#This was a nice little comic relief moment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

macfrog · 11 months

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checkmate cowboy like me chapter nine

hi sorry it’s late please don’t hate me 🥲 would just like to note- reader's pasta is gluten free, alright? i have had too many gluten-induced traumas to write about it anymore. she is a gluten free queen. thanks parts 1-8 on my masterlist here, n my ao3 here. love u all the most!!!

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel steals you away during a family meal to give you a telling off...in the form of a quickie

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) pining reader, bratty reader, brat tamer joel, spanking, oral (m receiving), face fucking, dom!joel, orgasm denial, theft of underwear, loose mention of someone cheating, alcohol, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, marty robbins

word count: 8.1k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Know you can take it, baby, you’ve done it before. That’s my girl.” You whimper in response, mouth full of his cock. “Keep makin’ those pretty noises, whole hotel’s gonna be wonderin’ what’s goin’ on up here.” He allows you a second to pull off of him, gasping for air when your mouth’s free again. “Want ‘em to hear,” you choke out, lips slipping back down his cock.

The water dances to-and-fro, kissing the lip of the pool and splashing onto the concrete at your feet. It’s windier than normal today, trees whispering overhead, breeze taking your hair and lightly tossing it around.

You’re sat out back on a lounger, waiting for Joel to come pick you up. Joel and Sarah, that is. Picking you and your dad up. Be nice if it were just Joel, wouldn’t it? You and him, alone together again. Out on a date, or even just following him around, side by side in his truck as he goes about his day. His hand on your thigh, pretending to roll his eyes at your music choice.

As if that would ever happen. As if that could ever happen.

He and your dad have organized some dinner to celebrate yours and Sarah’s return home; some hotel resort with a restaurant looking out over the river. Your dad couldn’t remember the name of it. Said it was all Joel doing the booking.

You can still fucking hear him. Your dad. His voice lulls through the open kitchen window, the wind carrying it to your ears almost comically. You wish you could bat it away. He’s had the same Marty Robbins song stuck in his head all morning. You’d finally reached breaking point when he’d graduated from just humming it to full-volume singing, even doing his own impression of the guitar.

And now it seems that sneaking out to the backyard hadn’t rid you of the damn song either, no matter how loud the trees may be rustling.

Joel said he’d be here by now – he’s late. You slink off to the back gate to slip out front and wait for him there. And maybe also to escape your dad’s voice. No offense to the guy.

A couple minutes to six, his truck pulls up by the curb you’re perched on. Sarah climbs over the front seat to the back, and you join her.

She scoffs when you slam the door shut. “You’re eager.”

You shake your head in response, warning her with a roll of your eyes not to ask. She gives you an understanding nod and your eyes turn to Joel.

“You’re late.”

He looks back at you in the rearview mirror. “Not my fault. Traffic. We left twenty minutes ago, didn’t we?”

Sarah’s lip curls. She shrugs a little. You know he’s telling the truth.

When you turn back, Joel’s eyes are still on you, expression a little softer. A greeting. Making up for the fact he can’t wrap his arms around you, pinch your nose affectionately, kiss you to say hello. You smile back at him.

“That watch a’ yours runnin’ slow, Miller?”

Your dad’s voice is like a fucking foghorn. Sarah covers her mouth to stop a laugh from escaping her lips. He sweeps down the driveway toward the truck and you lean back in your seat. Quiet moment ruined.

Joel lightly chuckles and then gives you one last hazardous glance in the mirror before pulling off, ignoring your dad’s teasing. Probably for your benefit.

The relief of a quiet journey doesn’t last long, though. Barely five minutes in, your dad picks up the humming again.

“Dude,” you groan, “will you quit that? For the love of God.”

“It’s stuck in my damn head,” he chuckles, arms crossing defensively.

You roll your eyes again. “So your plan is to plague us all with it, too?”

“Pretty much.”

“What’s he singin’?” Sarah asks, leaning forward.

“Marty Robbins. Old song.” The lack of tone in Joel’s voice and the quick shake of his head as he says it tells you he ain’t the biggest Marty Robbins fan either. A voice inside you thanks God, like it even matters what music he’s into.

“Never heard of ‘im.”

“Lucky you,” you breathe, and your dad holds up a finger over his shoulder.

“Heard that,” he says.

“’s why I said it.”

Joel’s shoulders jerk with a laugh. “You’re in a real mood today, aren’t you?”

Your head falls against the window, bumping along with the road as Joel drives.

“Hold up a second,” your dad rounds on him, “you ain’t showin’ your kid real music, are you? She doesn’t even know Marty Robbins.”

“I ain’t puttin’ her through the pain of knowin’ him.”

A smile forms across your lips. Just another thing you two agree on. Another little string connecting you both, separating you from the rest.

You almost snort at yourself. Counting strings.

Sarah interrupts your train of thought when she requests the radio be put on. Joel turns the dial up and she sits back, victorious. You stifle a laugh. But even Taylor Swift doesn’t fully drown out your dad’s voice – she sure doesn’t stop the way he bobs his head as he sings to himself. It’s helpful, all the same.

You and Joel have been quite literally counting down the hours until you’re alone together. Alone for a whole weekend. Each morning, you’ll text him to announce it’s one less day. And he’ll reply some witty comment, some crude joke, or else a thumbs up emoji which usually meant he was working, or had company and couldn’t text. Company meaning eagle-eyed Sarah.

It’s been almost a whole week since the last time you had uninterrupted, unsupervised time with him. When you could link your arms around him, feel his head lean down on top of yours, say things without threat of anyone else hearing.

Seeing him there in the front seat, inches away from you, and not being able to touch him or even talk much to him, feels like a form of torture. Makes you curse your dad ‘n his tone-deaf singing all the more.

You’re supposed to be meeting Sam and Anna and a couple others from work at Frank’s, Saturday night, 8PM sharp. Rodeo night. Your dad’s leaving for Fort Worth in the late afternoon, he said. You’d kinda sulked when he told you, realizing that left a tiny window of time you could see Joel that day.

And then he told you he’d text Joel to ask if he’d be around to pick you up from Frank’s if you needed him, and you chirped up.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be really good. Can you ask him to?”

“He said just to text you if you need ‘im, hon.”

“Cool, I will. I mean, I will if I need him. Thanks, Dad.”

If you need him. If. Just on the off-chance, right?

The thought draws a smile across your face. You reckon his presence will be very, very needed this weekend.

Soon enough, the truck pulls in to some ornamented, fountain-guarded resort, bursting with greenery and flowers, paved in pristine sandstone. A red canopy over the entrance, golden letters spelling out Hillcrest.

“Damn…” Sarah leans over into your space to get a glimpse of the building from your window. “This is so fancy.”

“You treatin’ us or somethin’, son?” your dad asks Joel.

He doesn’t reply. But his eyes flit up to meet yours, then back to the road ahead. In a one-second look, you understand.

Sarah’s still staring outside, mouth wide open, blinking eyes taking everything in. “Dad, what the f…”

“Language,” Joel clips.

You smirk. It’s funny, hearing the man who’s whispered far worse things – filthy things – to you in earshot of company, chastise his nineteen-year-old for cursing.

The four of you roll by the water feature – three robed women made of stone pouring water from vases into a pool at their feet – and park up. As you hop out, a woman in a silk dress struts by, floppy sunhat bouncing with each step she takes.

Joel meets you at the back of the truck, letting Sarah and your dad stroll off ahead. They’re busy pointing at different features of the lavish hotel – the purple-uniformed bellboys running in and out of the lobby, the glimmering revolving door, the guests eating on balconies overhead.

“You outta that mood yet?” he asks, and you snap out of your daze.

“Not in a mood,” you reply bluntly, eyes still ahead.

“Huh.” He nods, unconvinced. “Marty Robbins gettin’ to ya that much, is he?”

“Marty Robbins ain’t the problem.”

“No? What is it, then?”

His hand finds the small of your back. It straightens you up like a shot of fire through your spine.

“Not a what. A who.”

You lead him inside.

A man in a pressed white shirt greets you all at the entrance to the restaurant.

“Reservation for Miller,” Joel says, and the man nods curtly and darts off into the sea of tables.

Sarah skips off with your dad on her arm, the two of them fucking ecstatic to be somewhere so fancy and fun. You and Joel amble through, past wine coolers, dodging fleeing waiters, slipping between white-cloth tables and silver spoon diners. His hand never leaves the skin between your shoulder blades, red hot on your goosebumped skin.

You’re seated at a table by the window, overlooking the river. Joel sits opposite you, your dad by his side. Sarah nudges your elbow and holds her phone up, snapping a selfie of you both with the glimmering water in the background. She tags the location and adds text below: fine dining. Her thumbs search for emojis, picking two champagne glasses, some sparkles, and a pink heart. Then she swaps the heart for a smiley face, and tilts the phone to you, wordlessly asking for your approval.

“Cute,” you tell her, and she beams, hittingpost.

The server returns, hands out menus, leaves a jug of ice water and some fancy bottle of wine you’ve never heard of by the table, and then nods his head once again before he rushes off. Your dad salutes him as he goes. You cringe.

“Boy’s gonna take a damn heart attack,” Joel mutters, watching your dad lift the wine from its bucket.

Sarah’s watching, too. She looks from the bottle of wine over to Joel, eyebrows raised. He flatly tells her, “No.”

“Come on,” she protests, “it’s not like anybody here knows what age I am.”

“We know.”

“Dad, I–”

“Water, or nothin’.”

Her eyes dagger into his. “You ain’t exactly a stickler for the rules yourself,” she breathes, sliding the jug across the table, and you scoff.

You’ve seen her do worse on her Instagram stories, and the way she glares at you warns you not to open your mouth. If Joel’s this pressed about some wine with a meal, it’s a damn good thing he doesn’t have a social media account.

“Let’s toast,” your dad announces as he pours wine into three of the glasses, “to…to you girls bein’ back home…” He raises his wine and Sarah lifts her little water, lemon slice floating on top. “…and to a fun summer ahead. Hm?”

You and Joel both hesitate a little before lifting your drinks, clinking them softly against each other with a glint in your eyes.

A fun summer. Sure. You’re certainly having fun. Yeah.

You watch Joel as you take a sip, frowning at the bitter taste. His mouth twists just like yours, neck winces as he swallows. Then he promptly slides his glass along the table back to your dad, clearing his throat and wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“No?” you ask, amused.

“Not my thing.”

You tilt your head. “Maybe they have Bud at the bar.”

“You’re hilarious, you know that?”

You flash a proud grin at him. The denim of his jeans brushes against your ankles. Your dad takes Sarah up in conversation. No one would see if you just…

Under the long white tablecloth, you nudge open his calves and slot your feet between them. Joel’s boots close at the back of your legs, holding you to him. Holding you against him.

It feels…nice. It’s almost normal. Like something a real couple would do. Not a pair of hopeful idiots wrapped up too tight in some clandestine affair. You almost feel like you could reach for his hand, and you’re willing to bet that if it weren’t for your company, he’d let you take it. Let you part his fingers with yours. Let you run a light touch over his knuckles.

When you finally look up at Joel, he’s looking right back. Watching you. Reading your mind.

You avert your gaze, reaching to pour a glass of water.

A few quiet minutes pass while the table studies the menu. You’re still looking around, taking in your surroundings. The more you look, the more you notice. Velvet drapes framing tall Palladian windows. A man nervously checking his blazer pocket while his girlfriend’s at the bathroom. Joel’s legs give yours a wiggle and you’re drawn away from the pocket square and slicked-back hair.

He smiles affectionately. Asks in his eyes if you’re okay. Your shoulders meet your jaw with the inhale you take, and then you nod. Imperceptible. Some dumb smile across your lips that mirrors his. Like you really are on your own or something. It’s stupid.

“Reckon I’ll have the steak,” your dad says.

Joel hums in agreement, nodding.

Sarah orders a Caesar salad and you decide on the fettuccine Alfredo. The nodding waiter snaps his little black book shut and collects your menus, before disappearing again. Conversation flows across the table naturally: your dad’s big client, Joel’s working week, Sarah’s sophomore year. Of course, the Rangers are mentioned once or twice.

Your wrist is shaking your glass, watching as the water swirls around inside. The thought turns over much the same in your head. A question for Joel. When your food arrives and the chatter lulls, you brave up enough to ask it.

“You think I’m…brighter…here?”

He smiles, a little confused. “Brighter?”

“Aw, kiddo.” Your dad shakes his head, knife tearing into his steak. “I knew you’d take that to heart.”

Joel’s still looking at you. Concerned.

Sarah elbows you. “What’s that mean?”

Your dad sighs. “Bill told ‘er on Sunday she used to be miserable whenever she came home. Said that this time ‘round she looks…”

“…brighter.” You lift your hands to form air quotes around the word, pasta wrapped around the fork between your fingers.

Joel’s expression relaxes, his smile grows. “’cause of anything in particular, or…?”

You instantly regret bringing it up. He’s a dick. Has to ruin every sweet moment with a smug smirk and testosterone-induced impulses, doesn’t he?

