success. But he’s easy to tease. You like him, a lot more than you want to admit.

However, one particular party in August shatters the routine you and Reo have set.

For one, this party is held in a mansion, a multitiered decadent cake of a building, with famous paintings and expensive statues dripping from every corner. Hell, the guest list is more famous than you’re used to: celebrity actors and prestigious families from old money, and bodyguards hovering at every angle. Even you can feel the oppressive atmosphere, as much as you try to joke it away.

“Be right back,” Reo says, sighing. He flicks his head at an old man trying to catch his gaze. “One of my father’s board associates.”

“Make sure to bring me a plate of food,” you tease.

“Right. Otherwise, you might go so hungry you’ll start nibbling on me.”

You glower at him, and Reo sticks out his tongue at you, before a professional expression rolls down his face, like a shutter slamming closed.

You don’t have much time to spend alone, though. Because just as Reo steps away, a couple draws closer to you, clad with matching crimson jewelry, and with a posture so uptight and rigid you wonder if they would topple to the floor if someone were to bump into them. It’s uncanny timing, as if they were waiting for Reo to leave, but you smile politely.

Neither attempt to smile back at you. The couple’s eyes gleam like the sheen of a shark’s. Ah. They’re looking for trouble. There’s nothing to protect you from their sharp toothed smiles and narrowed gazes. Reo has vanished out of sight, and no one else seems particularly interested in your predicament. 

“So, you’re Mikage-san’s date?” the woman asks politely. “How… quaint.”

“Yes,” the man butts in. “He rarely brings anyone to dinner with him, in all the time we’ve known him, and his parents.”

“My endless charm must have captivated him,” you joke, but the couple only raises their eyebrows.

“Hm. Well, it’s just strange that he would take a liking to… you,” the woman sniffs. “What family are you from?”

“I… My family? Well, I don’t think you would have heard of them.”

“I see,” the man says, with enough disdain that it shreds your bravado to pieces. “I’m not surprised you approached Mikage-san, then. Flies are always attracted to honey, eh? What I’m curious about is how on earth you managed to sink your hooks into him.”

“My hooks?” you say. “Well, no hooks were involved. We just hit it off, and–”

“No need to lie,” the woman intones. “It’s quite unbecoming, though I understand that people of your class can’t help themselves. No manners. No grace. To think Mikage-san would pass up an engagement with our child to chase after… you.”

“Ma’am, I think there must be some kind of mistake,” you begin, but then falter. They were still watching you with keen interest, and your chest tightens. They want you to slip up so they could twist whatever you say and humiliate you, like cats toying with a mouse. 

More than that, whatever you say could be used against Reo. What was their relationship with him? It sounds like they’ve known him for a long time. Were they people he couldn’t risk offending? These people aren’t like Takei, a bumbling man trying to suck up to people wealthier than him. You could snark back, consequences be damned, but what if that hurt Reo somehow?

“What mistake are we making?” the woman prompts. “Do tell me.”

You select your words delicately, like you’re stringing pearls along a necklace. “Mikage Reo is a wonderful person. He’s a partner far better than I deserve, and I know this. And he’s cleverer than you give him credit for. I don’t think he would fall for cheap tricks or flirtations. No matter who I am, or what you think of me, I would like it if you didn’t imply that Mikage Reo is any less than what he is.”

The couple pales suddenly. Did your speech have such an effect on them? But a hand lands on your shoulder, and Reo’s voice echoes from behind you. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I need to discuss something with my date.”

“Of course, Mikage-san,” the man stammers, all of his previous aggression gone. “By all means.”

There’s an uncharacteristically tight set to Reo’s jaw as he guides you to a balcony, arm pressed protectively around your waist. It’s not until there’s a layer of glass doors and gauzy curtains between you two and the rest of the party that he whirls around, eyes turbulent. His arm hasn’t moved an inch from your side.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he grits out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Oh, you know. I love when people are rude to me.”

“Stop joking around,” Reo says softly. “I’m serious, okay? You just– You could have said something! You’re my date. No one would… I could have said something. If you wanted me to.”

You let out a long sigh. Reo’s arm is still wrapped around your waist, and you impatiently shrug it off. Reo stares at the spot where his arm had once rested, as if not being able to touch you is the worst thing in the world. The fact that he’s sad for your sake– for you, his partner, his fake partner– makes you upset in ways you can’t begin to articulate. It was fine before. It was fun before, to mess around, to play in a world that isn’t really yours. Whatever you have isn’t real, so why does he act like it is? You even promised not to fall for each other. He was the one who suggested that clause.

“Are they people I can afford to offend?” you say tartly. “What sort of relationship do you have with them?”

“I would have covered anything you did–” Reo begins, but you shake your head.

“That isn’t the question. Are they people I could offend to afford? Are they people you need a good relationship with?”

Reo turns his head, and you have your answer. 

“I’m not playing the same game as you, Reo,” you say. “This is your world. I’m just a regular person, and I don’t have family or connections or wealth to protect me. All I have is you, and conversely, anything I do can be reflected back on you. If I act out, then they would use me as an excuse to talk badly about you. I didn’t… want that.”

“So it was because of me?” Reo whispers. “ That you had put up with all of that?”

“I didn’t do it just for you,” you say hastily, “So don’t feel bad, okay? I was also looking out for myself, too. Come on, Reo, don’t make that face–” But before you can crack a joke to lighten the atmosphere, Reo pulls you into his arms.

For a few seconds, all you’re aware of is his cologne, some sort of calm, gentle fragrance, and his arms pressed tightly around you, as if he could shelter you from the world by pulling you as close to his body as he could. His hands, resting assuredly on your back. His chin, dipping into the crook of your shoulder. “Wh– What are you trying to pull, Reo?” you squeak, all witty comebacks and jokes fleeing from your head at his touch.

Reo pulls back, just enough so you can see his face, but his hands are still on your shoulders. And– Reo, confident, clever, level-headed Reo– doesn’t look like a self-assured CEO heir or your usual partner in crime. He looks exhausted. Sad. In a way that someone as beautiful as Reo should never look. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. 

“Don’t apologize,” you say gently. You lightly tap his chest with your fist. “Come on. You didn’t do anything wrong. You weren’t the one who insulted me, right?”

“No, I am in the wrong,” Reo says, and before you can move your hand away, Reo cups his hand over your fist, keeping it trapped against his chest. “I thought I could protect you, but that wasn’t what happened. You were the one protecting me.”

“Don’t be so self-deprecating. You’ve helped me a lot,” you scold. “Mikage Reo, we’re partners.”

“Right. Right, partners. We’re partners.” His lips curve into a smile, like the first rays of dawn breaking over the horizon. Reo is so unfairly beautiful, and why does he look especially beautiful when he’s looking at you? 

This is dangerous territory. The world is shifting beneath your feet, and you don’t know if you’ll like where you’ll end up when it stops moving. You open your mouth and hastily add, “Because of the contract, you know? We made a promise.” 

“The contract. Off course. We did make an agreement,” Reo says, but the warmth in his smile has burnt out, and no longer reaches his eyes.

“Right.” You shiver, and without a word, Reo shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it across your shoulders. “Reo, you don’t have to…”

“It’s chilly during the summer,” Reo says simply. “I can’t have my… partner getting a cold. Let’s just call it a night.”

You crumple the silky fabric of his suit. It’s still warm from Reo’s body heat. “But the party–”

“Forget about it. You’ve already done your part. Just get some rest, okay? I’ll send you home.”

Reo ushers you through the party, warding off guests with a perfectly placed “my partner isn’t feeling well” and a pleasant smile– his business smile, nothing like the ones he shows you– and then you’re in Reo’s limousine. The two of you are silent on the way back. The streetlight flashes stripes of golden light across his face, but you still can’t tell what he’s thinking. For your part, outside of these quick glances at Reo, you stare out the window, at the lights of the city smearing across the glass.

When you stop by your house, it’s Reo who runs over to hold open your door and to offer you his hand as you step out. His hand lingers for a second longer than it has to before he pulls away.

“Have a good night,” Reo says.

“You, too. Wait, don’t you need your jacket back?” you ask, as Reo turns to go.

“No. You look nice in it. Just give it back to me next time.”

