Who: Neal Cassidy and Tinkerbell When: After this exchange Where: Tink’s place What: Making chocolate chip pancakes and a surprise gift for Neal Rating/Warnings: Lowish, there's mentions of bondage and dominatrixism... and some swearing. But nothing graphic. Status: Complete!
Tink hadn’t been lying about the bull whip. Or the suit. When Neal came to the door, she answered it wearing some pretty amazing (though not the most comfortable) thigh-high lace-up boots, her cat suit, and was carrying the bull whip. It was one of her own design. Much easier to crack in the air, and quite a bit shorter than your average whip, too. Since Tink was such a little girl, she needed a whip that was scaled down. Tink didn’t own any make-up, or else she’d have tried to put on some dark eyeshadow or something. As it was, the suit would have to do.
“Are you gonna make me pancakes?” She asked with a smirk, dangling the whip at her side.
Holy fucking shit.
Was Neal going to make Tink pancakes? Was he going to make her pancakes? Yeah. Yeah, he’d make her pancakes. After he nearly dropped the bag he was carrying, just a small one because he’d stopped to get the actual chocolate chips part of the equation on the way over. He held onto it, however, edging past her into the apartment but first grabbing her waist to pull her close and plant a kiss on her. And also drink in the sight of her in bondage gear.
“I kinda want to fuck you first,” he admitted, and didn’t sugarcoat it - when a lady answers the door in latex and holding a whip, you didn’t need to refer to the act as anything but a dirty bump and grind. “But yeah, pancakes.” They’d get to the fucking. Later.
It was an adorable request; only Tink would mask a booty call under the guise of pancakes but she likely knew he’d make her some - so she’d win either way. “Was this the gift you were talking about? I have to make pancakes while you whip my ass?” Sounded fun, he thought, as he went into the kitchen.
Ohhh Neal kisses. Totally worth the uncomfortable boots and stretchy clothing. Tink returned his kiss before closing the door behind him, then brandished the whip in what she hoped was a sexy way. Yes, booty call. Not very subtle, was she? Hey, Tink was new to all of this stuff. This… having someone for a booty call stuff. She laughed, maybe breaking down the dominatrix demeanor with the tinkle of her laughter, and shook her head. “Pancakes first, Mister. I’m hungry.”
She wrapped the whip around his middle to ‘drag’ him toward the kitchen. “Get to work, Slave.” Teasing. “Oh. No. Here.” Once they were in the kitchen, Tink picked up a key from the kitchen table. It was on a Lego keychain (Donatello the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle in Lego Miniature form) but other than that there was nothing special about it. Just a silver colored house key. “I wanted you to have this.”
Geez. Neal laughed as he was ensnared by the dominatrix fairy, willingly going to rustle her up some pancakes with all the fixin’s. She had syrup and whipped cream, he hoped. This was going to be a teeth-rotting calorie fest, but they’d work those off. He’d just set out the rest of the ingredients for flapjacks from scratch when she handed him the housekey. Needless to say, he was a little surprised.
“It’s beautiful,” he grinned teasingly. “You had it made just for me?” Or she’d given him the spare, either one. “Thank you,” Neal added, and leaned in for another kiss. “I’ll get you one too. For my apartment.”
Honestly, Tink was trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal while to her it was a huge deal. Her heart was thundering and she was trying to watch him carefully for a reaction while she was trying to play it cool. It came off as awkward. She wasn’t very good at subtlety. But then he kissed her, and that was a bit of a relief.
She blushed. “Well, I made it myself. I have my own metal lathe.” She explained. Of course she did. She was Tink. “Okay. I mean, you don’t have to? I just… I really like it when you’re here. That’s all. And you can come here whenever you want to.” It was probably more romantic and heartfelt than a woman in dominatrix gear holding a whip usually got.
Tink had her own metal lathe and she was blushing about it. How sweet. Neal tucked the key into his jeans pocket and abandoned the pancake ingredients to sweep her up into his arms - well, to pull her nearer and kiss the pink in her cheeks, then along her jaw and on her neck, rumbling in his growly way and leaving the tinge behind from his facial scruff. The words were something like, “you’re so hot,” because it was so fucking true, but then he pulled back and looked at her with dark eyes.
“You can come to my place whenever you want, too. What’s mine is yours,” he insisted. Even her toothbrush was there. A relic, a mark of pride. It was important!
The scruff on his face brushing against her skin was probably what brought about the goosebumps. Though, it may have been the feel of his soft, warm lips against her sensitive flesh. Either way, they erupted all down her arms and over her chest, and she shivered gently at the feel of his breath against her neck. She didn’t always feel so hot, but right now she was damn proud of herself for eliciting this sort of response from him.
“Okay,” she responded, eyes bright and grin wide. “Good. Now... Pancakes.” She said, withdrawing from his arms. She lifted the whip. “Or, do I need to persuade you that it’s time to cook?”
Neal almost laughed because oh fuck, she was serious and was going to whip him, wasn’t she? It was just so unexpected coming from her, and if anyone had told him Tink would be threatening him in a specially-designed latex suit he’d have fallen over from shock. Sort of was about to anyway, but not in a bad way. No, in a ‘my fantasies are coming truuuuue’ sort of way.