You mock smile back and shake your head.

“Y’know what I think it is?” your dad says, and Joel finally turns to him. He nods at you and Sarah. “The pair of ‘em. Back home like old times. How long has it been since the four of us were out doin’ stuff together?”

You and Sarah exchange a sideways glance.

“I’m serious!” he says, waving his hands. Cutlery almost flying out of his grip. “It’s nice. Joel, back me up.”

Joel’s sat back in his chair, midway through cutting his steak, watching this show unfold. He clears his throat and offers, “Yeah. Real nice.”

Your dad looks defeated. He retires from the conversation, focusing on the meal in front of him.

“What are you guys gonna do all weekend without us?” Sarah asks, shoving a forkful of salad in her mouth.

“I, uh…keep forgetting y’all are goin’ away,” you lie, staring down at your pasta.

Joel clears his throat again. “This guy at work was showin’ me these videos of folks playin’ chess – did you know there are these…leagues, for chess? Professional leagues ‘n competitions. They win money, good money, for playin’ chess.”

Sarah, like everybody at the table, is quiet for a few seconds. “Is…is this your way of sayin’ y’all are gonna…play chess?”

You’re staring at Joel, amused and yet a tad embarrassed. The dude you’re sleeping with just went on a ramble about chess.

You twirl your fork in your hand before taking another bite. “I’ve never played chess. Maybe you’ll have to play it alone.”

Joel narrows his eyes. “Don’t think you can,” he says, gritting his teeth, “it’s a two-player game.”

“Nah,” Sarah chimes in. “A guy in my Physiology class plays against himself to practice. He’s pretty good, I think.”

Your head nods toward her, eyebrows raised at Joel. He’s grimacing back.

“He always goes on about speed, says it’s all about playin’ fast so your opponent ain’t got time to think. Quick hands, he says.”

Your brows arch, lips petted. Poor Joel. “Aw. Looks like you’ll be playin’ with yourself.”

His brows angle and you notice a twisted smile on his lips. Pissed – sort of aroused, but pissed. You lift your legs from between his. He holds onto your ankles with his own for a second, forcing you to stare at him, before he frees you. You tuck your legs under your chair.

Just then, Sarah’s phone vibrates on the wooden table.

“Oh, shoot, two seconds. Hello?” She screws her face up. “Are you kidding me? No way. No, I don’t– You– Kels, can I call you back in, like, an hour or something? I’ll call you back, I’m just at dinner with my dad and my…No, I’ll literally be, like– Alright. Lemme call you back. Okay.”

She hangs up and swivels in her seat to you.

“You know Kels? Kelly Ramirez?”

You draw a blank. Push your bottom lip out. “Should I know a Kelly Ramirez?”

“She played soccer with me in high school? Remember, that game you came to,” Sarah leans in, knocking your arm with the back of her hand as if giving your memory a swift kick, “she played in goal to fill in for Stephanie, and broke her ankle tryna save Amber Murphy’s shot? Passed out from the pain?”

Nothing. You shake your head.

She huffs. “Coach Lee had to drive her to the emergency room and it’s all she went on about for weeks.”

“Oh!” The penny drops. “That was her? Didn’t she carve his initials into the girls’ room stalls?”

Your dad and Joel exchange a bewildered and, quite frankly, weary glance. Sarah shuts her eyes and nods, ashamed.

“That’s her.”

“Wow. I wonder if he knew how bad her crush was…” you muse, choking back a laugh when Sarah gives you a dead-eyed stare.

“He would have,” Joel says flatly, and you both shoot him a look. “Girls ain’t good at hidin’ that sorta stuff.”

“Oh, like you’ve ever had anyone have a crush on you.” Sarah bats her hand at him and then her fingers lock around your wrist. “Anyway…”

You can see Joel’s grin from your peripheral. He gives your sneaker a tap with his boot under the table, and you feel your cheeks start to heat. You move your leg.

“…she’s just caught her boyfriend cheatin’.”

“Who has?”

Sarah huffs. “Kelly Ramirez! For cryin’ out loud, are– are you even listenin’ to me?”

“I was caught up in the Coach Lee stuff. Right. No, I’m with you now. Is she okay?”

“She suspected it for weeks. He kept cancelling plans last minute, kept coming up with dumb excuses. We were all tryna tell her, just ask ‘im. Ask him or find out for yourself. So, she did. Checked his phone and found all these messages between him ‘n some girl from college.”

“How’d she hack into his phone?” your dad asks.

Joel, head now resting against his fingers, draws him a look: Really?

“She didn’t,” Sarah tells him. “She knows his passcode. Used it to get in, I guess.”

Your dad nods, taking note, eyes narrowing. He looks over to Joel, then you. These kids and their technology, you imagine him thinking. But he’s staring a fraction too long. You shift in your seat. Give him a comical shrug – Don’t ask me – and he eventually looks away.

The rest of dinner passes smoothly – Sarah picking up her phone, rattling a message into it with her thumbs, and then dropping it back down onto the table. Your dad, battling his steak, asking Joel what he thinks of the Rangers’ chances against the Astros tonight, and Joel…well, Joel not taking his attention off of you for one second.

He’s answering your dad, saying all the right things at the right times, but anytime his eyes lift off of his plate, they land on you. Your arm, draped on the tablecloth. Your hand, moving pasta around your dish with your fork. Your eyes, flitting between the view outside to that inside.

You can see him the entire time. Watching you. You’re not fucking blind. If Sarah didn’t have Kelly Ramirez spamming her phone with cheating boyfriend updates, she’d probably be commenting on it. Did she grow a second head, or somethin’? she’d quip.

But you never look back. Not once. Just let him observe you, let him wait for a glance or a kick of the foot that never comes.

You’re leant back in your chair, arms crossed over your chest, when the waiter clears your table. Watching some couple wander off down the riverside path. She’s wearing a white sundress that dances around her calves with each slow step she takes. He’s in a plain black tee, tan arm around her back. Looking around at the view, taking it all in.

Then she turns on her heel to him. He lifts a hand to move her long, dark braids from her face, drops it to cup her jaw. Pulls her in to him, presses his lips to hers. Her hands are linked at his spine. Like they’re the only two people in the world.

There’s a feeling in the depths of your chest. A throb. Uncomfortable. Maybe even painful. You shift in your seat to move it, but it doesn’t budge. Your gaze falls, travelling along the window frame, onto the white cloth and to Joel’s elbow. Up his arm, across his shoulder.

You reach his jaw and look away. He’s watching everything.

“Alright,” your dad’s hands slap down on his thighs, “we good to go?”

“You go on,” Joel tells him. “I’ll get the bill.”

“Absolutely not, bud,” your dad protests. You and Sarah both lean back in your chairs at the same time. May as well get comfortable, we could be here a while.

“I got it,” Joel says, almost annoyed, getting up to stand. Your dad follows suit. Joel holds a hand out. “I’m sure you’ll repay me somehow. Hey, I got that job in a couple weeks I said I might need you for. Help me out and we’re even.”

Your dad’s hands are on his hips. “I ain’t happy about this, Joel.”

“Stick,” Joel mutters. “I’m sure I’ve done worse that you’ve forgiven me for.”

His eyes finally find yours and your cheeks flush. He covers it by gesturing to you to stand up with a snap of his head.

Why was that hot? Is it…weird…? That that was hot? All he did was nod his head.

You stand – Sarah copies you, sliding her chair under the table. Joel pushes yours in for you. His hand’s on your back again, fingers drawing circles. The four of you are walking toward the exit. Your dad’s still murmuring about owing money.

“Hey,” Sarah calls, pointing, “this place has an outdoor bar. Let’s go check it out.”

Your head’s beginning to dizzy. Why is your head dizzying?

Stick.

The way he pointed, flicked his head toward the door. Knowing you’d just fucking obey him. And you did.

Yep. That was hot. Hot enough that it restarts something in you; something deep down begins to wind. An idea sweeps across your mind.

Sunlight bursts through the French doors up ahead, golden rays flooding in through the glass panes. Joel stoops his head as he wanders through, dodging ivy draped around the doorway. On the other side, drowned in daylight, a paved courtyard.

There are tables and chairs dotted around. Benches in front of flowerbeds. More random statues – a cherub, a rearing horse. Wooden planters with vines growing toward the sky. Another slightly smaller fountain in the middle.

This…is fucking insane. Last night for dinner you ate leftover Chinese food ‘cause your dad was working late. Tonight, you’re strolling through a five-star hotel garden after the best fettucine of your life.

Ahead of you and Joel, your dad nudges Sarah and comically offers her his arm, elbow outstretched. She nods graciously and links her arm in his, and they saunter off, chins up, dumb grins across their faces.

Joel scoffs. Your lips tug a little, chest still tight. Body still tense. And he senses it.

“What?”

You shake your head. “Nothin’. Just…taking in the view.”

“’s nice, ain’t it?”

“Mhm,” you admit. “Word on the street is it was all your idea.”

“Wanted somewhere nice for you. For both of you. Didn’t know it would be this nice, but…it’s what you deserve.”

Your eyelashes flutter, blinking rapidly to conceal the look in your eye. The look that says…something dangerous. You betray the thoughts circling around your head and press your lips together in a tight smile. “Thanks,” is all you can muster the strength to say.

Joel looks forward; your dad and Sarah are strides ahead, still gawking at the garden, chatting, snapping photos.

“It improve your mood any?”

“I already told you, I ain’t in a mood.”

“That why you couldn’t look at me at dinner?”

It stops you in your tracks. You glare at him. Almost about to punch him out of frustration, right before you catch yourself and your expression softens.

“Did you want me to look at you?” you coo, leaning in a little. Your hands rest on his forearms.

Joel tenses. Opens his mouth to say something, then thinks better of it. But you want him to fucking say it. So, you push further.

“What we were doin’ under the table wasn’t enough? Poor baby. Guess you just wanted more of my attention, huh?”

His expression doesn’t change. Lips barely move when he utters, “Thin ice, kid.”

You shrug. “I’m not the one begging you to look at me.”

He swallows. His eyes are staring you down, huge, glowing warm in the evening sunlight. There’s so much energy thrumming around your body that you feel almost faint, like your knees could give. Just swoon, fall into his arms.

“I’m bored,” you back up, turning back to the hotel, “going to the bathroom.”

You’re gone before he can react. Taking off for the doors, stumbling out of the sun and into the cool restaurant, catching your breath when you’re safely in the shade.

You approach the bar – a deep, shiny mahogany, wine glasses hanging from above, glistening footrail at the bottom. Intricately carved, varnished and smooth. Bottles of spirits and ales and wines decorate the back wall, lined up on shelves against a glimmering mirror.

Two girls in black polo shirts stand, elbows leaning against the back shelf.

“I served a duck the other night,” one of them says to the other. She has short brown hair, freckles painted across her nose. A tattoo down her right arm. She twirls a pen between her fingers as she speaks.

“A duck?” The second girl screws her face up.

“Yep. When I gave him the check, he told me to put it on his bill.”

The second girl snorts. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Hey, excuse me?” you call over, and the girl with the tattoo steps forward, still laughing. “Where are the restrooms?”

“Upstairs,” she nods to the doors by your side, “they’re on the right.”

You nod in thanks and she twirls the pen again, resuming position.

The bathroom is freezing cold when you burst into it, almost panting, and stumble across to the sink. Your palms plant firmly on the marble countertop, head falling limp between your shoulders. When you look up to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a laugh passes your lips.

You look…flustered. Bothered. You’re not sure if Joel noticed it. You were too busy trying to conceal it to gauge whether he’d caught on.

What the fuck is he doing to you? More importantly, how is he doing it to you? Can you seriously not go a couple days without him? Need, want, desire. Everything he causes, only he can fix.

But then, he never can fucking fix it. There’s always something or someone in the way. And you swear Joel gets off on it – watching you need him, miss him, pine for him, and knowing he won’t be able to relieve it.

Staring at yourself, you start to feel that energy charging up again. Heat pooling between your legs, blood drumming through your veins. What the fuck is he doing to me? Nothing, he’s not doin’ nothing.

Nothing I can’t do right back to him.

You push yourself off of the sink and shoot one last glance in the mirror, giving your reflection an affirming nod before striding over to the door. It swings shut behind you as you pace down the hall, feeling a lot more steel and a lot less sweet.

As you round the corner to head downstairs, a familiar shadow stalks up the last two steps and bursts into the hallway. Without a word, his arm hooks around yours and he drags you back the way you came.

“Joel– What the fuck are you doin’–?”

He passes by the restrooms and onto a plush red carpet. In a blur, he flings open the first door in sight and throws you inside, ignoring your gasps.

He slams the door shut, whipping you around to shove you against it. From over his shoulder, you notice your surroundings. A bed over by the window, pristine white sheets tucked perfectly under the mattress. Nightstands spotless, desk against the wall topped with a tray holding a bottle of wine and a tiny card that reads Welcome to the Hillcrest.

You’re in one of the hotel’s rooms. One of the hotel’s empty rooms.