You open your mouth to make a joke about footing the bill, and how you don’t think you could afford the cleaning fees for his name brand clothing– but something in Reo’s gaze makes you bite your tongue. Instead, you wave. The last glance you have of Reo is of his silhouette, leaning against the car door, carefully watching you enter your house before he gets into his car and drives away.

—

For the next week, you keep staring at your phone, waiting for it to buzz. But there’s nothing but radio silence from Reo.

You’ve never felt more restless. Why hasn’t he called you? What do you do? Should you contact him first? Was he mad at you? He was definitely mad at you. You hurt him somehow, with your big mouth. But what were you to each other, really? Strangers? Not really. Friends, maybe. A couple? Definitely not. Somehow, your relationship has slipped out of the neat boundaries you’ve set at the beginning of the summer. It’s uncontainable, something formless and vague, neat labels sliding neatly off of it. 

This was supposed to be a relationship of convenience, just a summer fling at most. Two strangers, helping each other out. There was a clear expiration date. Did you have any right to push him? To call him? To mend this? 

You just wanted to have fun. Fun wasn’t supposed to come back and bite you in the ass like this. Fun wasn’t supposed to lead to either of you getting hurt. Fun wasn’t supposed to be Reo looking at you like that, like he… cared about you, more than he had to. It was supposed to be easy. Why wasn’t it easy?

He was the one who said that you weren’t his type. To be fair, he wasn’t really your type either. He wasn’t, but… his smile. His teasing words. His hug, tight and desperate, as if he never wanted to let you go. You said you weren’t going to fall for each other. You weren’t supposed to. You aren’t supposed to like him, not in this way. It was even in the stupid contract.

You pace around the living room, thoughts spiraling unendingly in your head, wearing a hole in the carpet as your siblings stare at you, unimpressed. 

“Can you stop? I’m getting dizzy,” your brother complains.

Your sister slaps him on the arm. “Stop it. Their boy toy ghosted them, so now they’re sad. Let them mourn.”

“Eh? How’s that my business? Just call him, dork,” your brother commands. “Or show up at his house with flowers or something. Just stop moping.”

“You are so tactless. What the hell is–”

You skirt out of the living room, your siblings’ voices trailing behind you as they bicker. It’s not as if Reo needs to text you. It’s not a big deal. He could just be busy. It’s not as if you’re really his partner or something. You’re just– some person he hired for the summer. That’s all your relationship is. You can’t get disappointed now, not when you drew the line in the sand first.

You sigh, falling into a crouch, staring morosely at your phone screen– before it lights up with an incoming call, and you press answer so fast there’s no time for the ringtone to go off.

“Reo?” you breathe. 

“Hi.”

“I thought you were dead! Why didn’t you call me? Or text? I mean, I know you’re busy as a corporate heir, but–”

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “Are you free right now?”

“Yes? Why?”

“Can you come outside?”

“Uh, yeah. But why didn’t you just text me if you were coming to visit?”

“I wanted to hear your voice.” A pause. “Just forget I said that, okay? See you soon.”

Your heart pounds as you stare at the disconnected call, before you dash up the stairs to check your appearance in the mirror and maybe change to a cuter outfit. A few seconds later, you’re out the door, shoes still half on, and sprinting right into Reo, his car pulled right up to the curb.

“What’s up? Is there a party you want to talk about?” you say, breathless.

Reo opens his mouth, closes it, and then fumbles for the handle of the car door. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” he says, avoiding your eyes.

“Sure,” you say easily. You can sense more than see your brother and sister pressing nosily against the window. No doubt they’d pester you about what was going on when you got home.

The car ride is tense. Reo doesn’t talk to you, and instead stares outside the window the whole time. Is he steeling himself up for something? He glances at you occasionally, then glances away. You circle the same block twice before you impatiently ask the driver to simply drop you off at a random street. 

The heat is like a heavy blanket over the city, the perfect embodiment of summer. Somehow, you end up in a nice little plaza. There’s a fountain gurgling behind you, and children playing in the shade under the trees. People stream by, and it’s only you and Reo who are frozen in place.

“What is it that you called me for?” you say. 

“What?”

“You have something to say, right?”

Reo looks uneasily out at the sea of people under the blistering sun. “Let’s end our contract,” he says quietly.

You must have misheard. The heat is warping the air in front of your eyes. “Why? There’s still a few weeks left, right?”

“I’m terminating it early.”

“You can’t decide that on your own,” you say indignantly, but your hands are clammy. Your voice comes out reedy and thin, even to your own ears. 

“It was going to end eventually. Ending it a few weeks early is no big deal,” he says curtly.

“Why now, though? Is it because of what happened at the last party?” you break in. “That’s no big deal. I can handle people like that.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he snaps.

“Huh?”

Reo runs a hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t have to put up with people like that.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do,” he says. “I don’t like– I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“But–!”

“And you’re just doing this for fun, right? It’s not like you have to go with me. If it stops being fun… if it starts making more trouble for you than what it’s worth… you should just leave. It’s like you said,” he says. “This is a contractual relationship.”

What can you say? You and Reo are just… what, exactly? Strangers in a business relationship? Friends, who only came together out of a twisted coincidence? He wasn’t your real boyfriend. You were just acting in a play, and at some point, the curtains had to fall.

“I won’t bother you with something like this again. Just… consider our agreement over, okay? You don’t have to pretend to be my partner anymore.”

He turns, and overwhelming desperation seizes you. If you let him go now, something will change forever, and you’ll never see him again. You’re certain of it. Reo is doing this out of consideration for you. It’s a kindness on his part, but you hate it. You hate it so much you can barely breathe. 

“Wait!” He stops. All you can see is his back. What can you say? What sort of joke, or clever remark? What easy thing can repair your relationship? Nothing comes to mind. There’s nothing left, nothing but the truth.  “I… I like being with you, Reo. I know I said I want to do whatever is fun, but… the most fun I’ve ever had is by your side. So don’t just… don’t just say it’s over. Was it not fun for you?”

You take a step closer towards him. He doesn’t back away. Another step. All you can hear is the gurgling of the fountain now, and all you can see is Reo. Reo, as beautiful as the sun.

His ears are red. Reo finally turns towards you, averting his gaze from yours, his hand covering his mouth.  “Of course I like being with you. I just can’t be your fake boyfriend. I can’t do that anymore. I’ve already broken the contract. I… About you, I…”

Call it fate, or a coincidence. But at that moment, a passerby bumps into you, causing you to stumble. You yelp, your knees hitting the edge of the fountain, and Reo, alarmed, tries to grab you– you only manage to grasp his arm before you tumble over. Reo goes down with you. A wave of water splashes over the fountain as you flail, you and Reo fumbling for purchase. The two of you end up more soaked with every attempt to straighten yourselves, and it’s all just so ridiculous. 

Laughter bubbles up out of you, and you can’t stop, even though everyone is staring at the two of you. You’re drenched, water streaming down your face, dripping from your clothes. Maybe this is what your hoodie feels like when you run it through the washing machine.

Reo lies beneath you in a pool of fountain water, your arms on either side of his torso. You’re sheltered in the circle of his open legs. His hair is plastered to his face, his expensive cotton shirt clinging to his body, and you carefully tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, but it’s all in vain.

“I can’t believe this,” you snicker. “Imagine the headlines. Mikage heir, found diving in a Tokyo fountain!”

“Oh, shut it,” he mutters, but you only laugh harder.

Suddenly, his hand cups your face, a tentative gesture. His thumb is so close to your lips. If he moves an inch, he’d brush them. Your laugh quiets. “What’s wrong, Reo?” you say, but your heart is pounding like a flock of birds lifting up in flight.

“You’re beautiful,” he says simply, as if it’s the only truth in the world. “Tell me if you don’t want this.” He’s face to face with you now, and you’re acutely aware of the way his gaze lingers on your lips. “Tell me if you don’t want me. Push me away right now.”

Oh, to hell with it. You lean forward and crash your lips onto his, urgently gripping his face with both your hands. It’s a terrible first kiss. There’s the taste of rusty water, and he’s slack at first, awkward, as you try to move against his lips. But then Reo circles his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, and now he’s kissing you back. He breaks apart only to connect again, desperate as if this is his one and only chance. Like stars colliding, all you can think of is this. Of him. Of the summer heat, lingering even when you part.

