#there's even fuckable space bats!

[thegreatyin]

what I have gathered from your fallen london posting is

There’s a fucked up ocean in this fucked up city underground? (Idk if it’s underground or in like an underworld)

Orphan murder is a common occurrence?

y'know technically there's a bit more going on but you aren't wrong

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Old Money, Bratty Honey

pairing: bodyguard!Wonwoo x heiress!reader x bodyguard!Vernon

genre: smut - minors dni.

warnings: car sex (a limo specifically), public sex (the windows are tinted but still), mean dom!wonwoo, switch!vernon, brat!reader, sir kink, edging, hair pulling, blowjobs, facefucking, degradation, masturbation, voyeurism, cum swallowing, reader is rich and spoiled (yk how the rest goes)

requested by @onlymingyus

word count: 1.7k

summary: being born in money gives you the chance to try pretty much everything in the world - that includes fucking your two hot bodyguards in your dad's limousine.

Author's note: hello <3 this fic was requested by beloved mars - the unesco forum pics did a LOT of damage

tagging: @gyuwoncheol @wonwussy bcs they asked to suffer so here we are

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“Do you remember your speech?”

“Tch, of course I do.” You roll your eyes. “I wrote it myself, remember?”

“I know you did. Just wanted to check whether your brain cells are still active.” Wonwoo smirks.

“Unlucky for you, they are very much intact and in better shape than yours.” You bite back.

“Is there any time of any day where the two of you don’t argue?” Vernon groans from behind you. “Can we just…enjoy the little time we have left until we arrive at the venue?”

“Mmm, of course we can, Nonie.” You turn your attention to your other bodyguard. “He’s never fun, either way. But you are way more fun, right?” You make yourself comfortable in his lap, your manicured hands smoothing over his chest.

“Anything for you, honey. You know me.” Vernon smirks and leans in the crevice of your neck, lips and tongue gliding over your skin.

Wonwoo sighs in defeat and averts his eyes from the unfolding scene, trying to ignore it. 

If it wasn’t for the hefty salary that gets deposited every month in his bank account, he wouldn’t even be here. He would rather be walking at a dingy bar, rather than have to babysit a rich brat like you. 

And the worst thing of all? You’re smart and hot as fuck - to the point where he wants to stuff your mouth full of his dick and make you cry.

You’re aware of how uptight and cold Wonwoo is towards you and you can’t really blame him for his attitude - being head of security under your dad basically requires that attitude. Which makes messing around with him even more fun for you.

Vernon, on the other hand, is your assigned personal bodyguard and would fold in half for you, if you asked him to. One bat of your eyelashes is enough to make him cave to any request of yours, thus giving you the perfect cover for your night escapades.

But of course, he always gets rewarded for his secrecy and faith to you - in the form of letting him fuck you dumb more than often.

This is one of the occasions where you want to mess around with both of them at the same time.

You throw the fabric of your gown backwards to uncover your legs and give yourself enough space to grind your clothed pussy over Vernon’s slacks. 

“Careful with your gown, honey.” He reminds you.

“It’s just fabric, I could have tens of that.” You grin towards him.

“How rich and bratty, coming from you.” Wonwoo comments with a venomous tone.

“Yeah, that’s because I am rich, bratty, pretty and smart and you want to fuck me so bad.” You reply boldly.

He slides next to Vernon and grips your jaw with his right hand, keeping it steady directly in front of his face.

“You’re right, little bitch. I want to fuck the brat out of you, to the point you’re crying and begging me to stop.” His voice feels deeper and colder than the ocean, his eyes burning holes in your skull through his horn-rimmed glasses.

You almost hate how hot and fuckable Wonwoo looks today - but you’ve always wanted to know what’s hidden under his professional attire.

“I would like to see you try, you fucking nerd. I bet you’re still a virgin-”

He cuts you off by dragging you off Vernon’s lap and pushes you down on your knees, between his thighs.

“Dude, what the hell!” Vernon glares at the older man.

“Shut the fuck up, Vernon. You have gotten plenty of time with her since you got your job. Now sit back and watch.” Wonwoo orders him as he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring free.

Your eyes widen at the size and it makes your mouth fill with saliva and your pussy dampens your Victoria’s Secret panties.

“Tell me, Vernon - Does the pretty brat over here like to suck dick?” Wonwoo asks with a dangerous glint in his eyes as he runs his fist over his shaft.

“Y-Yeah, she does.” The younger man stutters.

“Does she swallow?”

“Yes, she does.”

“Yes what, Vernon?”

“Yes s-sir.”

“Hm, at least one of you can behave.” Wonwoo turns his attention to you again.

“Enjoying the power trip, Wonwoo?” You place your hands over his thighs, rubbing them up and down.

“It’s Sir for you, little brat.” He puts his hand behind your neck and brings your face close enough to let his cock slap against your cheek. “Now put your smartass mouth to good use, will you?”

“And what if I don’t want to?” You rile him up even more.

Wonwoo threads his hands in the back of your hair and forcefully slides his cock in your mouth. You gag when the tip hits your throat, but you manage to suppress your reflex with ease.

“Fuck, honey…” Vernon curses under his breath and starts palming himself over his pants.

“No need to be jealous, Vernon - I’m sure you have experienced this already, right?” Wonwoo chuckles as he uses your hair as leverage to fuck your face.

“I could get used to this, Y/N - this cock-stuffed version of yours is quite likable.”

You grunt in response and purposefully drag your teeth over his cock, eliciting a hiss from him. He drags you off his cock and pulls you upwards, forcing your back to arch.

“Do that one more time and your daddy will find out his precious daughter is a fucking slut.” He threatens you.

“You don’t want to do this, Sir.” You slur the title on purpose. “You’ll be at loss in the end, especially after fucking me like you wanted to,” you grip his wrist, “So, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and I’ll let you fuck me stupid. How does that sound?” You grin.

“Little bitch.” Wonwoo scoffs and puts your mouth back on his cock.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look so damn pretty.” Vernon moans on the side, his own pants long unbuttoned, hand stroking his pre-cum coated dick. 

Your eyes flit to the younger man and you send him a wink, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo.

“Eyes on me, brat. And you,” he snaps his head towards Vernon, “You better not fucking cum until I say so.”

“S-Sir, I won’t-”

“Don’t. Fucking. Cum.” He repeats with something akin to a growl.

“Fuck, I won’t!” Vernon whines in defeat, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his hand slowing down to keep himself on edge.

You moan around Wonwoo’s cock, nails digging in the fabric of his pants as you hollow your cheeks and do your best to bring him closer to his orgasm.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum- You better swallow every last drop like you do with him, princess.” 

You bat your eyelashes to let him know you’re ready and he presses your head until you’ve taken him till the base. You can feel the saltiness of his cum coursing down your throat. You pin your eyes on Wonwoo and stare at him until you’ve sucked his cock clean, swallowing till the last drop.

He retracts his hand and lets you get off his lap, whispering a few words in your ear, low enough to not be heard by anyone else.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but I really need to fucking cum and I don’t want to bust my nut all over the suit.” Vernon half moans, hand gripping his cock tight.

You move between his legs with a sultry smile and engulf his cock with your mouth. It only takes him a few harsh sucking motions of your lips to make him cum, a string of heavy breaths and moans coming out of his mouth.

You release his shaft with an obscene popping sound, opening your mouth to show him the amount of cum in it. You swallow it in one gulp, licking your lips clean.

“Filthy little slut.” Wonwoo clicks his tongue as he tucks himself back in.

“Couldn’t agree more.” Vernon clears his throat and tidies himself as well.

“That was definitely fun,” you sit back on the leather seats and open your purse to take out a pack of wet wipes and clean your hands. A small hair brush follows right after and you fix your hair, as if they were never touched in the first place.

“How is your makeup still intact?” Vernon asks you with narrowed eyes.

“Ever heard of waterproof makeup?” You side eye him.

“As long as Daddy is paying, everything must be on point for his pretty little heiress.” Wonwoo comments. “We’re here, be ready.”

“No need to remind me of my job, Wonwoo.”

As soon as he opens the door of the limousine to help you out, you’re welcomed with countless flashing cameras and microphones shoved in your way, but Vernon rushes next to your side to keep them at a safe distance. 

You put on your finest smile for the cameras, knowing which way to turn your head so the gossip magazines will have only your best shots. 

The noises of the crowd are drowned out once the three of you enter the venue of the gala and your bodyguards double check that everything is okay and you can proceed.

“How ironic to see the two of you being so professional while you were cumming like highschool boys just a few minutes ago.” You giggle.

“How ironic to see you acting like a proper lady after sucking off your security entourage in your daddy’s limousine like a cheap whore.” Wonwoo smirks and you fight back the urge to hit his head with your purse, as you walk over to the table with your assigned seat.

“You didn’t have to be so sassy about it.” Vernon covers his mouth to hide his grin.

“And you should have been more discreet with your visits in her room.” Wonwoo almost snaps at him with a stern look on his face.

“You’re not actually gonna snitch, are you?” The younger man looks at him partially horrified.

Wonwoo’s lips curl in a dirty smirk and he leans into Vernon’s ear.

“As long as you’re willing to stand guard in front of her door all night long while I’m teaching the little brat some manners, then your dirty secret is safe with me.”

Vernon pokes his cheek with his tongue, wishing he was able to shove his fist in Wonwoo’s face.

“So? Are you willing to do that, Chwe?”

“.....Yes sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

[anisespice]

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 2

one || three || four

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list. 

pairing: various x gn!reader [ hinata, bokuto, kuroo ]

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, hinata’s is SUPER long lol mild objectification, bo and kuroo’s are criminally the shortest ones i’ve written so far ugh (but they get the point across), and I think that’s it :D

notes: first of all, can i just say THANK Y'ALL SO MUCH ♡♡♡ i did not expect that headcanon to blow up, so i will do my very best to make the following ones just as juicy and entertaining for y'all :))) special thanks to @melanatedkink for helping out with this, she helps bring out my inner whore lol hope you guys enjoy !!

notes ii: didn't want the situations to get too repetitive, so these may take me a little longer for the other characters i do in the future, but i appreciate the love and patience for the series thus far !!! you guys are awesome

tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy

HINATA knew all about the list. Being the social butterfly he was, it would be impossible for the topic not to come up in conversation, especially since a lot of his friends were on it. He found it interesting, to say the least, but never really took the whole thing too seriously. It was just for shits and giggles after all, right?

During a water break in the gym, Hinata aimed for his mouth while squeezing the bottle. Most made it inside, but the rest dripped down his chin. Thinking nothing of it, the spiker used the bottom of his jersey to wipe his face dry, be it water or sweat. And even though it was for a split second, it was more than enough time for the damage to be done to the hearts of those chilling up by the railing on the first level. Beneath the LEDs, in all their sinful glory, were Shoyo Hinata’s nipple piercings. 

The gates of heaven have opened, and the choir sings a hymn. But, along came Satan, as he rubbed his seedy hands together in mischief. The groupies were shellshocked and knew they must alert the masses, eyeing their prey all the way until the end of practice. This caught the attention of a certain blonde setter, who brought it to Hinata’s attention right off the bat as they cleaned up the court.

“Oi. Don’t wanna alarm ya or anythin’, but…those spectators up there been eye-ballin’ you for quite a while. Could be trouble.”

The tangerine gave a confused grin, looking over his shoulder in their direction. Sure enough, their eyes never wavered, not even after being caught. However, he merely shrugged it off. “It’s probably nothing.”

Atsumu hummed, skeptically. Though, he didn’t push it any further.

Once they were dismissed and sent to the showers, by the time Hinata was done he'd be the only one left in the locker room. He had to take his time and be extra careful not to bump his piercings, still kinda sensitive. Kageyama offered to stay behind so they could walk back together, "HINATA-BOKE, HURRY UP BEFORE I LEAVE YOUR SLOW ASS IN HERE."

But, Hinata politely declined. "SUCK A DICK, BAKAYAMA. I'm going over [_____]'s tonight, so go on ahead!"

With a nod, the stoic setter took his leave. "Cool. Tell 'em I said hey. See you tomorrow."

"See ya tomorrow!"

And then, all was quiet.

The only sounds filling the space were the running water, his humming, and the flickering overhead lights. When he stepped out with a towel wrapped snuggly around his waist, Hinata heard the sound of his phone ringing in his bag. His tired expression soon melted into joy at the cheesy love song he used as your ringtone.

Pressing the answer button, Hinata greeted you with his face all in the camera, and a bright, "Hi, [_____]!!~ You here already?"

Your eyes were on the road but you grinned, adoringly. "Hi, Sho. And, no, almost there though. I stopped by the canteen to grab some dinner. Know how hungry you get after practice."

"Mmm, starved. You're an angel, angel."

Staying on the call as he changed, the two of you conversed about each other's day as normal. However, when the topic of those groupies eventually came up, it instantly made you tense. Even though most of his fans were harmless, there were still a few rotten apples in the bunch that made you wary. "God, don’t tell me they asked you to spike their ass like a ball again."

Hinata snorted, throwing on a clean shirt, "That wasn't me, remember? That was Sakusa-san. Never seen him look so horrified." You laughed, having recalled. "But, according to 'tsumu-san, they hardly took their eyes off me tonight.”

“That’s old news, babe. Those vultures are always watching you.”

“Not always-”

"ALWAYS." You affirmed, pulling up to the building. Parking outside the doors, you teasingly said, "We can continue talking about how wrong you are in the car, I’m outside. And hurry, the food's gonna get cold."

"Yes, boss," he chuckled, gathering up his things. Throwing the duffle over his shoulder, Hinata made haste for the lobby, making sure to turn the lights off behind him. “See you in a minute, sunshine.~”

With that he hung up, walking with a spring in his step. He had a surprise for you, and couldn’t wait to finally show them off later. Now that the piercings had healed enough, Hinata couldn’t fight the obscene images clouding his mind of all the things you’d do once you saw them. It made him dizzy just thinking about it…

Unfortunately, someone would beat him to the punch. Or, more specifically, something.