Of course it’s empty. It’s like he fucking planned it.

“Alright. A hotel room. Did you book it, at least?”

“Naw,” his eyes scan you up and down, “I didn’t fuckin’ book it.”

“So…what are we doing in here?”

Joel’s pressing against you, forcing you up against the wooden door. Caging you against it with the weight of his body. Clearly, in the time you spent giving yourself a pep talk in the bathroom mirror, Joel was doing the exact same downstairs. The fucker.

“Said you were bored. ‘n that’s a real shame, given I just took you to dinner. Ain’t no pleasin’ you, is there?”

Your head rolls back against the door with a laugh. “That really got to you? So, what, now you’re gonna fuck me? Wine, dine, ‘n…yeah?”

Joel’s lips are tight, eyes staring you down. He’s seething. He’s turned on, and he’s seething. Exactly where you want him.

“You get sluttier every fuckin’ day, you know that?”

You nod, teeth taking your bottom lip. “You like it, though, huh?”

Joel doesn’t reply. You lean in closer to him.

“You like me bein’ a little slut,” you whisper, running a hand softly over his hard jeans, “just for you, don’t you?”

His voice lowers in response. “Not when I can’t do nothin’ about it.”

You pull back, cocking an eyebrow. Angle your head. “You’re the one who pulled me in here. It’s an empty hotel room, man. Do whatever the fuck you want.”

He glowers at you. His face rigid, one hand still locked around yours, almost assisting you in palming himself; the other above your head, flat against the door.

His head dips. Jaw lines with yours, breath against your ear.

“Whatever the fuck I want?”

“Mhm.” You nod, maybe a little too eagerly. Not that either of you care. Then you pause. “Oh! Wait.”

Joel lifts his head, narrowing his eyes. Looks like you just cut in front of some spiel he had planned.

Your cheeks swell. “Do you have a bottle?”

“A bottle?”

“Beer bottle. You need me to go grab one? What if they don’t have beer? It’s kind of a fancy place. Would wine work? Or is it only beer that gets you goin’–”

“Alright. Enough. Fuckin’ – brat.”

You cock your head, tongue in your cheek, pushing around the shape of your mouth. Keep going.

You spurt out a laugh. “I’m a brat?”

“Yep. Never do as you’re fuckin’ told.”

You lean in close, lips brushing off of his, so close you can taste him. Feel how tense his jaw is. Your voice is low, barely above a whisper.

“Then…make me.”

Joel’s still staring you down, watching you like a predator watches its prey. His eyes are so dark you can’t read the thoughts behind them, but the way his grip tightens on your wrist, so rough it feels like he’s fucking bruising you, the way he yanks you off of the door, tells you exactly what he’s thinking.

“I ain’t got time for this,” he hisses, pulling you over to the bed.

You stagger behind him, still snickering. Joel sinks down into the mattress, thighs apart, pulling you to stand between them. You look him up and down once, smirking, his hands still roughly gripping yours. Then –

In one fluid movement, you’re over his knee. Thighs digging into your stomach, face hovering over the soft carpet. Your hands grip his calf to hold onto something – anything – as he pulls the hem of your dress up so roughly, you’re sure he’s ripped it.

“You want to act like a brat?” he asks, and you smile, feeling his hand run from the back of your knee up your thigh, coming to rest on your ass. “Get treated like one.”

The first time his huge palm slaps against your skin, your mind blanks. The sharp sting, Joel’s grunt as his hand comes down on you. The way your body jerks, and the whine you let slip as it does. The throb when he lifts his hand, the cold air hissing against your heated skin.

He’s fucking – he’s…He has you in an empty hotel room, door unlocked, entire lobby of people downstairs. Over his knee, skirt hiked to your waist, spanking you. Hard.

And then you realize. You fucking like this.

“Joel…” you moan, catching your breath when it comes back.

Another sharp sting.

“Yeah, baby? You want me to stop? You gonna stop bein’ a little brat?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, filthy grin on your lips.

“F-fuck no.”

He slaps you again. You whimper, wrapping your arms around his leg.

“Didn’t fuckin’ think so. Can feel how wet you are for me.”

He curls a finger around the hem of your panties and drags them down your thighs, letting them drop off of your legs and to the floor while his fingers return between your legs, running up and down your slit. You whine.

“Such a pretty little mouth, huh? You were runnin’ it just a second ago. Where’d all your big talk go?”

You open your mouth to reply, barely even make a sound, and his palm smacks against your ass again. He’s not done.

“Always got somethin’ to say, don’t you?” he grunts, hand coming down on you again. “You remember that day I ran you home?”

You whimper in response – yeah, I remember.

“You ‘n me alone, you being a little fucking tease. Wanted to fuck you so badly, baby. Those tight little shorts you were in…fuck…”

“Why…didn’t…you…?” you whine, muffled into the denim of his jeans. “Would’ve…fuck…let you.”

“Yeah? You wanted me to, darlin’?”

“Wanted…you,” slap, “in the kitchen.”

You gasp when Joel’s grip becomes tighter around your waist, holding you still as his hand sears against your ass. Rougher. Harder. It turns you on more.

“Wanted you in my mouth.”

You swear his breath catches. Swear you can feel his hand hovering over you, almost ready to spank you again, but he pauses.

“That right, baby? In your mouth?”

You nod, unsure if he can even see you. And then you feel him bend, feel his fist in your hair, lifting your head until his lips are curled around the shell of your ear.

“You wanna show me what you woulda done?” he whispers, breath hot.

Your body’s still shaking, throbbing; you’re a sobbing mess, but still, you utter: “Yeah.”

Joel pulls you all the way off his lap then, widening his legs for you to sit between them.

“Gotta be quick, babygirl,” he tells you, pushing you by the shoulders down onto the carpet.

Your knees part to lower yourself closer to his crotch, fingers shakily fumbling with his zipper. Joel helps you, shifting his jeans until his cock springs free. He’s as hard as if you’d been playing with him this entire time, so hard you almost begin to drool at the sight of him.

He sighs shakily, hand leaning behind on the mattress to steady himself. “You’re gonna sit there like a good girl and make me cum, alright?”

You nod, eyes blown black with lust.

He grips the back of your head with one hand and guides his cock to your mouth with the other. You take his thick length in both hands, allowing a trail of spit to fall from your lips and cover his swollen tip, running down his shaft only to be collected and dragged back up by your fingers.

“Good girl,” Joel whispers, watching you. “Doin’ what I tell you, huh?”

A few strokes and his cock’s soaked. When his head lines up with your bottom lip and you open up wide, he pushes into your mouth, filling you up without stopping to let you catch your breath. You gag when he hits the back of your throat, and Joel groans.

“Know you can take it, baby, you’ve done it before. That’s my girl.”

You whimper in response, mouth full of his cock.

“Keep makin’ those pretty noises, whole hotel’s gonna be wonderin’ what’s goin’ on up here.”

He allows you a second to pull off of him, gasping for air when your mouth’s free again.

“Want ‘em to hear,” you choke out, lips slipping back down his cock.

“Yeah?” he bucks his hips up into your mouth. “You want ‘em to know? Why don’t I just take you downstairs right now, fuck you in front of everybody, huh? You like that?”

You whine, gasp something that sounds like a yes around his warm skin.

“Thought you would, fuckin’ dirty girl. Want everyone to see just how good you take me, hm? How fuckin’ wet you get for me?”

Your fingers reach for his balls, kneading them softly in your hands. Joel’s head tips back and he lets out a guttural groan.

“Look at you,” he purrs, “soakin’ wet all over the floor, lettin’ me fuck that pretty little mouth. Needed it bad, didn’t you?”

You follow the words he’s saying with your eyes, never taking your doe-eyed gaze off of him. He’s all you can see; the surrounding world blurred by lust and sex and by Joel.

“Been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ day,” he mutters.

You pull yourself off of him, disobeying his tight grip at the back of your head.

“Yeah?” you breathe, giving in to him. “Been thinkin’ about you, too.”

Joel almost looks surprised, like he wasn’t expecting that to come out of your mouth. He’s never expecting any of what you say to come out of your mouth, is he?

Hell, you don’t expect half of what comes out of your fucking mouth these days.

You sink back down on him, eyes screwing shut with the feeling of him filling you up to the very bottom of your throat.

“So slutty, baby. You like that? Yeah?”

He’s speaking so soft but being so fucking rough, pushing you down onto his dick and then hauling you back off with a fistful of hair. His hips snap against your mouth and your hands leave his body to balance yourself on his thighs, stabilizing yourself with fingers through his loose belt loops.

You’re gagging on him, choking every time his salty head brushes against your throat, but Joel doesn’t stop. Each whimper, each muffled cry from you only pushes him closer, sends his head back in a wave of euphoria at the sight of you taking his cock in your mouth so good, the sounds of you choking on the size of him.

Your chin is soaked, dripping with spit and precum. Your cheeks dappled with tears. He doesn’t let up. You don’t fucking want him to. Your knees are slipping further apart, your cunt wetter than ever, dripping all over the plush carpet of the classiest hotel you’ve ever been in.

It’s fucking filthy, and you love every second of it.

Your lids grow heavy and you stare up at him, doused in rays from the window behind, blissed out on his body, him blissed out on yours, and you know he’s about to cum. His brows arch, his jaw falls slack. He’s focusing only on the feeling of your swollen lips around him, your throat contracting with each thrust of his hips.

He jerks, grunts out a, “Throat?”

“Uhuh,” you choke back, hands clamping around his thighs when he leans back.

One more jolt and he releases rope after rope of warm cum down you, painting the back of your throat and filling up your mouth. That all-too-familiar taste of Joel trickles all over your tongue.

He’s whispering, “Fuck, fuck, darlin’, fuck…” over and over, chanting your name, breathing curses and praises between.

When he stills and you feel him relax, your hands fall limp on your lap. You don’t move, not until Joel’s eyes flutter open and he slides his soft cock out of your mouth.

Your head rolls onto his thigh, eyes wide and soft as you gaze up at him. Equal parts enamored and painfully aroused.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he tells you. “Brats don’t get to fucking cum.”

There are words coming to your mind that you wouldn’t dare call him when he’s in this mood. Words you wouldn’t call him any other time, either, if it weren’t for the agonizing ache between your legs. This – fucking – guy.

You want to sob. Want to wrap yourself around his legs as he stands and beg him to throw you down on the bed, part your legs, use whatever the fuck he wants just to let you cum. Just to give you some release.

It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Dumb for this man.

He sits forward and tucks his limp cock back into his boxers, redoes his jeans. Then he leans down, scoops up your soaked panties and scrunches them in his fist. He slips them into his jeans pocket and, with a heaving sigh, pushes himself up from the bed.

You’re still squatted, knees apart, on the carpet. Arousal probably streaming out of you. Joel only lowers his hand and you take it, letting him pull you up to height. You still don’t believe he’s gonna let you walk out of here undealt with.

Until he wanders off toward the door, and there’s nothing left for you to do but follow.

Each step hurts, your thighs grazing against each other. Your naked cunt throbbing with every tiny movement.

Joel pauses at the door, turns the handle slowly, quietly, opening it just enough to poke his head and shoulders out, before beckoning you forward with a wave of his hand.

He blindly takes your wrist and leads you out of the room in a daze, letting the door close over as you both head back the way you came toward the staircase.

Under spotless chandeliers, past romantic paintings. Along the same plush carpet he’d shoved you along less than twenty minutes ago. Down the stairs, emerging at the bar, pair of you scanning the restaurant for your dad and Sarah. No sign of them.

“C’mon,” he nudges you, “still gotta get that bill.”

You stand by Joel’s side at the bar, catching a glimpse of the pair of you in the mirror opposite. Elbows touching, palms inches apart on the polished surface. Your heart swells to the point of almost hurting at the sight. The cover is back up, you’re back on planet earth; you’re nothing but a pair of acquaintances, friends at best.

Just a guy and his best bud’s daughter.

Joel’s tapping his credit card against the wood.

“What’s up?” you ask him.

“Hm?” he replies, eyes finding you, head still facing forward. Almost bracing for your dad’s appearance at any given moment.

“You’re being weird.”

“Ain’t being weird.”

“Still not gonna let me cum?”

He’s almost startled. You asked it quiet enough that nobody would’ve heard, if there were even anybody around you, but still. It feels like dangerous territory talking about it this out in the open.

“Nope,” he replies, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“You know I’m gonna do it myself the second I get home, right?”

He shrugs. “You gonna call me?”

“Facetime you, if you want.”

His body goes rock solid. You knock into it, smirking. Before he can muster up a reply, the girl with the tattoo shows back up, smiling at Joel. He tells her the table number and she slides him the bill.

“How much is it?” you ask him.

He turns to look at you. “You won’t be findin’ out.”

You mock offense. A small part of you isn’t kidding. “’n why’s that?”

Joel ignores you. You twist over his arm to get a look and he bats you away, holding you at bay with his elbow while he places his card over the total amount and slides it back across the bar.

You admit defeat, though it kills you a little inside.