“Reo. I like you,” you say, simply. “I want to date you. For real, this time. No contracts, or anything. Even though I’m not your type, apparently.”

He rests his forehead against yours. “Forget about my type, or the contract. I don’t care anymore. I like you, too. I’ve liked you for a while now.”

“If you liked me, then why did you ignore me for a week?” you say indignantly.

“I was… I was nervous, okay? I mean, you shouldn’t have said our relationship was just a contract! I thought you didn’t like me!”

“Sorry, sorry. Both of us messed up, huh?” you ask. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

“Yeah, I can think of a few ways,” Reo mumbles.

He leans forward to kiss you again, and– “Hey! What are you kids doing in that fountain?! That’s public property!” A policeman yells.

Oh, shit. You totally forgot you were still in public, in the middle of a fountain. But there’s no time to think. Reo grabs your hand, and the two of you scramble up, splashing water everywhere as you jump out of the fountain and run down the streets. Everyone is staring at you, but who cares? Summer is almost over, and you deserve to have some fun with your boyfriend.

#liya writes #blue lock #mikage reo #reo mikage #blue lock x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #blue lock reo #bllk #x reader #bllk x reader #3rd entry for my bllk seasonal shoujo fic!! #longest one ive ever posted. reo im going to kill u for making me write so much

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Tiny ideas 2

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1. Danny, in his new and very human black and white vigilante outfit runs past Penguin who had gotten soaked when a car full of hooligans wearing clown masks ran threw a puddle and splashed him.

Danny, not knowing who this was, tapped him on the shoulder as he ran past, running his intangibility through the man and letting the water fall off him, leaving him nice and dry again.

Penguin makes note to pay both back in very different ways.

----

2. Phantom, having been exorcisized from Amity Park and essentially banished and unable to return, roams around the multiverse looking for something to do.

Upon coming across the creepiest doll hes ever seen in a trash bin, he decides to mess with some local bat themed vigilantes and possesses the doll.

His first victim is Red Robin. Danny in all his creepy doll glory toddles out from behind a chimney as his target is running across the rooftop in his direction. Birdy stopped dead (heh) and stared at the doll.

Danny picked good. The doll was porcelain and cracked, missing one of its glass eyes and moss growing out of the empty socket and around various parts of its body. Its dress was once a lovely blue or green velvet but was now patchy and worn.

He turned the dolls head around at an unnatural angle to fix its gaze on the vigilante, its frozen polite smile adding to its eerieness, and in a moment of impulse said, "I'll see you soon." In the most creepiest little girl voice he could manage, using his ghost powers to make the words seem to drift upon the air towards the hero.

And just like that, doll Danny was gone.

RR almost frantically contacted oracle, "Did you see that?!"

"RR your signal cut out for a few minutes, backup should arrive soon. What happened?"

-----

3. Jason has been getting followed around by this wierd kid who is prime Brucie adoption bait. Kid kept jumping out of nowhere without anyone being able to sense him to ask him the weirdest questions (Damian was so startled that he nearly stabbed the kid on reflex. Not that he'd ever admit it).

The questions where things like, "Do you like books? What are your favorites? Can you cook? Do you like red heads? Do you like dogs? How opposed are you to having supervillian in-laws? What if they give you free experimental weaponry? ....how about some laser cannons and a jet?

Jason ends up getting kidnapped by this kid and dumped in from of this pretty girl as the kid tells her, "I went out and got you a boyfriend who won't try to murder you. Don't screw this up!" Before the kid ran out of the room.

Jazz was mortified.

Jason is still on the floor where he was deposited earlier, "So..." he begins, "I heard you like Jane Austin?"

-----

4. Phantom faked his death in front of the people of Amity Park, just to see how they would react to his passing and kind of in hopes of something changing. He couldn't keep sacrificing everything for these people, after all.

He did not like how the people reacted. Danny had to move away cause if he heard one more person say it was a good thing "that monster" died hes going to hurt someone.

Gotham seemed lovely this time of year and its one place that neither his parents or Vlad would visit. Vlad because if he tried anything at all the worlds greatest detective would ruin him and his parents because they once tried to hunt Batman and Robin only for Batman to terrify them to the point of never returning after they hurt his bird.

Danny got hired at Wayne Tech after submitting a wide range of devices but couldn't do much thanks to still being a minor. Thankfully Mr. Wayne was very generous and kept him housed and fed while he finished his online schooling and graduated early.

(Heavy angst for Danny.)

---

5. Danny hadn't seen Cujo in a while, which wasn't too unusual, but it have been a long time since hed seen his puppy and he was overdue a visit.

Danny pulled out his dog whistle, one normally used for emergencies and that Cujo would never ever ignore.

Only...Cujo didn't come. Now Danny goes on a journey to track down his missing dog. Following clues and trails across different realities, dimensions and universes to find his lost dog.

He did not expect to meet a bird themed vigilante along the way, not for them to insist he help him on his quest. Robin seemed very wary of the Infinite Realms the first time he entered them and had tons of questions. But bird boy was great company and Cujo would love him so Danny could deal.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny fenton #batman #tim drake #red robin #yum #body horror #tw: body horror #dolls

[itgetsdark-x]

dbf!joel with a reader that has an attitude like maddy perez though… i mean he shouldn’t be turned on by that but GOD she acts and talks like she owns the shit, prance around in mini dresses and skirts, and perhaps she always does this thing with her mouth that just makes him want to bend her over and fuck the bratty attitude outta her

A/N: when I tell you this had me swooning, sheesh. The thought of Joel just getting so angry until he snaps and fucks you so roughly?! Damn. I got a lil carried away; I hope it’s okay for you, anon! 💜

Summary: You’re a good-looking woman and you know it, you know you could have any man you wants and you never wanted to work hard for it. Joel Miller was different.

Warnings: 18+, minors dni! Unprotected p in v (be better than them!), degrading, slight praise kink, oral (m receiving), age gap, some slapping and rough sex. It’s kinda just filth lol.

Characters: dbf!Joel Miller x bratty!reader (f)

Word Count: 4.9k (yes, I got carried away)

You knew you were attractive, it wasn’t cocky or ignorant but you knew it; ever since you started showing an interest in boys when you were a teen it was easy to get guys’ and never once had you struggled to have a boyfriend. 

You were in your mid-twenties now and that attitude had followed you; what you wanted, you got. Simple. Only now, it wasn’t that simple because you couldn’t get the one thing you wanted, or rather, who you wanted. 

Joel Miller was a family friend, you hadn’t overly paid much attention to him when you were younger, partly because you knew he wouldn’t be interested in a kid but also because you were distracted by boys your own age, you had constantly been parading a stream of jock’s and idiots around your dad, and therefore Joel. Your father and him worked together and played together, they spent most evenings in front of the TV watching sports and drinking beers. 

It was only now, it felt like an issue. Joel was a permanent fixture around your house and god, it fucked you off that you couldn’t seem to get him. 

———

It was a Friday evening, like normal, your father and Joel were in the kitchen talking about work and sports, drinking their beers. 

“Hi daddy.” You grinned innocently, kissing your dad’s cheek as you entered the kitchen. 

“Hey princess.” Your dad smiled back before giving you a small hug. 

Joel’s eyes tracked you when you entered the space, his eyes raked over you as you got on your tiptoes to hug your dad back and he couldn’t help the way he drank in your shapely legs; your mini skirt leaving very little the the imagination. 

“Hi Mr Miller.” You purred, batting your eyelashes at him blatantly. 

“Hi.” Joel replied gruffly. 

“What?” You asked, popping your hip to the side with attitude. “No hug for me?” You pouted, your glossy lips looking so kissable… so fuckable. 

Joel mentally cursed himself at the thought. You drove him insane with your short dresses and tight outfits and your constant pouting; he wanted to wrap his hand into your hair and bury his cock so deeply into your mouth and throat you would have tears staining your cheeks. 

“Joel.” You huffed, snapping your delicate fingers in his face. “I said. Do I not get a hug?” You rolled your eyes, Joel’s blood boiled at your attitude but he smiled through gritted teeth at you. 

