#and ready to face whatever's in store

[illegiblehandwriting1]

Legend: *wakes up*

Legend:....

Legend: don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cryyyyyy...

[justwinginglife]

The LADS Men React To You Saying You Can't Have S*X Because Of Mismatching Underwear

NSFW WARNING

Sylus

Sylus knows in an instant that you’re messing with him but he plays along, a sly smirk sitting pretty on his lips. “Oh NO- your underwear set doesn’t match? Whatever shall we do?” After clicking a few buttons on his phone, he stands to grab his car keys (one out of many).

“Wait! What are you doing, where are you going?” You ask, brows furrowing. The sudden change in the atmosphere has you feeling like, at any moment, you might get whiplash. One minute, he’s kissing up your neck, squeezing at your thighs, grinding his raging erection into your crotch, and the next, he’s throwing on his jacket, zipping his pants back up, and getting ready to leave. 

“You mean where are we going, kitten.” He speaks like it’s only obvious. 

Your eyes narrow in suspicion. “Why are we leaving? I thought you just wanted to have sex not two seconds ago.”

“Of course, dearest, but we can’t have sex if you’re feeling embarrassed, now can we? So I thought I’d just buy the nearest lingerie store and we could go pick out whatever you like.” 

You choke on your spit. “You did WHAT?”

“I said I bought the store. So let’s go.” His eyes are daring you to continue with your little charade.

“Well I…I kinda wanted to stay home tonight.” You say weakly. You know you’re making a pathetic case for yourself, but he’s really not allowing you the wiggle room to be more convincing.

“Then allow me to have all of their stock delivered to the house. Unless… you think that the mismatching underwear is no longer an issue?” 

Oh, this son of a bitch. “You… you really don’t have to do all of this just for me.” You say with an awkward laugh. He knows you’re all out of moves and you’re just pivoting at this point. He knows and he has the audacity to be amused. 

“Oh, but I did, kitten. I wouldn’t want to overlook this very important issue. What’s important to you is important to me.”

“It’s, uh, not actually that important…” You confess meekly. 

“Say that again, sweetie?” He cranes his head to hear you better but you know damn well he can hear you just fine.

You glare at him. “I said it’s fine.”

He chuckles, sweet satisfaction clear on his face. “So then. Does this mean we can pick up where we left off?”

Caleb

You’ve been teasing Caleb all day. 

Dancing into his field of view with that low neckline of yours, wearing a dress that’s so short, it’s a wonder it’s covering anything at all. Touching him here and there, your fingers grazing his skin with a feather-light touch, trailing up his biceps, or down his back, before flitting away like you’d never been there in the first place.

So, of course, after hours of edging him towards an excruciating erection, his self control still intact (though holding on by mere splintered pieces), you decide to reward his good behavior. You straddle him on the couch, and slowly begin to slide your hips back and forth, dragging your clothed cunt across the admittedly-impressive bulge in his pants.

He swears he’s seeing heaven, when you finally allow his aching cock some much needed friction. He’s not proud to say that a little dry humping is all it takes to get him coming into his pants, but he’s sure you’ll continue to show him such endless bliss as the night goes on that he won’t even remember how many times he’s come, let alone that the first time was in his underwear. His head dips forward, steadying itself on your shoulder as he allows the wave of euphoria to wash over him. 

But the second the wave has come and gone, his arousal is already flaring back up in his gut, ready for round two, round ten, round however much you want. All he can think about is how perfect it’ll be when he finally sinks himself inside you, your wet heat enveloping him until all he can feel is you. He doesn’t even think that maybe you’re more devious than he gave you credit for.

After he’s come, you retreat almost immediately, pulling yourself off of him.

He whines pathetically and he fumbles as he attempts to grab hold of you.

“Baby, we can’t tonight.” You say, innocent as ever.

He tries to keep the disappointment from his voice, tries to restrain his very evident need for you, but desperation is quickly rising within him. “Why not?” 

You try to keep the smirk from your lips. “It’s just…I’m not…”

“You’re not what, love? Not feeling well? Not in the mood?” He hopes you don’t notice how badly he just wants you to spit it out. 

“I’m not wearing matching undergarments tonight. So we can’t.” And there it is. The goal you’ve had all night. The little trick you couldn’t wait to play on him. You’re thrilled to see how he’ll react.

His eyes darken in an instant. “Oh, you little minx. You know what you’re doing to me, don’t you?” His tone has dropped to a low growl. 

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” You say, feigned ignorance dripping from your lips. 

He gives a short laugh. “Sure you don’t. Well, if your mismatching underwear is the only issue-” He begins to kiss down your neck harshly, not bothering to take care where he leaves his marks, “-I’ve got just the solution.” His fingers find your dress’s zipper with expert precision and before you can even process that he’s taken ahold of it, the dress is already laying in a pile on the ground. Along with your bra and panties. 

“There. All better. Now your underwear matches- they’re both on the damn floor.” 

Rafayel

You’re starting to think that you lie just a little too well.

You had only meant to tease Rafayel when you had told him that the reason you couldn’t have sex tonight was because you were embarrassed that your bra didn’t match your underwear, but you didn’t expect him to take you completely seriously. What was even more unexpected was that he would go on to give you an entire art lecture in the process.

“Take Picasso, for instance. Brilliant artist. One of a kind. You know him, of course you do, everybody knows him. His work is asymmetrical, and yet you don’t see anybody telling him that his work isn’t beautiful because it doesn’t match.”

“Raf-”

“And take my work. My work isn’t always symmetrical either, but would you tell me that I’m anything less than a true genius? No, because I am. See?”

“That’s besides the point-“

“The point, cutie, is that you’re gorgeous no matter what you’re wearing. It’s okay that you didn’t plan a matching outfit today. Some of nature’s most stunning scenes are spontaneous. You wouldn’t complain to the sunset that its pink doesn’t match its orange, would you?”

“No, but I-”

“Exactly. So it doesn’t matter to me if you’re wearing mismatching underwear; you could be wearing a trash bag and I’d still want you. Do you understand now, cutie?”

“Raf, baby, there’s nothing to understand, I was just jo-“

“Okay, if you don’t understand, let me put it in simpler terms for you. I’m hard for you regardless. That make sense now?”

When he puts it that bluntly, you really want to jump his bones. At this point, you figure you might as well. It’s useless to try and explain to him that you were only joking- not after he’s given you such a lengthy (though thoughtful) monologue. Though he’s a bit dense today, he’s still the same sweet Rafayel you fell in love with. So you think you’ll reward him for his kindness.

“You know what, baby? You made me feel so much better, thank you. I think, to show you just how much better I feel-” You strip yourself naked for him and his jaw drops, his eyes hungrily raking over your bare form, “-I’ll even let you come inside me tonight. What do you think?” You purr seductively.

You really didn’t have to try so hard to seduce him.

He’s already dropped his pants and begun stumbling towards you, rapidly hardening cock in hand.

Xavier

You’re in the middle of a very heated makeout session with Xavier when you decide to pick on him a little. You can tell where this is going, but you want to drag it out a little longer.

“Xav-” You whine breathlessly. “I think we should,” You return another one of his hungry kisses, “Probably stop for the night.” 

He pulls back to examine you. He can’t tell if you’re messing with him or if you’re genuinely not in the mood. Of course, if you want to stop, he’ll stop. He can just fuck his hand later; he’s not so selfish that he’d make you do something you don’t want to do. But just in case he did something wrong, he decides to ask. “Any particular reason you want to stop?”

“It’s just…” You bite your lip, hoping it makes you appear timid, when really you’re trying not to grin. “My bra and my underwear don’t match. I’m a little embarrassed to show you.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Oh, is that all? Feel free to change them then. I won’t look.” Before you can even respond that it’s a joke, he’s turned his back to you to give you your privacy.

You shake your head, smiling softly at his back. You didn’t expect him to be so sweet. You may as well strip naked while he’s allowing you the time; you had planned to have sex with him anyway. 

What the both of you don’t realize is that your bedroom’s full length mirror is angled just right so that he can still see you even when you’re behind him. He looks up only to get a perfect view of you undressing. When he realizes he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to, he starts to look away. But then he catches a glimpse of your mismatching underwear. Cherries decorate the soft material of your panties, while your bra is littered with little bows all the way around. Heat surges through his groin and he realizes that for some reason, this combination of mismatching underwear is doing something to him. 

You finish pulling your shirt off all the way and reach back to unhook your bra. “You know, I appreciate you being so understanding, my love, but I have to admit- I was completely kidding about not wanting to have sex just because my underwear didn’t match.” 

In an instant -you honestly don’t remember him even having the time to turn all the way around- he’s at your side, gripping your wrist tight and locking you in place. “That’s a relief. Now you don’t have to take off any more.”

You raise a curious brow at him. “What do you mean? Didn’t you want to have sex? I kinda have to take my underwear off for that.”

“No. You don’t.” His tone is low and thick with lust. “The undergarments stay on.” Before you know it, you’re pinned down to the bed.

You don’t know if it’s his teleportation ability or just his pure, unadulterated need, but he seems to be moving rather hastily today. You’ve barely even had time to blink before he’s slipping his cock under your bra, fucking your cleavage while it holds his cock in place. 

Something about you, the girl who always settles for function over fashion, wearing the cutsiest, girliest underwear he’s ever seen makes him harder than he’s ever been before and he’s not stopping until he’s staining this particular set in his cum. 