Joel does his little head nod again and you follow him to the exit. You walk out of the restaurant together, your chin as high as your shame will allow it, Joel’s parallel to his chest. Your dad’s stood against the truck deep in conversation with Sarah. Or, rather, Sarah’s deep in conversation at your dad.

“…so, she thought he was just textin’ his boys, but here she goes onto his Instagram messages, and it’s all these hearts, all these messages sayin’…”

“Where did you two get to?”

Joel opens the door for you silently, and you breathe a slightly awkward Thanks before climbing in.

Once he’s back in the front seat alongside your dad, he replies. “Charged me twice. Problem with the card reader.”

“I hope they apologized,” your dad says with a concerned tone. “Hope they ain’t tryin’ anythin’.”

“Nah,” Joel bats it away – unconvincingly. Or is that just because you know he just…you know.

Sarah’s still yapping – Kelly’s heartbroken, doesn’t know how she’s gonna go on. She – Sarah – is furious with Kelly’s boyfriend – ex-boyfriend? – his name is…Mike? Mick? Something beginning with M…Your ears are screaming.

“Happened to me once at a gas station. Charged twice for one tank a’ gas. I went back the next day ‘n asked the girl, she said she didn’t remember me. I showed her the bank statement, said, Why the hell would I need two tanks of gas for one vehicle? She had to call her manager. It was…insanity, Joel. You be careful.”

Joel’s pretending to listen, murmuring Right and Uhuh when appropriate, but he aims every second glance at you from the rearview mirror. You tug your skirt as far down your thighs as it’ll go, feeling exposed and guilty and ashamed and yet so fucking good all in one.

You can still taste him on your tongue. Your throat feels raw, your jaw sore. He knows it, from the looks he’s giving you in the mirror. It’s satisfaction, mixed with longing, mixed with guilt. Your underwear is in his front pocket. Your thighs clamp shut, feeling yourself seeping all over his backseat. One big, chaotic mess.

The car falls into silence, Sarah’s thumbs typing rapidly, Joel’s elbow propped against the window, cheek leaning on his knuckles. You lean your own head against the window, the engine drumming into your skull, the cold of the glass relieving your scorching skin. Your dad starts quietly singing again, and you wish you had the energy to put on a convincing voice to tell him to shut up.

“Maybe tomorrow a bullet may find me, tonight, nothing’s worse than this pain in my heart.”

----------

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

Note

Batfam’s Father’s Day plans

(also on Ao3)

"Morning, Bruce."

The way Stephanie says that instantly makes him look up. She traces her socked toe on the right angles of the tile, looking down.

"Morning, Steph." Bruce puts his coffee down. "Something wrong?"

"Huh?" She perks up in realization. "No, not at all. I actually just have something for you. I stopped by Walgreens on patrol last night 'cause I ran out of antiseptic, and I saw something that reminded me of you."

She hands him a dark blue greeting card with a cartoon fruit bat and Comic Sans text reading: You drive me batty, but I love you.

"Get it? 'Cause it's a bat, and you're the Batman." She scratches the back of her neck. "Not trying to make it weird or anything, you're just a cool mentor and whatnot. But also, it's nice to have someone who you can mess around with. My old man was always talking business even when he was at home—you kinda do that too, but in a good way 'cause anything's better than being a D-list villain, y'know. Plus, unlike him, you're working on striking a balance. Sometimes you even have a sense of humor." She chuckles awkwardly. "Anyway, I'm going on a jog. Text me if you need anything."

Before he processes her rambling, she grabs a granola bar and races out the door. He opens the card and out falls out a handful of purple confetti plus an ever-rare two-dollar bill. Smiling, he brushes the confetti up and puts it in his shirt pocket.

Bruce checks his watch. Everyone else is already out, except for Cass. She was out late last night on that Clayface mission, but even she should be up by this time. He fixes her a bowl of cereal with the package instructions and brings it upstairs.

"Cass?" He knocks. "Are you up yet? It's past 9:30."

He hears the duvet crunch like a candy wrapper as she shuffles around. A moment later, the door swings open as a messy-haired Cass yawns.

"I'll leave this up here for you," he says, putting the bowl on the dresser. "Any big plans today?"

She shakes her head. "Write reports. And relax."

"Well, you deserve a break. Great job on the stakeout, Princess." He plants a quick kiss on her forehead.

"Love," she says.

"Huh?"

"Favorite thing you do. Love."

He laughs softly. "I try. Now go get dressed."

The rest of the day goes by like any other. Despite it being Sunday, he still has a meeting scheduled with some Singaporean investors on their timezone. By eleven, he and some other executives are gathered around the long conference table as the video call drones on, and it's not until over an hour later that they're finally let out. Bruce loosens his tie and Tim does the same, sighing in relief and exhaustion.

Bruce asks, "Did you have lunch yet?"

"Oh, I forgot that's a thing," Tim says, stretching. "Hey, remember that ice cream place on 32nd?"

"You want ice cream for lunch?"

"I'd break your no killing rule for their M&M cookie sundae, okay?" he says. "Besides, remember when you took my friends and I there even though we massively bombed our first off-world fight? I might still be a massive perfectionist but that made me get a little more comfortable with failing. Anyway, I thought it'd be cool to stroll down memory lane—and have junk food as a meal without Alfred knowing. Unless you're busy, which I totally get."

"Not at all," Bruce replies, putting an arm around Tim's shoulders. "Duke and Damian will be at the arcade all day and I don't have any urgent side business."

And so, instead of calling Alfred for a ride, they journey through the Gotham subways with Tim's camera capturing the Grammy-worthy saga of a billionaire CEO battling a common turnstyle. They get a few side-glances in the sparse train car, but besides a teenager asking for Tim's autograph, the civilians leave them alone. Pretty soon, they're at a 1950s-themed ice cream parlor, where the waitress slides their orders down the long chromium bar.

"Why do they call it a banana split?" Bruce asks, grabbing the cocoa powder shaker.

Tim pauses mid-bite of his cookie. "...Because they split the banana in half?"

"Really?"

He moves the whipped cream aside to reveal the cut banana in Bruce's dish.

"How would it sound if I said I never noticed that?"

He smirks. "That's why I'm the brains of this operation."

"Indeed you are." Bruce ruffles his hair. "Though this head of yours could use some shampoo."

"Will saying I love you get me a free pass out of it?"

"No." He laughs. "But I love you too, son."

Alfred catches on to their little dessert escapade and picks them up from the parlor, though not without commenting on the strawberry stain on Bruce's jacket. As Tim plugs his music into the car, Bruce takes the time to listen to the voicemails he got during their lunch break.

"Hiya Bruce," Clark's voice plays. "I hope today's going swell for you. I just want you to know that I'm glad I can call you my pard'ner." Bruce snickers at the country twang.

Next is Diana. "Bruce, I apologize if I must keep this brief since I have a curator's convention today. However, I wish to tell you that you are an invaluable teammate and even more remarkable friend."

"Hey Batman, I gave you a shoutout to the Central City press for your help taking down Weather Wizard," Barry says. "Also, thanks for letting me borrow your communicator. I can always count on you to be overprepared. Have a good one!"

"Bats, tell your kid to quit taking my yogurt from the fridge." Ah, good old Hal. "Also, today's all about guys like you, so... yeah. I admit, you could be worse."

Finally, there's one from Zatanna. "Afternoon, Bruce! I'd tell you in person if I wasn't caught up in Kahndaq, but I hope today is extra special for you. I know how much the birds mean to you, and I know they're gonna treat you well."

(There's also one from Ollie, but he's just asking if he can use the communicator after Barry. In the background, Dinah is is clearly ordering food.)

After dropping Tim and Alfred home and switching to a more discreet vehicle, Bruce makes his way to pick two of his other kids up from the arcade.

"Did you guys have fun?" Bruce asks as they climb in.

"We decimated every game," Damian says, "and won you the finest specimen as a trophy."

He plops a five-foot Snorlax into the front seat and buckles the seatbelt.

"This is for me?" Bruce asks.

"Tt, who else would it be for?"

"I didn't win as many tickets," Duke says, "but I also got you a spider ring and a Chinese finger trap." He puts them in the cupholder.

"Why are you giving me all your prizes?"

"Again, who else would we give them to?" Damian asks.

Duke says, "I think what he means is that you do a lot for us, so this is a thanks from us."

As silly as it might seem, Bruce is genuinely touched.

Pre-patrol dinner is a quiet affair, with Kate stopping by because she apparently forgot to go grocery shopping. She takes a fingerling potato off his plate.

"Um, you're welcome?" he says.

"Bruce, we're family. It's what we do." She takes a bite.

He takes a piece of asparagus from her. "I wish all of us were here, though. Too bad Dick and Jason have that Penguin stakeout. Hopefully they're being safe."

"Even if things go wrong, they were taught by the best. You should trust them more." Selina gets up and places a peck on his cheek before going to get a drink.

"I do," he mumbles into his meal. "It's the world I don't trust."

As he puts on his cowl, he asks Barbara for an update on the evening. So far, Duke is handling a carjacking, the girls are preoccupied with a strip mall hostage situation, Damian is patrolling Metropolis with Jon, and Kate is kicking off her shift with a car chase against Two-Face. Tim and Selina are staying back to catch up on some overdue reports, but other than that, the cave is quiet.

"Before you go," Barbara says, "my dad was cleaning out the attic and found something you might like."

From her bag, she pulls out a blue mug that says: World's Okayest Dad.

"My brother got it for him a long time ago, but... you know. It's all yours now, if you want it."

He takes it, running his thumb along the words.

"It suits you," she says before turning back to relay something to Stephanie.

The route laid out for him tonight gives him the perfect opportunity to swing by and check on two of his boys. He lands on the rooftop silently, where Nightwing and Red Hood have already set up camp. Evidently, they don't notice him as they keep going with their conversation.

"Did you get dropped on your head as a baby?" Jason asks. "Sour cream and Greek yogurt are not the same thing."

"They totally are, change my mind." Dick glances through his binoculars. "No sign of Cobblepot yet."

A moment goes by as Jason not-so-covertly steals some of his brother's patrol snacks.

"So how'd family therapy go yesterday?" Jason asks. "Did the old bat finally show an emotion?"

"It was pretty insightful, at least on my part." Dick lowers his binoculars. "I think I realized where Bruce's persistence comes from. It's annoying as hell, but I think that's how he maintains hope. And who knows, maybe it's his love language."

Jason scoffs.

"I'm serious," he says. "I know none of us are stellar at this family thing, but we care about each other. You can't deny that. We just gotta... refine how we express it."

"Count me out."

"Jaybird."

"Codenames, Dickhead."

Dick snickers. "You love us, admit it. All of us."

Jason mutters a string of curses under his breath before saying, "If you tell him, I'm filling your mattress with sour cream."

Bruce smiles and leaps to the next building.

At the end of the night, Bruce finds Alfred brewing tea in the kitchen and takes the kettle from him.

"I got this," he says. "Why don't you go relax in the living room? I think they added your favorite detective movie to Netflix."

"This is a pleasant surprise." Alfred raises an eyebrow. "What brought it on?"

"It's Father's Day, of course," he replies, pouring the cups of tea. "You know you've always been a second dad to me."

"You made that clear with last year's breakfast surprise," Alfred says. "Care to join me?"

"Always," Bruce says. "By the way, do the kids seem different to you today?"

622 notes · View notes

kageyuji · 9 months

Text

meeting his friends

⤷ oikawa, iwaizumi, kuroo ; [gn!reader]

warnings/genre: none, just fluff :) also not beta read el oh el

notes: uhm. heyyyy i’m back from the dead. anyway its 2023 what is wrong w me IUFHRE

━━ oikawa;

oikawa had always been good about hiding his nerves. he made a habit of hiding his anxieties with a charismatic smile and witty line.

this is why his current predicament was a statistical outlier.

he sat at the door of the gym, where he could hear the impact of volleyballs on the ground and the sharp chirps of shoes against the floor. he could also hear his heart pounding in his ear and feel the heat rising from his chest to the tips of his ears. his palms were sweaty and he couldn’t manage to make himself stand still.

it was when he heard your voice call his name that he felt relief wash over him. for a moment, anyway.

you smiled. you were so happy, so excited, to finally meet his friends. don’t get him wrong — he was excited to show you off, and to finally get to brag about how great you were to his friends. the issue he had was the insecurity biting at him.

“are you ready?” you asked, voice near-mockingly sweet for how nervous he felt.

“of course, my dear,” he smiled, placed a quick kiss to your forehead, and grabbed your hand. his thumb began to rub small circles around your knuckles, although you couldn’t help but think that maybe it was more so to calm his nerves than yours.

as the door shut with an awkwardly-loud bang, his team stopped. a single volleyball bounced once more against the floor and hit iwaizumi in the ankle almost comically.

“hey,” he started. his mouth was dry. was he breathing fast? he felt like he wasn’t getting enough air. “this, this is y/n. i’m sure you’ve heard me-”

“they’re your partner, right?” mattsun called.

you squeezed his hand. the smile on your face eased the fluttering in his chest, almost, almost making him forget about the fact that he hadn’t said anything.