‘Shoyo Hinata. 5’6ft sweetheart, and a ball of energy who’ll light up any room he walks into. He may look all innocent, but clearly, we’ve been underestimating him. Kinda has everyone wondering what other piercings he may be hiding…and where.~ What he may lack in height, he makes up for in girth. Expect to go for several rounds back to back, ‘cause he’s got STAMINA. This man will also be very vocal—Talk you through an orgasm, how good you make him feel, dirty-talk, begging, you name it—He is BIG on communication. He's also a cuddler, after-care will be disgustingly sweet, and pillow talk will be a must. 100/10.’

Wow. You suspected those parasites were up to no good, but never would’ve expected this. The picture attached to the thread was of your boyfriend, mid-air from blocking a ball, with his arms straight up. As he was coming down, his shirt was coming up, exposing his whole torso. It was a little blurry, but whoever took the photo zoomed in enough to where you could easily make out the silver on his nipples.

You pursed your lips, uncertain on how to feel. On one hand, you were kinda annoyed they, let alone the whole campus, got to see them before you even knew about them. But, on the horny hand…

“Hey, gorgeous!” Hinata exclaimed, startling you out of your thoughts. He had opened the back door, and threw his bag on the seat before eagerly joining you in the front. Leaning across the console to give you a kiss, he was taken aback when you stopped him, placing a finger on his lips. “Mmm?”

You gave him a blank look, making him a little nervous. He was just on the phone with you and things were totally fine, what could’ve possibly changed in the five minutes it took him to get to the car? Hinata didn’t have to ponder for long, though. Not when you used that very same finger to hook around his collar, yanking it downward. He yelped, pulling away in the last second, but his reflexes couldn’t save him this time.

You confirmed it with your own eyes now.

“I uh—…T-Those are…,” he spluttered, scratching his cheek. You happily watched him squirm, arms crossed with a knowing grin on your face. Hinata sweat-dropped. “I-I was gonna t-tell you, I swear, but I wanted them to heal a little before I did, so that you could…”

“Could what, Sho?”

His face was pure vermilion. With a huff, Hinata whined, “How’d you even find out? I had a whole thing planned and everything! Was it Bakayama? Did he tell you?? Dammit, I knew I should’ve asked someone else to come with me to the appointment!”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t Kageyama. I told you so, those vultures are always watching.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll tell you later. For now,” you reached over again, this time with both hands as lithe fingertips slid underneath the thin cotton of his shirt, trailing up the smooth skin until you brushed against the perked nubs. Hinata twitched, immediately biting back a moan as you began teasing them at once. If he got any redder, he’d surely pass out from all the blood rushing to his head. Luckily, it was also rushing elsewhere. “Let’s hurry and get you back to mine’s, hm?"

"...S-So I uhn," he keened when you lightly tugged on one, hand reflexively grabbing your wrist, but not to stop you. His eyes fluttered as he let you feel him up as much as you pleased, mouth hung open as he began panting like a dog. "...I take it y-you like them, then?"

"Oh, baby, I love 'em. Best investment ever, honestly. Can't wait to put them in my mouth," you sighed dreamily, gently pinching to elicit a moan from the ginger. Music to your ears. From the look on his face, he could probably cum from this feeling alone. You pulled away at the thought, smirking as he instantly began protesting.

"Aht, not so fast, we still gotta eat. But, don't worry. You'll get your dessert."

Homie nodded so quick, you were sure he gave himself whiplash. Adorable.

By the end of a very long night full of debauchery, you eventually told him about the list and how exactly you found out about the piercings. And you know what? He couldn’t even be mad. At least it wasn't Kageyama.

“Oh! He says ‘hey’ by the way.”

Now, BOKUTO thought he knew about the list. But after the whole…misunderstanding with Akaashi, it turned out he knew absolutely nothing. Granted, how he felt about it didn’t really change after his friends spent over an hour explaining it to him. If anything, it fueled his distaste for it even more. When he showed up on your doorstep looking absolutely distraught, fat tears rolling down his face as he proclaimed his unwavering devotion to you, you only needed one guess. 

‘Kotaro Bokuto. 6’2ft of GAWD DAMN. He's sweet, confident, and R E S P E C T F U L?? We love a triple threat. Not to mention how MASSIVE he is, and don’t even get me started on his ass. Would literally be unable to keep my hands to myself, just saying. Like how you see him dominate the volleyball court, the same could be said for the bedroom, without a doubt. Bokuto loves to give, but he’s also a taker. Definitely gives off Switch with service Dom tendencies. Plus he’s greedy. He doesn’t care if you already came four times, give him some more!!! ∞/10. He is beyond the standard. Argue with the wall.’ 

You remembered reading it while taking a break from studying, merely brushing it off. It was only a matter of time he’d end up on their radar, you had prepared for it since the list first started circulating around campus. Frankly, you had completely forgotten about it; up until now. 

“Ko, baby, please calm down-”

“I don’t care how many people wanna touch my ass! They can’t have it, it’s for you to touch and nobody else!” 

You quickly pulled him into your room before he screamed any more embarrassing stuff in the hallway, knowing your neighbors probably recognized his voice by now. The last thing you wanted was another noise complaint, your RA already despised his visits enough to consider banning him altogether–Whether or not they had the authority, you’d rather not find out today. 

Once behind the safety of a closed door, the behemoth of a man came crashing down to his knees, arms circling around your midriff as he buried himself in your stomach. You jumped slightly as your room shook from the sudden action, deeply exhaling in order to reconfigure your thinning patience. Taking a page from Akaashi’s book, you knew getting snippy with Bokuto while he was in this state would only worsen it, so you approached cautiously. 

“Ko,” you cooed, reaching down to caress his deflated hair. He sniffled, hugging you closer in response. Gently, you pushed him far enough to see his face, wiping away the tears as you offered him a soft smile. “Look at me, do I look upset to you?”

Bokuto took a moment to search your eyes, then shook his head.

“Exactly. Which means you don’t need to be, you’ve done nothing wrong. Now stand up, I’m sure that drop hurt your knees, didn’t it?” 

He sniffled once more, then nodded. Slightly embarrassed, Bokuto stumbled back up to his full height, and sure enough, his knees were red. You tsked, gesturing to your desk chair for him to sit on while you fetched an ice pack from your fridge. 

“Although I appreciate the reassurance, I already knew you were on the list, babe.” 

Bokuto’s head shot up from looking at the floor, mood instantly doing a one-eighty as he gaped at you in shock. “HUH? Why didn’t you say anything to me about it?”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you replied, chuckling. “It’s been up for weeks. I figured you saw it and just ignored it, or something. Besides, I’ve gotten used to people openly expressing their attraction to you, so it wasn’t anything new.” 

“You shouldn’t have to get used to it! People need to respect our relationship, no matter how fantastic I am!” 

You snorted, but couldn’t help the chuckle. Returning with an ice pack, you kneeled by his legs and placed the cooling relief upon the irritated skin. “Mm, you are pretty fantastic. But, I don’t mind the attention you get, Ko. Because I know I’m the lucky one who gets you all to myself.” 

Bokuto beamed down at you, lower lip quivering at the praise. 

Effortlessly, he swooped you up from the floor and held you in his lap, the ice pack long forgotten as it slipped out your hands. With a loving squeeze, Bokuto nuzzled into the side of your neck, forcing soft giggles out of you from the ticklish feeling as you hugged him back. You felt so warm in his embrace, and he smelled like home. Even if you’d never say such corny things out loud, the way you melted in his arms was enough for him to know exactly how you felt; it was mutual.

"Plus, you can get a bit intense. They wouldn't last the night."

"Hey, hey, hey, you got that right," Bokuto grinned, smugly. "No one could ever handle me as well as you do, baby owl..." he purred, warm breath fanning over the skin of your shoulder, signaling goosebumps up your arms. You hummed in thought, snuggling in closer, whilst also not-so-accidentally grinding back against the flag pole in his sweats. He grunted, hips jerking upward in surprise.

"Hm, I dunno. It's been a while, I may have forgotten how."

Bokuto chuckled at the tease, the vibrations deep within his chest as he squeezed you a little tighter. You bit your lip to hold in your giddiness as his large hands began to wander, feeling a different kind of warmth as he began to overwhelm your senses. Trailing wet kisses from your shoulder to the side of your face, he playfully nipped at your cheek, eliciting a tiny squeal from you as you wiggled in his hold. And doing so only made you grind back on him even more.

His breathing grew heavier with each passing second, letting out a guttural groan before he flipped you around, making you straddle him. To anyone else, experiencing his sudden mood changes would've given them whiplash. Just moments prior, he'd been on his knees, crying with his head buried in your stomach like it was the end of the world. Now, he looked about five seconds from being on his knees for a different reason. For you, it was just another Wednesday.

"That so? How 'bout I remind you then?"

KUROO thought the list was the most hilarious thing to ever occur on campus, hands down one of his go-to's for entertainment when he’s bored. 

Like right now. 

The lecture dragged on for what felt like forever, the professor mumbling about absolutely nothing of value as everyone in the class busied themselves with whatever would keep them awake. Some played games on their laptops pretending to take notes, while others blatantly chatted with their deskmates.

With an airpod in, Kuroo had you on facetime in the corner of his screen so that you could keep each other company while he scrolled through social media, and you put away dishes. You tried to convince him to leave the class early, "Clearly you aren't paying attention, so you might as well."

"Unfortunately, he only counts attendance if you sign your name on the exit sheet at the very end of the lecture. So leaving early's out of the question." He muttered. You hummed in understanding, then chortled.

"Oh. Sucks to be you, then."

Kuroo glared half-heartedly at you, but it completely softened at the sound of your laughter, despite it being at his expense. He kissed his teeth after checking the time, mildly annoyed that he still had less than ten minutes. “Why’d you even take the course if you couldn’t care less about it?”

“I needed another elective. And…Kenma was the one who recommended it. Said it’d be an easy pass.”

“And you believed him?” Cue another round of your laughter.

He grumbled, off-screen for you but clearly pouting as he chose to ignore your question. No matter, his silence was answer enough.

With a mere shake of your head, you continued putting away dishes on your end. Kuroo, on the other hand, found himself stumbling upon something that perked him up instantly. After refreshing the feed for more mindless content, the user-handle he knew all too well showed itself like a beacon of hope, beckoning him with the promise of filling the next ten minutes with something way more interesting than…whatever this class was about.

@/FckIt22.

After the last fiasco with Bokuto, then later on Kenma, the ravenette contemplated blocking them. As golden as those situations were, something told him that deep down he could be next. But, it was days like this he was glad he didn’t. His boredom was becoming unbearable…and it was so tempting. What harm could it do to look at this one little upda—“HAH?!”

‘Tetsurou Kuroo. 6’2ft gentleman that you’d proudly take home to mom, and even get your father’s approval. With his charm and roguish good looks, it's no wonder his reputation screams 'playboy'. But, he can’t fool me. I know what he is. A whole SUB, no sandwich. I’m sure being as tall as he is, and how he carries himself, people automatically assume he’s a Dom. False. If you’re looking to be dominated, keep looking. Kuroo wants to be babied, told he’s a good boy, and edged until he nearly passes out. Definitely a little brat, but his hair defies gravity for a reason, PULL ON IT. Boss him around, take control, and watch him literally melt in your hands. 8/10 because he's also a stubborn mofo. Literally would pay to see this man cry from overstimulation ugh.’ 

Kuroo shot out of his seat, practically piercing right through the air of humdrum. He not only startled you, but the entire lecture hall including the professor. Comically slapping a hand over his mouth, Kuroo’s face immediately began to burn from not only his outburst but also at the fact that his karma came way sooner than he was prepared for...

He wanted nothing more than for the ceiling to collapse on him and him only.

“Tetsu?? Are you okay, what happened?? Hello??”

"U-Uh, I'll call you back." He squeaked, double-tapping his airpod to end the call.

The professor crossed his arms, "Mr. Tetsurou. I understand that my lecture may not be the most enjoyable part of your day, but I would appreciate it if you endured it for just," the professor checks his watch, "six more minutes. Is that alright with you?"

Before he could even open his mouth to give an excuse, a chorus of vibrations, dings, and whistles from various phones instantly made the business major shrivel up. Next thing he knew, what used to be a room full of the undead was now livelier than ever before. Kuroo could feel every single one of their searing gazes; like being an insect under a microscope.

"Bro, this you?" A student sitting behind him leaned forward, phone in hand as he shoved it in Kuroo's face. The picture stared back at him, smugly grinning and shirtless as he ironically thirst-trapped the camera. Out of all the pictures…

He internally cringed. "U-Uhh..."

"Please, everyone settle down, so we can continue-" The professor attempted to redirect focus, but he had already lost it way before all this happened. A few more students jumped straight into bombarding him with questions, eager to push for more info now that this supposed new side of him had been revealed.

“Whoa, how much of this is true??”

“Kuroo-san, I’ll happily baby you!~”

“Aw man, thought for sure you’d be the type to take control, not give it up. What a bummer. No offense.”

He absolutely took offense to that.

With no help from the professor, as he tried and failed to recollect everyone's attention, Kuroo thought of the next best course of action to get him out of this sticky situation. Jumping out a two-story window didn't sound so bad, and the broken bones would be a great distraction from the suffocating feeling of public humiliation.

In the midst of all the theories and queries being thrown at him from every angle, his phone went off multiple times. Mostly from you, but the rest were no doubt the groupchat clowning him once they caught wind of the news. The guys weren't gonna let him live this one down, that's for certain. And to make matters worse...he still had four long minutes left in the class.

He exhaled, "Should've blocked 'em when I had the chance..."

Gathering up his stuff, Kuroo used his long legs to evade the ever-growing crowd of prodding students, all most likely not even caring about the post itself, but more so just wanting to kill class time; he refused to be a scapegoat.

