#but this one needs to sneak through the filters

[mademoisellesarcasme]

USA Catholics: May 18, 2023

hey! Catholics!

If you are in: Massachusetts Connecticut New York Pennyslvania Nebraska

TODAY is Ascension and it's a Holy Day of Obligation. It's 11am EDT as I write this, y'all should have time to find Mass today.

[randomrandy]

Random post: “reblog if you *thing I agree with”

My brain: if you reblog this you’re a virtue sighing whore who just wants internet clout. If you don’t reblog this you’re a heartless monster who should be shot in the street. Kys

Me: wtf

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"cold feet (literally)" - spencer reid x fem!reader

you wake up in the middle of the night to get a pair of socks

wc: 1k

cw: reader is described as wearing a bra, sickeningly sweet fluff, two idiots in love

Spencer keeps his apartment climate-controlled at a brisk sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. He likes to be cold, he says, and you generally don’t mind. You run hot anyway, so if, on the off chance you do get cold when you’re lounging around on his couch or perusing his bookshelves, you grab one of the throw blankets Garcia’s knitted for him and wrap it around your shoulders. 

Tonight is different, in that you were not planning on sleeping over. Your relationship with Spencer works so well, in your opinion, because you both like to be independent, so rather than be with each other every moment of every day that he’s home, you orbit around each other like planets. You spend many evenings over at his place, and he spends just as many as yours, but eventually, the other person goes home. 

Not that you didn’t like sleeping in the same bed as Spencer, of course, but the relationship was still fresh, and you both liked that you were taking things slow. Tonight, however, you started a movie with him rather late, and by the time it was over, you were bleary-eyed and your bones felt laden. Spencer was more than willing to offer you the empty side of his bed for the night. 

You arrived in sweatpants and a t-shirt, so you just took your bra off and laid down. Spencer splurged on a fancy orthopedic mattress, so you somehow both sunk into it and rested on top of it like a glass on a table. It was insanely comfortable, and both you and Spencer really were wiped out, so you went right to sleep. 

When your eyes flutter open a few hours, you’re laying on your side. The first thing you notice is that the room is not completely dark. No, in fact, there’s a stream of moonlight, or maybe a street lamp outside, creeping in through the curtains, casting a soft, gray-filtered glow over the room. 

You feel Spencer’s hand loosely on your hip, and his knee resting lightly against the back of your thigh. Your immediate reaction is not to move for fear of waking him, but your feet are icicles. The air around you is cold, too, but the blankets remedy that. You just need socks. 

I am molasses, you coach yourself, moving languidly and carefully to rise into a sitting position. However, you lack the FBI stealth training needed to rise out of bed without waking your boyfriend, because when you look over your shoulder, his eyes are very clearly open. 

There’s a tired yet playful little smirk as he sits up, leaning against the headboard. “Sneaking out already?” he asks, his voice still rich and thick with sleep, and you suddenly wish you’re able to see him like this more often. Maybe this whole going home to go to sleep thing is simply for the birds. 

“No, of course not,” you laugh softly. The mattress creaks as you finally stand up, your bare toes spreading against the soft carpet. As you pad over to his dresser, you shoot him a performative smile over your shoulder. “My feet are just freezing.” 

“Do you want me to adjust the thermostat?” Spencer asks immediately, shifting the blankets off of him so he can, presumably, get out of the bed. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you insist, holding up your hand. He stops in his place. “It’s just my feet, Spence,” you assure him. The cherry wood creaks when you tug the top drawer open, plucking the first pair of socks you see out off the top. 

Spencer’s mismatched socks are meticulously organized in their correct pairs, as it turns out. You smile to yourself when you realize this means he takes the time each day to couple up an incorrect pair of socks before putting them on his feet. 

You select a pair of purple ones with little kiwi fruits printed on them, affection for the ridiculous man in bed behind you bubbling up in your chest, making it feel as if it’s filled with helium. Like you could float up to the ceiling at any moment. 

You’re still smiling stupidly as you perch yourself on the edge of the bed. You slide his socks over your bare feet, wiggling your toes around for a moment. “Why are you smiling, angel?” Spencer’s asking curiously, and you feel his foot nudge your back. 

You lie back down in the bed, shaking your head softly as you lay on your side and place your head against Spencer’s chest. He takes a second to adjust, slinking down so he’s lying flat on his back, then he tugs you a little closer. 

Your cheek rubs against the soft, worn fabric of his t-shirt. You place your palm down against his flat tummy, and consequently feel his chin press into the top of your head. “What is it?” he asks again. 