“Alright, alright,” he held up his hands in surrender. “Pancakes. I’m working on it right now. What’s our safe word?” he asked as he cracked the eggs, going to whisk them with a fork. “Pixiedust?”
It only took a couple of twists to wrap the whip into a small bow-type loop, and then it was set aside. She wasn’t really planning on using the whip. She could crack it in the air easily, but putting it against skin? Maybe playfully. Probably not at all. “Pixiedust works. Though, it hits a little close to home, don’t you think?” She grinned as she leaned her hip against the counter, watching him work. She shook her shoulders a little and her wings sprung out from specially designed slits in the suit.
“Besides, I don’t want to distract you too much. I wouldn’t want eggshells in my pancakes.” She teased.
“Is the safeword supposed to hit close to home? Or be completely random? Maybe it should be...onomatopoeia.” Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Neal Cassidy did not know a ton about these types of 50 Shades things - so he was mostly joking. The dry ingredients, he began to mix those together and then preheated the griddle with a bit of butter.
And the view while he was making pancakes? Not bad at all. Hot fairy girlfriend in latex, he’d take it.
Whatever Neal knew about this Fifty Shades thing was about a thousand times more than what Tink knew. She was just sort of… playing. Testing the waters? It was probably a really good sign that she felt comfortable enough around Neal to be playful and experimentory. Experimentory? Whatever the word was for that. It meant she wasn’t embarrassed--not enough to make her stop.
“I like Onomatopoeia better.” Tink responded with a nod. She stretched her wings, then gave a little flutter. Some Pixie dust fell from them and landed on the floor around her. “Good call, babe.”
The wings were distracting, almost as much as Tink herself, but not in a bad way. Just the sparkle and shimmer of them, and the pixie dust. That reminded him... “I gave Sev some of your dust, but then things exploded - “ With the sleeping curse and all, you know, no big deal. Just your usual OC crazy train. “So hopefully he’ll have a chance to look at it soon and give his expert chemist’s opinion.”
Wet and dry ingredients mixed (with the addition of milk chocolate chips), the griddle hot enough, he attempted a heart shape with the first bit of pancake batter. It...didn’t go so well. Looked lopsided, but it was the thought that counted? “I suck at the shapes, baby,” Neal pouted. Puppy eyes.
“Oh. Oh, well, that’s great. I can’t wait to hear what… he thinks? You know, as an expert. I imagine he was busy with Daisy’s birthday, anyway.” Tink said. Hearing what the Dust was would be good… but it was a little nerve-wracking, too. What if it was something… weird?
Tink fluttered over to the griddle to stand next to him and look down at the shape. She gave a little chuckle. “That’s okay.” She leaned over to kiss his cheek. “It tastes the same, anyway.”
He slung his arm around Tink’s waist and planted a kiss in her hair when she was close enough, then let go to flip the sad, squashed heart and let it brown evenly on both sides. “I’ll let you know what he says,” Neal promised. His second attempt at a pancake didn’t go much better, when he tried a heart. However, they would taste damn delicious.
“C’mere, dominatrix fairy.” The cupboard opened and he grabbed a couple of plates to plop the pancakes onto. “I’ve done your bidding, now we just need syrup.”
At the kiss to her hair, her wings gave another little flutter and a grin spread across her lips. She nodded. “Good. Thank you.” And then she let him have some space so he could plate the pancakes, and moved to the fridge to get the syrup and whipped cream. When it came to waffles, she’d eat Eggo, but she couldn’t stand fake maple syrup. She had to have the real stuff. Straight from New England trees.
“Syrup I have. And…” She held up the whipped cream and wiggled it at him. It was in an aerosol can.
The spray can was taken by Neal and the top pressed - just enough so he could get a nice gush on Tink’s face, nothing major. It was enough whipped cream for him to kiss off amidst her shrieks, probably, and the thought of it made him grin as he went in for the kill. “That’s probably gonna earn me a whipping, isn’t it?” he teased. Her rebellious slave! Oh no!
Right, pancakes. Pancakes and syrup, see, he could remain focused on the task at hand - which was eating these suckers.
Tink was decidedly distracted by the kissing off of whipped cream. She was grinning, stole a quick kiss and could taste the sweetness on his lips. Her response came with a smirk. “Probably.”
But then there were pancakes. Tink moved to the table and sat, folding one leg over the other and bouncing her ridiculous boot in the air. “We’ll just have to see if the pancakes make up for it.” With enough chocolate, syrup and whipped cream? It didn’t really matter what the pancakes tasted like. Once they were served, Tink started eating with gusto.
He hoped his attempt at delicious breakfast-or-anytime-foods made up for his insubordinate behavior! Though Neal would probably never forget the image of Tink in dominatrix gear, eating pancakes at the table. Hanging out. Like it was completely normal. Well, maybe for them it was. She was really the best girlfriend ever, wasn’t she? One day he’d probably put a ring on it. Like, you know, down the road when he had enough time to save up for something not found in a gumball machine or at Wal-Mart.
For now, he was good with dominatrix fairy pancakes. And the newly made housekey.