Marching right up to the professor, who gave up trying to round up the class, the rooster-head mustered up the most pathetic look possible to evoke sympathy outta the wrinkly man. "Hey, so uh… may I please be excused a little early for this one time, sir? I'd really hate to be such a distraction from your insightful lecture-"

"Just go, Mr. Tetsurou." Didn't need to tell him twice.

As soon as he made it to your dorm, you could imagine his shock that his friends were already there, waiting as if they knew he'd come running straight to you. You offered him a teasing grin, shrugging as you said, “They came for…emotional support.”

He didn't know if he was mortified or mortified—Yaku, Yamamoto, Bokuto, Akaashi, hell, even Kenma rolled out of bed, wrapped in a blanket burrito and all, just to see the look on his best friend's face. He grinned, sardonically, then patted the empty spot on the couch right next to him. "Welcome to the club. We've been expecting you."

Oh, he was definitely blocking that godforsaken list now. And finding a new elective.

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[itgetsdark-x]

dbf!joel with a reader that has an attitude like maddy perez though… i mean he shouldn’t be turned on by that but GOD she acts and talks like she owns the shit, prance around in mini dresses and skirts, and perhaps she always does this thing with her mouth that just makes him want to bend her over and fuck the bratty attitude outta her

A/N: when I tell you this had me swooning, sheesh. The thought of Joel just getting so angry until he snaps and fucks you so roughly?! Damn. I got a lil carried away; I hope it’s okay for you, anon! 💜

Summary: You’re a good-looking woman and you know it, you know you could have any man you wants and you never wanted to work hard for it. Joel Miller was different.

Warnings: 18+, minors dni! Unprotected p in v (be better than them!), degrading, slight praise kink, oral (m receiving), age gap, some slapping and rough sex. It’s kinda just filth lol.

Characters: dbf!Joel Miller x bratty!reader (f)

Word Count: 4.9k (yes, I got carried away)

You knew you were attractive, it wasn’t cocky or ignorant but you knew it; ever since you started showing an interest in boys when you were a teen it was easy to get guys’ and never once had you struggled to have a boyfriend. 

You were in your mid-twenties now and that attitude had followed you; what you wanted, you got. Simple. Only now, it wasn’t that simple because you couldn’t get the one thing you wanted, or rather, who you wanted. 

Joel Miller was a family friend, you hadn’t overly paid much attention to him when you were younger, partly because you knew he wouldn’t be interested in a kid but also because you were distracted by boys your own age, you had constantly been parading a stream of jock’s and idiots around your dad, and therefore Joel. Your father and him worked together and played together, they spent most evenings in front of the TV watching sports and drinking beers. 

It was only now, it felt like an issue. Joel was a permanent fixture around your house and god, it fucked you off that you couldn’t seem to get him. 

———

It was a Friday evening, like normal, your father and Joel were in the kitchen talking about work and sports, drinking their beers. 

“Hi daddy.” You grinned innocently, kissing your dad’s cheek as you entered the kitchen. 

“Hey princess.” Your dad smiled back before giving you a small hug. 

Joel’s eyes tracked you when you entered the space, his eyes raked over you as you got on your tiptoes to hug your dad back and he couldn’t help the way he drank in your shapely legs; your mini skirt leaving very little the the imagination. 

“Hi Mr Miller.” You purred, batting your eyelashes at him blatantly. 

“Hi.” Joel replied gruffly. 

“What?” You asked, popping your hip to the side with attitude. “No hug for me?” You pouted, your glossy lips looking so kissable… so fuckable. 

Joel mentally cursed himself at the thought. You drove him insane with your short dresses and tight outfits and your constant pouting; he wanted to wrap his hand into your hair and bury his cock so deeply into your mouth and throat you would have tears staining your cheeks. 

“Joel.” You huffed, snapping your delicate fingers in his face. “I said. Do I not get a hug?” You rolled your eyes, Joel’s blood boiled at your attitude but he smiled through gritted teeth at you. 

“Oh of course, always a hug for my best girl.” He said, forcing himself to be charming. 

You giggled and bounded over to his, your breasts wobbling in the tight material of your white crop top. You wrapped your arms around him, around his neck and you brought your body tightly to his. He was so rough, so rugged and big and it made your core throb as you thought how it would feel to be fucked by him. 

Your dad was so oblivious to the way you acted around his friend, he was wrapped so tightly around your little finger that he rarely paid any attention to the way you reacted or dressed. He only cared if you were happy and cared for, whether that be with food, money or clothes. In his eyes, you could do no wrong and you were his world. 

“Daddy, I’m hungry.” You huffed, leaning over the kitchen counter to face him, Joel stood to your side. 

He was grateful you were no longer hugging him, he could feel every curve of your body and he was sure if you held on any longer you would have felt the hard curve of his cock in his jeans. His hand gently gripped the edge of the counter when he glanced down at you, he saw the material of your g-string thong showing so blatantly above the waistband of your skirt. If he was stood behind you, he would have seen the full view of your plump ass showing for anyone to take. 

“Funnily enough, Joel and I were discussing ordering a pizza in. Does that work for you, baby?” Your dad asked, turning to grab two more beers out of the fridge. 

“Ugh. No. Gross.” You whined, folding your arms over your chest in protest. “I want Thai food!”

Joel’s jaw clenched as you spoke, your demeanour and attitude begged to be attended to, begged to be sorted out and he knew how he could sort it. He would fuck you so hard and fast until you were drunk on his cock and so compliant for him. 

“I’m happy with whatever, Thai work okay for you, Miller?” Your dad said. 

“Uh,” Joel started and you turned to look at him, pouting once again with your bottom lip jutted out. There it was again, that face, it drove him insane every-time you did it. “Fine. Works fine!”

———

You finished up your food, you had all moved into the living room and you were sat crossed legged on the sofa, Joel was across from you and you could feel his eyes boring into you as you ate. You slurped up your noddles, being sure to exaggerate your lips even more as Joel watched you. 

“I’m going out in a bit, by the way. Can I have some money?” You asked sweetly to your dad. 

“Where are you going?” Asked your father casually, finishing up his own food. 

“Oh just out with the girls, Kara broke up with her boyfriend so we are gonna go out, get a little wild and see if we can find her a rebound.” You giggled. “Who knows; might find me another boy since things didn’t work out with Jacob.”

“Oh god, please don’t tell me details sweetheart, I don’t need to know what you plan on getting up to. Just as long as you’re safe and take protection with you.” Your dad laughed softly. “How much money do you want?”

“$150?” You asked. 

“Princess, I gave you $80 yesterday for some new clothes. How about $100?”

You whined, rolling your eyes. “You’re the worst but fine. Whatever. I’m going to get ready.” You huffed and stomped out of the room. 

Joel’s hands were clenched on the arm of the chair, you were such a brat and your father never seemed to care, never seemed to discipline you. He hated to admit it but your attitude just made you more attractive and it made his cock ache in his pants. 

He hadn’t paid much attention to you when you were a teen, he had no reason to as you were his friend’s kid but when you came back after dropping out of college and living off your dad, he noticed you more. You were still you; confident, bratty and sometimes rude but now you were a woman, you had curves and your attitude only drove him madder for you. Not that he wanted to cross that line, he wanted to remain stronger than that. 

The thought of you going out, with your friends no doubt dressed in something skimpy and revealing made Joel want to march up into your room, push your face into your mattress roughly and fuck the attitude right out of you. And the thought of you going home with some boy? Well that almost blinded him with pure rage. 

———

Your night out was uneventful; your friends and you had plenty of drinks and you had a good time but you didn’t find anyone to go home with, didn’t find anyone to take the edge off with. 

You yawned and stretched, rubbing your eyes gently to remove the final remnants of sleep from them. You checked your phone for a while, scrolling through the instagram posts your friends had put up from the night before and you smiled at them. Soon, your stomach rumbled and you decided it was finally time to venture out of your bed for food. 

You pulled on a pair of hot pant shorts, the material gripped your figure and barely covered the fullness of your ass and you paired it with a cami top, it was skin-tight and cropped just above your belly button. You walked down the stairs and wandered into your kitchen, you were greeted by Joel stood leant up against your kitchen counter, sipping coffee. 

He was wearing a tight t-shirt, the fabric hugged his arms perfectly and fitted slimly over his dad bod, he paired it with his usual pair of jeans. 

“Hi Mr Miller, what’re you doing here?” You said, your voice smooth. 

“Oh. Hi.” He mumbled, barely looking at you as you spoke. “Your dad,”

“Daddy.” You corrected with a raised brow. 

“Fine. Whatever. Your daddy and I had plans to go out to the lake today but he had to pop off to the work site we have been on all week, some sort of emergency that they needed the boss for.” He shrugged and his nonchalance drove you mad. “He said I should just hang out here until he got back, he said it shouldn’t take anymore than an hour or two but the site’s the other side of town so who knows.”

“Oh well. I’m hungry. You gonna make me breakfast or buy me something?” You asked, sauntering round so Joel was forced to look at you. 

It had been months of this now, constant teasing on your behalf, wearing next to nothing anytime the male was nearby, lingering touches to his hand or arm, you constantly eye-fucking him whenever he caught your gaze. You loved it, you knew it drove Joel mad and just as much as you wanted the male to make a move, part of the fun was teasing him so badly. 

Joel had spent more nights than he cared to admit, fisting his cock until he came apart in his hand to thoughts of you on your knees or you bent over so he could fuck every ounce of attitude out of you. 

“Joel.” You pouted, huffing loudly when he wasn’t paying any attention to you. You clapped in his face, abruptly pulling him from his filthy thoughts once again. 

He looked at you, there was that face again. His hands clenched into tight fists at his side and he rolled his eyes at you. 

“You want to learn some manners, young lady.” Joel said gruffly. 

“Yeah?” You asked, your eyebrow cocked up in question as your hand rested on your hip. “And who’s gonna teach me some manners? You?” You laughed. “Now. Breakfast. Hurry up and order something, yeah? I’m hungry. I’m gonna go shower whilst we wait.” You spoke softly but the rudely, your bratty tone oozed from each word. 

You turned on your heels to walk away after rolling your eyes at the older male once again. Before you were even able to reach the doorway of the kitchen you felt rough hands into your hair and you yelped loudly as you were tugged backwards. 

“What the fuck?!” You screamed, your loud voice boomed into the empty kitchen. 

Before you could push Joel off, he had you pinned up against the wall, one hand was still entangled in your locks and his other hand was holding your hip against the cool wood of your kitchen cabinets. 

“Get the fuck off of me.” You spat, trying to push Joel off of you. “Wait until daddy hears about this, you asshole. You’re hurting me!”

Joel barked out a laugh, it was sadistic and there was a sick smirk plastered over his features. 

“Now now, don’t act like this isn’t making your needy little cunt throb.” Joel whispered. “Think it’s about time to teach you some proper manners, since you can’t seem to find any.”

“I —“ you started but Joel pressed his lips roughly to yours, his fingers tightened their grip in your hair and manoeuvred your head to exactly the right angle he wanted. 

Your mouth opened willingly as Joel’s lips moved against yours, his tongue delved into your mouth and hungrily attacked every inch he could reach within your mouth. He could taste vanilla from your chapstick, he could smell your perfume wafting through his senses and it made his cock stiffen impossibly in his pants. 

“You’re going to get to your knees and you’re going to be a good little girl and suck my cock. Understood? Otherwise I’m sure your daddy would love to hear how you tried to seduce his best friend, wouldn’t want that to happen now, would you?” Joel smirked, tugging your hair roughly until you were sinking to your knees obediently. 

You looked up at him, through your lashes; you were the perfect sight, your plush lips were pouting again and Joel couldn’t wait until his cock was punishing your throat. Your head was swimming, you could still feel Joel’s fingers in your hair and you couldn’t deny the way your core throbbed with excitement. 

Joel’s free hand toyed with the buckle of his belt to undo the leather before he freed his member from his jeans and boxers, you gulped roughly as you stared at Joel’s cock in front of your face;  he was large, bigger than any other guy before him and he was impossibly thick. You knew taking him in was going to be a struggle but there was no denying that you couldn’t wait to try. 

You leant forward and let your tongue kitten lick at the tip of his cock, a familiar salty tang hit your tastebuds and it made your mouth water; you wanted more. You opened your mouth, your tongue out flat and you pushed your head forward until you were enveloping his member into the hot, wet embrace of your mouth. 

Joel peered down at you, he could see down the front of your cami as you leant forward, your hands laid obediently in your lap; he could see the soft peaks of your breasts and noticed the way your nipples had hardened under his gaze. Your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to sink your mouth down fully onto Joel’s cock but before you could reach the base, he hit the back of your throat which caused you to gag. 

Joel laughed sadistically again, his fingers pressed into your skull as your locks entangled further around his fingers and as soon as he felt the resistance, he pushed your head down harder until his cock nudged into your throat deeper. You breathed through your nose, and your eyes screwed shut as you tried not to gag again. 

“So pathetic,” Joel barked, pulling his hips back to snap forward again until you gagged once more. “Can’t even take my cock properly. Thought you were a big girl, huh?”

You fluttered your eyes open to look up at Joel, your mouth stretched around his cock as he fucked into your mouth roughly.

“Can’t back-chat now, can you, little girl?” Joel smirked, his spare hand coming up to caress your cheek softly. 

You couldn’t help but lean into the tender touch, your head lulled to the side ever-so and Joel smirked as he removed his hand just to bring it down with a harsh slap. You whimpered around his length and Joel slapped you again, your cheek stung but you focused on the feeling of Joel filling your mouth. 

He roughly held your cheek and used your head as leverage to roughly fuck into your mouth. Spit spilled from your swollen lips, it dribbled down your chin and you could tell that you were a mess. Tears pricked your eyes as you continuously gagged as his cock bruised your throat. You couldn’t wait until you could still feel him later, to be reminded of this moment. 

Joel groaned roughly as he watched you, for once you weren’t able to pout, you weren’t able to back chat him or give him attitude. You were being just what he wanted; willing to give and so obedient. 