“I just think you’re the bee’s knees, that’s all,” you say softly, earning a small chirp of a laugh from your boyfriend. 

“The bee’s knees, huh?” he rakes his fingers through your hair slowly. The action is lulling you like straight melatonin, making you even more tired. “Did you know that phrase actually used to mean something small and insignificant? Over time it developed to refer to something or someone that is greatly admired.” 

You close your eyes, your body relaxing against him as he speaks. “Do bees even have knees?” you ask through a yawn. 

“Technically speaking, no,” Spencer brushes his thumb along your temple, then across the top of your ear, as if he is charting all the smooth parts of you. “But they do have a ball-and-socket joint between their leg segments, which allows them the flexibility to move their little legs around. So when they dance to show their hive mates where the good honey is, they move their legs around.” He laughs softly at this notion, and you feel your weight sink into the mattress. 

“You make me want to dance,” you whisper, smiling with closed eyes against his chest. “So, you’re the bee’s knees.” 

Spencer hums fondly in response to this, then kisses your forehead. “That’s kind of a reach, angel,” he says. “But I think you’re the cat’s pajamas, so who am I to judge?”

[rinhaler]

step cest, virginity loss and non con with toji pretty please? :3

the contrast between the content ur asking for and then the innocent little :3 face is sending me btw 😩 but u said pretty please so u shall receive!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, noncon, virginity loss, fem!reader, step cest, daddy kink, ddlg, step daddy!toji, no prep, cream pie, dacryphilia, praise, pet names.

words: 1.4k

It’s too much for him.

Seeing how beautiful you’ve grown up to be. You’re so smart and kind, too. He feels like he’s losing you each and every day that he drops you off outside of your university building. He’ll never tire of hearing you express how proud of yourself you are to be the first in your family to get accepted.

But he’s starting to notice a change in you.

You’re wearing more makeup and spritzing more expensive perfume. Your tops are getting lower and your skirts are getting shorter. He notices it all because you’re in such close proximity to him whenever he gives you a ride to your classes. Your scent almost luring him into the deepest depths he can sink. Your naked thighs jiggling in the passenger seat practically begging him to push them apart so he can bare witness to your needy virgin cunt.

And he knows you’re still a virgin.

He hears the phone calls you have with your new friends while you pace back and forth in your bedroom talking about which guys in the class you think are cute. All the while he’s willing himself not to give in to his basic instinct and shove a hand down his pants and jerk himself off to the way you describe what you think sex might be like.

You’re adorably naïve.

You’ve convinced yourself it won’t hurt as badly as everyone says it will. Of course that could be the case if you were to fuck one of the pencil-dicked losers in your class. But it would be different with him. Your first time should be with him.

That’s what he tells himself when he sneaks into your room in the early hours of the morning. He knows you have an 8am class, but you’re such a good girl he’s sure you won’t mind. Hell, he’ll even let you skip it if you behave yourself.

He riled himself up too much thinking about what a fucking travesty it would be if you let some frat boy sully your insides. It can’t happen, it won’t happen. He muses to himself as he sits on the edge of your bed.

Your body slowly reacts to his presence as you blink away at the bleary filter in your eyes. You stiffen slightly when you realise you aren’t alone. When you see a shadowy figure looking down at you, every worst case scenario runs through your head in an instant.

“S’just me, darlin’.” he tells you, your vision comes into focus when you hear the all too familiar voice of your daddy. His hand holds your thigh, soothing you with a simple circling thumb.

“You scared me, daddy…” you sigh, getting comfortable in bed once again. You’re losing the battle against sleep, your eyelids feel heavy as you try to continually fight away the exhaustion. If daddy is here, it must be important, after all.

He’ll keep you safe, though.

You know there’s nothing to worry about with your daddy around.

“Need you to stay still ‘n be quiet for me, yeah? Can you do that?” he whispers. You barely register the sound of fabric being moved as you try and find his eyes in the sea of darkness. You, nod though, immediately proving what a good little girl you are for your daddy.

You feel a chill as he pulls your duvet away from your barely clothed body. It’s like you knew he’d be paying you a visit tonight. He can’t quite see, but wastes no time hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh, d-daddy?” you speak, quietly squirming a little as he slowly pulls them.

“Thought you were going to be quiet for me, hm?” he reminds you, a gruff tone to his soothing voice. “Be a good girl for daddy, yeah? Let this happen…”

You gulp, nervously, your body freezing at his words as you realise what’s going on. He yanks your shorts away and throws them over his shoulder, you bare cunt on display is making you consider maybe being with your daddy isn’t so safe.

Maybe your daddy doesn’t always have your best interests at heart.