Zayne

“So we don’t strip naked then. That doesn’t mean I can’t still make you feel good.”

When you originally decided to play this joke on Zayne, telling him that you were feeling just a little too shy today to reveal to him your mismatching underwear, you thought he would see right through your little act. This is the man who has known you almost your entire life, after all.

But after you’d come so many times IN YOUR GODDAMN UNDERWEAR ALONE, all because he had insisted on tending to your needs even with your clothes on, after your clenching walls began to feel rather bruised, your clit increasingly more and more overstimulated with each passing second, as he fingered you through the (soaked) fabric of your clothes yet again, you were starting to regret this decision to mess with him. 

You tried to confess so many times, to tell him you’d been lying, to beg him for his cock instead, but it was almost like he knew what you were trying to say, because he’d kiss you so deeply until you were so dizzy from lack of breath that you forgot what you wanted to say, and then he’d dry hump you until you forgot how to even breathe in the first place. 

When you finally stutter out a pathetic, “P-please Z-Zayne…can’t t-take it anymore. Wanna f-fuck you,” Your hips thrusting desperately against the unsatisfying, thin air, he grins.

In that moment, you realize he’s known you’ve been lying all along. 

He leans over to you and you think he might kiss you. That, or scold you. But either result turns you on, so you hold your breath, waiting for him to respond.

He merely peers down your shirt before tugging your pants down slightly to confirm something. “So your underwear does, in fact, match. What an interesting development. Now then…how should I punish you for such dishonest behavior?”

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @tbaluver @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi

[clowningaroundmars]

page full o' hobies 🎸

top pose inspired by @spectra-bear

process pics under da cut ↓

[militaryapple]

SHE'S SWEET LIKE CANDY!

synopsis. you spot something when you're out at the mall with tara. you cant help but think about your boyfriend who's at work doing the best he can, so why not give him a little gift?

cw. fem! reader, unprotected, praise, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, face fucking, cunnilingus, making him whine, petnames, make him beg for you girl, well its caleb so he a lil nasty icl, nicest I've written caleb

add ons. THIS LITERALLY CAME INTO MY HEAD WHILE LISTENING TO THE SONG OHH MY GODDDD GUYSSSHEBDHEB

wc. 2.9k

it wasn’t everyday you wore lingerie. actually, you didn’t even wear it. you thought the clothing was cute - sexy even! it just.. wasn’t something you were much into. well that was until you saw the set hanging up in a store you passed with tara. you couldn’t take your eyes off it - everytime you found yourself circling around back to the store at the mall, tara now being annoyed with you.

“i thought you weren’t that into lingerie?” she nudges you. she was right— you weren’t, but the thought of you putting it on, spreading yourself on the bed, waiting for him to come home and devour you. the sensation. you needed to buy this - it was a sign.

“i wasn’t” you retorted. sure, you didn’t really think of yourself as the type of woman to put on a show, but you couldn’t help but think about how he’d look at you. maybe he’d slowly glide your hands over the baby doll shaped dress, his hands would gently fondle your tits until your moaning for him - maybe his mouth would kiss all around you while he told you how gorgeous you looked in your newly bought clothes.

you needed that matching set.

“but trying something new wouldn’t hurt, right? it’s pretty cute too ‘tars” you nudged her back. your eyes flickered away from the glass that so proudly showed off the matching set going to your friend. tara glanced from you, to the set, back to you. her eyes scrutinizing you, her gaze watching your movements, face and even posture. it went until a moment after she moved her hands to her mouth. her face contorting into a shocked expression.

“you’re trying to impress - no, show out for someone!” tara yelled in a hush. this wasn’t a question, it was pure fact to her. oh how you hated how correct she was too, fine. you were trying to show out for someone. she wasn’t going to know that. she wouldn’t let you live it down. for sakes it was for caleb after all! part of you thinks he does deserve a little sweet treat for all the hard work he’s been doing for you.

“whaaaaaat? no! what makes you think that? i’m just.. getting more comfortable in my skin y’know?” you tried to avoid her gaze. it was scary how accurate she was on most things, like, crazy accurate. maybe you should cut her off from those spiritual classes, they were obviously working horrible wonders for her.

tara tried to hide the snicker that was coming from her. her hands returning back to her sides before she grabbed your wrist. “fine fine, let’s go get you fitted in the set you’re eyeing. i’ll pay for it - think of it as a celebration! i’ve been waiting for this moment!” you could only sigh.

this was going to be a long while.

when you finally returned home, you thanked tara before rushing up to your door and making your way inside. you could admit, you were partly excited. you couldn’t see yourself fully in the set but based off tara’s inputs you looked ‘totally sexy!’ whatever. you checked your phone and looked at the text that caleb sent you, your face in a smile.

“be home soon pip’s! can’t wait to see what you bought back home! hopefully you got me a gift :)”

oh, you got him a gift. you sure did. you couldn’t help the excited kicks you did before getting the house ready. you started the shower and made sure to get your good razor and body scrub. your washing routine being extra careful. you got out, now scrambling to dry off and get the set.

it took you a minute but you got it on, you rushed back to your bathroom and started to do your hair and makeup, making sure it was subtle but enough to give you a little boost. oh and were you were feeling yourself. anxiously, you made your way to your mirror. your gaze glancing over your body, your face, hair. you looked put together.

you giggled to yourself, striking a pose or two and taking a photo. did you want to surprise caleb when he got home? yes, yes you did. but could you contain yourself? no. no you couldn’t. you set up your room and cleaned up the house a bit before making your way to your bed and settling down. you whipped out your phone and sent a pretty little text to caleb.

“i got you a little something on the side too, wanted to show you now. i can’t wait til you come home, hurry :(” - 1 photo attached.

your bit your finger anxiously. he read it. no response. your mind wandered, what if he didn’t like it? is he weirded out now? did he not want to see you like this? god were you anxious. you couldn’t stand waiting; especially since he didn’t reply to you.

it didn’t take long until you heard the rattling of your door, your head perking up as you got back into the position you were in. he’s home. you scrambled around while the rattling stop and sounds of footsteps filled the air, getting closer and closer to your room.

your door creaked open, caleb stood there, his gaze unwavering from you. his eyes fixed on you while a smile creeped on his face. “so i didn’t imagine it.” he said softly. “welcome home, honey.” you said back oh so sweetly.

caleb didn’t take any time when it came to you, his hands finding their way around your body, his lips kissing every part of you that he could feel. how euphoric this was for both you and him. you were so sweet for him, he could almost cry. “so,” he said whispering, his head digging into your neck. “what made you get dolled up for me? hm? did i do something good?” his voice was intoxicating. how he spoke with such urgency but he was so gentle.

“hmm.. well you’ve been working so hard for me. you deserved something.” you smiled, your hands finding his. caleb felt like he could melt. just for him? for working like he’s always done? oh fuck, it was enough to make his cock twitch with eagerness.

“who am i to deny something so sweet? especially since it’s a gift from you.” he grabbed your hips, turning you over so he could see you on top of him. you were beautiful. his hands roamed around your body, he couldn’t get enough of you. your curves, the way you swayed your hips, how you arched so naturally for him, how you were made for him.

your hands found their way to his face, and he couldn’t help but lean into them letting out a soft moan. “you look really pretty, and I mean ‘fuckin gorgeous.” his words were shaky. his eyes dawned on you. your hands making their way to his jaw, then to his lips. glazing over them slightly before you bent down to give him kisses. such a good idea to wear lipstick.

your lips stained his body, it was proof. proof on how you owned him, how he was yours forevermore. caleb couldn’t help but snicker. “you having fun there?” and you nodded. you reached for his uniform, undoing it and tossing his clothes to the side. your pussy throbbed at the sight of him like this. he was so fucking pretty, like a puppy. the way his eyes looked up at you in a way where he was pleading you to let him ruin your body. the way your lipstick matched such a perfect shade for his skin and how messy his lips looked.

he looked fucking messy, and you haven’t even started.

caleb gripped your thighs, “cmon baby don’t be like that, I’m dying here.” his hips rolling - sending a shiver down your spine. you let out a moan, your hands running down his exposed chest. “i know baby” you coo. your hands moving back, finding his cock and palming it through his pants. you could drink up this sight of him and it was one of the days where his robotic arm was exposed? you were in heaven.

“fuck, fuck fuck fuck, that feels good - real good, please,” his hips bucking up. your hands sliding away while his moans turned into pleas. caleb squeezed on your hip. “no, no no no please baby let me, I’ve been a real good boy.” oh fuck did that do something to you. his face soft with an sad expression. he was so so cute you couldn’t help but tease him. your cunt throbbed from negligence. you leaned down and kissed him again, smiling. “then be a good dog and eat me out.”

you settled your body on his face, not sitting fully but enough for him to taste you. caleb let out a scoff before grabbing your thighs and tugging you down, pushing all your weight on him. “oh cmon baby, i wanna taste all of you.” and that’s what he did. caleb licked your folds and sucked on your nub, his tongue licking your slit and drinking up your arousal. he was eating you out like a starved man.

your hands gripped on his hair, your hips swayed on his lips to his nose. oh fuck did he feel good. caleb used his hands to feel your bra. it was nice, pretty. it suit you so fucking well, fuck you were his pretty girl. he whimpered, allowing you to ride his face. what’d they say? save a plane & ride a pilot? whatever it was, this was fucking it.

caleb placed sloppy kisses around your entrance, using his evol to keep you down while he was able to continue touching you. “if you keep moving baby, i can’t eat my dinner properly.” he chuckled. his tongue finding itself inside your dripping cunt, you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan. fuck he was a natural. you twitched while calebs mouth worked wonders on you.