“Good girl, taking me better now, aren’t you?” Joel cooed. “What would you do if your daddy came in and saw you like this? Crying around my cock, spit running down your chin. Dirty girl.”

You whimpered pathetically, your chest was heaving with each word and you couldn’t help but feel the panic rise in you, you were in plain sight of the front door. If your father came in now, you would be a dead woman walking. Joel abruptly pulled his length from your mouth, it made an obscene popping noise and your mouth fell agape softly, you felt so empty as soon as Joel left you. 

You absently wiped at your chin with the back of your hand and Joel pulled your hair until you were on your feet once again. Laboured breaths left your swollen lips and you stared blankly at Joel, all attitude seemingly had been fucked out of your mouth and your brain was filled with thoughts of Joel and nothing else. 

“Upstairs. Undress now. Get upstairs and lay on your bed face down, with your needy cunt ready for me.” Joel grunted, releasing your hair from his grip. 

Your fingers massaged at your scalp softly where Joel’s grip had been, your skin aches deliciously. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself, now be a good girl and go.” He spoke gruffly, his fingers dug into the small of your back and nudged your forward. 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, you hadn’t seen Joel like this before and part of you wanted to laugh at this tough bravado he was putting on. 

Joel noticed it, of course he did and he quickly slammed your body into the wall; it knocked the air out of your lungs and you gasped in shock. 

“W-what?!” You stammered out. “I was just doing as you told, I was about to go upstairs. Isn’t that what you wanted?” You asked innocently, a small smirk spreading over your lips. You couldn’t help yourself. 

“Guess I haven’t fucked the attitude out of you enough yet.” 

You shrugged under the weight of Joel’s arm holding you against the wall, a shit-eating smirk only growing as you saw the frustration bubble in his features. 

“Guess not. Gonna have to try harder than that, old man.” You grinned. 

Joel’s hand clenched at his side, you could see his skin turning white with the effort of it and it only made you grin further. You let out a small laugh. 

The older male’s face was straight, his features were cold like a stone statue but you could feel and see his anger in his eyes. He took his arm that was pinning you down and instead wrapped his hand around your throat, his fingers squeezed you pulse points gently and you moaned. 

“Knew you would like that. See, I was going to give you the pleasure of a soft bed but now I’m thinking I should bend you right over the kitchen table.” Joel said with a raised brow and you nodded weakly. 

He took his free hand and dipped it into the waistband of your pants; without warning his fingers slipped between your slick folds. He looked into your eyes, his gaze locked on yours as his fingers toyed with your swollen clit. He cocked a brow in question as your slick juices coated his fingers. 

“So fuckin’ wet for me, little girl. You like being treated like a dumb little slut, huh?” 

You nodded dumbly, your voice didn’t seem to function correctly and it’s all you could muster up. Joel’s fingers gripped tighter at your throat, the sensation made your head dizzy and all you could do was whimper weakly at the male. 

“Answer me.” Joel growled, his hand releasing your throat to slap at your cheek once again. 

“Y-yes, yes I do!” You spluttered out. 

“Right answer.” Joel hissed as his fingers circled around your clit. 

As much as he loved teasing you, he couldn’t wait any longer and he needed to hear how you sounded as you came around his fingers. You moaned, his fingers sped up and he roughly plunged two fingers into your greedy heat. Your eyes fell shut as Joel pumped his digits quickly, with the angle of his wrist, the heel of his palm nudged against your sensitive clit with each thrust of his fingers. You gripped weakly at his arms as he fucked into your hole with his fingers, his other hand squeezed your neck again and he smirked when you moaned louder. 

“Come on, little girl, you can do better than that. Tell me how good my fingers feel? Huh? You wanna be a brat? Tell me how good I’m making you feel.” 

“Joel,” you gasped, your fingers scratching at his skin in vein. “Feels s-so good. Can’t take it much more. You feel so good, I just need your cock filling up my hole. Please. Fuck.” You rambled, you weren’t even sure if your sentences were coherent. 

“Patience. I want you to cum on my fingers. Now be a good little slut and do it for me. Hm? You wanna be all big and bratty, now cum on my fingers.” He growled lowly, his lips ghosted over your own and you pouted when he retreated as you tried to kiss him. “Stop pouting.”

Joel’s voice was gruff, it sent shivers down your spine and he pulled his fingers out to slap at the sensitive skin of your vagina. You whined and just as quickly as he pulled them out, he pressed his fingers back into you and deeper this time, they nudged at your g-spot which caused your legs to buckle underneath you. Joel laughed, he shook his head and held your hip roughly, pinning you back in place. 

His fingers sped up, with each thrust the tip of his fingers rubbed over your g-spot and his palm rubbed over your clit; you were seeing stars and you knew your orgasm was about to crash over you. You clenched around Joel’s fingers and he knew the telltale signs, he kept his movements consistent and your fingers gripped roughly at Joel’s arms, searching for leverage to keep yourself upright. 

“C’mon darlin’, is this all you’ve got? C’mon cum for me, be a good girl.” Joel whispered. “That’s it. Atta girl. Such a good girl.” Joel praised when he felt your walls flutter around his fingers. 

You came apart almost instantly when Joel spoke to you, your legs were shaking as they fought to keep you standing as Joel’s fingers fucked you through your orgasm. Tears spilled from the corner of your eyes as you slowly came down from your intense orgasm. 

Joel kissed your temple, it was a tender moment in the midst of his dominant act and it made your heart flutter rapidly. 

“Bend over the kitchen table. I need to bury my cock into your pretty little cunt before your daddy gets home. Need you thinking about my cock for days after.”

Joel removed his fingers from your pants and before you could move, he pressed his slicked fingers to your mouth. 

“Open.” He stated and with that, you opened your mouth and sucked in his digits.

He groaned as your tongue swirled around his thick fingers and you moaned as you tasted yourself on him. It was by far one of the filthiest things you had done, if anyone else tried it you would have slapped them and walked out but it was Joel, he was so perfect and you couldn’t say no. 

“Table.” Joel said, shrugging towards the kitchen table. 

You nodded, walking shakily over to the table. You shimmed your hot pants over your ass and bent over for Joel to take you as he pleased. He hadn’t bothered to pack away his hard, leaking cock and as he walked over to you, he stroked himself a few times just to stave off the throbbing. You watched on in awe, your head resting in your arms as Joel’s hand worked his cock. 

“Please.” You whimpered, rubbing your thighs together in need. 

“Beg for it. Beg for my cock and I’ll fill you up so good, I promise.” Joel groaned, standing behind you now. He kicked apart your feet and slapped his heavy cock against your wet pussy. 

“Please Joel, I need it so bad. I want it so bad. Please. I don’t beg, usually. I’m a mess here, never wanted anything so bad. I need you.” You all but sobbed, your watery eyes peering behind you, searching for the older male.  

Joel let out a breathy chuckle, he pressed his hot cock-head to your hole and without a second thought, he thrust forward roughly. It felt like he was splitting you open and you relished in the stinging sensation of your walls stretching around him. He captured one of your hips in his large palm and he pulled out of you before thrusting back into you with fervour. His other hand weaved its way into your soft locks again, pressing your head roughly into the table. Part of you registered a dull pain but all you could focus on was the feeling of Joel’s cock filling you up. 

You moaned pathetically under him, your hands pawed at the smooth wood of your kitchen table and you whimpered as you searched for something to grip. 

“Such a good little cocksleeve for me, hm?” Joel groaned. 

You nodded weakly under Joel’s hand, as the table bit into the skin of your hips; you knew there were going to be bruises later but for now, Joel’s cock worked into you continuously and it made you dizzy. 

“I said,” Joel grunted, his hips slapping against your ass. “You’re such a good cocksleeve. It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it?” Joel asked. 

“Y-yes. It’s all I’m good for!” You w confirmed shakily. 

“Good girl, good little slut for me; your dad’s best friend, a man who is almost double your age. What a naughty little brat. Hopefully this’ll teach you some goddamned manners going forward.” Joel spoke, it felt as if with each word, he thrusted into you twice as hard. 

You were a mess under Joel, a mess of moans and begs tumbling from your lips carelessly; his cock was making you dumber with each thrust. You couldn’t even muster a coherent sentence even if you tried, let alone a bratty response. You had finally got the person you wanted the most and it was even better than you could have imagined. 

“Gonna, gonna,” you whimpered as Joel’s cock nudged deep into your walls. 

“Mhm, course you are. Pathetic. Little. Slut.” Joel cursed, his hips landing bruising contact against your ass. 

It was such a stark contrast to how Joel carried himself in his day-to-day life, he was usually pleasant and so charming. Not dominant and with a filthy mouth at all. It drove you insane though, his words mixed with his abusing pace of his cock, it had you tumbling into your orgasm abruptly. 

Your cheeks were stained with tears, you were completely at Joel’s will and you were willing to do anything the male asked for. Never before had you cum from just a guy fucking you, and never this intensely. Your stomach felt tight as your walls gripped and milked Joel; his hips stuttered as you came, your grip on his cock was enough for him to spill his hot seed into your greedy hole. Joel’s large hands pawed at your ass, his gripped the flesh roughly as he fucked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, his body shuddered and he slipped out of you when he finished. 

You made a small noise as your body stayed in place bent over the table, you could feel Joel’s hot cum dripping down your inner thigh and it made you moan softly. 

“You still wanna act like a brat?” Joel asked, his soft hand stroking at your lower back. 

You shook your head no with a lazy, complacent smile on your lips. 

“Good girl, don’t you forget who’s in charge here. Act like a brat again and I’ll have to punish you again.” Joel whispered as he leant down to kiss your cheek softly. “Now go clean up, you’re a mess and your daddy will be home soon. I’ll order something for breakfast, too.” He smirked, packing himself away into his jeans again. 

You let out a breathy laugh as you pushed your body off the table, you winced as your back adjusted to being stood again and you grabbed your hot pants off the floor before leaving to go shower. 

“I want pancakes!” You demanded from the stairs. 

“‘I wants’ don’t get, darlin’. Try again.” Joel retorted. 

“Fine. Please can I get some pancakes?” You huffed softly, rolling your eyes again; you were just grateful that the male couldn’t see you this. 

“Looks like my cock worked, then. Good job.” He cooed. 

Your legs shook as they carried you upstairs, you finally got who you wanted and you knew it would only be a matter of time until you had him again. 

————————

—

————————

[explosionshark]

bri I literally rewatched the Ep were Buffy gets kicked out of the Big Brother House + they go to the Bronze and it’s SO much funnier than I even remembered jfc

The fact that even Faith is like “wait I literally don’t want to be in charge, I just think B needs to take a nap before we rush into a plan” but EVERYONE ELSE INCLUDING BUFFY’S FRIENDS ARE JUST LIKE “ABSOLUTELY NOT, WE WANT VIOLENCE” is HYSTERICAL. The only other person NOT on team “get this blonde OUTTA HERE” is Principal Wood, and that’s EXCLUSIVELY because Faith read him so hard after their 3 minute conversation that he was too horned up to speak the rest of the night (and frankly he’s right for that).

Speaking of King Wood btw, forgot that he basically says to Faith “Fuffy Real Yeah?” which leads to Faith shading him and him literally BATTING HIS EYES BASICALLY AT HER LIKE ‘noooo faith don’t come for my everything noooo omg (kicks feet)’.

S7 was trip. I’m still mad that those ex wives never kiss. They literally argue every 10 seconds & Buffy is STILL dealing w/ this tangible fear that Faith is gonna try to fuck her life up again. She literally can’t parse that Faith just wants to like, be there & be a part of things!!! Let my stupid brunette big brown eyed loser girlfailure just grab her and kiss her!!! Please!!!

The melatonin NEEDS to kick in I’m actually going insane sicko mode about this!!!

hi stag sorry this languished in my inbox for soooo long i am just easily distractable.

anyway god yeah i really wish there had been more time for buffy/faith interactions bc like. what we get is SO tantalizing.

i love how the dynamic kinda flips - buffy's got all this anger she's been holding onto and faith, in the meantime, has become kinda just stoic and sad and even more fuckable. some good gifsets have REALLY highlighted this but the contrast btwn s3/s4 faith goading buffy into violence and gleefully accepting her ass whoopings vs s7 faith. when she gets suckerpunched in dirty girls she takes it really gracefully. when buffy hits her again outside the bronze in empty spaces she looks SO disappointed and devastated. watching that dynamic untangle over more time would have been soooo satisfying.

i guess that's what fic is for. there are a bunch of good s7 ones out there anyway.

[lovecinnatwist]

A Lingerie list of Problems

Pairing: JayDick Rating: M Tags: Lingerie, Alpha, Beta, Omega Dynamics

--

The way Dick moves is sensuous.

His full hips rock from side to side while mischievous blue eyes focus on Jason. The alpha sinks a little deeper into his chair. Hiding his face behind his copy of 'Jane Eyre'. The last thing he needs is to be the victim of the omega's boredom. He's fallen for it too many times already.

After all- fool me once shame on you.

" Little Wing-"

Fool me twice shame on me.

The voice is sweet. Too sweet. Jason knows he's fucked before it actually unfolds. He curses his newly-repaired relationship with the bats. Then curses Dick's ability to turn his alpha brain to mush.

The primal part of him is reacting to Dick's sweetness. Leaning into the omega's space with a soft rumble. The omega smiles with mirth. Closing the distance between them smelling clean and lovely. He's wearing the perfume Damian got him for ' not mother's day'. It's thick in the air and makes it far too challenging to resist obeying.

" Come upstairs with me. "

Fool me six or seven times-

Jason's an idiot.

Dick leads him out of the chair and up the stairs with grace. The way he sneaks about is playful. Pulling Jason along the halls with simpering looks and teasing grins. It only takes two turns for Jason to realize he's being led to Dick's bedroom. This part of the wing is eerily quiet, both Damian and Tim out God knows where.