There’s a clacking sound you can’t place. It’s filling the room along with daddy’s groaning. You flinch as you feel the mattress spring back into place before sinking deeper than it had before. Your body is trapped beneath his and you can’t stop yourself from crying. This isn’t how you imagined your first time, this isn’t how you would have imagined any time.

But you’re paralysed.

You’re powerless.

“D-Daddy… I don’t— I don’t… like… this…” you tell him, still unable to stop your tears from falling. You gasp as he effortlessly covers the lower half of your face with the palm of his hand.

You work out the source of that unrelenting clacking sound as he towers above you, furiously touching himself as he prepares to enter your tight heat.

“Of course ya do, sweetheart.” he kisses your forehead repeatedly as he rubs his heavy tip against your virgin slot. You cry into his hand as he begins to push into you at a snails pace. He’d never do anything to intentionally hurt his baby girl. But this is something he can’t control. “This is what little girls like you are made for. Makin’ their daddies feel so good.” he continues.

His emerald eyes are the only thing you can see in the dark abyss of your room. It’s terrifying, how the eyes you had trusted more than anyone else’s are making you want to scream out in fear.

He feels your tears and saliva dampen his hand as he bullies his cock into you. If he had any sort of conscience, he’s sure he’d feel guilty for not even having the decency to prepare you first. But you’re so fucking tight like this. Taking him like such a good girl, swallowing him whole and squeezing around him like he belongs to you.

And besides, no amount of preparation would have readied you for how well-endowed he is.

He rocks his hips into yours again and again, your screams turn to muffled moans beneath his heavy palm as his tip finds it’s sanctuary against your sweet spot. It hurts, fuck, he’s monstrously big and it fucking hurts.

You try to talk to him, words he’ll never understand as his hand stifles you. He isn’t sure if it’s wise to move it. Will you scream and cause a fuss? It’s a big risk. But you’ve always been a good girl. His good girl. So he slowly peels his hand away, your whimpering moans slowly creeping up your airways and running rampant through his perverse mind.

“’m made… made for you? For daddy?” you whisper. He smiles, smothering your voice with an incestuous kiss that neither of you seem to mind. “B-But it hurts, daddy! O-Ow, daddy’s too big for me!” you cry out, a little louder than you’d intended and certainly louder than Toji wanted. He covers your mouth once more, his brutal pace kicking into high gear as he slams his whole weight behind his thrusts.

“Good fuckin’ girl, baby.” he praises you, admiring how your eyes roll over white and your consciousness leaves your body and he pummels everything he has into you. “No one can know about this, got it? You can’t do this with anyone else either. Wan’ you t’be daddy’s special girl… f-forever.” he speaks, hips speech failing as he begins to reach his peak.

He hadn’t expected you to tighten around him, either. He’s gifted you with your first orgasm and your pussy hugging ‘n squeezing around him forces him to reject any concept of pulling out. You have him trapped inside of your previously untainted walls. Thick, white cum coats your insides and he collapses on you as he finishes.

His grunts continue to fill the room. Though they sound like they’re only meant for you to hear as he levels his mouth with your ear. You turn to face him, those familiar green eyes feel so safe again as he looks at you. Like you can trust him with anything. You could tell him any secret and he’d take it to the grave.

But you know better, now.

You know what you are to him.

“W-Why did you do that, daddy?” you ask him, your voice so timid and subdued. You always talk so sweetly to your daddy. He thinks if you didn’t want that, you would be picking a fight with him. You’d be screaming and crying and demanding an explanation. But you’re too sweet for that. You’re too much of a good girl for daddy to do any of that.

“… Because good little girls always let their daddy cum in them first.”

© 2023 rinitxshi

[ashlynlovestlou]

ellie fucking you in the middle of the night <3

cw: smut , nsfw , men dni , strap usage , reader sits on ellie's face , dom! ellie , sub! reader , kinda vanilla , reader and ellie's relationship is a secret , y/n used (im sorry) , sitting on ellie's face

masterlist

daily click

☆⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

the problem is, you dont want to keep things casual. you said it because it felt like a thing you should say when you start fucking your best friend. now, you're lying in bed wearing ellie's shirt, wishing shed sneak down the stairs and crawl in with you.

you try to talk yourself out of it so many times. you'd already almost got caught once. but your body doesn't care and neither does your heart. you want her hands in your hair, her warm skin against your own.

which is why you creep through a dark house and up the stairs, keeping to the edges to avoid any creaking that might wake up joel. one peek into his room at the top of the stairs and you see him sprawled like a starfish. your lips curve up at the sight and then you very, very gently shut his bedroom door before padding down to the secondary bedroom as the opposite end of the hallway.