“caleb — caleb ‘m gonna, oh oh please make me cum make me cum,” you whined. his mouth picking up speed as he kissed and licked you. fuck did he make you stupid. caleb placed his last kiss before he felt you twitch. his evol letting you move freely while he flipped you both. “look at your panties baby, they’re all soaked now.” he teased.

you couldn’t help but push him a little. caleb snickered before removing his gloves, his fingers now freed while he kissed your chest. “gonna make you cum a few more times ‘kay?” he smiled. before you could respond his fingers disappeared and your stomach does flips. his fingers big, and long, making your toes curl. “oh fuck, you’re so good caleb — so fucking good for me.”

caleb couldn’t deny, hearing you praise him make his cock throb. he wanted to make you feel like heaven and earth combined. his fingers curling upward making your gasp for air, his thumb rubbing circles on the nub of your clit. “aw baby, i really make you feel that good?” he teased. you grabbed his arm nodding and whining. you wiggled under him - your eyes glistening.

“gonna cum? cmon say you are.” he coo’d. you moaned, body shaking as you tried to at least form a sentence. “yes yes yes ‘m close please please please” god you sounded pathetic under him. he loved it. your walls clenched on his fingers as he stretched you and kissed you. “okay, cum for me then pretty baby.”

you did exactly that. coating his fingers with your juices. you felt weak, and caleb sat up. “what about me baby? i need to cum to.” he said sadly. his cock practically imprinting on his pants. you couldn’t just leave your dear boyfriend like this. you got up, pulling on his waistband and revealing his dick. did he seem.. bigger???

“from all the teasing you’re doing to me. not to mention this cute little outfit you got on.” his face wide in a smile. his tip was swollen, pink and veiny. curling up just enough to hit every one of your sweet spots. you saw the pre-cum that leaked from his slit and you couldn’t help but give it kisses.

“oh, fuck. that’s it baby.” caleb moaned, his hand making its way around your hair, and rubbing your chin.

you looked up at him, swirling your tongue around his tip. fucking perfect. was all he was able to think before you used your other hand to start pumping his cock.

he was big, it took a minute for you to relax your lips and jaw around his head, but once you felt okay; your mouth slammed on him. caleb cried out when he felt you start sucking him. his hands that were once gentle and soft now rough; grabbing your hair and bucking his hips up.

you let your tongue relax while caleb grabbed your head and rammed his cock in your mouth, abusing your throat. “i can’t help it ‘m sorry please you feel so good - so tight.” he pleas. your eyes on him while he looks completely drunk off you. he was such a pretty fucker.

his cock tightened, and your throat slacken. caleb looked down at you and moved his hands to your face. plugging your nose.

it didn’t take long for caleb to be slamming into your mouth aimlessly. his hips spurt and a ‘pop!’ sound comes from your mouth, caleb’s dick hitting your face while he came all over it. you gasped and moan. “thaaaat’s it pretty girl.”

caleb moved behind you, his hands cupping your bra then moving to the straps, undoing the clips and taking the bra off. “the sheer gown stays on.” he kisses your neck. “you look so pretty in it.”

he pushed you down gently, bringing your ass up and aligning his cock with your entrance. caleb bit his lip, “need you to relax up a little okay?” he asked, and then he eased his way in. you felt so fucking warm. the way you clenched around his cock so nicely - how he stretched you even after prepping you. it was delicious.

caleb thrusted into you, hitting your cunt in all different ways. his pace picking up speed while he groaned. “got all pretty for me, do you know how hard it was to keep my composure at work?” he whined, snapping his hips back to you. his abs rocking against you. “couldn’t even jerk myself, fuck fuck, I came home as soon as I could just for you baby.”

he was mean. his tip kissing your cervix over and over again making you into a wobbly slobbering mess of cries and moans. caleb brought his hand down right between your thighs, rubbing circles over your already crying cunt. “reeeaal nasty girl you got here baby.” he teased you, placing a kiss on your back.

caleb grabbed your hips, slamming into you continuously. you couldn’t help but rock your hips attempting to match his pace. fuck did he like the view. his pretty baby, who once was dolled up now defiled into a pathetic whiny mess. “caleb - caleb,” you whined in your pillow. makeup smearing everywhere, nice one. now you have to buy a new pillow set.

you felt yourself getting close.

it was coming fast.

you lifted your head, moaning at the feeling of caleb’s cock burying itself back into your walls and out again. euphoric. “i feel weird. so weird baby please —”

caleb hushed you “i know baby it’s okay, im close too, yeah? come on baby come on.” he coo’s. caleb’s hips snapped and you felt a little ‘pop!’ and then a nudge near your stomach. he was in. fully. you moaned and gripped your sheets, tears streaming down your face as caleb fucked you like he was in heat.

caleb nipped at your tits, he fucking loved them. how perky and sensitive they were, how everytime he kissed them you whined in response, hell, caleb loved everything about your body. when it came to you he wanted to touch and explore you. his pretty doll.

he grabbed your arms, bringing you up and kissing your neck. “cum for me baby, cmon you can do it.” he hummed. oh how those words felt like heaven for you. it wasn’t until you started twitching as caleb now thrusted slower into you, and then it happened.

you sprinkled out a clear liquid on his cock. twitching and moaning while it dripped everywhere, you panted and whined. your body relaxing as you collapse while caleb came right inside your cunt. grunting, watching the little show you gave him.

caleb pulled out of you in awe. “did you just squirt all over me?” he teased you. you heaved, letting out small “m sorry”s. caleb could only chuckle at the sight.

“it’s fine baby, it was a show for me. felt good!” he smiled. caleb could see you were tapping out, breathing heavily as your lingerie was now messy with sweat, cum and what he liked to call ‘pussy juice.’ he smiled, his eyes looking over you and then placing a kiss on your cheek as you flopped to your side.

“i’ll get the water running, this was a nice gift princess. i might start buying you more lingerie sets from now on.” he chuckled before walking out the room.

yeah, maybe you could get used to this.

[classyrbf]

YOU'RE PREGNANT! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...how the jjk men(toji, gojo, geto, nanami, choso) act when you’re 9 months pregnant and ready to pop

INFO...jjk men x fem!reader, fluff, comfort, reader is pregnant (obvi), mention of mood swings, cravings, emotional reader, jjk men being great dads

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

TOJI

toji has already dealt with this kind of thing before when it came to megumi, but it’s been so long that he’s almost forgotten what it was like. You’re waddling around the house, a stank look on your face as you stare at him. “Yes?” He questions, eyebrows raised. “I want food,” you simply answer. “Okay, what do you want?” He asks. And when you tell him you’re not sure, he lets out a long sigh because he knows this is gonna end in you getting emotional. You’ll complain your back hurts, your feet hurt, and then you’ll end up cursing him out for putting a baby in you. So all he does is walks over to you, and hugs you because he’d rather do that than get into a stupid argument about food. “Toji!” You cry into his arms. “I’m just so hungry and I don’t know what to eat!” You sniffle. To help with your problem, he starts listing off every fast food restaurant and food he could think of in hopes you’d find one appealing enough. “Chinese food?” He shrugs. You gasp with excitement. “Ugh, yes! Me and the baby could go for some orange chicken!” You smile. Toji just chuckles, “making the call right now, sweetheart.” He watches as you waddle over to the couch, smiling like a kid in a candy store.

GOJO

ever since he found out you were pregnant, he was at the stores buying whatever supplies he saw, doesn’t matter if you needed it or not. And till this day, when you’re about a few weeks from popping, he’s still buying the baby things. “What do you think of this, eh?” He smirks, holding up a onesie that says “my dad is the best”. “You’re gonna spoil her rotten, is what I think,” you groan as you reach into the bag to see what else he bought for your daughter. “More toys?” You hold up a fake set of plastic keys. Gojo snatched them from you. “I’ll have you know that she will be learning life skills at a very young age, thank you very much,” he scoffed. All you did was laugh, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Your daughter’s room was filled to the brim with clothes, toys, blankets, you were starting to wonder if you had any more room. “I can already tell she’s going to be a daddy’s girl,” you said with a sigh, rubbing your belly. “Yes she is,” Gojo leaned in towards your very plump belly, “isn’t that right?” He placed a kiss on your stomach.

NANAMI

nanami is the type that doesn’t let you do a damn thing by yourself. You’re reach for something to high on the shelf, he’s sprinting towards you, ready to be at your service. “Be careful,” he says, rubbing your back. “Kento, I got it,” you chuckle. His eyes are always on you, watching your every move. Especially when you’re in public, he hates when people get too close to you. He knows others don’t watch their surroundings and could easily bump into you. “Ken!” You shout from the bedroom. “Yes?” He peeks his head around the corner. “Can you help me get my shoes on, I can’t even reach,” you pout. Within seconds he’s on his knees, slipping on your sandals, and tying them around your ankle. He will even go as far as to paint your toes if you forgot because he knows how much you hate not having them done. Like I said, he won’t let you do a thing by yourself. “Thank you, Ken,” you kiss his lips.