They slip into Dick's room. The omega is practically vibrating with how eager he is. It only takes Jason one look to realize why.

There, on the bed is an array of skimpy outfits Dick probably has no need for. The sheer variety makes a cold sweat break out on Jason's neck. He knows why he's here before the omega gets a chance to tell him.

" Help me pick one?"

Jason hears something break inside of him. Lingerie. Dick wants him to help him with lingerie.

All over the top of the mattress, there are at least a dozen outfits neatly placed. What need could Dick possible have for this many undergarments? Most if not all, with the tags still on.

Jason lets his eyes roam over the fabric reluctantly. There's a wide range of styles, starting with a classic soft pink baby doll and going all the way out to a fierce set made up of red lace, garters, stockings and thin straps that would stand no chance against an alpha's teeth. The sheer audacity of the outfit makes him hot under the collar.

" Well-"

Dick's tone is knowing. His beautiful features in open amusement. Jason's eyes dart away. Brain desperately trying to find a way out of this situation. Why is it always him?

Hesitantly, his eyes fall back on the delicate material. The possibilities are overwhelming. He finds his gaze trailing to a blue teddy style. Nothing too revealing, but the fabric is silky and sheer. He especially likes the lacey black trim. The top obviously made to emphasis an omega's shoulders while covering the neck.

He lets his fingers reach out to brush against it.  It's softer than it looks but feels durable. He's not quite sure who would have sex in such a thing. It's more like a sexy one-piece bathing suit. The alpha would have to slip the material aside just to-

Jason pulls his hands back. The hot images behind his eyes burning him like a flame. Dick pays him little to no mind. Instead, he takes the fabric and considers it for a moment. His pretty blue eyes compliment the cloth beautifully.

" Good pick Jay, this is one of my favourites. "

The alpha nods wordlessly, wanting nothing more than to return to the library. Maybe after a shower. An ice-cold one that washes away all filthy fantasies about the pack omega. Why did Dick always have to pick him for this stuff? Tim is the other omega in the house- he should be going to him for this!

Well, the pretty smile Dick gives him makes it worth it. It's obvious whoever this person is that the omega really wants to impress them. His job done Jason starts towards the door. His skin prickles with the need to get out of the room.

" Well glad I could help Dick. Good luck with- whatever this is. "

Jason does not make it to the door.  Dick wraps a hand around his wrist, effectively stopping him from leaving. In his other hand, he's holding the lingerie. A mischievous glint twinkles in his eye.

" Hold on Jay I have to try it on. How else do we know it looks good? "

He's pretty sure his brain short circuits. The outfits alone are already sexy. Imagining the omega in them is overwhelming. Actually, seeing Dick in the delicate lace, however?

Definitely outside of his mental capacity.

The slight whimper that leaves his throat is feeble.

" But Dick I was-"

Big blue eyes blink up at him. Clear and enchanting in a way that Jason can't resist. The fight leaves him before he can even finish his argument. Why did he always fall for this?

Dick ends up perching him on a chair near the desk. Apparently completely committed to ruining Jason's life. The man escapes to the adjacent walk-in closet with glee.

Jason doesn't exhale until the door shuts. He keeps his palms on his knees, smoothing the fabric there. It's something to do and helps him with his sweaty palms. He feels hot. Too hot. The entire room smell's like Dick. The scent of unmated omega grating on his senses like a too-tight suit.

He could do this. Just one or two flattering remarks and Dick would be right as rain. Then he could go wallow in the training room and maybe beat out some of this pent up alpha energy. Maybe go for a run or something. Anything but staying here with the pretty omega.

The man is clearly taking his time to get into his outfit. There's nothing but soft shuffling from behind the door. Subtle noises that make Jason more anxious. He's trying hard to keep his mind clear. He adds prime numbers as he tries to ignore the fact that Dick is behind that door naked. Very obscure glimpses of movement are visible from behind the closet shutters.

" Ready?"

Jason, is in fact, not ready.  Not that it matters when the omega comes out anyway. It's like a slap to the face. The sheer amount of beauty Dick carries doesn't wane in the outfit. If anything it's amplified tenfold. Jason finds himself stupidly speechless, words lost to him.

Dick seems to take that as a compliment. He wastes no time in twirling and checking himself out in the full-length mirror. The level of confidence and comfort the other holds in outstanding. He carries himself like he's wearing his Nightwing uniform or maybe even a tailored suit. The nerve itself is sexy all on its own.

Jason can't imagine what's going through the omega's mind. How could Dick so readily reveal himself to him like this? They might be pack mates, but he is still an alpha. It's almost as if he doesn't see Jason as a potential suitor at all. More like a pup or a kid brother. The thought is daunting. He doesn't really get to wallow in it however because blue fills his vision.

" So- What do you think?"

Gorgeous.

Scrumptious.

Teeth sinking-ly delicious.

Jason swallows down his thoughts as his eyes scan the omega over. It's too stimulating. There isn't enough blood in his brain to formulate a proper response.

" Good. "

Dick shifts his weight to his other heel- ( Oh God he's wearing black stilettos. Where did he get black stilettos have they always been there? ) His lips form into a pout.

" Just good? That's it?"

Jason internally screams. What else is he supposed to say?

Dick expression doesn't fall. If anything the omega looks more determine. He doesn't ask Jason anything else. Just whirls over to the bed and grabs another outfit and retreats into the closet.

That's when Jason realizes he made a horrible mistake.

Dick tries on every. Single. Outfit.

From a cute periwinkle baby doll set. To a beautiful lace full body pantsuit that makes his mouth water. It's all elegant, expensive and classy. He looks like a wealthy omega consort, one that lives dripping in jewels and silk every day of his life.

" Cute."

It's not enough.

" Stunning. "

It gets him a small style.

" Sexy. "

Dick full-on grins.

Jason's temporarily limited vocabulary starts to expand every single time Dick comes out. It isn't Shakespeare by any stretch of the imagination. His words are clumsy and coarse his mouth far too full of alpha pheromones to manage anything better.

Dick gosh darn preens under the ungainly praise.

By the time they're on the last outfit, Jason has to pace back and forth to keep calm. The room is bursting with the omega's delight and his desire. He positively wreaks of interest. He has no idea how Dick hasn't noticed it yet. At least they're almost done.

Then Jason will be free to head to his room and jerk off with his teeth in his pillow. Is it sad and pathetic? Yes. But after that display, he doesn't think he can get it up for anyone else if he tried. As if his manhood agrees, it throbs tortuously against his zipper. Stubbornly straining for release.

Jason growls low and to himself. It's at that same time that the closet doors open again. His eyes snap up. His entire body wants nothing more than to bask in the lovely omega's presence. The sight that greets him is more than he can endure.

Red.

He's never seen Dick is red he thinks. Like this, the omega looks dangerous. Voluptuous curves obscenely accentuated by red lace and black straps. He didn't even see Dick take it off of the bed. His mouth is dry for not the first time.

His alpha instincts surge to the surface. Pressing him to claim, fuck and breed until the omega is wholly in his scent. His jaw aches from the effort to keep still. To stand and just watch as this beautiful creature poses for him while wearing his colour.

Dick spins. Showing off his attire lavishly. Jason thinks his zipper might break when he gets sight of the plush ass in lace and garters. He licks his lips, canines suddenly feeling sharp.

" How do I look? "

Dick pushes out his chest. Giving Jason a peek of a pert pink nipple under scandalous clothing.

Jason couldn't stop the words even if he tried.

" Fuckable. "

He gets a feral smile in return, one that looks downright wicked on the omega's features. Dick isn't even the least bit subtle when he bends forward and shows off sinful cleavage. His hands slide up his thighs and play with the edge of high black stockings.

Jason's gaze can't help following. His eye-burning hot as they fall on the skimpy lace panties. Dick's hand dips between his legs. Gently pushing aside the fabric to reveal a slit.

The omega's sweet- soft folds spill out. Plush pussy lips already glistening with slick. Dick's fingers slip in and God- he can hear the wetness from here.

A broken growl leaves his throat, the sound makes Dick grin.

" Then fuck me. "

[squiishiichaos]

How about buff kairi giving both sora and riku( the two being dorks who keep dancing around each other) love advice since she's with olette?

(So, I’mma assume this takes place in the part of Buff!Kairi AU I have yet to write.  In fact, I’mma write a scene that’s supposed to take place later in that AU, because I fucking love the image in my head.

Anyway, for anyone who doesn’t know what Buff!Kairi is, there’s a whole AU I wrote one chapter of and no one cares, so, fuck it.  Let’s begin this shit.)

____

She could admit–kind of–that at first, watching someone as put together and valiant as Riku get flustered over a fucking selfie had been…cute?  Unexpected?  Kairi wasn’t sure what the correct word was, but it didn’t matter anymore. 

By now, watching that blush stand stark against the pale contrast of his skin made her want nothing more than to feed her companion to the Heartless.  

Fucking Sora.  He’s distracting him again.  You’d think after all the bullshit and endless fights that the Brunet might one day grow up enough to stop sending risque selfies to Riku while they were in the middle of a make-or-break fight, but no, of fucking course not.  Because Sora was just as desperate for Riku to confess as Riku looked for breath right now. 

This is ri-goddamn-diculous.   I’m ending it.

Stomping her way across the battlefield, knocking heartless aside with a sweeping strike of her Lone Survivor greatsword, she hardly stopped to entertain the big body that attempted to barrel her over.  Simply held her sword out to the side as a pike for it to impale itself on before casually chucking it over her head and into another pack of shadows clumsily drawing toward her.   

On the same note that one might think Riku’d eventually get up the courage to confess after collecting an entire folder of flustered Sora pics, it’d be nice if the goddamn heartless got a clue, too.  They’d been whittling this pack down for the past few minutes now, and she was starting to get bored.   Where was Olette to keep her on her toes with messages not meant to be seen when she was in the thick of it?  Why couldn’t it be her phone that was chiming off?

Oh, well.   You’ve got a job to do, Kai.  Time to fuck some shit up.  And by some shit, she meant Riku.

Just so we’re clear. 

Batting another few heartless into non-existence, she finally tapered her gait to stand beside Riku and get a good look at what exactly was driving him mad in the middle of the field, and–in fairness–she could admit that if Olette was ever stupid enough to send her something so mindlessly provocative over a fucking phone, no amount of love would keep her from committing murder.  At that point, it would be justified. 

Much like Sora’s many other photos–the ones she’d glimpsed, anyway–he had snapped it likely right after a fight.    The remnants of a brawl lingered in the red flush dusted across sun-kissed cheeks, off-setting the blue sky in his eyes.   A glassy exhaustion had them closed half-way, lending a more sultry feel than the dirt and ichor stains on what she could see of his clothes suggested.    Speaking of clothes, his undershirt dipped an inch lower than normal, exposing more of his defined pecks for Riku’s private viewing; the collar of his jacket hanging off his arms and exposing the smooth skin of unmarked shoulders.   

With his head tilted back and gaze focused down at the lowered camera, his mouth was parted with just a slight peak of tongue at the edge of his lips, like he had been caught at the end of licking his lips.   His expression might have been meant to seem breathless, but considering who his intended party was, Kairi had no doubt that he had meant to look as fuckable as possible while playing it off as an accident post massacre. 

Below that disaster of a picture, the words, I’m so hot, Riku… just added icing on the cake.   

How much more obvious could he be?

“This…Kairi, how do I respond to this?!   I’m…I don’t…” Riku swallowed thickly and she had to act quick to slice down the Big Body that almost rolled him into a pancake.  It might have been a more productive conversation if she hadn’t.  “Like, who even does this?!”

“Your boyfriend.”

“He is not my–”

“He’s about to be.”   Sheathing Lone Survivor, Kairi punted the shadow that came racing toward them and quickly stole Riku’s phone from his hand in the ensuing chaos.   

Whipping him around by the lapels of his jacket, she elbowed another Heartless off her shoulder and kicked yet another one back to the abyss.  Keeping her guard high, she pulled out Lone Survivor and stabbed her into the ground to her immediate left before dragging Riku into her personal space.   When he attempted to draw back and resume his place on the field, she took the opportunity to grab at the ruffled locks of his hair and further mar them in a clenched fist.   

A hiss parted through his lips as she pulled the strands askew and quickly disheveled the rest of it.   Satisfied with that presentation, she grabbed at his wrist, and with a wrench of her arm, spun him around on his heel.   He yelped in protest, dismissed as she kicked his leg out to knock another Shadow back to its death.    

Grabbing at his other arm, she ran her nails up his skin just hard enough to leave behind red lines on his pale skin.   At the edge of his biceps, she grabbed the sleeves of his jacket and gave a hearty tug until they revealed the broad plains of his shoulders.   She made sure to rake her nails down the skin there, too, as she tore off the cloth and threw it atop another heartless zooming toward them, steering it back toward its encroaching allies. 

Once more manhandling him, he finally regained enough composure to tear his arm away just as her fingers caught at the fabric of his white undershirt and yanked it out from his pants in one foul swoop.   He clambered back with a sound not unlike a bewildered banshee.  “What are you doing?” 

Huh.  She didn’t know his voice could go that high.  Hell.  “Helping you.”

“H-helping me?!  Helping me how?!”

“Trust me, Riku.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to trust you–” he paused with another undignified shriek as she swung Lone Survivor in a sweeping slice just above where his head had been– “when you’re literally undressing me in the middle of a battle?!”

“Tell me, Riku.  You think that picture from Sora was an accident?”

“I mean, he is–”

“No, Riku.  The answer is no.” 

“But…” He trailed off, standing there idle while his brain tried to catch up and she was left to finish off the leftovers.   At least finally–finally–it appeared the scores of Heartless were finally depleting.  Finally.   

Too bad her patience was, too.   “Look.  He is playing you right now, and you’re too fucking dense to win this game on your own.  Either let me help you or lose.  It’s your call.” 

“Playing me how?”

“Holy Kingdom Hearts, how the fuck have you survived this long?”