“yes. yes, they are.” he realized now that he was smiling. he squeezed your hand back. “and i imagine that they’ll be around for a while, so get used to their face.

━━ iwaizumi;

“i’m excited!” oikawa whined.

of course he was excited. excited because he knew how much oikawa had been itching to embarrass him ever since his relationship status had reached oikawa’s ears. iwaizumi, as much as he adored you, was painfully aware of this fact and had been equally concerned to introduce you to setter.

“i’m aware, ‘kawa, just don’t scare them off at the earliest convenience. okay?”

“loud and clear.” oikawa gave a mock-salute and sat back in his chair. it earned a small smile, but it didn’t change the fact that iwaizumi was a little bit concerned still.

a knock was heard on the door.

iwa was on his feet in his second and opening the door just as quickly. he met you with a smile, although you weren’t ignorant to the nerves hiding behind it. he had taken the time to text you on your way over and warn you that oikawa might subject you to embarrassing stories and (well-meaning) jokes at iwa’s expense.

“hey! i’m y/n,” you spoke.

“it’s nice to meet you,” oikawa smiled and stood up to meet you where you were standing just in side the door. “i’m oikawa. although i’m sure your boyfriend talks about me at all hours of the day.”

“whatever helps you sleep at night.” iwaizumi said. “anyway, you can come in and sit.”

oikawa mock bowed; back bent perfectly, one arm tucked under his chest and one against his back, pleased look on his face. the whole nine yards.

this was going to be… fun.

━━ kurro;

“i would imagine that i know how to impress my own partner.” kurro frowned.

“do you?” kenma asked, holding up the flowers he had gotten you.

he always meant well with gifts. although there were some times where he sent them without really knowing why he was getting them — he just liked to give you things, he supposed. regardless, he had bought the flowers with the thought process of them being a peace offering between you and his friends. why he needed a peace offering, he didn’t know, but he just wanted the interaction to go smoothly.

his favorite people were meeting each other. he was allowed to be a little nervous, alright?

that said, he drew his attention back to the flowers. met his black stare, kenma sighed.

“the thorns. and the leaves. take them off.” kenma huffed. he handed the bouquet back over to kurro. from beside the black-haired individual, bokuto gave the flowers a tentative sniff.

“get your nose out of their flowers!” kurro frowned again.

bokuto held his hands up in defense, although the three of them were now laughing. he joined kenma on the couch and left kurro to tend to the flowers. from his trek to the kitchen, they vaguely heard something and timing and leaves, although they couldn’t have been bothered to clear up whatever he had been babbling about.

that was, until a few minutes later when the two of them heard a knock. they shared a knowing look before bokuto fell over himself trying to race to the door. he opened it with record speed and a crazed look on his face.

you looked surprised to see him at the least.

“hi. uhm, bokuto, i assume?”

from behind him, you watched as a blonde grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him back into the house. he offered you an apologetic look. he called for kurro, before looked back at you.

“sorry. you can come in. well… it’s not my house, but you can come in.”

you blinked. well, ok then.

you stepped inside in time to see bokuto plopping himself down on the couch and kenma walking over to join him. as if on cue, kurro rounded the corner with roses in his hand.

his eyes darted from you, to the two of his friends, and then back to you. he looked akin to a deer caught in headlights before he muttered a preemptive apology for the two of them.

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ju1cyfru1t · 9 months

Note

hey!! if you are taking requests, i wanted to request the tmnt mm! boys having a crush on a fem! reader who’s EXACTLY like raph. she loves fighting, may or may not have anger issues, cursed with resting bitch face, BUT, she’s actually really sweet and outgoing. never afraid to speak her mind, so, she may come across as rude sometimes, but, she never really means to be. (lowkey a biased request but SSSHH, we’re not gonna talk about that)

MUTANT MAYHEM REQUEST⁉️⁉️ AYO THANK YOU

Mutant Mayhem! Mikey, Leo, Donnie, Raph x crush! fem! reader

tmnt mutant mayhem x reader

reader with a Raph-like personality

fluff! :D hcs, fem! reader, cursing

PSA: I HAVE ONLY SEEN THIS MOVIE LIKE TWICE SO I TRIED MY BEST 🤞🤞🤞

Let’s just set this up by saying you have a class with them in school and you get partnered for a project or sit next to each other or WHATEVER YOU WANT. Any class you want bae; math, English, science, idc. all of them IDC

Mikey 🍉

- the moment he met you, he made it his goal to make you laugh or at the very least smile

- “*insert dumbass joke here*, am I right? HAHAha…hah..ha…”

- Lowkey intimidated at first, he doesn’t really know what to say

- will not stfu tho

- ^not in like a bad way or anything. he’s just outgoing

- and when you finally show your outgoing side? pure relief for him

- really starts to like you after seeing your sweeter, softer side. he appreciates that you seem to trust him.

- again, he is not giving up until he can make you laugh or at least smile just a little bit, no matter how long it takes. 5 minutes? 5 days? NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER GIVE UP ‼️

- talks a lot, but is also a fairly good listener while you talk about your interests

- lots of compliments from him

- still a little intimidated by you and really does whatever you tell him to

- ^ “yes ma’am.”

- it’s giving golden retriever + black cat. sunshine + midnight rain. or a tornado or something

Leo

- You know that moment when he saw April in the movie? Shhhhh just pretend it was like that when he saw you

- except with your RBF

- nervous af but he’s trying his best

- “your number? for the project? uh, I mean, yeah that’s cool-“

- really wants to impress you in some way

- “I mean not to brag or anything, but-“

- AND you’re opening up to him? have mercy

- shocked at how actually nice you are despite your intense demeanor

- admires your confidence more than anything as he gets to know you

- “you like wrestling? yeah, my brother does that…it’s cool.”

- speaking of his brothers, they are FLAMING him

- him??? with a girl like YOU?? preposterous

- the type to agree with almost anything you say so you’ll like him. esp if you’re really outspoken and opinionated.

- if he ever saw you get into a fight, he is freaking tf out and not in a good way

- asks to borrows pencils or paper just to have an excuse to talk to you when he can’t think of anything else

- SIMP. he will walk you to class, would offer to carry your books, the whole shabang.

Donnie

- your RBF is really catching him off guard

- like, why are you looking at him like that???

- lowk scared of you but would never admit it, not even to himself

- the only way you’re really speaking for the first time is if you’re partnered for a project or if you talk to him or wtv, but he is not starting a conversation with you on his own

- IMMEDIATELY recognizes that you seem eerily similar to someone he knows really well…

- heaven forbid he find out you have a common interest. whether it be k-pop, anime, comics/manga, technology, ANYTHING. he is info dumping whether you want him to or not

- really prefers your nicer, outgoing side over your anger any day

- it would take a really long time for him to recognize that he’s interested in you

- I mean, it’s kind of unexpected for him to like someone who’s so…rugged? tough? intimidating?

- probably easy to argue with if you don’t agree on something

- thinks it’s hella funny to see you put someone in there place and thinks it’s so amazing to be able you can stand up for yourself like that

- unsure on how to express his emotions properly, but he’s trying his best. I mean, he’s not exactly experienced-

- videos any fight you get into while shouting “WORLD STAAAR”

Raph

- what a dream duo /sar

- being so for real, you would probably not get along at first. angry + angry does not mix well.

- he would start to like you after getting to know you better

- you know when you meet someone and you just have so much in common that it just like clicks???

- feels like you won’t judge him for his issues bc you’re the same way. not that he cares what others thinks, but it’s still nice yk?

- even though it is easy for you to get into stupid arguments but shhhhh

- DENIES DENIES DENIES

- “ ew, I do not like her.” even tho he totally does

- lowk rlly wants you to come to his wrestling matches after you talk about liking fighting

- “yeah, you could come watch sometime…or whatever.”

- utilizes the ‘playing it cool’ method. tries to at least.

- you’re getting into a fight? hit him up. TRUST he will be there

- ^cheers you on

- brags about all the crazy shit he and his brothers do to impress you even if you’re really not all that impressed

#tmnt mutant mayhem #teenage mutant ninja turtles #mutant mayhem #teenage mutant ninja turtles mutant mayhem #mutant mayhem leo #mutant mayhem mikey #mutant mayhem donnie #mutant mayhem raph #mutant mayhem x reader #mm leo #mm mikey #mm donnie #mm raph #mm x reader #mm Leo x reader #mm Donnie x reader #mm Mikey x reader #mm raph x reader #tmnt x reader

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pipipyuni · 1 year

Text

@evelinakostina asked: Hello, sorry to bother you, I hope this fits the criteria, you can write something about tsu'tey and the avatar girl, where tsu'tey is trying to take care of the reader, but she does not understand his hints because where she comes from is taken care of in a completely different way. Have a nice day

In Sickness and in Health

wc: 1941

gender: fem

cw(s): none! all fluff

pairing: tsu'tey x dreamwalker!reader

an: IM SORRY THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED YESTERDAY BUT I WAS FARMING THE LUNAR REVEL PASS ON LEAGUE WITH FRIENDS SAJDOJSA. anyway i think i deviated a little too much from the request, i'm sorry

content can be read below the cut!

You never knew that your avatar body could get sick.

It was a strange feeling, to say the least. One moment you’re fine, then the next you’re sweating bullets, head pounding as you lean on a tree to steady yourself. Neytiri–ever the dear–is by your side in an instant. Her fingers trace your lips, counting your rapid breaths before placing her palm flat against your forehead.

Clicking her tongue, she scoops you up, quickly weaving through the dense forest all the way back to the village. She tucks you closer to her chest as she nears the village, hiding you from the curious gazes of the people–Tsu’tey in particular.

He could deny it all he wanted, but she could see the way his ears flattened and his tail whipped around restlessly whenever you were in the vicinity, whether it was in your frail human form, or this one. By some grace of the Great Mother, you had yet to notice the usually spiteful warrior’s affection for you–or perhaps you have, she’s not one to pry.

“Sylwanin would not hate you for loving someone else, Tsu’tey.”

Neytiri recalls the look of shock that painted his face. From the comically dark indigo hue that covered his cheeks to the dilated pupils that swam with far too many emotions for her to pinpoint. It was quite funny to her, seeing someone as poised as Tsu’tey fumbling like a newborn ikran under the speculation of being in love. She would have never guessed he would do so for a dreamwalker; a sky demon.

The affection he holds for you is one she hasn’t seen from him in a long time, despite being betrothed to him not long after the death of her older sister.

Hence why she simply just can’t allow him to see you in such a vulnerable state. She just knows the prospect of losing yet another one of his loved ones would surely break down the walls Tsu’tey tries so hard to keep up.

Okay…perhaps she’s being a tad dramatic, but she can just picture the deep scowl that would tug at his lips if he were to catch sight of you. She’s already rolling her eyes at the thought of his lecture as she enters her mother’s quarters.

Mo’at flitters about the small space, mixing herbs and mumbling prayers beneath her breath. Neytiri watches her mother work for a moment, unable to find a moment to interrupt. However, when she feels your breaths become labored against her chest, she clears her throat loudly.

Mo’at’s soft chanting comes to an abrupt stop as she turns to face her daughter.

“Oel ngati kameie, sa’nok.”

“Oel ngati kameie, maite. What brings you here?” The Tsahik tilts her head, knowing gaze falling to your weakened form.

Neytiri shifts her weight between her feet, licking her lips as her narrowed eyes meet your closed ones, “I am not sure what happened. She had been doing fine for most of our hunt, and suddenly she collapses.”

Humming, Mo’at motions her daughter closer with a flick of her wrist, repeating the same motions that Neytiri had done previously. With her palm on your forehead, she takes a deep breath, allowing Eywa’s visions to pass behind her eyelids. When she opens her eyes, she’s met with Neytiri’s impatient ones. They were just like her father’s, she notes bittersweetly, but she answers her daughter’s unasked question nonetheless.

“She will be okay, my daughter. Just as it has come, her sickness will pass.”

Neytiri’s shoulders slump with relief, but they are immediately tense once again when her ears catch wind of someone else entering her mother’s hut. She turns to hiss at the sudden intrusion but is silenced by her mother’s raised arm.

“Tsu’tey,” her mother starts, “oel ngati kameie.”

Cursing beneath her breath, Neytiri moves to hide you from the warrior’s sight. The man in question dips his head respectfully to the Tsahik, bringing his hand up before motioning to her.

His gaze drifts to Neytiri, who offers a small nod in return. There’s movement in her arms, but she turns away before he can get a better look. Mo’at then steps between him and her daughter, further blocking his view.

“Why have you come here, my son?” She begins to circle him, lifting his arms and tail in search of any noticeable injuries.

“Saeyla and Ka'ani have fallen ill,” he states, ears twitching curiously when he hears something akin to a cough, but he brushes it off.

He watches as she stalks back to her previous place in the middle of the hut, her face twisting into a pensive expression. His lips part to voice his concerns but is stopped short by a small noise coming from the thing coddled in Neytiri’s arms.