“Oh of course, always a hug for my best girl.” He said, forcing himself to be charming. 

You giggled and bounded over to his, your breasts wobbling in the tight material of your white crop top. You wrapped your arms around him, around his neck and you brought your body tightly to his. He was so rough, so rugged and big and it made your core throb as you thought how it would feel to be fucked by him. 

Your dad was so oblivious to the way you acted around his friend, he was wrapped so tightly around your little finger that he rarely paid any attention to the way you reacted or dressed. He only cared if you were happy and cared for, whether that be with food, money or clothes. In his eyes, you could do no wrong and you were his world. 

“Daddy, I’m hungry.” You huffed, leaning over the kitchen counter to face him, Joel stood to your side. 

He was grateful you were no longer hugging him, he could feel every curve of your body and he was sure if you held on any longer you would have felt the hard curve of his cock in his jeans. His hand gently gripped the edge of the counter when he glanced down at you, he saw the material of your g-string thong showing so blatantly above the waistband of your skirt. If he was stood behind you, he would have seen the full view of your plump ass showing for anyone to take. 

“Funnily enough, Joel and I were discussing ordering a pizza in. Does that work for you, baby?” Your dad asked, turning to grab two more beers out of the fridge. 

“Ugh. No. Gross.” You whined, folding your arms over your chest in protest. “I want Thai food!”

Joel’s jaw clenched as you spoke, your demeanour and attitude begged to be attended to, begged to be sorted out and he knew how he could sort it. He would fuck you so hard and fast until you were drunk on his cock and so compliant for him. 

“I’m happy with whatever, Thai work okay for you, Miller?” Your dad said. 

“Uh,” Joel started and you turned to look at him, pouting once again with your bottom lip jutted out. There it was again, that face, it drove him insane every-time you did it. “Fine. Works fine!”

———

You finished up your food, you had all moved into the living room and you were sat crossed legged on the sofa, Joel was across from you and you could feel his eyes boring into you as you ate. You slurped up your noddles, being sure to exaggerate your lips even more as Joel watched you. 

“I’m going out in a bit, by the way. Can I have some money?” You asked sweetly to your dad. 

“Where are you going?” Asked your father casually, finishing up his own food. 

“Oh just out with the girls, Kara broke up with her boyfriend so we are gonna go out, get a little wild and see if we can find her a rebound.” You giggled. “Who knows; might find me another boy since things didn’t work out with Jacob.”

“Oh god, please don’t tell me details sweetheart, I don’t need to know what you plan on getting up to. Just as long as you’re safe and take protection with you.” Your dad laughed softly. “How much money do you want?”

“$150?” You asked. 

“Princess, I gave you $80 yesterday for some new clothes. How about $100?”

You whined, rolling your eyes. “You’re the worst but fine. Whatever. I’m going to get ready.” You huffed and stomped out of the room. 

Joel’s hands were clenched on the arm of the chair, you were such a brat and your father never seemed to care, never seemed to discipline you. He hated to admit it but your attitude just made you more attractive and it made his cock ache in his pants. 

He hadn’t paid much attention to you when you were a teen, he had no reason to as you were his friend’s kid but when you came back after dropping out of college and living off your dad, he noticed you more. You were still you; confident, bratty and sometimes rude but now you were a woman, you had curves and your attitude only drove him madder for you. Not that he wanted to cross that line, he wanted to remain stronger than that. 

The thought of you going out, with your friends no doubt dressed in something skimpy and revealing made Joel want to march up into your room, push your face into your mattress roughly and fuck the attitude right out of you. And the thought of you going home with some boy? Well that almost blinded him with pure rage. 

———

Your night out was uneventful; your friends and you had plenty of drinks and you had a good time but you didn’t find anyone to go home with, didn’t find anyone to take the edge off with. 

You yawned and stretched, rubbing your eyes gently to remove the final remnants of sleep from them. You checked your phone for a while, scrolling through the instagram posts your friends had put up from the night before and you smiled at them. Soon, your stomach rumbled and you decided it was finally time to venture out of your bed for food. 

You pulled on a pair of hot pant shorts, the material gripped your figure and barely covered the fullness of your ass and you paired it with a cami top, it was skin-tight and cropped just above your belly button. You walked down the stairs and wandered into your kitchen, you were greeted by Joel stood leant up against your kitchen counter, sipping coffee. 

He was wearing a tight t-shirt, the fabric hugged his arms perfectly and fitted slimly over his dad bod, he paired it with his usual pair of jeans. 

“Hi Mr Miller, what’re you doing here?” You said, your voice smooth. 

“Oh. Hi.” He mumbled, barely looking at you as you spoke. “Your dad,”

“Daddy.” You corrected with a raised brow. 

“Fine. Whatever. Your daddy and I had plans to go out to the lake today but he had to pop off to the work site we have been on all week, some sort of emergency that they needed the boss for.” He shrugged and his nonchalance drove you mad. “He said I should just hang out here until he got back, he said it shouldn’t take anymore than an hour or two but the site’s the other side of town so who knows.”

“Oh well. I’m hungry. You gonna make me breakfast or buy me something?” You asked, sauntering round so Joel was forced to look at you. 

It had been months of this now, constant teasing on your behalf, wearing next to nothing anytime the male was nearby, lingering touches to his hand or arm, you constantly eye-fucking him whenever he caught your gaze. You loved it, you knew it drove Joel mad and just as much as you wanted the male to make a move, part of the fun was teasing him so badly. 

Joel had spent more nights than he cared to admit, fisting his cock until he came apart in his hand to thoughts of you on your knees or you bent over so he could fuck every ounce of attitude out of you. 

“Joel.” You pouted, huffing loudly when he wasn’t paying any attention to you. You clapped in his face, abruptly pulling him from his filthy thoughts once again. 

He looked at you, there was that face again. His hands clenched into tight fists at his side and he rolled his eyes at you. 

“You want to learn some manners, young lady.” Joel said gruffly. 

“Yeah?” You asked, your eyebrow cocked up in question as your hand rested on your hip. “And who’s gonna teach me some manners? You?” You laughed. “Now. Breakfast. Hurry up and order something, yeah? I’m hungry. I’m gonna go shower whilst we wait.” You spoke softly but the rudely, your bratty tone oozed from each word. 

You turned on your heels to walk away after rolling your eyes at the older male once again. Before you were even able to reach the doorway of the kitchen you felt rough hands into your hair and you yelped loudly as you were tugged backwards. 

“What the fuck?!” You screamed, your loud voice boomed into the empty kitchen. 

Before you could push Joel off, he had you pinned up against the wall, one hand was still entangled in your locks and his other hand was holding your hip against the cool wood of your kitchen cabinets. 

“Get the fuck off of me.” You spat, trying to push Joel off of you. “Wait until daddy hears about this, you asshole. You’re hurting me!”

Joel barked out a laugh, it was sadistic and there was a sick smirk plastered over his features. 

“Now now, don’t act like this isn’t making your needy little cunt throb.” Joel whispered. “Think it’s about time to teach you some proper manners, since you can’t seem to find any.”

“I —“ you started but Joel pressed his lips roughly to yours, his fingers tightened their grip in your hair and manoeuvred your head to exactly the right angle he wanted. 

Your mouth opened willingly as Joel’s lips moved against yours, his tongue delved into your mouth and hungrily attacked every inch he could reach within your mouth. He could taste vanilla from your chapstick, he could smell your perfume wafting through his senses and it made his cock stiffen impossibly in his pants. 

“You’re going to get to your knees and you’re going to be a good little girl and suck my cock. Understood? Otherwise I’m sure your daddy would love to hear how you tried to seduce his best friend, wouldn’t want that to happen now, would you?” Joel smirked, tugging your hair roughly until you were sinking to your knees obediently. 

You looked up at him, through your lashes; you were the perfect sight, your plush lips were pouting again and Joel couldn’t wait until his cock was punishing your throat. Your head was swimming, you could still feel Joel’s fingers in your hair and you couldn’t deny the way your core throbbed with excitement. 