GETO

geto literally pampers you. I’m not saying he acts like nanami, but I’m saying that he makes your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. “Sugu, baby, can you rub my feet? They’re swollen.” You frown. “Of course.” He grabs the lotion and casually massages your feet while you’re both watching a movie, and literally over the course of your pregnancy he’s become the best masseuse ever. He’ll also randomly creep up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist before lifting your belly, feeling the weight off of your back. “Feel better, mama?” He kisses your cheek. “So much better.” You nod, closing your eyes as you embrace the moment. You’ve even found it hard to shower while being pregnant and geto takes it upon himself to help you, albeit jumping in the shower with you or sitting on the edge of the tub while you’re in the bath. “Is the water too hot?” He rubs the soapy water over your shoulders. “It’s perfect.”

CHOSO

I’m sorry but choso is clueless. Not in a bad way, but in like a panicky way. You’re an emotional wreck through your pregnancy, moods swings like crazy. “Can you just get out please?!” You’re annoyed with him, bothered about the littlest thing ever and then in the next two minutes you’re walking out the room just crying and apologizing to him, kissing his cheek. He has no idea what the hell is going on, and you’d think he’d learn after nine months, but no. All he can is just sit there and comfort you. “It’s fine,” he assures. He gets your favorite food that you’ve been craving for the past two weeks, eating it non stop and then within a split second you’re gagging, pushing the food away. “Oh my gosh, Choso! Please throw it away, it tastes so bad.” You gag again. “But…I…you were just eating this yesterday…?” He’s says, confused before throwing the bowl of food in the garbage. Quite literally doesn’t understand anything, just confused to all hell, but he’s trying his best.

[luvcaleb]

ANYTHING FOR YOU.

bf!caleb headcanons with canon-typical caleb possessiveness levels.

bf!caleb who wears hair ties on his wrist and does your hair for you when you complain about feeling hot. he even adds a neat little braid because somehow, he's even better at it than you are.

bf!caleb who lets you steal all the clothes you want. he knows he's huge, and the way his oversized shirt drapes on you drives him a little crazier than he'd like to admit. if you say anything that remotely suggests you feel a bit cold, he's already shrugging out of his jacket.

bf!caleb who gives you a piggyback ride when your feet are sore from wearing heels. he doesn't let you get off until you've arrived at a clothing store and he picks out a new pair of comfortable shoes, kneeling down to slip them on your feet.

bf!caleb who holds his hand out whenever you go shopping for cosmetics so you can test the makeup on his skin. he gives comments on which color fits you better and slides out his card before you could pull out your wallet to pay.

bf!caleb who gives you a packed lunch whenever he has the time to cook. some pieces are cut into hearts, and every meal comes with a post-it note with a different message. “i cooked your favorite, pipsqueak. hope you won't be too full for dessert later ;)”

bf!caleb who wakes you up with kisses, gently cooing that breakfast is ready on the table. he picks you up when you whine about being too sleepy, carrying you all the way to the dining room.

bf!caleb who knows all of your favorite snacks and keeps stock of them at his apartment so you can eat whatever you want during movie nights.

bf!caleb who sends you pictures when he works out at the gym because he knows you have a thing about him flexing his arms.

bf!caleb who knows all your good angles and a good portion of the photos you post on social media are taken by him. “hm? i don't do anything special. i take good photos because you always look this pretty in my eyes, princess.”

bf!caleb who kisses every inch of your skin that another man touched. may it be a friendly pat on your shoulder or a tap on your waist, he erases all traces of them with his lips, watching the red marks bloom with deep satisfaction.

bf!caleb who's always touch-starved, no matter how much cuddling you do every night. he demands you to pat his head and shower his face with kisses, and even if you do as he requests, he says it'll never be enough and he needs a lifetime supply of affection.

bf!caleb who finds every opportunity to mention his cute girlfriend to his close peers to the point they're tired of his bragging. at the fleet, the colonel is normally freezing cold, but his eyes soften ever so slightly when he sees your picture set as his lockscreen. you're always his reason to go home early, too. “my partner is waiting at home. i'll be leaving now.”

bf!caleb who spoils you rotten so that you can't live without him anymore. he can't live without you, so it's only fair if the same goes for you, right?

bf!caleb who smiles when you say you're going out with a friend. he tells you to call him when you're done so he can pick you up, and he's always right on time so you don't have to wait. good thing he was nearby, huh?

bf!caleb who bought rings way too early into the relationship and is simply waiting for the perfect time to pop the question and make you truly his.

[tojisteddy]

Just thinking about sitting in Smokes lap while he smokes.

cw: 18+ mdni, mild smut, modern au, age gap, pet names, daddy used once.

The music is always playing from the speakers around his house, weather is be blues or jazz, neo soul or 70s r&b. He sits on the back porch with your perched sideways in his lap so he can see your brown skin in the glow. The older man’s mocha brown eyes trailing all over you while he plays with your braids that he loves to pull on so much.

He’s waiting. For what exactly?

For you to finish rolling his cigarette.

Even though you can go and buy them from the store, something about his soul is genuinely old yet authentic. He’s not trying. He’d rather you or Stack do it for him (and Stack would rather you do it because hes told Smoke time and time again, theyre grown now and he should be able to do it himself). But he can’t, he’s not good at it, something about having being still and calm just for the few moments spikes his anxiety for some reason. A difference from his cool demeanor, that irrationality that’s always ready to pop out shows in that simple instant.

So he lets you roll for him, be it a cigarette or a blunt, he watches you to it like it’s second nature. Put the finished product to his plump lips and spark it to life.

“Good job mama, thanks.” He’ll exhale the tobacco, patting your thigh in appreciation.

Sometimes he’ll watch you smoke, the clouds forming between your two tone lips. Loves to shotgun whatever he’s smoking with you, brushing your lips ever to lightly and letting you blow the smoke into him.

Fucking adores how gorgeous you look. Your curls out of your face and enjoying the moment. Doesn’t laugh when you cough because you’re not used to it, simple corrections on how to smoke better, let it flow through you. Elijah just admires you even more, let’s you ramble on before kissing your shoulder blade. Gripping your waist and pulling you closer to cuddle into him.

And you adore how handsome he looks smoking, clearing his stress filled mind, the easy feeling taking over his body. It’s gentle, quiet as green eyes by Erykah Badu plays, the sunset basking on your skin.

And just maybe, he fucks you till your dumb right there, smoke blowing past you as Elijah watches from the side of his eyes your face contort in pleasure, your back to his chiseled abs, riding him in reversal. Your hands claw at his knees, hiccups and moans fill the air his eyes dance at the ripple of your ass against him with every bounce you make on his dick.

“Fuck- that’s it baby, fuck your Daddy so nice.”

a/n: something about Smoke is so sensual yet so soft to me, so dad bf, loving and caring, gruff yet understanding. idk.

most recent masterlist.

[deathofacupid]

ᡣ𐭩 content — angst to fluff. no part two for this one <33

satoru's met this girl.

she's very kind, a sweetheart, really. she laughs at all his jokes, every single one. even the ones that are so unfunny, he cringes immediately after.

she's pretty. long, dark hair. it's always styled to perfection, satoru can't remember the last time he's seen it messy. maybe, he never has. her eyes are bright, gleaming. there's warmth in them. her lips are full, and soft against his own.

she's bubbly. smiles at strangers, makes small talk with the exhausted cashier, feeds stray dogs (he warns her about rabies, she never listens). she’s incredible with kids, just knows how to make them feel safe and seen. she makes satoru feel that way, too.

she's got a sweet tooth, just like him. they eat stuff their faces with pastries all the time. she has the same taste in candy as he does. in most food, too. it's convenient, he'll give her that. saves time at the grocery store.

she likes the same music as him. they never fight over aux, don't even harmlessly bicker. satoru plays whatever he wants, and she sings along.

satoru's met this girl, and she's perfect.

and, yet, it's two in the morning, he's standing outside your apartment, a bouquet of please, god, take me back flowers clutched in hand. they're tulips, the ones he brought for you on your first date.

satoru's eyes are glossed over, and there's a sob building in his throat, as he knocks twice on the wood.

he waits, not-so-patiently. there's shuffling, satoru hears. then the door cracks open, and there you are. hair all over the place, eyes heavy with sleep, looking absolutely ready to tear him a new one.

yeah, satoru's met this girl. and, maybe, that other girl is perfect. but you… you're perfect for him.

[a-b-riddle]

Part 2

Can't stop thinking about reader finally cutting them loose.

For three days there was nothing but radio silence. In those three days you had told yourself that it was a grace period. Time for Simon to cool off and realize how much of a bastard he was for saying all those things he obviously didn't mean. Johnny coming back over with a bouquet of flowers and endless apologies and cuddles.

Simon didn't apologize for his harsh words.

Johnny didn't call you later, as promised.

For three days you jumped at every single notification, silently hoping it was one of them. Any of them.

But it wasn't.

And you, unfortunately, got the answer to the question you had been asking yourself for months.

Did they still want this?

The answer was clear.

You didn't let their unofficial dismissal get to you. You still had shit to do. A life to get on to. A book signing to go to.

Jesus.

A book signing. A book you wrote. A book that was being published and released the day of the expo. You weren't expecting a huge line because this was your debut novel, but with the help of some ARC readers who had took to social media, there had been a bit of a storm brewing.

You had listened to John when he had mentioned writing under an alias. Don't know how crazy people are out there. They'd do anything to get close to you, Dove. Just better to protect yourself where you can. You almost hated yourself for listening to him now. Now you would just have to keep writing under your pen name.

You were getting ready to close up shop early when your phone finally pinged.

Kyle.