“The hell…? Where am I?”

The voice, though graveled and nasally, was too familiar for him not to be able to recognize. Mo’at sighs upon seeing something spark within Tsu’tey’s eyes, moving aside to allow him passage deeper into her hut, and more importantly, closer to you.

“Neytiri? Fuck, I ruined the hunt, didn’t I?” You groan dramatically, resting your forehead against her torso.

She merely laughs softly, “You are fine, meylan, we can go hunting again once you are all better.” She then turns when she feels Tsu’tey’s glare burning holes into her back, but not before rolling her eyes.

You offer a weak wave in greeting once you meet his gaze. His jaw clenches at the sight of you, fists repeatedly tightening and relaxing at his side in an attempt to ground himself. Your name falls from his lips, almost as if he’s afraid it’s really you. He’s never seen you so…weak before.

It was jarring, frightening, almost. You were usually so strong, keeping up with most of the clan despite your synthetic genetic makeup. And yet, here you were, as weak and frail as your other form.

He steps closer to you and Neytiri, lips parting ever so slightly. Upon noticing his hesitation, Neytiri’s gaze softens further, “She will be okay, brother. Eywa has already declared it.”

His shoulders sag, making him appear much smaller than he actually was.

“That may be true,” Mo’at starts, gaining the attention of the two younger Na’vi, “but she will still require care.” Her gaze falls to Tsu’tey, the beginnings of a small grin pulling at the corner of her lips.

“I will take care of her,” his declaration was firm, and neither of the two women expected the emotionally stunted man to openly voice his concerns. Neytiri smiles, the knowing glint in her eyes causing him to glare at her, hissing softly as he takes you into his arms.

“Oel ngati kameie, Tsu’tey…” With that small greeting, you’re out like a light, resting peacefully in the comforts of Tsu’tey’s arms. He sighs, the gathered tension in his shoulders dissipating at the sight of you at peace.

–

The next time you find yourself in your avatar body, you’re still sick, much to your dismay. Though you feel significantly better, your limbs are still weak and your head still pounds with the same persistent headache as before.

Your eyes take in the surroundings, the sight of the unfamiliar hut rousing your confusion. You had expected to wake up in one of the communal hammocks, or at least Mo’at’s hut.

The room was nearly empty, save for the hammock you rested on and a few measly decorations that seemed placed in a vain attempt to fill space. However, despite the almost eerily emptiness of the hut, there was something strikingly familiar with it all. Something so–

The makeshift door to the hut is pushed aside, mid-morning light spilling into the room and nearly blinding you. You squint at the figure in the doorway, ears flattening as you hiss at the headache.

Tsu’tey stands awkwardly in the doorway, seemingly contemplating whether or not he should enter. In his hands, a fresh kill is clutched tightly in one of his hands, while the other holds his bow.

You stare at him questioningly, head tilting slightly as he slowly stalks through the hut. His long legs allow him to make his way to your side in just a few powerful strides. He licks his lips, presenting you the kill similarly to how a child would show their parents their artwork

“I have brought you food.”

You nod slowly, a small smile beginning to make its way to your lips, “Thank you, Tsu’tey.”

Seemingly approving of your response, he lights the small hearth in the center of the hut and begins to cook. The silence between the two of you is comfortable and only broken by the sound of the crackling fire as it licks restlessly at the air.

You only speak when he makes his way back to you, cooked food in hand, “So…this your place?” It was a stupid question, really. Of course this was his place; he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t! Unbothered by your obvious question, he nods as he takes a bite out of his piece of food.

He spares the hut a glance around the room, wincing at the bareness, suddenly feeling self-conscious of it, “I apologize for the lack of decoration. I am not home often…or good at decorating.” He turns away, seemingly embarrassed as he mumbles the last part to himself.

Your giggle brings his attention back to you, his eyes narrow in a glare while his nose scrunches. It’s cute, you think.

“Maybe I could help? I always enjoyed redecorating my college dorm back on Earth.”

Tsu’tey’s eyes widen, taken aback by your bold offer. His lips part, tongue darting out swiftly to wet his lips–an unconscious habit he picked up through the years. He stands abruptly, clearing his throat, much to your confusion.

“I will stand guard outside, you need to rest.”

Before you can ask him what was wrong, he’s already outside. You can see his shadow peeking beneath the makeshift door.

Not even ten minutes later, you hear voices quietly arguing outside the door.

“She is unwell, Jakesully! Go home,” you hear Tsu’tey hiss at the second figure. The shadows shift. The one you assume is Jake’s backs up but still remains in front of the door. You begin making your way over, pushing aside the vines that make up the door despite your weakened state.

“Jake…?” The two men turn at the sound of your voice, and you swear a look of relief crosses Jake’s face when he meets your gaze. He steps forward but is immediately stopped by Tsu’tey, who stands between the two of you and pulls you into his side, his tail thrashing irritatedly behind him. Raising his hands in surrender, Jake’s questioning eyes flicker between you and the warrior blocking his path.

“Hey, I got some medicine from Max,” the former dreamwalker holds up a small container, shaking it. Tsu’tey takes it, glaring at Jake before motioning him to go with a flick of his chin. Your friend complies, but not before giving you a sly grin and a wink.

You turn to look at Tsu’tey, whose glare remains fixed on where Jake had previously stood.

You snort at his pinched expression, laying a hand on his chest. He gingerly places his free hand above yours. Your breath hitches in your throat, gaze snapping to meet his own. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against your own, breath intermingling with yours as his heartbeat picks up beneath your hand. For a moment the two of you gaze into each other's eyes.

And for the first time in the last few days, you felt at peace.

©pyuni 2022 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site

[masterlist]

#avatar—✸#avatar x reader #tsu'tey #tsu'tey x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar 1 #avatar #tsu'tey fluff

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freudyou · 2 months

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"Make it look like a freak lighting accident"

It’s been years since I’ve revisited Due South, but the @ds30below event sparked my interest again, and I decided to watch a few episodes with my bud @flownwrong to celebrate. We watched three episodes that stuck in my mind the most over the years after being absent from the show for so long: Bird in the Hand, Eclipse, and The Ladies’ Man, and I found all three to be a very rewarding rewatch, even though my memory of the rest of the series is a bit hazy.

Bird in the Hand:

When we started our mini marathon, I didn’t realize that this was the only ep of the three where Fraser’s dad plays a role, and I forgot how solid Pinsent was at pulling comic relief duty. The scene where he popped up demanding that Fraser murder Gerard immediately after Gerard was droning on about how Robert’s dogged nobility was his ultimate downfall had me rolling, as did the bit where he—probably correctly— asserted that Ray would shoot Gerard for him if Fraser really asked him to (aww). One thing in particular about his character that struck me while watching this episode were the moments where he actually interacted with the environment around him in a way that impacted people other than Fraser by implanting the idea to retreat in McFadden’s mind and having Gerard attempt to grab his hand while dangling in the air. In my memory, it was a lot more ambiguous whether Robert was actually a spirit or a figment of Fraser’s imagination, so that ended up being kind of a fun twist for me.

Since the other two episodes we watched were very Ray K centric, I’m glad we did one that had a focus on Fraser’s emotional state. The scene where he confronted Robert about stubbornly refusing help in life and said “I never loved anyone as much as I love you” while Robert was still trying to find ways to derail the conversation is a fan favorite for a reason; it’s a rare, intensely vulnerable moment for Fraser and I really enjoyed the way that Paul Gross pulled back from it a little. In another show with another character, it’s easy to imagine a scene like this being a more blatant, emotional showstopper, with the neglected son saying this in a fit of tearful anger that’s meant to make his father rear back in surprise. Instead, Paul Gross delivers the line in an understated way that’s almost more like puzzled frustration, as if Fraser is trying to piece something together about himself instead, which I thought was a really nice touch to the scene that made it feel very Fraser. I also love the cunning way that Fraser brought it back around just a few minutes later by weaponizing male emotional repression in order to freak out everyone else in the room and gain the upper hand (as well as have an opportunity to annoy Ghost Dad by calling him short) while also delivering some genuine truths: Gerard really did break his heart.

Last but certainly not least, I adore how Ray kept trying to take care of Fraser throughout the episode in his own grumpy, special way. Sure, trying to orchestrate some Fraser-on-Gerard police brutality didn’t end up being the most well received suggestion, but it’s sweet that he acted extra vengeful to make up for Fraser’s dutiful restraint. I also forgot that the “Mentally Deficient” sticker gag and the tape recorder conversation were both in this episode. The Bickering Married Couple vibes between them were always such a classic part of the show, so it was nice to see that on display.

Bird in the Hand really held up strongly against my fond memories of it, and I was a little surprised at how easy it was to slide back into this world and be immersed in it after being away for so long. Sometimes I guess you actually can go back home again.

#due south #ds30below #i will post my observations about Eclipse and The Ladies’ Man separately hopefully either tonight or tomorrow #but i had a blast watching all three #thanks alina!

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miss-madness67 · 8 months

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The Law Firm (Sam one-shot)

Prompt: You start a new internship and your boss is kinda hot.

If I were to be even more nervous than I am right now, I would probably be shaking like a leaf. My hands are sweaty as I approach clumsily the entrance of the building. The first time I came here, was two weeks ago, when I had the interview for the internship position. If it wasn't for my nearly neat résumé, I might have not gotten the job. I tend to ramble a lot when I'm nervous, and it clearly was showing on the day of the interview.

This is the moment I've been waiting for throughout my whole career; when I get to put into practice my knowledge about the law. Even if it means starting as an intern pouring coffee for my boss. Whom I have yet to meet. In the interview, they told me that I’d be working under one of the senior lawyers to learn and observe. Then, if I do a good job, they might consider promoting me to a junior lawyer. I am really excited about the things to come. Perhaps too much because as I climb up the steps of the building in a hurry, I almost fall over. A steady hand in my arm stabilizes me enough to gather my bearings.

“Oh, thank you, I'm sorry.” I don't know what I'm apologizing for.

“No problem,” I finish dusting off my pants and look up to the voice’s owner that saved me from embarrassment.

My face lights up a deep shade of pink at the gorgeous man who stares at me. He's quite tall, possibly the tallest of the people around us. His hair is long, shaggy, and brown. His eyes are warm and inviting. This man is possibly the most handsome one I've encountered in my whole life. When I come to the realization of this fact, I notice that he is still holding my arm and, as well as me, he’s scrutinizing my appearance.

With a light chuckle, he lets go of me. “We wouldn't want you falling to the ground, would we?” He points at the coffee I hold in my hand. Luckily, it didn’t spill.

“No, of course not.”

For a sweet moment, none of us say anything. Normally, I would thank him again and leave, but there’s something pulling me to make this interaction last longer. So I introduce myself with the most confidence I can muster. He seems to like my approach because he smiles brightly at me.

“I'm Sam Winchester.” The name tries to wake something deep in my brain, but my overly restless self cannot comprehend what it is.

“Nice to meet you! Are you new here?” I don't know what prompts me to ask such a question, maybe it's a desire not to be the only one starting today in a new environment.

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, but he doesn't seem to be in a hurry to go inside.

“Well, you could say that.”

“Great!” I beam at him. “That way I won't be the only one.”

He can hear the relief in my voice. “Come on, I'm sure it won't be that bad.”

I nod enthusiastically, “I know, but I always get super nervous on my first day.”

Sam smiles sympathetically. There’s something akin to hesitancy when he says: “I’m sure your boss won’t be so hard on you.”

I shrug, “I haven’t met them, but I heard they’re fairly young. Well, at least my supervisor is, I had a meeting with the big boss the other day, Bobby. He seems like a good man.”

He chuckles. “Oh, yeah, Bobby’s great… as for your supervisor, don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t be too hard on you.”

“Well, I certainly hope so. If you haven't noticed, I tend to make a fool of myself easily.” I want to add something else, there's this little voice in the back of my head that is pressuring me to ask Sam Winchester out, even though I just met him. Maybe because he's handsome, or because he seems to be kind-hearted, but I cannot shut up my thoughts. Normally, I wouldn't flirt with him after just one meeting. This isn’t a normal day, and nerves affect me almost the same way alcohol does; they give me a false sense of security and make me say things that I probably shouldn't. “So, since we’re both new, why don't we meet up for lunch?”

His eyes widen comically, but before he can answer, a voice coming from afar calls his name: “Ah, Sam!” It’s a young man wearing a pristine black suit, and he’s walking toward us. I've seen him before, I think his name is Brady. He was the one who led me into Bobby's office for the interview. “Oh, I see you met the new intern. Hi there, how are you liking it so far?”

“Hello,” I greet, “I haven't gone inside yet.” I discreetly check my watch to see that it's still early. “Sam was kind enough to help me when I almost tripped.”

“I see,” Brady nods, “Sam, huh?” The question isn’t directed towards me because he's looking at the tall man. Sam gives him a warning glance. I cannot comprehend what is happening until Brady speaks again. “Well, it's good you’ve already met your supervisor. He was promoted just yesterday. Honestly, it saves me the trouble of making introductions.”