Joel’s free hand toyed with the buckle of his belt to undo the leather before he freed his member from his jeans and boxers, you gulped roughly as you stared at Joel’s cock in front of your face;  he was large, bigger than any other guy before him and he was impossibly thick. You knew taking him in was going to be a struggle but there was no denying that you couldn’t wait to try. 

You leant forward and let your tongue kitten lick at the tip of his cock, a familiar salty tang hit your tastebuds and it made your mouth water; you wanted more. You opened your mouth, your tongue out flat and you pushed your head forward until you were enveloping his member into the hot, wet embrace of your mouth. 

Joel peered down at you, he could see down the front of your cami as you leant forward, your hands laid obediently in your lap; he could see the soft peaks of your breasts and noticed the way your nipples had hardened under his gaze. Your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to sink your mouth down fully onto Joel’s cock but before you could reach the base, he hit the back of your throat which caused you to gag. 

Joel laughed sadistically again, his fingers pressed into your skull as your locks entangled further around his fingers and as soon as he felt the resistance, he pushed your head down harder until his cock nudged into your throat deeper. You breathed through your nose, and your eyes screwed shut as you tried not to gag again. 

“So pathetic,” Joel barked, pulling his hips back to snap forward again until you gagged once more. “Can’t even take my cock properly. Thought you were a big girl, huh?”

You fluttered your eyes open to look up at Joel, your mouth stretched around his cock as he fucked into your mouth roughly.

“Can’t back-chat now, can you, little girl?” Joel smirked, his spare hand coming up to caress your cheek softly. 

You couldn’t help but lean into the tender touch, your head lulled to the side ever-so and Joel smirked as he removed his hand just to bring it down with a harsh slap. You whimpered around his length and Joel slapped you again, your cheek stung but you focused on the feeling of Joel filling your mouth. 

He roughly held your cheek and used your head as leverage to roughly fuck into your mouth. Spit spilled from your swollen lips, it dribbled down your chin and you could tell that you were a mess. Tears pricked your eyes as you continuously gagged as his cock bruised your throat. You couldn’t wait until you could still feel him later, to be reminded of this moment. 

Joel groaned roughly as he watched you, for once you weren’t able to pout, you weren’t able to back chat him or give him attitude. You were being just what he wanted; willing to give and so obedient. 

“Good girl, taking me better now, aren’t you?” Joel cooed. “What would you do if your daddy came in and saw you like this? Crying around my cock, spit running down your chin. Dirty girl.”

You whimpered pathetically, your chest was heaving with each word and you couldn’t help but feel the panic rise in you, you were in plain sight of the front door. If your father came in now, you would be a dead woman walking. Joel abruptly pulled his length from your mouth, it made an obscene popping noise and your mouth fell agape softly, you felt so empty as soon as Joel left you. 

You absently wiped at your chin with the back of your hand and Joel pulled your hair until you were on your feet once again. Laboured breaths left your swollen lips and you stared blankly at Joel, all attitude seemingly had been fucked out of your mouth and your brain was filled with thoughts of Joel and nothing else. 

“Upstairs. Undress now. Get upstairs and lay on your bed face down, with your needy cunt ready for me.” Joel grunted, releasing your hair from his grip. 

Your fingers massaged at your scalp softly where Joel’s grip had been, your skin aches deliciously. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself, now be a good girl and go.” He spoke gruffly, his fingers dug into the small of your back and nudged your forward. 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, you hadn’t seen Joel like this before and part of you wanted to laugh at this tough bravado he was putting on. 

Joel noticed it, of course he did and he quickly slammed your body into the wall; it knocked the air out of your lungs and you gasped in shock. 

“W-what?!” You stammered out. “I was just doing as you told, I was about to go upstairs. Isn’t that what you wanted?” You asked innocently, a small smirk spreading over your lips. You couldn’t help yourself. 

“Guess I haven’t fucked the attitude out of you enough yet.” 

You shrugged under the weight of Joel’s arm holding you against the wall, a shit-eating smirk only growing as you saw the frustration bubble in his features. 

“Guess not. Gonna have to try harder than that, old man.” You grinned. 

Joel’s hand clenched at his side, you could see his skin turning white with the effort of it and it only made you grin further. You let out a small laugh. 

The older male’s face was straight, his features were cold like a stone statue but you could feel and see his anger in his eyes. He took his arm that was pinning you down and instead wrapped his hand around your throat, his fingers squeezed you pulse points gently and you moaned. 

“Knew you would like that. See, I was going to give you the pleasure of a soft bed but now I’m thinking I should bend you right over the kitchen table.” Joel said with a raised brow and you nodded weakly. 

He took his free hand and dipped it into the waistband of your pants; without warning his fingers slipped between your slick folds. He looked into your eyes, his gaze locked on yours as his fingers toyed with your swollen clit. He cocked a brow in question as your slick juices coated his fingers. 

“So fuckin’ wet for me, little girl. You like being treated like a dumb little slut, huh?” 

You nodded dumbly, your voice didn’t seem to function correctly and it’s all you could muster up. Joel’s fingers gripped tighter at your throat, the sensation made your head dizzy and all you could do was whimper weakly at the male. 

“Answer me.” Joel growled, his hand releasing your throat to slap at your cheek once again. 

“Y-yes, yes I do!” You spluttered out. 

“Right answer.” Joel hissed as his fingers circled around your clit. 

As much as he loved teasing you, he couldn’t wait any longer and he needed to hear how you sounded as you came around his fingers. You moaned, his fingers sped up and he roughly plunged two fingers into your greedy heat. Your eyes fell shut as Joel pumped his digits quickly, with the angle of his wrist, the heel of his palm nudged against your sensitive clit with each thrust of his fingers. You gripped weakly at his arms as he fucked into your hole with his fingers, his other hand squeezed your neck again and he smirked when you moaned louder. 

“Come on, little girl, you can do better than that. Tell me how good my fingers feel? Huh? You wanna be a brat? Tell me how good I’m making you feel.” 

“Joel,” you gasped, your fingers scratching at his skin in vein. “Feels s-so good. Can’t take it much more. You feel so good, I just need your cock filling up my hole. Please. Fuck.” You rambled, you weren’t even sure if your sentences were coherent. 

“Patience. I want you to cum on my fingers. Now be a good little slut and do it for me. Hm? You wanna be all big and bratty, now cum on my fingers.” He growled lowly, his lips ghosted over your own and you pouted when he retreated as you tried to kiss him. “Stop pouting.”

Joel’s voice was gruff, it sent shivers down your spine and he pulled his fingers out to slap at the sensitive skin of your vagina. You whined and just as quickly as he pulled them out, he pressed his fingers back into you and deeper this time, they nudged at your g-spot which caused your legs to buckle underneath you. Joel laughed, he shook his head and held your hip roughly, pinning you back in place. 

His fingers sped up, with each thrust the tip of his fingers rubbed over your g-spot and his palm rubbed over your clit; you were seeing stars and you knew your orgasm was about to crash over you. You clenched around Joel’s fingers and he knew the telltale signs, he kept his movements consistent and your fingers gripped roughly at Joel’s arms, searching for leverage to keep yourself upright. 

“C’mon darlin’, is this all you’ve got? C’mon cum for me, be a good girl.” Joel whispered. “That’s it. Atta girl. Such a good girl.” Joel praised when he felt your walls flutter around his fingers. 

You came apart almost instantly when Joel spoke to you, your legs were shaking as they fought to keep you standing as Joel’s fingers fucked you through your orgasm. Tears spilled from the corner of your eyes as you slowly came down from your intense orgasm. 

Joel kissed your temple, it was a tender moment in the midst of his dominant act and it made your heart flutter rapidly. 

“Bend over the kitchen table. I need to bury my cock into your pretty little cunt before your daddy gets home. Need you thinking about my cock for days after.”

Joel removed his fingers from your pants and before you could move, he pressed his slicked fingers to your mouth. 

“Open.” He stated and with that, you opened your mouth and sucked in his digits.

He groaned as your tongue swirled around his thick fingers and you moaned as you tasted yourself on him. It was by far one of the filthiest things you had done, if anyone else tried it you would have slapped them and walked out but it was Joel, he was so perfect and you couldn’t say no. 

“Table.” Joel said, shrugging towards the kitchen table. 