Fuck.

Of course it was Kyle. The one who hadn't treated you like you were constantly bothering him. Not the one who made you feel guilty for agreeing to your arrangement. Nor was he the one who fucked you and left you. No. He was just the one who just wasn't there.

Maybe that was just as bad.

What are you up to today?

That was it. Almost two weeks of radio silence and that's all he had to say? It just added more evidence that you were making the right call in ending this now. It had already carried on for too long.

You had two things on your to-do list and you wouldn't let Kyle's sudden reappearance deter you.

E-mail the publisher back.

Change the locks.

You didn't have the strength to face them again. If they groveled, it would be too easy to take them back. One against four wasn't much of a fair fight. And if they didn't care to fight for you... you don't know if you could survive it. Coming face-to-face with the proof that it didn't bother them to give you up even though it was killing you.

No. Cutting it off completely was the best thing to do.

So you didn't respond.

You left Kyle's text unanswered as you e-mailed the publisher back that everything was set for your flight on tomorrow morning. You would spend Thursday adjusting to the time difference and Friday you would rest up before the expo this weekend. She assured you that you would need to rest up your writing hand. Whatever that means.

You left Kyle read as you closed up shop several hours earlier than usual. You needed to drop off the bank deposit before you started on task number two.

You didn't bothering responding to Johnny when he had texted you when you were leaving the hardware store, purchase in hand. Asking if you were free Friday. Promising dinner. 'In or out. Your choice.'

It was almost second nature when you got home to pull up your phone. Ready to text one of them to see which one of them could come over and help.

Fixing a leaky sink? Nothing Johnny hasn't seen before. Need help moving furniture? John won't mind when you change your several times on what should go where. Kyle would always come in with take out the moment you mentioned you were hungry and whenever you felt like going for a walk when it was a bit too late in the evening, Simon was the first to volunteer as your personal guard dog.

But asking them to come and change the very lock you planned on using to keep them out seemed... counter productive, if not downright petty.

You were almost done with the lock when your phone sounded off. Only this time it wasn't a text. Someone was calling you.

You almost faltered when John's name came on your screen.

Fuck.

That almost got you.

You almost answered it.

Almost.

You clicked on the 'Sorry, I can't talk right now. Options, before finishing up your work.

And just like that, you were done. No help needed. You had changed the lock. Even adding on a deadbolt. Replacing the flimsy chain Simon had taunted you about. If someone wanted to get in here, that wouldn't stop them.

Well, now you didn't need to hear it anymore.

Not that you would really hear it again...

Your flight was in twelve hours. Although that seemed an ample amount of time you hadn't even begun to pack. You had luckily narrowed your outfits down, but now was the task of folding it nicely into your suitcase rather than just stuffing it in there.

On my way. We need to talk.

It was too late for talking. Three days too late. Several months too late.

The last message sent was four weeks ago. A new Thai place had opened up close to your apartment that you were wanting to try. All of them had given you excuses.

Not my taste, Dove.

Cannae do it tonight. Next weekend? Next weekend didn't happen either.

I can do tomorrow. Kyle ended up bailing. You forget the excuse he used.

Simon hadn't even bothered to reply.

The final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Almost two years wasted with nothing, but a broken heart to show for it. And the worst part is, they had all chipped away at your heart, leaving you to deal with the final blow that would shatter it.

Im sorry. I can’t do this with you anymore. wish you all the best.

Your fingers made quick work in blocking their numbers. It was best. If they wanted to reach you, they couldn't. On the other side of the coin, if they didn't care to reply, you wouldn't spend countless hours crying over the fact that none of them had been affected the same way you had.

You would deal with getting them their belongings that they had left behind another time. You had big things, great things happening for you. You were cutting your loses. You were cutting them loose.

You just hoped you didn’t regret it.

[kitteninabunker]

cw: gunplay, dubcon (??), semi-public sex, gagging, mentions of death but nobody dies so rest assured, spit, pretty rushed, lil drabble be i had to write about my man being icky b4 i forgot >.<

"are you gonna be obedient? or should i splatter these pretty little guts all over this wall?"

you don't know how you got here, and by here, i mean in an alleyway, with your brand new white skirt pooled around your ankles and nearly torn to shreds, your freshly manicured nails digging into the muscular flesh of a strange man who's stuffing your slick cunt with the shaft of his gun, his index finger is dangerously close to the trigger as his wet tongue peaks out from between his scarred lips to swipe the shell of your ear.

isn't it just your luck that you ran out of instant ramen tonight, meaning you had to walk outside to the closest convenience store all alone? hey, it isn't your fault that you're a broke college student who's just trying to make ends meet. the news warned civilians of a man lurking on the streets, described as tall, black hair, and incredibly dangerous, but they didn't mention hot. it just so happens that the same man, serialkiller!toji, has you gagged with your own panties, your back arched, stifling your cries and whimpers so not even the oblivious pedestrians passing by the whole scene know just how much danger you're in.

you slowly nod your head in compliance, careful and nervous not to make the wrong move just in case this creep decides he wants to end your life with a bullet through your uterus. "good," toji growls, slowly sliding his gun out of your tight little pussy, leaving it clenching around nothing as he brings the firearm up to his mouth to lick your sweet juices off of it. "j-just take my money, anything!!!!" you're desperately trying to plead with him, your voice muffled by your panties as tears stream out of your eyes, leaving the makeup on your face streaky. oh, who were you kidding? he clearly didn't care about robbing some girl for her money, your purse had dropped onto the ground with all of your belongings spilling out when toji grabbed you, your tiny pink pocket book sits there and you want to kick it toward him. there had to be a possibility that money would divert him from whatever he has planned for you, right?

let's say he did wanted to rob you, why would he bother to strip you naked, making you arch your back as the bright red store lights shine down on you beneath the dark nighttime sky, highlighting the curve of your hips and ass, making your slick folds glisten? he's trying to humiliate you, proving he can break any bitch into being his slut.

"i don't need your money, babygirl."

dammit.

"you're gonna give me this tight, virgin pussy." toji declares, his voice low as goosebumps riddle your skin. "college girls study better whenever they're bred by big, scary men like me, hm?"

well, it's not like you've ever had anyone's dick inside of you. his hypothesis could be correct, but you had bigger fish to fry now that the cool barrel of his gun is pressing into your temple, wet with his spit and your own slick. "d—don't kill me..." a part of you wants to shut your eyes and accept your fate, welcoming whatever is waiting for you in the afterlife, wishing he'd pull that trigger to put you out of your current misery. "scared little lamb." toji chuckles, retracting the gun from your head as he slides it into his back pocket. "m' not gonna kill you either."

the confirmation puts you a bit at ease, this totally isn't how you're gonna die!

toji's brings his calloused, large hand to rub your soft belly as he holds your waist. he swiftly unzips his pants and tugs them down, before the fabric can even hit his thighs, his fat, mushroom tip hits his abdomen as his cock flings out. he holds the base of his dick, slapping his hard length on your asscheek. you gulp thickly, its not even inside of you, yet you can still sense how bad this thing is gonna stretch you out, you don't know if you're ready for it.

you sharply suck in a breath of air as he moves his dick to slide it between your drooling pussy lips, the aching tip brushes against your clit which makes you arch your back deeper. "a-aaah!" you gasp, and toji quicky slaps his hand over your mouth. "quiet, little one." he says, lining himself up with your fluttering hole. "don't wanna get caught out here, now do we?" you shake your head in response, dare you say that you don't wanna get caught bent over by a killer? even if help arrived? toji spreads the bead of precum leaking out of his slit around, mixing it with your slick as his tip prods at your entrance.

then, you feel the burn, the stretch of your hymen as toji slowly pushes his hips forward, his thick pink tip slipping inside of you as you curl your fingers into his skin to grip his arms tighter. "do you want this?" toji asks, leaning his head close to your ear as he kisses it. want what, exactly? a crazy guy fucking you in a dingy alleyway? you'd appreciate it if he would at least buy a motel room, but you can't really complain, or think as his fingers move to your clit and make your brain short-circuit. “yeshhh...” you slur out, already so cock drunk and he hasn't even put his cock fully inside.

toji trusts his hips forward, his entire shaft slipping inside of you as your nails dig deeper into his skin. you forget about the possibility of dying right here tonight, the only thing you can focus on is the way his big cock just feels sooo good inside of you, almost as if you were made to take this psycho's dick. you feel your walls clamping down on toji's cock, molding to it's shape which sends a jolt of pleasure through the both of you.

the slick, wet sounds of your creamy pussy taking him in so deep are the only noise coming from the alley, drowned out by the nightlife in the city as you mewl incoherent babbles as toji keeps fucking you, gripping the flesh of your ass tightly as your plush skin fills the gaps of his fingers. "nnngh—too much..." your soft, whimpering voice escapes your parted lips, your knees tingle, slowly giving up as they struggle to keep you upright.