“Hey!”  His offense fell on deaf ears.  

“I am so done with both your shits.  Come here.” 

“Kairi, I don’t–” Before he could finish his thought, she had already grabbed him by the arm and swung him around with a pivot.   Throwing him to the ground, he landed in exactly the type of stance she was hoping for. 

With his torso supported on his elbows, that startled green gaze looked at her from atop a blush that stood a prominent red against the pale white of his skin and hair.  It continued down his neck, disappearing beneath the rumpled fabric of his shirt, but was already gone where defined abs peaked out from beneath the drawn up edge of his askew undershirt. 

In the fall, his pants had slipped just the tiniest bit down his hips, allowing a sneak peak at sharp hip bones before vanishing beneath dark fabric.   With one knee slightly bent and the other stretched out, the material was pulled just tight enough to hug his legs and show what years of intense training could do to a man.  

Looking a bit scandalized and more than a little startled, she snapped a quick shot of his gaping mouth and flustered expression, then opened up his messages and attached it to a new thread.    

A shot like this really only needed two words. 

You’re welcome.

And.

Sent. 

“You can thank me later, Riku,” she said as she dropped his phone back in his lap and collected Lone Survivor back into her hand.  “We still have a few more rooms to clear before he recovers from shock and begs you to come home.”

“Wh…what did you do?”

“I won you the game.  Like I said–thank me later.”  

It wasn’t until two hours–and several dead armies–later that Kairi finally received a message from Olette.   

Unlike her normally wordy texts, this one was nothing more than a crying face holding up two thumbs up.   Not a second later, it was followed up by a picture of Sora–mouth covered by his hand and eyes wide, blush evident even with an obstruction in the way–gaping at the phone in his hand.  

You’re my fucking hero, Kai!

Better be.

>///

No, you’re not.  Not yet.

All social media was quiet for the rest of the night.   

[dreadhaus-literature]

{January Collection} #28

Stoplights

Note: I’m forgoing the weekly themes this week because we’re technically in some weird “5th week” scenario for January, so I’ll start them back over next week and they’ll run the four weeks of February like normal.

How many different ways are there to fall in love at first sight?

Gotham streets aren’t safe at night--some might argue they aren’t safe during the day--but that doesn’t stop it’s millions of residents from crowding sidewalks between well-lit skyscrapers and neon fronted nightclubs. Yet as the hours tick by and the night creeps it’s way through alleys and side streets, the foot traffic slowly starts to wane and the pickings for those with criminal intentions grows thinner and thinner. On one particularly empty street, a very distinctive vehicle makes a drifting left turn and screams its way down the uninterrupted pavement. All matte black with matching blacked out windows and a design straight from a young boy’s fantasy, this vehicle was easily distinguishable amongst even the newest of Gotham’s residents.

The Batmobile.

One would expect the interior of the Batmobile to be just as dark as the exterior and usually, they’d be right. But tonight, there was a dash of purple, a pinch of green, and a kiss of red--that split into a garish grin only for the maniacal laughter of none other than The Joker to fill the interior of Gotham’s most notable vehicle.

“Oh, Batsy, really? You never disappoint.” Joker ran purple gloved fingers over the arc of the Batmobile’s passenger door. “This is everything I thought the Batmobile would be.”

Bruce Wayne, thankfully only known to The Joker as Batman, kept his eyes on the road as he tried to ignore his companion for the evening. The Joker had escaped from Arkham, again, but thankfully Batman had been able to capture him before he’d been able to get up to...well, much. A half-dozen bodies in Joker’s wake was thankfully low in comparison to some of his other, more destructive days.

“I told you before I think an air freshener would brighten up the space in here,” Joker moved his bound hands from the door to the rearview mirror, only to cackle as Batman shoved his hands away. “Oh, don’t be that way Bats! I’m only looking out for your best interests. You’re in here so much...” Joker paused, inhaling deeply with that maniacal grin. “It really does smell like you.”

Bruce couldn’t help but grimace. “I’m normally the only one in here.”

“And here I thought you didn’t want me to feel special.” Joker leaned back in his seat, the stark white of his skin a contrast to the all-black interior. Joker really was the only color in the entire vehicle, from his purple suit and gloves to his green vest and hair, the painted grin on his face a slash of red not unlike the near decapitated victims he’d left on the sidewalk earlier. A simple message of broken bodies all arranged to spell out “Batsy”.

The Joker was nothing if he wasn’t consistently...insanely devoted to making Batman’s life as difficult as possible.

Behind his cowl, Bruce’s eyes widened. This wasn’t the first time he’d noticed Joker’s devotion to the idea of being the yin to Batman’s yang, but maybe it was time to suggest...an alternative? A hobby might be a stretch to suggest to The Joker, and he’d likely argue he already had hobbies--each more horrifying than the last--but as Bruce rounded another corner, weaving in and out of main street traffic with ease, he didn’t know what else to suggest. Something had to be able to penetrate that madness, Bruce believed everyone could be rehabilitated in some capacity. Even The Joker.

“You want to feel special? I’m not the one to give that to you.”

Joker turned, two-toned gaze locking on his unwilling companion. Strands of green hung low over Joker’s forehead as a result of Batman’s rough handling, but Joker didn’t care enough to push his hair back. He was too busy listening to that deep baritone.

“You wouldn’t have to do all this if you found something that actually gave you what you were looking for.”

“And what am I looking for, Bats? If Arkham’s quacking labcoats can’t convince me needlepoints will solve all my problems, not even your ridiculous biceps will beat that into my head.” Joker leered at Batman from the passenger seat, his spine audibly cracking as he leaned forward. “Are you going to try that again? Hmmmm? Tell me to get a hobby like the other drooling simpletons in Arkham? A lot of good that does them, you still pummel the living shit out of them, too.”

“I wouldn’t if you’d stay in Arkham and stick to your rehabilitation.”

At this, The Joker openly threw his head back, his crazed cackling filling the high-tech interior of the Batmobile. “Aren’t you hilarious tonight?! Aren’t you fucking funny tonight, Batsy! Be honest, am I the only one who sees you like this? So full of good ideas and brilliant solutions to all Gotham’s problem children?”

“The Asylum wouldn’t be there if it didn’t help.”

“Push a boulder up a hill and try to beat it down the other side and you’ll wind up one of Nygma’s stupid riddles,” Joker spat, red lips curling to reveal his distaste at the idea...of The Riddler getting to claim Batman for himself. “I prefer you as the butt of all my jokes, Darling.”

“Touching.” Bruce quipped dryly as the Batmobile tore over one of Gotham’s many bridges, the street lights casting yellow over the formidable vehicle.

“Besides, if I find something new to focus my energy on, my time and attention, all my love and devotion...” Joker walked his fingers up Bruce’s arm on the steering wheel. “Where would that leave you?”

It was a mocking question that in no way belied concern, and rather than push Joker’s hand away, Bruce turned to face Joker as he finally slowed to a stop for the first red light of the evening. Joker’s grin was knowing, as if he’d caught Batman between a rock and a hard place, but before Batman could respond and quash that, The Joker did a double-take and completely took his attention off Bruce. Joker’s fingers slowly lowered from Bruce’s arm, his entire posture rigid as he stared out the windshield like a predator scenting new prey.

“Joker.” Bruce’s baritone couldn’t pierce the veil of concentration that had Joke enraptured. “Joker!” Confused and more than a little concerned, Bruce turned his attention to the windshield and knew, in an instant, just who had caught Joker’s eye.

The crosswalk was littered with a few night-time pedestrians, some vagrants pushing shopping carts and others were gang members swapping street corners, but in the center of it all was nothing short of an angel. January chill demanded a coat and boots against the snow and icy wind, but the high-cut of the designer jacket left tantalizing view of legs encased in skintight denim right down to knee-high catwalk boots that glided over snow and ice with the grace of a model. Icy winds whispered through brilliant blonde hair that was cut short, complimenting feminine features designed to be remembered as if sculpted by the hands of a Goddess and when she turned, staring at the distinctive Batmobile as she hesitated on the crosswalk, green eyes seemed to pierce the glass to ensnare not one, but two.

“Well well well, hello you,” Joker all but purred, and though the beautiful woman had no way of seeing them through the tinted windshield he still raised his bound hands to wiggle twitching, desperate fingers at her. “How beautifully breakable she must be...my little glass doll, pretty little toy...”

Bruce hadn’t moved, hadn’t said a word even as ice dropped into his belly at the sound of Joker’s voice and his insane, muttered ramblings--but that wasn’t his only reaction. Something sharp and burning caught up his heart like a fiery fist, squeezing until a jealous rage threatened to rend the Batman’s control until he snapped and split Joker’s head on the dashboard.

Outside the Batmobile, Monica lifted her phone to snap a picture of the vehicle; the stoplight behind her was still red, casting the matte black car in a sinister light--it was a warning to her that something terrible was happening inside the car, but it was something she had no way of knowing.

The Joker was no stranger to obsession, to insane devotion that consumed him like fire, day in and day out. After all, he was self-aware enough to know what sort of relationship he had with Gotham’s Dark Knight. This, however...this was different. Whoever this was outside the Batmobile, this was someone he needed to know. He would know, oh yes, he would. Every fiber of Joker’s being was aware of her, in tune with her, so that when she moved he seemed to respond, mirroring her actions so that when her hand lowered from taking the picture, his lowered into his lap. How would she look, perched upon him? Like a doll, a gorgeous, breakable, fuckable little doll, he just knew it. His strong fingers slowly curled into fists, his tongue running over his teeth as his pulse quickened and his entire world continued to narrow until she was the only thing he saw. They say psychopaths are incapable of love but Joker isn’t afraid to laugh in anyone’s face and he knew what he was feeling; they love, he can love, it just won’t be healthy or sane. It won’t be the sort of love they write children’s books about, because nothing he wanted to do to this stunning creature was suitable for children. He exhaled in a single rush of frustration at the space separating them and in that moment, Joker made the decision that once he got his hands on her, there would never be space between them. He’d even stay in Arkham if Bruce would put her in his cell--as suddenly, his relationship with even the Batman seemed...secondary. The only thing that mattered was the beautiful young woman so close he wanted to taste her.

Bruce was having something of a similar reaction, his heart thudding a warning in his chest that betrayed he knew what Joker was thinking--because he was thinking much the same. Love and obsession go hand in hand, even if the world will fight to convince you healthy love doesn’t stem from an almost violent need to love your partner to death. Bruce didn’t know this young woman, he’d never seen her before, but in that moment he couldn’t remember what it was like to not know her. The world fell away until it was only him and her and his desperate need to protect her from the dangerous man in the passenger seat who had absolutely, undoubtedly noticed her. Bruce had never fallen in love at first sight, he hadn’t even been sure he believed in such a thing but this felt like a punch in the gut so even as the crosswalk timer began to wind down and the beautiful young woman pocketed her phone and turned to walk away, Bruce remained frozen in his seat. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to open the door, to get out, to go talk to her because if he never saw her again he’d never be okay another day in his life. He liked to think himself untouchable, it was how he continued to walk off injuries and heartbreak that would cripple a lesser man but he was on his knees for her and he didn’t even know her name. Is this how it starts? Is this what movies and novels tell stories about? The way nothing else seems as important as the one you love, the one you want, the one you need so badly breathing is difficult the further and further they get away--

“What are you waiting for?! Go!”

Bruce was ripped away from watching her walk away by The Joker’s desperate shout. The light hadn’t changed, but of course that was of no consequence to Joker; he was staring at Bruce with a wild gaze, sitting forward in his seat to gesture toward the same girl they’d both instantly fell for.

“...” Bruce didn’t know what to say; his head was continually replaying the sashay of that sinful walk so that he had to physically shake his head to clear it. “Arkham...is the other way.”

“Arkham?! You think I’m going back to Arkham, now?! Don’t be an idiot,” Joker sneered. “Follow her, Bats. Now.”

It was the first time Bruce actually, openly considered The Joker’s train of thought, and it was likely the first time their thoughts had aligned. Bruce no longer wanted to take Joker to Arkham; no, the jealous vigilante wanted to drown him in the nearest body of water and then go after the beautiful mystery woman.

“You’re the one who said I should find a new focus, a new hobby,” Joker was talking but he wasn’t looking at Batman. He was clutching the dashboard of the Batmobile with bound, gloved hands, his face near pressing against the windshield to watch her walk away. “I found her.”

“No.”

Joker didn’t move his head, but his gaze snapped to Batman, the grin slowly growing like a disease upon his pale features. “You found her too, didn’t you?”

“That’s enough. I’m taking you to Arkham--”

“So you can find her yourself? I know you, Batsy, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not. You pretend to be untouchable but I know better. You’d let her walk all over you in those boots,” Joker cackled, “because I would, too. She could trample me to death and I would thank her.”

“Enough.”

“No, no we are just getting started down this road.” Joker flatted his gloves against the windshield as if he could breach the glass and reach her skin. “I’m going to do horrible things to her, Bats. Horrible, wonderful things, until she’s mine. Until she’s so broken I’m the only one she sees but don’t worry, I’ll let you see her if you want, time to time, maybe I’ll send you pictures of her naked beneath me--”

“I said enough!”

The Joker just laughed, his eyes snapping back to his doll as she continued down the sidewalk. “What’s it gonna be, Bats? If you take me back to Arkham, you’ll lose her~”

Bruce’s jaw clenched.

“Or you could follow her home.” Joker’s gaze slowly trailed from the glass to lock with the Batman’s. “And may the best man win her, until death do us part?”

The alternative saying to one door closing and another opening, is once one chapter ends, another must begin. The Batmobile’s signal switched from right to left and the page turned, starting a fairy tale only fit for Gotham City, about an Angel with a Devil and a Bat on her heels.

[robinmoray]

Naughty Advent, Day Sixteen

Wordcount: 980 Pairing: MM, Nate/Ewan Content Tags: contemporary, established relationship, dressing up Rating: Mature Summary: Advent snippet, day sixteen. Nate can't hide his obsession.