You nodded, walking shakily over to the table. You shimmed your hot pants over your ass and bent over for Joel to take you as he pleased. He hadn’t bothered to pack away his hard, leaking cock and as he walked over to you, he stroked himself a few times just to stave off the throbbing. You watched on in awe, your head resting in your arms as Joel’s hand worked his cock. 

“Please.” You whimpered, rubbing your thighs together in need. 

“Beg for it. Beg for my cock and I’ll fill you up so good, I promise.” Joel groaned, standing behind you now. He kicked apart your feet and slapped his heavy cock against your wet pussy. 

“Please Joel, I need it so bad. I want it so bad. Please. I don’t beg, usually. I’m a mess here, never wanted anything so bad. I need you.” You all but sobbed, your watery eyes peering behind you, searching for the older male.  

Joel let out a breathy chuckle, he pressed his hot cock-head to your hole and without a second thought, he thrust forward roughly. It felt like he was splitting you open and you relished in the stinging sensation of your walls stretching around him. He captured one of your hips in his large palm and he pulled out of you before thrusting back into you with fervour. His other hand weaved its way into your soft locks again, pressing your head roughly into the table. Part of you registered a dull pain but all you could focus on was the feeling of Joel’s cock filling you up. 

You moaned pathetically under him, your hands pawed at the smooth wood of your kitchen table and you whimpered as you searched for something to grip. 

“Such a good little cocksleeve for me, hm?” Joel groaned. 

You nodded weakly under Joel’s hand, as the table bit into the skin of your hips; you knew there were going to be bruises later but for now, Joel’s cock worked into you continuously and it made you dizzy. 

“I said,” Joel grunted, his hips slapping against your ass. “You’re such a good cocksleeve. It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it?” Joel asked. 

“Y-yes. It’s all I’m good for!” You w confirmed shakily. 

“Good girl, good little slut for me; your dad’s best friend, a man who is almost double your age. What a naughty little brat. Hopefully this’ll teach you some goddamned manners going forward.” Joel spoke, it felt as if with each word, he thrusted into you twice as hard. 

You were a mess under Joel, a mess of moans and begs tumbling from your lips carelessly; his cock was making you dumber with each thrust. You couldn’t even muster a coherent sentence even if you tried, let alone a bratty response. You had finally got the person you wanted the most and it was even better than you could have imagined. 

“Gonna, gonna,” you whimpered as Joel’s cock nudged deep into your walls. 

“Mhm, course you are. Pathetic. Little. Slut.” Joel cursed, his hips landing bruising contact against your ass. 

It was such a stark contrast to how Joel carried himself in his day-to-day life, he was usually pleasant and so charming. Not dominant and with a filthy mouth at all. It drove you insane though, his words mixed with his abusing pace of his cock, it had you tumbling into your orgasm abruptly. 

Your cheeks were stained with tears, you were completely at Joel’s will and you were willing to do anything the male asked for. Never before had you cum from just a guy fucking you, and never this intensely. Your stomach felt tight as your walls gripped and milked Joel; his hips stuttered as you came, your grip on his cock was enough for him to spill his hot seed into your greedy hole. Joel’s large hands pawed at your ass, his gripped the flesh roughly as he fucked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, his body shuddered and he slipped out of you when he finished. 

You made a small noise as your body stayed in place bent over the table, you could feel Joel’s hot cum dripping down your inner thigh and it made you moan softly. 

“You still wanna act like a brat?” Joel asked, his soft hand stroking at your lower back. 

You shook your head no with a lazy, complacent smile on your lips. 

“Good girl, don’t you forget who’s in charge here. Act like a brat again and I’ll have to punish you again.” Joel whispered as he leant down to kiss your cheek softly. “Now go clean up, you’re a mess and your daddy will be home soon. I’ll order something for breakfast, too.” He smirked, packing himself away into his jeans again. 

You let out a breathy laugh as you pushed your body off the table, you winced as your back adjusted to being stood again and you grabbed your hot pants off the floor before leaving to go shower. 

“I want pancakes!” You demanded from the stairs. 

“‘I wants’ don’t get, darlin’. Try again.” Joel retorted. 

“Fine. Please can I get some pancakes?” You huffed softly, rolling your eyes again; you were just grateful that the male couldn’t see you this. 

“Looks like my cock worked, then. Good job.” He cooed. 

Your legs shook as they carried you upstairs, you finally got who you wanted and you knew it would only be a matter of time until you had him again. 

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#dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader #anon request #thanks anon <3 #bratty!reader #bratty!reader x joel miller

[goingmerryfics]

Hello!! I recently found your blog and I love it!! ❤️

I was wondering if I could request something!

Kid, Mihawk and Law with a partner who’s into gothic clothing. uwu

Gothic style S/O w/ Kid, Mihawk & Law

Content: Gender Neutral reader, SFW!

Notes* Glad to have you! Thanks for the request :) Out of anyone, I think these three would be the most accepting/understanding of someone with this style and even indulge in it a bit themselves so I tried to make this a little more personal to each character. That being said, I feel like they turned out a little shorter than normal, but I hope you still enjoy it!

Kid

He wouldn’t even bat an eye if this was a regular thing to be dressed in gothic style. It’s pretty common around the crew, and even if it wasn’t, Kid appreciates the aesthetic of the style

He also just doesn’t give a shit what you wear as long as you can do your job

Looking good while doing it is also a plus

For that reason, he would help you out with your makeup for sure. Not that he has much experience with it in the first place, but he just likes any excuse to look at your lips

On the other hand, if your weren’t introduced to him in black and chains, he wouldn’t recognize you if you just up and changed your wardrobe

You walk out of your room in your new style, the one you’ve been wanting to try for years and never had the bravery to out of fear of judgement

But after joining the Kid Pirates, it didn’t feel so scary to go outside of the world’s expectations

“Who the fuck are you!? How’d you get on my ship!?”

After managing to convince him not to just throw you overboard, he does the unthinkable

“Oh. You look good. Better than that boring shit you used to wear.”

He compliments you

Kid will pick at your outfits and give unsolicited advice on how to coordinate or style your clothing

He isn’t one for making jewelry, but he might try if you can’t find anything that would match your clothes

Mihawk

No comment from him. You’d have to outright ask him what he thought, and even then it would be a short answer

“Yes, it’s a good look on you.”

He isn’t actually looking at you when he answers, but it’s genuine

You’d find him staring at you quite often, though

He enjoys the style on you, especially since his style is very close/similar to gothic

He respects your backbone for sticking to what makes you happy, and he’ll encourage you to stick up for yourself if anyone has anything to say about your look

Honestly, he’s seen people look and dress a lot worse, so he doesn’t see why anyone should be making unnecessary comments

Despite being a man of few words, he would still compliment your outfits every time

He, having a eye for the fashion, would also help you coordinate and mix up your clothing items and accessories to freshen up the looks

“That won’t do. We need to get you some earrings that will match this.”

It’s such a sweet way to spend the time that you two have together

Law

Law gets whiplash at first

His emo phase is coming back to him all at once and he’s cringing internally

But despite his own emotional setbacks, he is happy if you feel comfortable dressing this way

He’s very level-headed, so there’s not going to be a very big reaction out of him right away

His perception of you hasn’t changed, and it won’t anytime soon

“Express yourself however you like, just make sure you don’t alter the uniform too much.”

He’ll warn you that the crew might ask some dumbass questions or make rude comments

He also will ask you some questions, very carefully, not wanting to sound ignorant

He would come to your aid if you needed support, especially within his own crew

If you’re the type to wear a lot of make-up, he’ll be on your ass about cleaning your face every night 

He’d even help you do a skin care routine to make sure you were taking care of yourself!