"you like getting your pussy stretched open by sickos like me?" toji asks, slapping your asscheeks and leaving a stinging red hand print on it. you nod your head, biting down harder on your panties as he fucks you from behind. he doesn't let you adjust to the feeling of his thick cock splitting your pussy open, no, he loves the way that warm, tight mouth between your legs grips onto him so tight, he's only fucking you so he can feel good. "you're taking me in so deep," he groans, his thrust growing sloppier. "no wonder you girls get pregnant so easily."

he spreads your fat cunt apart so he can stuff his cock deeper inside of you, his tip kisses your cervix almost instantly as he bullies himself into your tight heat. his fingers keep rubbing slow circles around your sensitive button, making your soft thighs shut around his wrist. he watches the white ring of your slick bubble at the base of his dick as he slams his hips against your ass, the thick push of pubic hair tickles your skin but turns you on nonetheless.

before you know it, you're cumming, squirting all over toji's dick as he stays inside of you. his finger flicks your clit harder as your juices spray out. you literally see starts as toji grips your jaw tightly to keep your quiet as you reach your high. he pulls out, giving his cunt-juice-soaked shaft a slow pump as he nuts on your lower back, spreading your thick sheet of slick around his tip. you feel the warm spurts of cum hitting your skin, toji wipes some of it up as he brings his finger up to your lips, pulling your panties out of your mouth so you can have a taste of his load.

you tighten your lips around his thick finger, suckling his cum off of them as the pad of his thumb pressed into your clit. "that taste good, baby?" he asks, biting his lip as he grabs your arm to turn you around, grabbing your face as he squishes your lips. "open." you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out as toji leans over your head to land a glob of spit on your tongue. you pull your tongue back into your mouth as you swallow his saliva, he takes your hand and slaps a heavy wad of cash into your palm.

"thanks for the free pussy."

[dc-posting]

Young Tim who makes kandi/friendship bracelets for Robin and Batman (mostly Robin, he just doesn’t want Batman to feel left out) and leaves them in the Bats’ most common brooding/surveillance spots.

He does this for years, perfecting his craft. He makes bracelets with multiple chains, his beads get higher quality, his finishings improve (he learns that gluing the knot and trimming down the string is better than just tying it off and cutting it down.) and he loves to make bracelets for the two Robins, and for Nightwing, when Robin I eventually becomes his own hero.

When Jason dies, Tim sneaks over to leave kandi at his grave, nothing that would incriminate him as Robin, just things Tim thinks he would like. Kandi strung in his favourite colours, a cuff with a quote from his favourite book, intricate designs woven with pieces of Tim’s heart and his sorrow for his favourite Robin, his hero.

They’re cleared away often, but Tim replaces them with new kandi diligently.

He also turns Robin II’s favourite gargoyle into a mini shrine, bracelets and kandi chains decorating the stone high above Gotham’s streets, dedicated to his hero.

When Jason arrives to the tower, ready to break his replacement’s wings, he instead finds a sixteen year old boy sitting cross legged on the floor, surrounded by boxes of beads. He has a tray in front of him, a design laid out that he is carefully transferring one by one onto the elastic string.

“Stupid Bruce clearing the stupid grave.” He mutters angrily, tying off the bracelet. “Have to replace these every other week.” He adds a dollop of glue, ties the string again, adds another bit of glue, and then sets the piece down to dry. Jason watches as he carefully manoeuvres the glued knot to rest in one of the beads, ensuring that’s its secured to itself as well as to the bead.

He would be impressed by the attention to detail if he wasn’t currently processing that Tim fucking Drake is Robin’s stalker.

He thinks back to his room at the manor, at least fifty bracelets for Robin II found on rooftops (and once, on the passenger seat of the Batmobile. God, the look on Bruce’s face.) stored securely in a plastic box at the very back of his closet. His most prized possessions. He knows Dick has one just like it.

Whatever plans for revenge being enacted through the vessel of his replacement are immediately scrapped.

“Those for me?” He asks, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms.

Tim whips around, beads clattering off the bracelet he was carefully stringing together.

“Not unless you’re my neighbour’s dead son.” He shoots back, tone aiming for joking, scrambling for his staff. Play cool, play cool.

Jason barely thinks for a moment before he removes his helmet. He peels off the domino mask, wincing as it pulls slightly.

“Uh…” Tim stalls, staff at the ready.

“You left me bracelets, all around Gotham. For years. For Nightwing too, and the Bat.” Jason tilts his head. “You said those were for your dead neighbour. You make them for me out of the mask too?” Tim nods wordlessly, stepping aside so that Jason can rifle through the pile of bracelets waiting for their glue to fully dry.

He finally finds his words as Jason starts trying on various pieces.

“I started leaving them after you- after everything. At your… grave. B and A clear them away every few weeks, I don’t know if they keep them, but I replace them.” He sounds unsure, Jason thinks that’s reasonable.

“You don’t even know me.” He says, he knows why someone would leave gifts for Robin, but Jason Todd? No way.

“You were my hero. You are my hero.” Tim responds, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Guess we gotta break into the manor and see where he’s hiding those bracelets then, eh?” Jason pushes through the warm feeling in his chest. He doesn’t have time to analyse that now.

“Only if you agree to let me run tests in the cave.” Tim still holds his staff in an iron grip.

Jason would expect nothing less from his Robin.

It’s only a small price to pay for those kandi after all.

[boyfhee]

﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤLIPSTICK STAINㅤ...ㅤ( 엔하이픈 )

概略 ───── 𝗂 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂 𝖺𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍.

COLLECCIÒNㅤ｡⠀( 28O7 ) ㅤ&ㅤbf ! enha x fem ! reader, fluff ㅤ 𖥔 kissing, skinship

ㅤ ꒰⁠ ⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠ ꒱ㅤ..ㅤhappiest reading to all !

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HEESEUNG

he stirs awake when he feels the mattress dipping next to him, a soft groan falling off his lips at the interruption. he can't get mad though, not when your adorable face is the first thing he sees in the morning along with the prettiest smile that he loves.

“morning, sleeping beauty,” you chime in a sing-song manner, planting a soft kiss on his lips. he attempts to speak but you cut him off with more such quick and fluttering kisses all over his face, his nose scrunching up. “wake up, wake up,”

“yes, yes—” his words are interrupted by more of your kisses before you let him speak, a hearty chuckle leaving his lips. “i am up already, angel,”

and he does not know how you are so energetic in the morning, how you're all dressed up and ready while he's still fighting drowsiness. he can smell your perfume in the air and your shower gel in the bathroom when he steps inside.

he smiles at his sight in the mirror, admiring the lipstick stains you've left on his face, and he feels himself falling in love with you more, if that was even possible.

JONGSEONG

you pin him against the door as soon as he steps inside the store room. there's a thrill to it— the secrecy that is such a turn on to him. your mischievous smile letting wider at his surprised expression as he shakes his head in admiration. “having too much fun, aren't you?”

“yes,” you grin before pulling him by his tie and crashing your lips against his. he inhales sharply before kissing your back with the same fervor, tugging you flush against him by your waist.

you both stumble over a few things as he backs you up against one of the shelves. it's messy yet passionate, and you both share a quiet laugh when a bunch of sheets fall over him, making the moment comically romantic.

he leans in for more but you step back, a few giggles falling off your lips. “make sure to clean your face before the meeting,”

his brows furrow in confusion and he takes his phone out of the pocket, scoffing with mock annoyance when he sees his face— hair disheaveled, lips swollen and tinted from your lipsticks, the same ones that have adorned his cheeks and jaw with your lips.

and he can only shake his head at your little stunt before capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

JAEYUN

“jake, i need to—” your words are cut off mid sentence when his hand moves to your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss.

“just five minutes more,” he breathes desperately against your lips, the other hand gently caressing your cheek— he's practically begging for you.

and you can only respond with a quiet laugh at the puppy dog eyes he gives you. you know you can't refuse when he's being like this. “you've been saying that for the past fifteen minutes,”

“and what's so wrong with wanting to kiss my pretty girl?” his lips are jutted out in a pout, and you can barely stop yourself from leaning in for a peck.

your giggles are interrupted by his pecks and tender caresses on your face, sweet nothings muffled between your lips before you manage to pull back. “your lips are all red,”

he raises his brows in surprise, taking a look at himself through the rear-view mirror and lets out a breathy laugh, his fingers lacing in your hair again. “love it when you mark me as all yours, darling,”

SUNGHOON

sunghoon's fatal flaw— he can't say no to you. he has a habit of sleeping without his shirt one— the second flaw.

and you use both these facts to your advantage. he doesn't know what has gotten into you, but you're straddling him while he's sitting on the bed, bare chest, hair ruffled, leaning against the headboard. he also thanks whatever deity that landed him in this situation.

you're also pressing kisses all over his face and chest, all while leaving the stains of your lipstick over skin. “are you done yet, princess?”

“hm,” you hum, planting yet another kiss just above his pulse point, one that elicits a soft groan out of him as you feel his hand tighten around your waist.

you lean back, eyes taking in your very own art work that you've done on your dear boyfriend. he grins at your expression. “satisfied?”

“yes,” a cheeky response follows as you nod, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest and sunghoon swears, he might have a problem.

a swift move and you're under him in the blink of an eye. he smirks at your wide eyes and lips at that part in anticipation. “now, my turn,”

SUNOO

he does not know what is more distracting— your dress, the necklace you're wearing that he bought you recently. that is, until he sees you grab a tissue and tap against your lips after the dinner.

your words fall deaf to his ears. he's too busy looking at the ever so perfect imprint of your lips on the tissue. his gaze follows you as you bring the glass to your lips and take a sip, and he speaks, half dazed. “here too,”

“what?” you turn your face towards him, blinking a few times at your boyfriend's actions as he points at his cheeks.

“that,” he's a little shy, quite hesitant, unable to articulate his request properly. thankfully, it barely takes you a few seconds to understand as you smile, leaning forward and putting one hand on his cheek why pressing a tender het firm kiss on the other one.