the door is closed and no light shines from beneath. you twist the handle and walk right in. her curtains are open and ambient light from outside filters in through the massive windows. the door clicks shut behind you and you walk across to the king-sized bed. much like joel, she is all long, muscular limbs stretched out in the middle.

unlike joel, you don't turn away.

you press one knee onto the mattress and crawl in her direction. ellie's breaths are deep, and the entire bed has a faint sandalwood smell. you think you'd settle for just lying here beside her, breathing her in.

instead, you kneel at her side. soaking her in, so relaxed. she looks younger—more carefree—like this.

with one hand, you trail the tip of your fingers over her lips—just like you did every time joel had his back on the two of you. a simple gesture, just to remind her you were there, even if it was for a moment.

ellie's big strong hand flies up, steely fingers wrapping around your wrist, "y/n."

it's not a question. she knows it's you.

"hi."

"what are you doing?" she asks from behind closed eyes.

"touching you."

her lips curve up into a sinful smile, "i thought you wanted to keep things casual in front of joel."

"right." you whisper, "it's just that i thought about it and decided being casual is overrated. i want you to touch me too."

a raspy chuckle spills from her as her green eyes open and dive into your own. chills erupt from the back of your neck, racing down your spine and over your arms.

"so, what now?" she asks beneath a quirked brow.

"i don't know." you suddenly feel nervous. you snuck up there with no plan, only knowing you wanted to be close to her, "do you want me to leave?"

she stares at you extra hard now. it's borderline unnerving. the weight of her stare. the way your stomach flip-flops under her attention. you've never felt this way before.

"no, y/n. i want you up here." her voice is soft and deep as she reaches for you. broad hands circle your waist and you squeal as she hauls you on to her, so you're straddling her torso.

"gonna need you to be quiet, baby." she murmurs as her palms slide up over your quads, tips of her fingers dipping inside your underwear at your hips.

all you can do is nod, lick your lips, and watch how good her hands look roaming over your body.

"n-now what?" you practically stutter.

"now you're going to hold on tight to that headboard, sit on my face, and try to keep your mouth shut while i make you come."

before you can respond, she's moved you up, yanked the gusset of you panties to the side, and has her tongue in your pussy.

you gasp and fall forward, holding the headboard like she instructed, more out of needing something to hold on to than because you're good at following directions.

your head falls back when her teeth graze you clit. she palms your ass and holds you close, like she's eating her favorite fruit. her eagerness does nothing but drive you even more wild.

"hmmm," you hum, trying to cover for the string of expletives currently sitting on the tip of your tongue. your thighs shake with the strain of holding yourself over her and fingers dig in hard.

ellie pulls away, only to grumble at you in that deep tone. "baby, i said be quiet. and stop being polite. i told you to sit on my face." the hand gripping your underwear yanks you down hard so that you're fully seated.

she sucks your clit and your body bows into her. her hand slides up from your ass, over your hip, stomach, and up to your breast, where she gently caresses you. she holds you. touches you.

she gives your nipple a good, firm twist that has you gasping and grinding against her mouth. all the response you get is a satisfied growl against your core as she continues to lick, and suck, and tease.

you ride her shamelessly. she told you to stop being polite, and so you do. you lose yourself in the sensation, the feel of her skin on yours. the smell of her wrapped around you.

there's something empowering in asking for what you want. to be touched when you want. and you're drunk on that—drunk on her—when everything inside you clenches. when that pressure builds so quickly, so intensely, you can't hold back... you shatter.

you feel like you blew apart into a million little pieces. your skin is hot, your eyelids feel heavy. and as much as you try to stay quiet, you can't.

her hand shoots up over your mouth and you slump into it, using her arm to prop yourself up while you cling to the headboard.

"ellie," you whisper as she moves you down. her limbs are moving and there's fabric rustling around you, but you're too incoherent to keep up, "ellie."

"y/n, baby. i told you to stay quiet."

your brain is too addled to care. "more." you fold yourself over her, dropping your head into the crook of her neck and kissing her there. your teeth graze over the lobe of her ear, and you realize she's removed her boxers while you blacked out. and, she had put on her strap that she conveniently kept in her nightstand.

"more?"

you nod, feeling her throat move against your forehead as he swallows. "more."

her hands move firmly, all business, as she removes your underwear. then she sits up, leaning against the headboard and taking you with her.

you can feel her hard length propped against your ass as she positions the two of you.

her eyes stay on your face as she reaches down to grip the hem of her shirt. the one she gave you to sleep in when she walked you to the guest room door and told you it might help you miss her less. right before she smirked that annoying, i'm-right-and-you-know-it smirk of hers.

she wasn't, though. which is why you're here.

your body coils with anticipation again as ellie's gaze rakes over your bare skin.

her hands roam slowly yet purposefully. over your arms, your collarbones. reading you like braille. you think she's always been able to, and you just didn't know it.