If you bother him enough, he’ll start to do it with you, too

Gets you stuff that remind him of you, things he believes may align with your style

All in all, he’s pretty indifferent to the style, and may even be open to dipping back into it a little bit

He looks great in eyeliner, but damn it he keeps smudging it

#one piece #harleywritesop #hwop #eustass kid #harleyasks #eustass x reader #eustasscaptainkid #one piece eustass #eustass captain kidd #kid x reader #kid one piece #one piece kid #op mihawk #mihawk x reader #mihawk one piece #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihaw #law x reader #op law #law one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece

[ohbabydollie]

omg the schlatt x masc fem s/o headcanons make me go absolutely insane ckksjfksjdkskskksk please please please do more

LMAO i’m glad u liked them

everyone asks you what to get him for his birthday since you know him best and ted took you on a mini shopping spree which you were excited for!!

as soon as you guys were walking through the mall you stopped at a victoria secret, looking at all the lacy panties and bras before picking up a thong

“i think he would like this, it’s not his size though” you say before asking a worker for their biggest size

a bunch of stupid shirts with saying like “i ❤️ getting pegged” “must be on estrogen from the way my rack keeps growing” etc.

the biggest monster dildo you can find at spencer’s with a tube of flavored lube

of course while you got him a few stupid gag gifts you got him shirts and things he would genuinely enjoy

getting mad at him and saying you’ll shove things up his ass and nicknames getting more insulting

“fisting your ass tonight, no prep” “i’ll stick my foot up your ass, bitch” “shut up, that’s why your hole is fucking gaping” “move broad”

schlatt laughs at it sometimes, kissing you on the forehead as you call him a broad and wrapping an arm around your waist

when he asks for your food you feed it to him, airplane and all

if he’s struggling to open a bottle or something and getting frustrated you’ll calmly grab it and open it before handing it to him with a wink and kiss

yk how he was pretending to eat pussy in that one chuckle sandwich vid? you pretend to part open and eat his ass

when you two walk off together you kick his ass and/or the back of his knees because you think it’s funny

yk those videos that are like “when the 5’2 homie finally agrees to cross dressing (he’s definitely getting it tonight)”

yeah you send those to jay all the time and tell him that the height is slowly going up so you’re just waiting until it’s 6’2

along with other memes like that

if anyone tries to defeminize you he’s on their ass IMMEDIATELY!!

“she might as well be your boyfriend with tits and in a dress” some girl says laughing slightly “well she’s my girlfriend with tits and more femininity than you could ever dream of” schlatt says crossing his arms “not ran through either”

doesn’t like it when men flirt with you but finds it funny once you get tired of them talking about fucking you and get started talking about fingering their asshole and they grimace in disgust before he appears

“hey sweetheart” he says wrapping his arm around your shoulders “thanks for keepin’ her fingers warm for me champ” he says to the guy jokingly as you giggle

posting him with songs like eating by CP hollywood & suki

“fuck is this?” he asks showing you your latest instagram story “an appreciation post for you” you say innocently smiling

Silly costumes for bits or for halloween parties!!

schlatt dressed as jessica rabbit n u as roger rabbit!! you as a prim and proper doctor n schlatt as a sexy nurse, complete with the fishnets and fake syringe

u get the silly costumes n he gets the sexy slutty ones

your behavior gets so normalized schlatt doesn’t even bat an eyelash at it anymore

“pegging session tonight?” you ask him, grinning as he rolls his eyes “only if you’re in leather”

groping at his man boobs, ass and thighs

“goo goo ga ga, i want milk” you say groping at his chest as schlatt pushes your face away, annoyed

if he’s ever walking in front of of you, checking out his ass and whistling at him

nsfw!!

drunkenly going up to schlatt at a costume party and saying “you look so pretty in your costume princess, imma eat you out when we get home” before schlatt pulls you into his lap and telling you “we’ll 69 it” as he undoes your tie and you go red in the face

making out with him at a party, parting with your face flushed and a string of saliva connecting the both of you

the first thing you say, looking up at him with hazy eyes, “no homo” schlatt looks at you confused before yelling “ITS NOT FUCKING GAY”

likes watching you walk around in flowy dresses and skirts knowing the second you both are alone he’s gonna be lifting them up and having you sobbing for him

he loves taking you into a bathroom, lifting your skirt snd fucking you into oblivion

“where’s the big strong girl huh? the one that said she was gonna peg me, huh?” he asks with your knees over his forearms (full nelson) and making you look in the mirror, completely weak to his touches and unable to escape

“look at my girl when she’s all cute and submissive” he says grinning and forcing you to look into the mirror

“where’s that bratty mouth you had earlier, hm?” he asks while he has you bent over on a counter as he goes in and out of your cunt, making you tighten up on his length

is mean to you in bed but there are times where he’s soft with you, calling himself lucky for having you, calling you his pretty wife, etc.

aftercare is top tier, will clean you up and get you food or drinks, whatever you want

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #jschlatt x reader smut #schlatt x reader smut

[its-vannah]

Vigilante Sh*t | Jacaerys x Reader

A/N: Y'all, this is a bad b*tch fic. Prepare yourselves.

Warnings: Death of a major character, attempted murder, divorce, arranged marriage, marriage, mentions of consummating a marriage, pregnancy

Midnights Masterlist

For as long as you can remember, Lucerys Velaryon had been one of your closest friends. As children, the two of you were much too timid to meddle with politics. You preferred to stay out of the limelight.

That was until you had recieved the news of his death. When a messenger had told you what had happened, you felt your knees give out beneath you.

Don't get sad, get even

Steadying yourself against a nearby wall, you tried to calm your nerves. He wasn't meant to die. Not now, not this young. And you were ready for revenge—even if it meant taking it out on your own husband.

-------------------------------

When it has been announced that you were betrothed to Aemond Targaryen, your family had been thrilled. Finally, one of their children would marry into nobility.

But you were severely disappointed.

From what you had seen, Aemond was a menacing, cruel man who did anything he could to elevate his status. You had heard rumors that, if he could, he'd kill his own brother to become King.

Even Lucerys feared for your safety entering a marriage with him, reminding you that your friendship would be put on hold. But trying to convince your parents to end the betrothal was impossible. It was too late.

Still, Lucerys had persisted.

"Couldn't you be wed to Jace?" He suggested, "He's still nobility. Your parents would be happy, woukdnt they? Please, Y/N, just try."

You raised a brow, "You want me to marry your brother?"

Someone sweet and kind and fun

He shrugged, "I think it'd be quite a nice match, actually."

"It's too late, Luc, I already tried. They'll have my head if I go against their wishes."

With a frown, he admitted defeat, "I just don't want to lose you. You're the closest friend I have. You're like a sister, really."

Pulling him into a hug, you pressed a kiss to his temple, "That will never change, Luc. I promise."

Until you found out that he had died, and your husband had been the one who killed him.

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Nothing made your blood boil more. He would regret his decision one way or another.

-------------------------------

Your handmaiden pulled a velvet black dress over your head, lacing it in the back until it was perfectly draped over your body.

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

It was a bold move, on your part. To wear Targaryen black in a sea of Hightower green. But it was a move you were willing to take.

Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man

Tucking a dagger in your bodice, you were ready for revenge.

They say looks can kill and I might try

Making your way to the dining hall, you remained stoic even in your grief. You were going to get your way.

Entering the hall, you moved to sit beside Aemond. Normally, he didn't even bat an eye your way. But when he saw his mother's cold hard stare your direction, his shot you a warning glance.

Taking a seat, he grabbed you by the wrist, practically hissing at you.

"You're upsetting the Queen," He said in a low whisper, "Out of all the gowns you have, you chose one so bold?"

I don't dress for women

You played dumb, "Bold? This is one of my favorites. Didn't you know?"

"Remove it."

I don't dress for men

"Right here? I hardly think its appropriate," You replied, the corners of your mouth going up, "No, I think I'll leave it on."

Tightening his grip on your wrist, he grit his teeth, "Now."

And I don't dress for villains

"My life doesn't revolve around you, Aemond," You hissed, "I'll wear what I wish."

"Don't make me ask you again."

The lady simply had enough

"Don't make me say no, then." You said, eyes narrowing.

And crossing all of mine

Pulling you up from your chair by the wrist, the whole table turned to look at the two of you.

While he was doing lines

Aemond forced a smile on his face, "Excuse us, Lady Y/N has some matters she'd like to discuss."

It was so silent that you could only hear the clicking of Aemond's boots against the stone floor.

I'm on my vigilante shh again

Shoving you into your chambers, you fell back onto the floor, catching yourself with your hands. Reaching into your bodice, you pulled out your dagger, lunging towards him with the weapon held high.