“there— oh! that left a mark,” you reach out for a tissue immediately. “i'll wipe—”

“don't,” he interrupts before you can finish, gently taking the tissue from your hands and wiping his own lips before smiling. “let it be,”

JUNGWON

“uh, strawberry?” he takes yet another guess, eyes squinting at your face to access your reaction.

“gosh, no, wonie! the last one was strawberry,” you whine in exasperation for the fourth time. you both are on the couch, playing a little game of your boyfriend guessing the flavours of your lip tint with kisses.

“okay, once more. promise i'll get it right this time,” he shoots you a sheepish grin, his hand automatically reaching out to pull you closer onto his lap.

“your lips are pink,” you point just as he was leaning in for a kiss, his eyes widening at your words. his cheeks mirror the same colour, half from the few kisses you've showered on them and half from the way you make him blush.

“who cares,” and he captures your lips in another kiss, tilting your head to a better angle when he feels you smile amidst the kiss. his tongue brushes against your lips, the sweet taste only driving him crazier. you gasp when he pushes his tongue inside. you don't even know if this is all even necessary for this silly game.

he pulls back, a little out of breath. “okay, it's grape for sure,”

“no! oh my god,” he shakes his head at your frustration, the way you say that you will give him a last chance. honestly, he could care less about the flavour. he knows it's vanilla, the kisses are just an excuse.

NI-KI

“are you nervous?” you ask in an attempt to drag the conversation for longer, literally giving him heart eyes.

“me? never,” he replies with a scoff, hands intertwined with yours. honestly, it's not even overconfidence. he is just that good at basketball. you nod with the same smile, bringing his hand to your lips to press a kiss, and his eyes widen at the faint lip mark. “hey! don't do that, i have a game,”

you roll your eyes at his words, huffing with mock irritation as he wipes his hands. “so what?”

you press another kiss on the back of his hand, he wips again, you tip toe, he leans back to break free from your grip, you end up backing him against the wall, kissing his lips, a defeated groan falling off his lips, your own curling up in a victorious grin.

“well since you want to kiss me that bad,” he says nonchalantly but his words betray a hint of admiration at the sight of you looking so cute. he leans down to your level, pointing at his cheek. “do it here,”

his fangirls are whispering, the teammates are teasing, he doesn't care. riki goes to the game with your lipstick stain on his cheek, and he wins.

[sillyswriting]

: ̗̀➛ bouncer simon 'ghost' riley - 02

cw : sexual theme, public sex

ㅤㅤ     ㅤ  ㅤㅤㅤ collection - prev ⋆ next

simon was never the insecure type. not when it came to women, so dating a stripper was nothing to him. it wasn't for everyone, especially when he watched you work. it was tricky not to get a hard on every five minutes.

but at the end of the night, it was his dick that had you dumb, and that's all that mattered.

none of the fuckers coming in here would ever be able to satisfy a beauty like you-it was written all over their desperate faces. useless.

you, however, were not above jealousy. your relationship-if you could even call it that-was still fresh, and you had begged simon to keep quiet about it at the club. not that he was the talkative type to begin with.

relationship. you scoffed at the thought, taking another drag of your cigarette as you mulled over whatever the hell it was you had with simon.

every night for the past three weeks, he'd take you back to his place, fuck you stupid-turn your brain to mush until you couldn't string a single thought together-then cleaned you up, made sure you were warm and tucked in before you passed out.

and every morning, you woke up alone.

where he went-every single time-you had no clue. the gym, the grocery store, god knows where. all you knew was that by the time you opened your eyes, he was gone, leaving you to drag yourself back to your place and get ready for the day.

it wasn't the healthiest setup, nor the most romantic. but you let yourself be okay with it. because at the end of the night, you were always in simon's bed.

still, deep down, you wanted more. to be more than just a body.

shaking your head, you made your way back to the lockers, barely paying attention to the chatter around you. you were focused on fixing your hair, mind elsewhere-until you heard his name.

well, not his name. but ghost. you were the only one knowing his name amongst the girls.

"bet he fucks like an animal," the first girl drawled, her thick new york accent growing heavier as she got more worked up. "all quiet, brooding... those are the ones that do the nastiest shit. i know he talks filthy—it's always the silent ones."

the second girl just laughed, nodding in agreement when you caught her eye in the mirror.

you had to bite your tongue to keep from telling them just how right they were. not because you wanted to gossip-no, you wanted to b𝘳𝘢g. to show him off. he was yours.

"reckon he might be gay," a third girl cut in, her brummie accent making it sound even more blunt "𝘪i mean, ya ever seen him look at any of the girls ‘ere? always just lurkin’ in the shadows, not sayin’ a word."

when the others stared at her like she was talking mad, she just shrugged and added, "𝘳𝘦m𝘦mb𝘦𝘳 𝘳udy? 𝘯𝘦v𝘦𝘳 g𝘢v𝘦 us 𝘢 s𝘦c𝘰𝘯d 𝘭𝘰𝘰k 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 w𝘦 𝘧𝘰u𝘯d 𝘰u𝘵 𝘩𝘦 g𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦d 𝘧𝘰𝘳 g𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯' b𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰v𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 b𝘢ck 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦y… jus𝘵 s𝘢y𝘪𝘯', g𝘩𝘰s𝘵 c𝘰u𝘭d b𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 s𝘢m𝘦."

you laughed out loud at that. yeah, you remembered rudy-what a time that had been. you loved this job, and gossiping in the locker room was half the fun.

but god, they couldn't have been more wrong about ghost.

heading back toward the stage, you missed the rest of their conversation-something about putting on a special show. whatever. you had work to do.

as you stepped onto the stage and started moving, slow and deliberate around the pole, you felt his eyes on you. they grounded you, made you feel safe in a way you'd never needed before. but now? you weren't ready to give it up.

just as the next song started, you were sweetly smiling at a loaded old man who kept slipping you £50 bills when you spotted your dear colleague making her way toward simon. at first, you paid it no mind-he wasn't exactly approachable-but something about her attitude in the locker room rubbed you the wrong way.

you knew something was up when she trailed after him during his break. you had no more breaks-you were off in an hour-so all you could do was watch from the stage as she followed him to god knows where. it wasn't like simon not to be aware of his surroundings, so you knew he knew she was there.

it was the longest hour known to mankind. they hadn't come back, and you had to dance your arse off while nursing the sting of betrayal.

you'd thought you and simon had something special. turned out, you were just another bitch in a club.

once the hour was up, you didn't bother sweet-talking anyone-you stormed off the stage, ready to call it a night. a part of you wanted to find simon, just so you could punch his handsome face.

the only place that came to mind was the staff bathroom-the very same place he'd fucked you for the first time. did he take all the girls there? rounding the corner, you heard it.

grunts. and throat noises?

damn, she was a nasty one. it was still early for a strip club-all the girls were still here.

at that very moment, you had never been more disgusted by a man in your life. the fact that he'd let just anyone get on their knees for him in a public bathroom-like a fucking pig. you never had anything special, did you?

you had been a warm little convenient thing for him. easy. disposable.

you were ready to storm in and throw hands. at who? you still weren't sure.

you needed the money, sure, but you'd find another club. one of the main rules was no fighting among the girls-especially not over a dick. but fuck it. the second was: don't fuck the costumers.

you were seeing red. you felt dirty and humiliated.

hand on the door, you started pushing when strong arms wrapped around you, a firm hand clamping over your mouth. before you could react, you were dragged into the janitor's closet, the door shutting behind you.

"dumb little girl, thinking i put my dick anywhere." simon groaned in your ear, rubbing his hard on against your arse. "could see it in your pretty head, you're always overthinking, aren't you?"

the hand that had been clamped on your mouth loosened slightly, fingers trailing down to your throat instead, squeezing just the way you liked. "need my dick to turn that brain off, right lovie?" he had lowered his voice again, and you could hear the smirk in it.

his deep voice in your ear made it impossible to think straight. the way he kept rubbing didn't help either. you snapped back to reality when you heard it-his belt buckle.

you started thrashing a bit, trying to escape his grip, but it was pointless. you knew he'd never hurt you, but if he wanted you somewhere, you'd be there-no question.

"gonna take it like my good girl, right?" simon's voice dripped in your ear. "i must admit, your jealousy was fucking hot. the anger on your face? damn, got me hard in a minute."

all the noises in the background only heightened the moment. you could still hear the other girl in the bathroom, the music from the main stage, and the girls rushing up and down the corridor. you could get caught at any moment, but it was all so fucking thrilling.

at least they'd see he was yours. no one else's.

just as simon entered you, his hand back on your mouth to quiet your moan, the girl in the bathroom got caught by your manager. screams, tears, and apologies echoed from the closet.

that should have stopped simon; it was the reasonable thing to do. but fuck reason. you felt so good, so tight, so warm. and he'd been honest when he said your anger had turned him on.

fuck this job anyway.

so he kept going, and he was not gentle with it. over the weeks, he had known what you liked, how you liked it and how much you could handle. he had noticed your little thing for public intercourses. he was giving you the all package.

he kept on going with his filthy words in your ear, and by the way you clenched on his dick, he knew he was doing the right thing. fuck, this might be heaven.

"tsk, tsk, tsk," simon began as your voice grew louder and louder. "do you really want to get caught now?" he taunted, mocking you.

when you didn't answer, he kept pushing you further by taking his hand away from your lips, a stray of spit following the movement. it was filthy, just how he loved it. immediately, he felt you panic, your hand reaching for his to put it back.