His words render me speechless. What the fuck did he just say? Did I just flirt with my supervisor? Which is basically having the hots for my boss. Sam looks at me with an apologetic glance. I cannot meet his eyes. Brady mustn’t notice the silence his comment created because he continues: “I'm gonna head inside, see you later!”

His happy pace doesn’t falter one bit. I'm considering that maybe he was aware of what his statement would do.

“I apologize for my previous behavior… I didn't mean-”

Sam doesn't let me continue, “you didn't?” He ponders for a moment. “That's a shame, we would've had a nice time.” I can tell by the way his eyes shine and his mouth forms a gentle smile that he is not teasing me, but actually means what he's saying. “Why don’t you come by my office at 2 p.m. and then we can go grab some lunch?”

He doesn't leave room for opinions because he turns around and walks inside the building without another word. What just happened? Do I have a date with my boss? I guess this first day isn't as crappy as I thought it would be.

#supernatural #fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fanfic #spn x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester fluff #alternate universe #supernatural fic

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 2 years

Text

Gifting your Husband Boudoir Photos

for your Anniversary

Featuring the MSBY Black Jackals

MSBY Black Jackals including Alexandre Joffe and Oriver Barnes x Female Reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content

A/N: real talk, writers block and diminishing self-confidence in my writing has got me struggling. So please accept my these hcs whilst I work on others!

Shoyo Hinata

This absolute angel omg

It was via your friends suggestion that you make something for Shoyo to “take on the road”

You planned to take the photos right before your anniversary to surprises him

The photos turned out amazing and you looked incredible!

So why were you so nervous?

It’s not like your husband had never seen you like this

Maybe it was because the camera always seemed to add pounds and make every angle unflattering

Your photographer swore the pictures turned out amazing and since the photographs weren’t ready until the day of your anniversary, you didn’t get a chance to look at them

You quietly handed the box to Shoyo as he smiled at you

“What did you get me baby?” He asked as you shrugged and blushed

He carefully opened it, seeing the eloquent wrapping and album

“Is this an album of my greatest moments?” He joked as he slowly turned the cover over and opened the first page

He immediately slams it shut, eyes wide 😳

He looks at you, face bright red and slowly opens the book again

Please he has to check to make sure he’s not dreaming Yn 🤭

“I-I thought it would be something nice for you to have when you travel,” you say, playing innocently with your fingers in your lap

Your husband doesn’t hear you Yn, man’s is too busy scrolling the pages of your masterpiece

“Do you like it? I know some of the angles might not be that good-”

“YN these are all so fucking perfect, god you’re so perfect! I love you so much!” He says, grabbing you and hauling you into his lap

“Are they really that good?” You ask as you begin to look at the magnificent pictures in front of you

“Are you kidding Yn? How do you expect me to share a room with any of the guys when I have this book to look at?” Shoyo groans as you laugh

Don’t worry Yn, your husband is well taken care of

Shion Inunaki

I 100% know this man is so funny

Legit he’s probably the comic relief the Jackals need

This man doesn’t take life to seriously and neither do you

Matter of fact, you two often play pranks on each other

Lighthearted and fun tricks that keep things fun and keep your marriage entertaining

That’s why you decided to surprise your husband with the gift that keeps on giving

Pictures of you 🥰

You always joke with him about how he has a literal slideshow screensaver of you

So you thought you’d give him some “new material” 😌

“Geez Yn what’s in this box a brick?” Your husband says unwrapping the giant box

“Yes Shion because nothing says ‘I love you’ like a brick,” you say, rolling your eyes

Your husband laughs, opening the tissue paper to see a white photo album

“Awe babe you redid our wedding album?” he says opening the book

What a naive boy 😅

His eyes widen when he sees the first photo, instantly shutting it and looking around

You sit there, a huge smirk on your face as your husband eyes lock with yours

“YN you’re naked in these!” He whisper shouts as you burst out laughing

“Just thought you’d like a little inspiration to think about during a game,” you winked as your husband carefully thumbed thought every single page

“The fact that you think I’ll ever be able to focus on volleyball again with you looking like this, fuck YN!” He said as he studied every picture

“I mean, I have the outfits if you need more inspiration,” you said

Your husbands eyes snapped up and he quickly stood, grabbing your hand and tugging you to your bedroom

“Fuck those photos, I want the real thing!”

Atsumu Miya

This man wants to show his gorgeous wife off to every single person he knows

“Hey there, nice to meet you! This is my beautiful wife YN Miya!”

“Hey, great spike! Have I told you about how amazing my wife YN Miya is?”

Atsumu is that flashy husband who is so incredibly proud of you in everything you do

So when you surprise him with the gift of boudoir photos

Oh boy 🥵

This man will absolutely D I E on the spot

“What’s this princess?” Your husband asks as he opens the gift

“Since you won’t be around for our anniversary, I wanted to give you my gift a little early,” you say, smiling brightly

He opens the gift, while simultaneously talking

“Babe, I haven’t had a chance to get you a gif- 😳,” your husband stops, mid sentence as he stares at the photos in front of him

Man’s is silent

Yn you better take a picture for Samu and Suna because you know they are going to want to see a speechless Atsumu 😂

“Yn is this you?” He asks

You 👉🏻😐 who else would it be?

“Baby, seriously? Fuck are these even real?? This is an illusion, pinch me I’m dreaming,” he says

Say less, you run and pinch him take every chance you get Yn!

“Ouch! Well shit, I guess I’m not dreaming! Babe, fuck you look incredible!” He says, drooling on page after page of your gorgeous figure

“You like them?” You say, all giddy

“Are ya kidding me? Can we make canvas prints of these? I we need one over our bed and over the fireplace, hell we need one in every room!” He says taking out his phone and taking pictures

“Babe, what are you doing?” You ask as he carefully turns the pages

“Taking photos for a slideshow! No way I’m traveling with this piece of artwork!” He says as you laugh, kissing your husband

Kiyoomi Sakusa

The man who does not expect it at all

His sweet, innocent wife doing such a grand gesture for him??

It took a lot of courage for you to do these and you were looking forward to sharing them with your husband

You’d always been proud of the way you looked and so was Kiyoomi

He loved you so much and practically worshipped you

On your anniversary, you decided to surprise him with the photos

You’d been married for a year now and he had been traveling a lot for the Jackals

You missed him and wanted to give him something incredibly special 🥰

“YN, what the heck? This box is huge!” He said, grabbing it from you as you sat next to him and smiled

“I wanted to give you something special Omi, something nobody else in the world has!” You smiled

“Damn, something nobody else has?” He said, unwrapping the box and taking out the book

He unties the ribbon and slowly opens to the first page

A hand written note says “To the love of my life, Happy Anniversary! Love YN”

“Awe babe, you didn’t-” he says before immediately stopping, his breath hitching at the sight of the first photo

“He looks at the photo, then at you, then back to the photo

Then he turns the page to look at another photo before setting the album down in front of him, wiping his hand down his face

“Kiyoomi, don’t you like them?” You asked as his shocked eyes meet yours

“YN, liking them isn’t the problem. I need to prepare myself to look at such beauty,” he says as you giggle

He picks up the book and carefully looks at every page, groaning when he sees a particular picture he likes

He carefully sets the book down, picking up his phone and opening his texting app

“What are you doing Omi?” You ask

“Texting captain that I won’t be in tomorrow, because there’s no way I can be expected to practice with those images plastered in my mind.”

Kotaro Bokuto

Hype husband for life

Literally this man gets so excited the minute he sees you

He’s the idiot that’s frantically waving to you in the crowd screaming “THATS MY WIFE!”

Literally he’s so in love with you YN 🥹

So when you gift him boudoir pictures

Oh lawd YN watch yourself 😂

Literally this man will just sit and watch you undress, eyes glimmering

How do you think he will react?

“A present for me?” Your husband screeches as you giggle and hand it to him

He immediately rips it open, zero chill ✋🏻

“Ko calm down its delicate!” You say as he looks at you

“You got me something delicate? YN didn’t Akaashi say never to get me anything that could break?” He says as you laugh

“Not that kind of delicate Ko, just open it slowly,” you say as your husband nods and carefully opens the book

“Ohh I love books Yn!” He says opening the book wide, his eyes landing on a stunning picture of you holding a sheet over your nude body

He quickly slammed the books shut, gulping loudly as sweat forms on his brows

“YN uhh- did you know you’re naked in these photos?” He says as you laugh

“Yes Ko, I took boudoir photos just for you!” You say

“For me?” He beams as he opens the book again and studies every single page

“Baby, you are so pretty! I can’t believe how beautiful you are!” He says as you gush at how adorable he is

“Awe I’m glad you like them Ko!” You say, squeezing his bicep

“I like them a lot, actually so much that I uh-kind of have a problem now,” he says as you see the very prominent issue appearing his his grey sweatpants

“Come on silly, let me help you with that!”

Adriah Tomas

Another man who just worships his wife

He’s like SIX FOOT SEVEN INCHES tall Yn 🥵

Ugh he’s such an attentive and supportive husband

Literally going out of his way to help you with whatever you need

He works hard at practice then comes home and helps in whatever way he can

We love all the support!

So much so that you decided it was time to give him something special in return!

Adriah is the type of man to never ask for anything

He’s so hard to buy gifts for because like he never tells you he wants anything!

So for your 3 year anniversary, you decide to take matters into your own hands

By getting him a special gift, a gift only you can give him

Now unfortunately he was traveling for your anniversary so you couldn’t give him the gift in person

Instead you decided to send it to him 🙃

He had no idea it was coming, so when he got back to his hotel room, he opened it, smiling when he saw it was from his gorgeous wife

Immediately he opened the book, peering at the first picture and slamming the book closed

His eyes widen as he frantically searched for his phone, FaceTiming you as quickly as he could

“Hey babe!” You answered nonchalantly

“YN what he heck are you doing sending me this?” Adriah said in a whisper shout

“What you don’t like it?” You said, big puppy dog eyes on display

“Baby, I fucking love it but god, what if the guys had seen this!” He said quickly peeking at some of the other pictures in the book and groaning

“Well then they would know how hot your wife is,” you said shrugging

“Babe, nobody gets to see you like this except for me ok?” He said as you laughed

“Adriah I know! I just wanted you to have something special while you were on the road,” you said as he smiled back

“I love it baby, thank you but do you think you might have to sometime to umm, FaceTime for a while,” he said, blushing as you smirked

“Don’t worry hun, I’ll help take care of you.”

Shugo Meian

This man THIS MAN 😩

Ugh god YN you are one lucky lady let me tell you!

This man is such an all star husband

Seriously, he is incredible!

Literally so supportive and your #1 fan no matter what you do!

He travels a lot but he always makes time for you, whether it be sending a text or FaceTiming

He even sends gifts and flowers just to make sure you know he’s thinking of you

Your husband was coming back from a few weeks on the road and you decided to surprise him with a boudoir photo shoot for your anniversary

Oh but you didn’t stop there Yn, no you pictures you most favorite picture and made a whole full size canvas of that baby 😍

You hung it up, above your bed as a big surprise for your husband

You knew he’d be coming home so you “pretend”to be busy in your master bedroom so you’d get to see his reaction first hand

“Babe, where are you?” Your husband said, bag hitting the floor as he immediately searched for you

“I’m the bedroom love!” You shout as you heard the door open

“You didn’t greet me at the door- HOLY SHIT!” He said, stopping in his tracks as he peered at the giant canvas of your gorgeous figure above your marital bed

“Surprise!” You shout, your husbands mouth falling slack ad he just stares

“Shugo, hello? Earth to Shugo!” You said approaching him as you waved your hand in front of his face

“YN is that really you?” He asked as you laughed and nodded

He grabbed you close, eyes still locked on the portrait

“Fuck baby, you look incredible! That’s my gorgeous wife holy crap!” He said as you grabbed the rest of the photos on the bed and handed them to him

“Here’s the rest of the prints from the photo shoot,” you said as he flipped through the pages, drool practically falling from his open mouth

“Damn baby! Are you trying to push me to retire or what?” He said as you laughed and hugged him

“Nah just trying to give you a little incentive to keep coming home to me,” you said as he hugged and kissed you

“Baby that’s one thing you’ll never have to worry about.”