He spun you back, kicking your ankle out, and pinned half of your body to the bed, the dagger now held firmly to your throat.

Through bated breaths, tears pricked your eyes, "You took the life of the one person who meant the world to me."

Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie

"It was an accident."

Grunting, you shook your head, careful to avoid the edge of the knife, "Doesn't change the fact that you didn't, and that he's dead."

He was silent, so you continued, "Let me free. Annul our marriage and I will go without a word."

"A word of what?"

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some

You inhaled, "The bastard you fathered with my handmaiden. I'm sure your mother would be delighted to hear of it."

"How did you figure it out?"

Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI

"It wasn't that hard," You said, "Isn't she pregnant again?"

He loosened his grip, "I let you go, and you go without a word?"

"Not a sound," You promised, "And you're secret—and image—will remain intact."

He groaned, pushing himself off of you, "You're a vile woman, you know that?"

"And you're a sick, twisted man."

The marriage was annulled the next morning, and Aemond explained that your marriage had never been consummated. To tell the truth, he had been too drunk to remember if that had been accurate.

Although he was initially denied the request by Allicent, he reminded his mother that, out of all the women in the seventh, he could find another with more power to her name to carry his children. He didn't want the Targaryen name to be soiled by his wife.

After his mother nodded to Aegon, it didn't take long for the marriage to be annulled. By that point, you were already on your way to Driftmark.

You had left with a small trunk of your belongings, opting to leave anything with a hint of your past life with Aemond behind. No green dresses or hair pins, no Hightower crests.

Knowing your family would refuse to allow you back into their home, you went to the only place that ever really felt like home.

Walking into the keep, you were suddenly overcome with grief. You were in the gardens, where you snd Lucerys had chased each other as children.

The memories, however sweet they once were, now felt painful. You tried to push them away, unable to come to terms with your grief.

Kneeling in front of a stone bench, you traced the spot where your initials had been engraved. He had always felt like a brother to you, and now he was gone.

You heard someone clear their throat behind you, and immediately jumped, the hood of your cloak slipping off your head and onto your shoulders.

Turning around, your eyes met Jace Velaryon's. Surprise settled into your body as he looked down on you.

And she looks so pretty

"Y/N?" He asked, convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Jumping up from your spot beside the bench, you wrapped him in a tight embrace, arms thrown around his shoulders.

Your feet dangled off the ground as he returned the embrace, burying his head in your shoulder while supporting your weight.

"I'm sorry, Jace," Your voice was just above a whisper, "I know how much he meant to you."

He just held you tighter in response, setting you back down a moment later, filled with questions.

"How—Why—When—" Jace furrowed his brows, unsure of the reason of your arrival, "Is he here?"

You shook your head, "No, I traveled alone. It'll all make sense soon, I promise. But I need to speak with your mother."

He nodded, "I'll see if I can arrange something later in the day. She's busy at the moment. Please, come inside, it's far too cold to be out here."

-------------------------------

That evening, you spoke with Rhanerya, explaining the events that had brought you to Driftmark. Touched by the love you had for her son, she pulled you into a hug, commending your bravery and sacrifice.

She welcomed you to stay with open arms, and instructed her eldest son to help you get settled.

That's when something in you switched. During the next few months at Driftmark, you and Jace became closer and closer, eventually sharing a kiss in the gardens on the very bench he had found you.

It wasn't even a month later that the two of you were wed in a large ceremony, with the people of Driftmark in attendance.

For the first time since you had been shipped off to marry Aemond, and since Luc had died, you were genuinely happy.

After the wedding, Jace took you back to your shared chambers, kissing you softly, "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. I'll be waiting when you're ready."

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

But nothing could keep you away from your husband. Pulling him down on the bed, you consummated your marriage that night. On that same night, unbeknownst to you, you conceived your first child.

The next time you saw your ex-husband, he was in chains in the middle of Driftmark, at the mercy of Queen Rhaenyra. And you were standing beside Jace, his hand on your swollen stomach as she decided his face.

You couldn't help but smile. Luc may not have been with you, but you couldn't have been happier alongside your husband, as the new princess, waiting for the arrival of your first child.

I don't start it, but I can tell you how it ends

Gazing up at Jace, he caught your eyes, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

#fanfiction #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon #hotd #jacerys velaryon #jace velaryon #jacerys targaryen #jacerys x reader #jace velaryon x reader #jace valaryon x reader #jace strong #jacerys #jacerys valeryon x reader #jacerys strong #jacaerys velaryon #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys imagine #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys headcanon #jacaerys strong #midnights #vigilante shit #hotd fic #hotd jacaerys #hotd x reader

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Bar Daddy

I take immense pride in my bar. In just two years I've founded the classiest tavern in town, but I still like to bartend now and then. I can charm any patron with prompt service, good company, and the finest drinks.

I usually aim to give everyone a high-class experience, but I don't even bother trying to charm the man currently walking in.

He comes around every so often and completely disrupts the sophisticated atmosphere, dressing like a prostitute and loudly commenting on the gentlemen in the room. Needless to say, that gay idiot keeps coming back to drive away my paying customers, and each time I become a more and more short-tempered.

I feel my patience already wearing thin as he creeps over to me. "I told you not to come back here!" I growl under my breath.

"But this is the gayest bar in town," he whines back in return.

"This is the finest bar in town, so get out!"

Just before I explode in anger, this man begins batting his eyes. The gaze beneath those fluttering eyelids is intense. I feel the scowl on my face loosen as my arms fall limp. My whole posture seems to sag, and I can feel his mesmerizing power over me.

"You need to loosen up, mister," I hear him say, "You think this isn't a gay bar? Just look at yourself!"

My head obediently turns and glances in the mirror as he continues to whisper in my ear.

"You're happy to have gay men in here! This bar was founded on your own values, right? Masculinity, homosexuality, and promiscuity."

I suddenly realized he is right.

"Wow, I'm happy you're here, bud," I smile, already hoping I can give him the time of his life in my gay bar.

"Glad to be here, daddy, but don't tell me you've forgotten how you greet all your customers!"

I panic! I have no idea how he thinks I should greet my customers. Normally, I put on a charming smile and ask them what they'd like to drink, but I can already tell that isn't a good enough strategy for this new guy.

"A kiss, big-bear!" he laughs, "A sloppy, aggressive, wet kiss. You need to show your patrons who's in charge here or they'll get out of line."

That makes so much sense. I rush around the bar and grab the twink by the waist, forcing him close enough to plant a long smooch over his mouth. I'm overjoyed to see that my embrace has left him flustered and rock hard.

"What can I get you to drink, son?" I ask.

My voice feels lower. I don't remember being a baritone, and my body feels so much heavier. Maybe I've gained some weight, but it could just be the uniform I have on. Wearing nothing but an apron might just make me look thicker than I am. At least I'm lucky enough to be covered in body hair or else I'd be freezing in here!

"A round of shots for the room, daddy!" he screams gleefully, planting a wicked slap on my bare ass.

The sting on my cheeks makes me angry at first, but after glancing into his eyes I realize I overreacted. I always like it when a customer smacks my ass anyway. Honestly, that and them randomly groping me is the only thing that turns me on anymore.

"Coming right up, boy."

"Good bar daddy," he praises.

I don't know when it happened, but the entire place is redecorated. Gone is the wood panelling and tasteful art, replaced by neon lights and a loud music. All my regular customers have seemed to embrace it, twerking half naked on the dance floor.

A crowd of more gays bursts into the bar, wildly running up to order their drinks. It's the most business I've ever had!

The rest of the night is going to be a whirlwind! A dozen wandering hands immediately find my body among the crowd, tickling my sensitive areas, groping my big muscles, and fondling the package beneath my apron. These boys certainly feel close to their daddy!

The only way I can get them to calm down is by grabbing their shoulders to force my tongue down their throat in a sloppy kiss. I barely have the time to keep up with tending the bar.

I don't mind it though. The constant stimulation is intoxicating, fueling my passion to make my boys happy. Every single one of these men are going to leave my bar happy, drunk, and satisfied! I am their Bar Daddy after all.

#gay hypnosis #mind control #hypno story #male transformation #gay mind control #gay transformation #gay tf