"my dumb girl, still need me to do all the work," he added, nipping your neck as his grip on your face tightened, just like his hips. you were both close, and he knew it.

by now, nearly all the girls were just outside the closet, probably trying to sneak a peek at what was happening in the restroom. your manager's voice echoed through the space as he explained that this was a renowned establishment, and what your colleague had been doing was something reserved for lowlife places.

in your state, you were still grateful he was shouting, because if he hadn't, you were sure some of the girls would hear the sound of simon's thighs slapping against yours. just the thought of it pushed you over the edge, without warning.

"fuck." simon's grunts were unexpected, too. he usually had better control over himself, but you? you were just special.

you were slowly coming down from your high as simon gently rubbed you stomach, trying to calm your breathing as much as his.

"and where the fuck is the bouncer when you need him, aye?" your manager's voice boomed in the corridor. "no fucking customers, that's part of his fucking job!"

oh, she had been fucking a costumer.

"think i'm jobless again, lovie," simon whispered gently in your ear. "worth it," he continued, sweetly kissing your neck, the exact spot he had nipped just minutes before, surely leaving a mark.

yeah, fuck this job.

[tbaluver]

hiyaa! can i request scenarios with the lads boys where MC flashes them in the middle of an argument >< also love your writing so much!! it's actually giving me inspiration to go back to writing myself adjhsfhlds

Flashing Them During An Argument- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader, caleb x fem! reader tags: slightly suggestive, not so serious argument, silly a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ omg thank you so much you're so sweet my angel (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ and you def should whenever you can! i hope i get to read whatever you create or hear your ideas ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ ) also i swear someone req this too and i dont know if im imagining it or i just cant find it(╥﹏╥) anyways i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ ty to my beta reader MWAH @ilovemitsuya any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

GOOD GOOGLY MOOGLY

You two had been going back and forth for what felt like hours, trying to decide on what to eat for dinner. Every suggestion he gave was close enough to what you were craving but either it was too far or you just didn’t like the area it was in

The stores were closing soon and you both still couldn’t agree and the frustration was creeping in. Before he gives another suggestion and tries to persuade you, you cut him off by lifting up your shirt with nothing underneath. He didn’t even hesitate, his eyes immediately dropping and feasting on the soft mounds that sit oh so perfectly. He doesn’t even remember what restaurants he suggested, he just knew how enticing they looked.

“So..let’s go to my restaurant?”

“huh..?” He blinked a few times, his gaze still locked on the now covered skin but he can still catch a glimpse of your nipples peeking through your shirt. “oh yeah..sure..” He trails off, his mind completely consumed by how soft they looked.

“okay! let’s get- Xavier!” Before you could even get up, he gently pins you back down, his needy hands snaking up into your shirt.

Zayne:

It started when you gently told him he should get ready to go to bed, it was already getting late. You loved your boyfriend deeply and you admired his passion and dedication to his work but it was clear that he was pushing himself too hard again. He promised he’d finish this last report and he’ll join you later but that was exactly what he said after the last five reports.

You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the deep bags beneath them. All the signs of his late night shifts, back to back operations, and countless hours of overtime in the past few days showed. His eyes fluttered shut just for a second, begging to stay closed, only for them to open again as he tried to push through.

You approached him again, urging him to go to bed. You told him he was being stubborn and how those reports could wait but of course, he countered back saying that you didn’t need to stay up and wait for him and that you should be getting some rest too.

The two of you went back and forth for a few minutes. But before he delivers another witty comeback, you lifted up your shirt, immediately silencing him. His eyes travel from your face down to your soft breast, losing his original train of thought and thought about how they sit so perfectly to him. They don’t linger for too long as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

Zayne tries to regain his thoughts and you fail to notice the small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he shakes his head. “Just..” He sighs, “...Please, you don’t need to wait for me,” He said softly, standing up from his chair as he approached you. “I suppose I’m overdue for a long needed rest then right?” He whispers, his hands sneaking up inside your shirt.

Rafayel:

You were late, again. The mission took longer than expected and you already knew that Rafayel would be upset when you got home and sure enough, you were right. He didn’t bother to greet you the moment you stepped inside the house. His back was turned to you, ‘focused’ on his sketching. All the responses you got a dismissive “hmph” and a side pout that you’re clearly familiar with.

You gave him a moment to cool off as you slipped into something more comfortable, peeling off your hunter’s uniform before approaching him again. This time, you made an effort to apologize in front of him but he pretended you weren’t even there. “Huh..Do I have some bubbles in my ear? I swear I heard something..” He mumbles, pretending there was absolutely no one in front of him.

This escalates into you two having a back and forth, explaining how your phone died so you couldn’t text him and his responses were rather sarcastic, saying how fishes would’ve started walking on land before you’d ever show up on time. Both of you were exhausted, frustration bubbled inside of you as you paced around, groaning. In a last attempt to get his attention, you stepped back in front of him, lifting your shirt up without a word to flash your breasts in front of him.

His eyes widened, his breath hitching as his gaze slowly trails down. “You-” He shakes his head, fighting back his mind that’s screaming FLASH ME AGAIN. He’s trying to stay strong but unfortunately this sea god is not the strongest soldier when it comes to you. “Oh yeah? Well two can play that game cutie!” He huffs, tugging at the waistband of his pants.

Sylus:

He wouldn’t tell you a thing about his new mission and it was bothering you. How far was it going to be? Who was going to be involved? Nothing. He refused to budge, his lips sealed tighter than usual. Every time you asked, he deflected with vague answers. Every time you offered to help, he would tell you it's alright and that he has everything handled.

“It’s just a short trip.”

But you knew better that a short trip doesn’t involve secrecy. It was probably bigger than that. The tension between you was growing, both of you refusing to give in. But before he could even hint at how dangerous his short trip might be, you lift your shirt up, cutting him off mid sentence. It was a last and desperate attempt for sure to regain his attention, your boobs falling out and flashing Sylus in all it's glory.

His eyes widened for a moment, an amused smirk tugged at his lips as he watched you slowly lower it back down. “Oh? Is this your new counterattack?” He teases, inching closer to you. “I think one move isn’t going to easily take me down. What do you think?” His long fingers twirl the hem of your shirt teasingly. “Amuse me with more and I might just give in.”

Caleb:

clean up on aisle caleb’s pants!

You definitely caught him off-guard from the way his eyes shamelessly looked down immediately the moment you lifted up your shirt to reveal your exposed skin. The way you cut him off his sentence as he almost chokes on his own saliva.

“um..umm..” He stammered, attempting to look at you but his eyes betray him, flickering back down to your exposed skin. He fought the urge, his gaze shifting up and down but he was unable to tear his eyes away, his cock twitching in his pants. 

What was the argument even about? He doesn’t even remember what he said to you a few minutes ago and he doesn’t even remember what color your pants were. He didn’t even notice that you’d already lowered your hands, his gaze burning through the thin fabric as his mind lingered on the bare skin he’d seen. His thoughts of kneading your breasts were cut off when you called out to him.

“Can we do it Caleb?” His eyes snap back up to meet yours, the hypnotizing sight of your exposed skin covered and his mind slowly return back to reality.

“Of course, we can do it anytime pipsqueak,” He replies, a soft smile on his lips, completely unaware of what he'd agreed to. You could’ve signed him up for a cilantro eating contest and he’d win just for you. Whatever you want and say, he’ll do it for you.

[3amfanfiction]

Thinking about you telling husband!simon that you want a divorce. You still love him just as much as the day you married him but you can’t take the constant fear every time he’s gone on deployment, wondering if you’re about to become a widow, if his enemies have caught him, if they know about you.

Simon stays silent, listening to you. You think he understands, that he agrees. You take his silence as assent that you’re on the same page.

He holds you while you cry, telling you it’s going to be okay. You’re his strong girl, you’re gonna get through this, he’ll always be here for you.

When you’ve finally exhausted yourself you don’t even fight as Simon ushers you into the bathroom, using a cool wash cloth to wipe your face and help you get ready for bed. He pulls you under the covers and takes his place behind you, knees bent into yours, arm wrapped around you with his palm on your chest, fingers just barely touching the base of your throat.

You can accept this. One last night of comfort before the harsh reality of morning. You sear it into your memory to get you through whatever the days ahead might hold.

The problems start next morning

Simon acts like the conversation last night never happened. He was up before you and got breakfast ready. You woke to the smell seeping into your room.

When you make your way into the kitchen Simon just greets you with a morning lovie and a bussed kiss to your temple before going back to the stove. The same thing he’s done dozens of times in the past.

When you remind him of the conversation last night he shrugs it off. You’re allowed to have your feelings but I made a vow. You’ll be my wife until death do we part.

This is the theme for the following week. Simon continues to act as if nothing has changed. He goes to the grocery store to pick up food. Cleans the bathroom when Saturday rolls around. Fucks you until you’re seeing stars. Shh shh love, I’ve got you. I know. You’re just scared. It’s okay. I’ll always be here.

Finally you break and ask him flat out why won’t you leave? I broke up with you. I don’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore Simon! I can’t be in a relationship with you any longer!

Simon just pulls you into his arms, tucking you under his chin.

I’ll never let you go love. I am your husband and I’ll keep being your husband until the day I die. And you best believe I’ll be finding you in whatever passes for the next life too. No don’t cry sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.

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[acid-ixx]

brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.