Alexandre Joffe

Our resident skyscraper

God what an incredible addition to MSBY

Kudos to the drafting team for that one and high fives to our queen for bagging this hot ass man 🥵

Literally he’s so in love with you Yn it’s kind of gross

Like I totes see him as one of those guys who just loves to relax and chill at home, watching movies or shows all day

Hes also one of those guys who will give you 500 kisses before leaving you to go on the road

He hates leaving for so long and you hate it too

So that’s why , for your first anniversary you decided to surprise him with a special something

A friend of yours had done boudoir photos for her husband and suggested them to you

You immediately booked an appointment and got the photos done

Alexandre was set to leave the next day so you decided to surprise him before he left

“Babe what’s this? Our anniversary isn’t for a few weeks yet,” he said slowly unwrapping the gift

“I know but you won’t be here for our anniversary and well, I wanted you to have it for on the road,” you said smiling

He smiled back, leaning over to kiss you as he opened the gift

“A photo album?” He questioned as you nodded

He looked confused but went with the flow anyways

Then he opened it and immediately his eyes shot open, hands planting on both sides of the kitchen counter as he leaned over to look at your gorgeous body

You watched as he studied the pictures for what seemed like hours

“So?” You asked, playing with your fingers nervously

“So I’m wondering how much of a fine I’ll get if I fly out in a few days vs tomorrow,” he said, quickly grabbing you and hoisting you over his shoulder

“Alexandre! What the hell?” You laughed as he hauled you to the bedroom, stopping as he turned around quickly grabbing the book

“Can’t forget this!” He said as he ran with you and the book to your bedroom

Oriver Barnes

This man is so chill, I adore him!

He just seems like the kind of guy to take life one day at a time

He’s also like 6’9” so like 🫡

Honestly I’m so sick of you Yn 😐

This man is such a sweet and loving husband

The kind who would literally lay down in a puddle of mud and let you walk over him in order to keep your feet dry

He’s always opening doors, holding your hand and kissing your forehead

A giant sweetheart!

He works so hard and you think he deserves a special something

You pondered for a while what you could possibly gift your sweet husband

You wanted something special and unique

That’s when the idea to do a boudoir shoot came to you

Your husband always told you he loved when you wore lingerie so why not give him pictures he could cherish forever

Especially one very special image of you, naked in his MSBY Jersey 👀

Oof he will simply die YN

In fact, you had the print made into a canvas for your bedroom

You came out of the room, giant canvas wrapped up and handed it to your husband

“YN what is this?” He said taking the large wrapped gift and laying it on the counter

“Just a little something,” you said as you husband took a bit of his food and opened his gift

His eyes widened as he began to choke on his food, coughing

“Babe are you ok?” You asked as your husband nodded quickly, eyes widening as he saw your form spread on the canvas

“Angel, fuck you look incredible in my jersey! Fuck look at you,” he said, gently caressing the canvas as he studied it

“You like it? I thought we could put it in our bedroom!” You said, smiling

“Are you kidding? Im carrying this everywhere I go Yn!” He said, hauling it under his arm and grabbing your hand as you giggled”

“Where are we going?” You laughed

“To get my jersey, I need to see Mrs. Barnes in it right now!”

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nocapesdahling · 2 years

Text

Call it Dreaming

Dream of the Endless x GN! Reader

My Masterlist

Summary: You’ve been stressed out lately and haven’t been sleeping as much as you should. Fortunately, Dream is here to make sure tonight is different.

Warnings/Tags: Soft!Dream of the Endless; He’s very soft; Fluff; Comfort; Tired and Stressed! Reader; Established relationship; Hints of Dom!Dream; Implied sexual content; Dream’s eyeliner

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: To preface, I haven’t read the comics yet though I’m looking forward to it. I loved the show and really wanted to write some fluff with a soft Dream, so here we are. Hope you enjoy!

You’d had a long and stressful week, filled with inescapable deadlines, overtime, and sleepless nights. All you wanted to do when you got home that Friday evening was throw on some comfortable clothes and sleep.

You might finally get to see your absent lover, whose time had been taken up by his duties, in your dreams. It was an added bonus because while others’ busy partners might work long hours with little to no time to see them, your nights — your dreams — were filled with both passion and comfort. The limitations of the waking world didn’t apply to dreams, especially not to your Dream.

You opened your door with a sigh of relief and placed your bags in an out of the way corner. There would be no thinking about work this weekend, and you hoped that the saying would hold true – that out of sight would translate to out of mind. The last thing you needed was to dream about work. Not that Morpheus would allow that anyway.

You were just finishing your dinner when you heard a telltale “Caw”, which was followed by a knock on the door and then a second in quick succession. You smiled to yourself. There was only one person it could be. Well, being might be a more apt term in this case. After Morpheus had scared you by appearing suddenly in your bedroom too many times, you’d insisted he knock and he’d begun knocking twice in a specific rhythm to ensure you knew it was him.

Flashback:

“It makes me feel like I have a gentleman caller, you know?” Your voice was teasing in the hopes you could bring one of his small rare smiles, which flickered and warmed you like candlelight, out. Maybe even with teeth this time. You’d only seen that one a couple of times and you wanted to see more of it. More importantly, you wanted to see Morpheus – this improbable and unfathomable being that you’d somehow fallen in love with – happy. And he did smile though it was more of a mischievous smirk, his expression playful.

“I wouldn’t expect to see much of a gentleman tonight. Not with my plans for you, beloved.” His voice had deepened even more than usual, and you could feel it lingering in your ears and resonating down to your bones. As you pulled him into a kiss, there was no more talk of gentlemen callers that evening. In fact, there was no more talking at all.

But ever since, Morpheus had knocked to announce his presence without fail.

End Flashback

You smiled at yourself in the mirror to make sure there was nothing in your teeth before opening the door. “Hello, love. No Matthew tonight?”

At your gesture, he stepped inside and his velvety soft coat brushed against your legs – the stars swirled along the inside and looked for a moment as though their ever changing galaxy would transfer to you.

“He’s keeping watch.” Dream turned away from surveying the room, to see if there was anything new you supposed, and cupped your cheek. His hands were soothing in their coolness and his deep blue eyes, which were accentuated quite nicely by the eyeliner you’d bought him, were filled with concern as he surveyed your face. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

You closed the door and moved to sit on the couch, prolonging the time till you would have to answer. Your voice when you spoke was quiet, “I have been.”

Dream followed you to the couch and clasped your hand in his. “Not enough. Not nearly enough. My realm has suffered in your absence. It has been raining for days, and yesterday we had one of our first involuntary thunderstorms,” he paused, “I have suffered in your absence.” Dream looked away for a moment, uncomfortable with that display of emotion, and moved his thumb over your hand.

You thought he was overreacting a bit, but how could you say that to one of the Endless?

Instead, you countered with, “It was only a few days of less sleep, Morpheus. That’s all.” You may have been fudging it a bit and it might have been more like a week or so, but you didn’t want him to worry. You should have known better.

He shifted closer and squeezed your hand before placing it on his thigh. “That’s all, hmm? You wouldn’t be lying about your sleep to the King of Dreams, would you beloved?” When you didn’t respond, looking down at the floor, he continued, “It has been over a week since you have had sufficient hours of REM sleep as the humans call it, and that is too long. It’s not healthy. Humans need the Dreaming. You need the Dreaming.” He paused for a moment and you looked up to meet his imploring eyes. Morpheus leaned in and pressed a light kiss to your forehead and when he spoke again, his voice was soft, “And the Dreaming… and its King need you.”

You breathed in audibly and stifled a sob. You were so tired.

He pulled you into a hug and as you rested your head on his chest, his slow and steady heartbeat calmed you. He was here now and everything would be alright.

“I’m sorry, love. It wasn’t a good week and I was too stressed to sleep most nights. I missed you.”

He pressed another kiss to the top of your head and caressed his hand up and down your back. When he spoke, with your ear pressed against his chest his voice reminded you of the best nights of sleep you’d ever had as it resonated through your body. “I missed you too, beloved.”

“I’m so tired, Morpheus.”

“I know, I’m here. May I carry you?”

“Of course. Thank you, love.”

“It’s always a pleasure to care for you, my beloved.”

He shifted you to stand then leaned over to wind his hands under your knees and picked you up with your head leaning against his chest. The journey to your bedroom took no time at all. Dream placed you on your bed and began taking the pillows off, unmaking it just the way you liked. He closed the curtains and pulled off his boots as you watched him through half lidded eyes. He sent you a glimpse of a fond smile before settling onto the bed, coat and all, and patting your pillow next to him.

“Come up here, beloved. If you’d like, then I can read you to sleep.”

You sighed before beginning to inch your way up the bed, taking care to emulate a worm as closely as possible. His small flame of a smile flickered into being again, showing his amusement at your antics. You’d almost reached your pillow before sitting up with abruptness at your sudden realization.

“I can’t go to sleep yet. I haven’t brushed my teeth or washed my face.” You pushed yourself out of bed with a groan and moved to the bathroom. “Give me five minutes, and I’m all yours.”

You almost didn’t hear his response as quiet as it was. “You are always mine. As I am always yours.”

You smiled and watched your eyes crinkle with happiness in the mirror. He was so wonderful. Like something out of a dream. That thought made you laugh out loud at both its cheesiness and its accuracy.

“What’s so funny, beloved? Your toothbrush perhaps?”

“No, I had a silly thought is all. So my Dream, was this how you thought tonight would go?”

“In what way?”

“You’re wearing eyeliner. The eyeliner. You know what that does to me, and it makes me think you had very different plans for tonight.”

“Plans change. My priority when we are together is always you and your wellbeing. I will wear my eyeliner another night. Just for you, beloved.”

“You bet you will.” You finished your routine and moved back to your bed, glad to see that Morpheus hadn’t moved. He looked content, waiting there with his back resting against your headboard. You pulled the covers down and then back up again as you settled into bed facing him. You placed your hand in his and smiled up at him. “I think I’m too tired for you to read to me tonight, Morpheus, but I have a book of poetry ready for next time.”

His voice when he spoke was soothing, “I look forward to it. Sleep now, beloved.”

“And Dream a little Dream of you?”

“Exactly, may you have ‘sleep that relieves you and heals you. Sleep that soothes away all your worries.’”

“I didn’t know you knew Shakespeare.”

“Oh yes, I must tell you that story sometime.”

Wait, did that mean he actually knew Shakespeare? As in knew him? It was moments like these that reminded you that while he may look human, he wasn’t. It was easy to forget sometimes that your lover was an Endless, but when he said things like that or when you saw swirling galaxies in the gleam of his eyes you remembered.

“Sleep now, and I will meet you in your dreams.” Dream’s voice was hypnotic and had a soporific effect on you. You closed your eyes and within moments fell into the dark ocean of oblivion before opening them to somewhere else.

All you could see was green — a beautiful verdant green, filled with plants and flowers. You dug your toes into the earth and watched a butterfly land on your hand. You’d missed this place. Fiddler’s Green was one of your favorite places in the Dreaming.

You didn’t see Dream yet, so you made your way along the path towards the falls. Between one blink and the next, Morpheus’s hand was in yours as he walked alongside you.

“Is it a good dream, beloved?”

Your voice when you answered was teasing,“You know it is, King of Dreams, but better now that you’re here.” You sat by the edge of the azure lake and breathed in the refreshing mist of the cascading water as you patted the spot next to you. Morpheus settled alongside you and stretched his legs out, boots and all, towards the water. “Didn’t you take those off?”

The look he gave you made you smile. It was the, This is my Domain and I will wear boots if I want to, look. You shook your head and then laid down with your head in his lap. It was so peaceful here that the outside world felt like nothing more than a distant memory, a far off dream. Morpheus looked relaxed and some of the cares had fallen away from his face as he gazed at the falls with his hand resting on top of yours.

You didn’t know how much time had passed in that intimate and comfortable silence. It could have been hours or minutes before you spoke, “As much as I wish I could lay here with you forever, don’t you have duties?”

He hummed. “I do. I always do, but Lucienne is more than capable of taking them tonight. You are my priority.”

He looked down at you and ‘his eyes gleamed like twin stars in the sky’ — the love and devotion within them endless.

You smiled up at him, your Dream, and hoped your corresponding love shined back. You pushed yourself into a seated position and gently claimed his lips in a kiss that grew into one of greater passion and intensity. The moan you let out – as he deepened the kiss and laid you down on the blanket that had appeared in an instant — was involuntary. You reached up to run your fingers through his hair, which he leaned into for a moment before holding your wrists in a gentle grasp and moving them over your head.

“Do not forget whose realm this is, beloved.”

There was no chance of that happening, especially as both of your clothes disappeared with a thought from Morpheus.

You gasped as he left your hands where they were and made his way down your body. As he looked up at you through his eyelashes with a small glimpse of a smile, you felt like you could fall into the gleaming blue ocean of his eyes. It looked like the eyeliner had served its purpose after all.

As you lost yourself in your Dream, knowing that tomorrow you’d wake up refreshed and revitalized, you were so happy you’d found love in and with Morpheus.

While you may not always see him in the waking world, you knew he would always find you in the Dreaming. The main caveat was you had to remember to sleep first. Then again, Dream was doing a good job at the moment of convincing you to never skip out on sleep again.

Reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated. Thanks so much for reading!

A/N: This is the first fic I’ve posted in ages and the first of what may be more Morpheus fics, so I hope you all liked it and please let me know if you did!

I love the idea of Dream’s moods affecting the weather in the Dreaming. Dream’s paraphrased quote about sleep is from Macbeth. The quote about Morpheus’s eyes “gleaming like twin stars in the sky” is from the comics.

This was partially inspired by Morpheus’s episode of the Dreamcast, which if you haven’t listened to yet I highly recommend it.

My Masterlist

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