The stars are about 3 inches in diameter, and have the texture of duck tape. They're also gold, and stuck squarely over each of Ewan's nipples, as if he has anything to hide.

The second he sees them Nate can't help touching them.

"Get off," Ewan says, but he sounds more pleased than mad.

It's strange how the pasties make him look more naked, as if by hiding his usually PG nipples he's rendered them R rated. Nate traces a finger over the edge of one firmly stuck point and imagines ripping them off. "I don't get what you're supposed to be."

"Carnivale angel," Ewan says, and sure enough, the outfit comes with a pair of glittery, white and gold wings, which Ewan keeps catching on things. Between the gold-sequined shorts and glitter-glued roman sandals he looks a lot more Carnivale than angel, and he makes it worse by dusting shimmer powder over his cheeks, down the ridges of his belly.

"Where's your costume?" he asks, eyeing Nate critically.

"I'm wearing it," Nate tells him. "I'm going as me."

"I said you had to wear something sexy," Ewan snaps, but his mouth is turning up in a grin.

"You said I looked sexy in anything."

"That was flirting. I was trying to get in your pants.This is different." He starts unbuttoning Nate's shirt. "It's political. Boys get sexy outfits, girls wear proper ones. Sadie's done it every year since she tried to find a paramedic costume that fit her and couldn't get anything except 'sexy paramedic'. It's feminist."

"It sounds like Sadie wanted an excuse to dress men in skimpy shorts," Nate says, letting Ewan take his shirt off.

"I mean, yeah. But also politics."

Ewan hands him a crop-top that barely stretches over his shoulders. It has a bright yellow bat-symbol on the chest. Something about it is obscene, as if Nate is far less dessed than he looks. Ewan makes him wear leather pants, which is more familiar, and a domino mask with pointy cat ears.

"That doesn't even make sense," Nate says, stroking one of Ewan's taped-down nipples. "Am I Batman or Catman?"

"It doesn't matter, it's ironic," Ewan tells him, squirming under his hand. "Stop it, you'll make it fall off."

They're like magnets, those pasties. His hands keep wandering back to them, worrying at the edges. Ewan bats him away absently, but Nate can't help it. He should stop, he knows. Plus this isn't the club, it's the kitchen of Sadie's apartment surrounded by Ewan's painfully hipster friends, a space in which Nate feels old and outcast, deemed irrelevant by everything from the music to the jokes, to the currently raging debate over what constitutes a slur.

Ewan cruises through it like a social glitterbomb, ignoring people he dislikes so hard they practically cease to exist. Nate trails behind him, increasingly aroused by the cut of his shorts, the swell of his ass cheeks peeking out below the hem, and the forbidden territory beneath those fucking pasties.

He corners Ewan in the bathroom. "You look so fuckable."

Ewan grins, slithering up onto the sink. "You look like a randy old goat."

"You dressed me like this," Nate says, ducking his head to nip at Ewan's chest.

"God, you're not going to stop until you get one of those, are you?" Ewan pushes himself up on his palms, pouting beautifully. "Go on, then. You can have one."

"What are your friends going to think?"

"That I let you fuck me in the bathroom. Come on, get on with it!"

Nate slides his tongue over the edge of the the tape. It comes up under his teeth, the edge teasing back as he gets a grip on it, and he slowly, slowly peels it away. Ewan's chest heaves under him, his breath hitching, and Nate tears the thing loose with his teeth, spitting it into the sink.

"Fuck," Ewan mutters, and then Nate gets his mouth over Ewan's red nipple, sucking on him hard. He wants Ewan now, wants to rip his shorts down the back and fuck him over the sink, but this is a house party and there's no time, it's not appropriate. None of this is. He has to stop.

Ewan whines, and in the hallway someone laughs in a scandalised ort of way. Nate bites Ewan hard, and comes up to nuzzle his throat.

"God, you fucker," Ewan mutters. "I can't take you anywhere."

"You can take me home," Nate says, and Ewan laughs, careless and happy.

Someone knocks on the door, and they push apart like teeagers caught in the back of a cinema, When Nate catches sight of himself in the mirror he's covered in glitter from throat to crotch, a shimmering trail that gives them both away completely. "Well, fuck."

Ewan ignores it, sticking his hair up in all directions. He stuffs the pastie in the pocket of Nate's pants, tips him a flirty wink, and opens the door.

"Hold your fucking horses, we're almost done!"

The girl in the hall laughs and pushes her way inside. Ewan catches Nate's hand to drag him out, and it's worse, now, just one pasty and a reddened star-shaped space on Ewan's chest more obscene than two stars, so much more than none.

He looks debauched. Nate feels debauched. Ewan's hand is warm and sweaty in his, and no-one cares.

Except him. When Ewan grins back over his shoulder Nate feels it in his gut, this bright hot thing that buoys him up. He wraps an arm around Ewan's midriff, fingers coming up to stroke the one remaining star.

"Oh, you're fucking kidding me," Ewan mutters, batting his hand away. "Wait half an hour, you fucker."

"I'm holding you to that," Nate tells him, grinning like his face will break.

Ewan snorts, which he counts as a yes. Good enough.

[monsterrates]

Vlad III (Fate/Apocrypha)

It’s Sunday night and I am very Tired, so one more review I don’t have to research for and I’ll get back to filling requests on Monday. Those of you not familiar with Fate/Apocrypha’s rendition of Vlad the Impaler, Buckle Up, because there’s some fucking Discussion to be had.

INTRODUCTION: This monster is the spirit of Vlad Tepes, summoned into the “Lancer” class, (Or “Berserker” class in Grand Order) based on his legendary intimidation technique of impaling defeated enemies heads on spikes.

PROS: ♥ I’ll get to the actual monster qualifications in a moment, but as far as vampires go, Vlad really is rocking some pale skin and the pale blond hair with dark shadows around his eyes really ties the whole look of “what the fuck is the sun” together. I’m actually not sure if he even has that weakness but he may as well. ♥ Now, the real Vlad was inarguably a harsh ruler, but most modern Romanian historians consider him a great ruler, whose cruel acts were often done for the sake of the country. He definitely wasn’t a vampire, and the fact that this fictionalization of him hates how his spirit has become tied to that myth is honestly super interesting and Fate/ should work more with the idea that some servant may feel weird about the myths about them, since it influences how they’re summoned. (Even though this openly contradicts other lore, whatever, this series is a clusterfuck anyway) So, rather than being some Dracula stereotype, Vlad is actually a wise leader with a good mind for tactics and a talent for sewing, apparently. (He allegedly made Elizabeth Bathory’s Halloween costume. Fans took to calling him “Uncle Vlad” in response.) In Apocrypha specifically, Vlad very much prefers to stick with his actual exploits as the Prince of Wallachia. I’ll leave off with this image of him ripping Bram Stoker’s Dracula in half.

♥ That said, if this entry is to continue, we need to talk about the stuff that qualifies him to be on this blog. That is to say, his Noble Phantasm, “Legend of Dracula,” seen above. Invoking this legend causes Vlad to transform into this.... well, bat man. To be honest, I’m actually not as big on fangs as I am a whole mouth of sharp teeth, but they ARE still sharp teeth, and I appreciate that it’s the bottom canines as well as the tops. ♥ The.... the ears.... they aren’t cool at all but I fucking love them because it really is what makes him look like a bat. Or maybe a WoW character. Either is fine. ♥ He SEEMED to get REALL BIG when this happened which is honestly the best part about this form. He just got real big and fluttery, I’m honestly not sure if he even had wings because he was mostly just this cartoonish face, a mass of swishy blackness, and blood splatter. Which is honestly pretty good and I can’t complain. ♥ Vlad assuming this form not only gave me the very Father/Son interraction of Chiron knocking Achilles out of danger and Achilles being ungrateful about it, but also Shirou’s use of Baptism Rite, and I am honestly a sucker for Fate/’s long form incantations. They are a bunch of nonsense but they always sound so cool. ♥ The fact that Vampire Vlad’s attacks seem to make blood spurt everywhere seems functionally impractical, but aesthetically it’s much better than NOT doing that. Uncle Vlad is a fashionable guy, he clearly knows what’s up.

CONS: ♥ As is becoming tradition, I’ll lead off noting that his USUAL form isn’t monstery at all, but honestly, this is a time I’m glad for it, because his vampire form is Very Silly looking, honestly. ♥ I’m all for fully red eyes, but like, with at least pupils intact. Glowing red eyes like this lose a lot of expression, and I can’t love him properly if I can’t feel his feelings. Another point against Vampire Vlad ♥ Staying vague for spoilers reasons, Darnic is heavily involved in the invoking of vampire Vlad, and he is a terrible bad man who works with Nazis, so I refuse to condone anything he does. Especially because, as I said, Vlad HATES this noble phantasm and had to be forced to use it. ♥ They changed his class to Berserker in Grand Order but didn’t change his design or personality, so now everything is just confusing. I suspect it was done to make him more differentiated from the Vlad III in Fate/Extra, but given that that one’s more overtly vampiric and rowdy, why couldn’t he have been Berserker? Uncle Vlad’s the one HOLDING A LANCE IN HIS SPRITE. ♥ Apocrypha anime had the audacity to show me this image and I almost died at the jarring juxtaposition of the actual clothes Vlad would have worn and his stupid anime bullshit design

RATINGS: MONSTRUOUSNESS: 2/10 Even with his batlike vampire design, it’s just not that monstery. But that’s just fine, he’d be happier with a low score.

FUCKABILITY: 7/10 Uncle Vlad may actually be the most fuckable of the older gentlemen in Grand Order. Shinjuku Archer is handsomer, but he is a bastard, whereas Uncle Vlad might knit you a nice sweater. (Disclaimer: I adore Shinjuku Archer, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is a bastard.)

PERSONAL RATING: 8.5/10 He may not be great at being a monster, but he’s by far the most interesting take on “Dracula” that I’ve seen. I am always a big fan of the way that Fate/ takes a lot of villains/monsters of history and looks at them through a more empathetic lens. (See also: Asterios, Medusa, and Elizabeth Bathory who, watch this space for HER review.)

[superprincesspea]

The Honey House, Chapter 19

Loose Lips Sink Ships

MASTERLIST

“If you cared about Rae at all then you’d stay away from her.”

Negan turned his head to see Timmy with his fists clenched into furious balls as he stormed down the porch to where he was waiting by the car. By the grace of God he somehow stopped the laugh that practically begged for freedom. But hell, he was trying to be fucking civilised here, he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of anyone or do anything that might start a fight that he would definitely finish.

He waited for Timmy to come to a standstill before asking, as nicely as he could, “why the fuck would I stay away from Red when she wants me here?”

Timmy’s nostrils flared so wide that Negan half expected steam to shoot straight out and fog up his glasses. Instead he just kept giving him the stink eye, “I don’t know why she can’t see right through you. You’re nothing but a sleaze ball, the only reason you helped us was because you wanted to...”

Negan straightened his spine, standing full height, “wanted to what?”

“You wanted to,” Tim swallowed hard, his words were barely audible, foreign on his good boy tongue, “fuck Rae.”

“What was that? I didn't quite catch that Timmy,” Negan held his hand to his ear, his grin impossible to control now even if he wanted to and he definitely didn’t want to.

“You know what I said,” Timmy spat.

“She’s a beautiful woman but no matter how fuckable she is I don’t risk my life for pussy. It's just the happy coincidence of being a fucking badass.”

“You don’t even know her. Not like I do.”

“You had you’re chance Timmy-too-slow, you had four long week to make your moves and get her all shacked up and settled down on your dick. Fuck me, you’ve had years.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Timmy stepped closer and Negan started to believe he was going to end up in a fight afterall, he always did have the kind of mouth that landed him fights.

“And there’s more than one way to be intimate with a person.”

“Hows that Timmy? You tossed one out while you peeped on her? That’s fucking disgusting. Am I gonna have to mark you down as some kind of dirty pervert? Peeping Tim?”

Timmy’s face blanched like Negan had hit a nail very close to the head and Negan couldn’t blame him for knocking one out over Rae, he’d knocked out more than he wanted to admit. “I don’t know how she even talks to you!” Timmy covered, not exactly denying the situation.

“Or do you think you’re intimate with Red because you chase her ass around like a lost fucking puppy?”

“It's not like that! I know her. We’ve spent entire nights just talking, I helped her build this place, I know where she went to college, what her favorite songs are, every house we’ve scavenged together. I know how she got the little scar that cuts across her jaw and how many times she failed her driver's test. And… even if I know she doesn’t look at me the way I look at her, she’s still my friend and I’m not gonna let you hurt her.”

Negan bit his tongue. Maybe he didn’t know the secrets that were locked up in Rae’s head and maybe he could never promise not to hurt her because, at his core, he was always the man that had hurt Lucille and he wasn’t sure he could be a better one. But no matter what, Negan wasn’t going to justify a single fucking thing to anyone and Timmy was reaching the limit he had for fuckers that weren’t long legged redheads.

“Good for you Timmy, you know what jersey to pick out and what album to play but here's the deal and I want you to listen very fucking closely. In a few minutes Red’s gonna to be getting in this car with me and leaving with me and you, well let's face facts, you can fuck off. It's as simple as that. You don’t like it? Tough shit because I’m here. I’m not leaving and you can't fucking make me,” he chuckled embracing the inner kid who wanted to follow that statement up with ‘nah nah na nah nah,’ it was childish but it was the truth.

Tim’s nostrils were flaring again and Negan lost his smile to erase any idea that what he said next was a joke or a false promise, “you try anything, you piss me off more than you are pissing me off right now and I can promise you won’t live to regret it.” It was almost exactly what he had said to Miguel and that had only ended one way, the only way Negan knew how to deal with troublemakers.

“Are you trying to threaten me?”

“I never try to do anything Timmy-too-slow, I’ve told you before, but fuck it I’ll tell you again. I’m not you.”

Like clockwork Rae emerged from her house with Grandma Ellie close behind.

Negan’s smile sprang back into action at the sight of them both. When they were close enough to touch his hand almost reached out for Rae’s before he thought better of it and shoved it in his pocket, “don’t worry Grandma Ellie, I’ll take good care of your Grandbaby and bring her back in one piece.” He was planning on fucking her hard but he hadn’t split a woman in two yet.

“You’d better,” Grandma warned, wary old eyes switching from himself to Rae while Negan smiled at Tim like everything was super duper at the little house on the prairie. He even winked. If Timmy was hoping to frighten him away not only was he the most delusional motherfucker that he had ever met but he was also doing the worst fucking job in the world.

///

Rae told Grandma she was going out to look for supplies just liked she’d already planned to do after checking the bait traps. The only difference in her plan was taking Negan instead of Tim and if she was honest with herself, Negan was the better partner. She’d seen the way he fought, dead or living, he was unstoppable. If there was going to be only one other person with her, and there definitely couldn’t be both Negan and Tim if she didn’t want a fight on her hands, then Negan was the one that made her feel the safest. At least in the physical sense.

Grandma headed back into the house and Tim had disappeared without her noticing so it was just her and Negan. He held open the door to the car, allowing her into the driver’s seat with a smirk that said, ‘see, I’m letting you drive I’m not always a sexist asshole,’ and Rae slid into the soft white leather with a thrill of unadulterated excitement.

This was a beautiful car. The kind of car that turned heads when you peeled down the road and it was easily the nicest car she’d ever had the pleasure of driving. She turned the key in the ignition and the engine purred to life as Negan took a seat besides her.

“Where to, Red?” he grinned as Rae pulled a folded map from her pocket before shoving it in his hand.

“You can give me directions.”

His face fell to something between disappointment and confusion but even if she wanted to let go and take a joyride with Negan this was the end of the world and a woman had to be practical. They’d take the car for a spin and they’d check out the places she’d already marked on the map. It was win win. At least for her.

“You know all work and no play isn’t fucking healthy. You should take the day off from being queen of the fort.”

“Are you a Doctor now?”

“I wouldn’t say I was a doctor but i’d happily give you a full body exam sweetheart. Just say the word...”

“Just read the map,” she said with a laugh as his outrageous flirting worked its charm.

Negan snorted, unfolding the map as they pulled onto the main road. “So… you good at taking directions Red?”

She looked at him, if he was making a joke about women being terrible at directions then she was prepared for war. Instead, he had that hazel green twinkle that lived in his eyes when they were alone. “I need to know, are you gonna do exactly what I tell you to do?”

Her thoughts went to the gutter, probably the exact destination that Negan had in mind. Was taking a ride in this car an agreement that things would progress beyond a kiss? Was that the deal she was making with herself? She still couldn’t decide. She liked the way he kissed her, but he was a difficult man to trust; confident, arrogant, an impossible flirt. She knew almost nothing about him. “That depends,” she answered, not giving anything away.

“On what?”

Rae laughed, letting out some of the nervous energy that was coiling in her stomach as she fumbled the button on the CD player to fill the car with nothing but silence that didn’t mask his need for an answer. So she played it safe again, “I don’t know. Just read the map and… behave yourself.”

“Impossible,” he chuckled and she could feel the heat of his eyes watching her before he gave up the conversation in favour of opening the glove box and flicking through his CD’s.

The destination on the map was a little one horse town, nothing more than a couple of rows of houses, a tiny convenience store and a small family doctors practice. She pulled the car up at the edge of the first house and its tall mesh fence and before they’d even had chance to climb out of the car, halfers had already began to file from the streets towards them.

Negan had his bat and she had the knife that he’d given her, the Glock on her belt was purely for an emergency. She felt a chill inch down her spine like it always did before she faced any halfers and wondered would this be it? It was morbid but it was a thought impossible to ignore after watching the world and almost everyone in it succumb to the dead.

He took the first swing, nice and easy. Killing walkers like these, slow and scattered in a wide open space was all about tactics. Don’t get cornered, don’t over exert. You had to pick them off one by one, taking as much time as you needed.

Rae picked her target, a woman, shorter than herself and wasted away like she had been one of the first to turn and had spent the rest of the time outside being eroded by the elements. Rae grabbed her shoulder, her knife sliced through the top of the skull like breaking the shell of a creme brulee. After that it was all a blur and just like the day outside of her apartment she settled into an easy rhythm with Negan, covering each others back and killing with precision.

When the street was cleared and they were safely inside the first house Negan rested Lucille on the kitchen counter, barbed wire dripping blood that collected into a sticky pool on the laminate. “Jesus Fuck baby, if I’d have a known our joyride would include facing hordes of the apocalypse I might not have fucking bothered bringing you a car,” he teased as she opened the door of the pantry to find it empty except for a half used bottle of sunflower oil and a bag of flour.

She picked the flour up, peeling open the paper to find it filled with hundreds of tiny bugs and ruined. With a sigh she threw it back on the shelf, wondering if all the fighting had been a huge waste of energy before turning to look at Negan who was grinning and as self satisfied as he ever was. “We’re almost out of food at the farm so I don’t have the luxury of taking the day off. If you don’t like this then you don’t have to come back again or be here with me right now.”

///

The way Rae snapped, the way her eyes glowed like a wild cat made him think she was going to bite his head clean off and that’s when he realised just how scrawny she’d got since he’d last seen her. It was hard to tell with the heavy coat but he could see it in her cheeks and the sharpness of her jaw. It occurred to him that Rae was the kind of person who would be first to find the food and last to eat it. It also occurred to him that he couldn't remember the last time he’d missed a meal because there wasn’t any food. “I brought you some things, it's not much but...” fuck his people and what they would think, “I’ll bring more next time.”

“No. You shouldn’t take from your people to give to mine.”

All he could think about was the warehouse full of Jacob’s supplies, piles of food now all sitting in his own stores, not to mention all the communities he had ‘working’ for him. “You’re my people. I already fucking told you that Red.”

“I know but-”

“But nothing.” He wanted to make it better, he wanted to appease the guilt he felt when he’d decided that the only reasons she wasn’t at the Sanctuary, with him and all his protection, were selfish ones. “You’re no good to me if you’re half starved. I’ll bring you food next time. I already brought you some men, they’re setting up house in the farm across the field and you’re gonna use them. They’ll help you gather supplies and keep an eye on you.”

She finished checking the last of the kitchen cupboards and gave him a pointed look, “I don’t need babysitting.”

“Well that's tough shit sweetheart. I’m not leaving you without protection. Hell, I shouldn’t have done it the last time. We both know exactly what kind of assholes are out there. I can’t always be with you but you’ll have my men and you’ll fucking like it.”

He’d brought the ones he could trust to keep their mouths shut and told them that their only job, their only fucking purpose in life, was to live across the field and keep watch on the matchstick fort at all times. Every one of them had been happy to take the job, that had been his second requirement, he didn’t want someone watching over Red that didn’t want to be there. The idea appeased his guilt a little but not all the way.

“Is it Donnie?” she said over her shoulder as she headed into the lounge.

“Donnie,” he wouldn’t call it jealousy but he wouldn’t call the feeling that swelled in his stomach entirely normal either, “you wanna tell me what's so fucking interesting about Donnie?”

Rae gave him one of her hard stares now, “is he at the house or not?”

“No, he was shot in the shoulder at Jacobs compound. He’s still not one hundred percent. Either that or he’s just one lazy motherfucker.”

“That's unfortunate,” she shrugged as she left the lounge and began to climb the stairs.

“For you or him?” he followed the sway of her ass, half forgetting what they were even discussing and half wondering why the hell he wasn’t between her thighs right now with his tongue in her mouth.

“Next time you see him,” her fingertips wrapped around the handle of the first door along the hall and she paused, staring at the wood, before sighing, “tell him he’s going to be a father.”

His gaze couldn’t help but flick instantly to her waist, the place where that kind of thing happened, the tent that had grown in his pants as he climbed the stairs lost a little steam, “a father?”

“Yes,” she swung the door open, her knife at the ready, “one of my girls is expecting a baby and he’s responsible.”

‘At least someone was having sex at the little house on the prairie,’ was the first thought that crossed his mind but he decided to keep that one to himself. “Your girl, my guy?” Negan laughed, lingering in the door as she checked out the tiny room. “Do I pay for the wedding or do you?”

“It's not funny,” she poked him in the chest as she moved to the next room, a bathroom, blue tiles and the smell of mildew.

“Oh I think it is,” he chuckled, not quite sure if he should say the next part but saying it nonetheless. “Donnie’s girl is gonna be spitting blood when she finds out.”

“He has a girlfriend?” Rae demanded her jaw clenching like she was prepared to fight Negan over the revelation.

He held up his hands with a nervous laugh. Donnie wasn’t the only one. He felt guilty as fuck for letting the other man's cat out of the bag. It made him reconsider the men he was donating to Rae’s fort and how easily a happy little snippet of information can slide so juicily from a tongue. “I mean… I-”

“Oh my god,” she threw up her hands “you men are all the same!” she began bashing open the bathroom cupboards like they were practice shots at Donny’s head.

Negan wiped his hand over his face, wondering why the hell he had said anything and partly wondering if it was because he wanted to know how she would take the information. Rae’s angry clattered searching stopped and he looked up to see a cabinet wide open to reveal one very large, very brightly coloured, impossible to miss box of Trojans. Ribbed, for her pleasure.

His throat went dry and he hardly knew whether to laugh or cry as the room filled with a pregnant pause. He could hardly take the quiet before his boots met the tiles and he walked to where she stood, leaning his body into the back of hers. This was the sort of sign he could believe in. Her ass fit perfectly against his crotch as he reached over her shoulder and picked up the unopened box, “I guess your girl won’t be needing these.”

That riled her, the red of her hair was like flames licking against her alabaster skin as she turned to glare at him, poking her finger into his chest. “She’s a teenager! Impressionable. She had it on good faith that they had and I quote”, he’d never seen such violent air quotes, “a connection.”

Negan pictured all five of his lovely wives and let's say he got a little defensive, “maybe they do. Maybe he’s unhappy with the other woman. You don’t know every-fucking-thing that goes on in Donnie’s head.”

“Is he still with her?” she stepped out of the bathroom that was suddenly cramped, all filled up with attitude.

He let her walk a few steps before following her, “I’m not his fucking stalker, I don’t exactly know his business.” All he knew was that he hadn’t slept with his wives since he’d met Rae but that didn’t mean he wasn’t married to them and lying through his teeth to her.

“Well I’m sure he had a real special connection, screwing two women at the same time.”

She opened the last door and stepped inside the master bedroom while he idled in the hallway feeling suitably put in his place and like bag of shit on a hot day. Jesus fuck, when had he become so bothered about what this woman thought about him? It wasn’t his style, he needed to go back to cracking skulls and fucking pussy. He should be enjoying the ride rather than worrying about when he would get caught.

There was a clatter, a smash of glass on a hard floor and it all happened quickly. A frenzied shadow dashed through his peripheral so quick that it didn’t register in his brain before a dead man's hands were tangled in Rae’s long ponytail, clawing towards her soft skin. Her bottle green eyes were as wide, her arms desperately flailing for her knife. She lodged it in the roamers neck to the spurt of dirty blood but it wasn’t enough to stop the attack as the man's teeth sank into her shoulder and dragged her to the ground.  

Time moved slowly, it was like Negan could feel every heartbeat as he clenched his hands to find them empty of Lucille who still sat downstairs, forgotten. He was going to lose her. Just like Lucille he was going to watch as Rae slipped away. It was all he could think about as he stumbled forward with panicked steps. He crashed into the door, scrambling through it. His ungainliness was enough to the distract the roamer and give Rae a chance to crawl away.  Negan grabbed the nearest thing to hand, a mirrored jewellery box. He slammed the corner right into the temple of the man's skull in one hard knock that split it open like an egg, all the inner goo dripping out as it slumped to the floor.

Negan’s hands were shaking almost as much as his unsteady breaths as the jewellery box slipped to the hardwood floor, filling the room with more broken glass. He didn’t know who made the first move, maybe it was both of them but suddenly Rae was in his arms, her face pressed against his chest, his buried in her hair and the sweet smell of her shampoo. He held her, tight, protective, not knowing if he was doing it for her sake or for his.

He let her out of his bear hug after a time, shrugging off her coat and pulling back the collar of her shirt to see a deep purple bruise flowering against her alabaster skin - but no open wounds. Her heavy winter coat had saved her, not him. “Rae I...” he didn’t quite know what to say or how to word the feeling that was swelling inside where the worry and terror had been, “Jesus Christ baby.” He kissed her forehead and pulled her against him again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her fingers curling into his shirt.

“It's not your fucking fault,” he nuzzled the top of her head, “I should have checked the room. I should be fucking looking after you properly.”

She looked up at him and Negan realised he never held any of his wives, in fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken comfort in another person's body without his dick being involved. It felt good.

“I don’t need you checking my rooms or taking care of me like I’m your problem. It was my fault, I was distracted. I’m sorry because... I shouldn’t have even been having that argument with you.”  

Fuck, that was exactly the kind of argument she probably should be having with him and more. He felt even worse, “Red...”

“And you’re right,” she pulled from his arms, her hair half fallen from her ponytail, a smear of old blood on her cheek, “fuck responsibilities, we deserve to have the day off and to stop worrying about everyone else all the time. ”

“Yeah?” he forced a smile. If she knew the truth then she would never look at him the way she was looking at him right now, trust and softness. He couldn’t get enough of it. He touched his thumb to her cheek before tucking her hair behind her ear. This was exactly the kind of way he wanted her to look at him. With her lips a smile that he could kiss, her freckled skin a map still to be explored. Negan was torn in two, he just hoped Rae couldn’t see the proof of it all over his face or the way his pulse was racing, not just because she was near but because he knew that one day, just like Donnie, he would get caught in all his half truths.

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