"i'm not sure you can handle more, baby." she kisses your chest as your hands move in tandem, feeling her in a way you didn't get to earlier. "you're not very good at keeping quiet."

"i'll be good," you murmur, grinding your pussy back on her and feeling her steely silicon dick twitch against your ass.

suddenly her lips are on your nipples and your hands are raking through her hair. she reaches between the two of you, urging you up onto your knees, you move obediently, and in return, you're rewarded by the sensation of her faux cock sliding against your pussy.

back and forth. back and forth. your eyes flutter shuts she tortures you. one hand grips your shoulder while the other is fisted around her length. you swivel your hips, feeling her crown notch inside you.

"goddamn, honey. you're even better than i fucking dreamed," she mutters roughly. then she shoves herself in, and you bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. because no one and nothing has ever felt this good.

your eyes snap open as your body adjusts. the light sight of her taking you so roughly has the blood thrumming through your veins at a rapid pace. your heart pounding even harder than before.

you stare at each other. her cock is buried deep inside you his.

"move, y/n. show me how bad you want it."

your pelvis undulates because you do want it. you lift and you drop back down, feeling every thick inch of her as you do. reveling in the way her eyes widen before taking on a more hooded appearance.

what starts off slow and deliberate comes apart at the seams. hands that were searching are now gripping.

breathing that was even is now choppy. everything is hot and damp as you writhe together in silence.

you don't need words. they wouldn't do justice to something that feels like this anyway.

"you're gonna come on my cock now, aren't you, baby?" she growls roughly, breathlessly, against your ear. your body shudders in response. "i can tell. your eyes give it away, even in the dark. then every muscle on you goes all tight. you ride me so damn hard. so eager. so warm. so fucking tight."

you're so full of her. her words. her body. it's too much, and right when youre about to go barreling over that edge again, she kisses you soundly, swallowing the sound of you screaming her name as you come.

with a fist full of your hair, she pumps into you hard.

spilling herself, filling you up thoroughly right as your orgasm rocks you. flays you. leaves you slumped in her arms, desperately trying to catch your breath.

you don't know how long the two of you stay like that. you straddling her lap, her cock snugly inside you, clinging to each other and kissing. slow, languid, deliberate kisses that make your throat ache with their tenderness. eventually they slow and ellie tolls you off her carefully.

always carefully. even when she's rough with you, shes so damn intentional. you feel nothing short of pampered with her. and when she gets up to retrieve a warm washcloth, the point is only driven further home.

"what are you doing?" you breathe the words, trying to stay quiet as she comes to kneel between your splayed legs.

"taking care of you."

the warm cloth swipes over your swollen core and you let out a soft moan. "you don't need to do that."

she continues wiping you gently. "but i want to."

you're struck silent by such a simple sentence.

you lie in ellie's bed, letting her take care of you. and when she's finished, she lifts the covers, crawls in behind you, and holds your body against hers all night long.

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: kook princess. kook prince. perfect match, right? wrong. you hated rafe cameron and everything he stood for. and he hated you. so when your fathers spring it on the two of you that they’d arranged for the two of you to be married, both of your worlds are flipped upside down.

— CW: 18+ only! strong language, slightly aggressive!rafe, heated kissing, fingering, rafe is honestly super sweet n cute in this.

— note: it’s getting sexy in here😏

prev parts: one, two, three

series masterlist ⤑ taglist form

Y/N

I wake the next morning, my head throbbing and the smell of coffee filtering in through my bedroom door. I yawn, going to stretch my limbs but the feel of a strong set of arms draped across my waist has me stilling, my mind racing a hundred miles a minute.

What the fuck….?

I glance to the right of my bed, the sound of slow and steady breathing I hadn’t heard at first now hitting my ears. Oh fuck. Rafe. What is he doing in my bed? What the hell happened last night?

The last thing I remembered was him kissing me after our parents announced the engagement, and then he lead me into the kitchen where we both indulged in the copious amounts of alcohol my parents had provided for the night. I remembered the two us of finding his friends, Topper and Kelce, talking to them for a while before we had wandered off somewhere else within the house.

We’d gotten along fairly well last night. We weren’t fighting, or acting like we’d hated each other, but that didn’t mean anything… Right? Nothing happened between Rafe and I. It couldn’t have..

I softly lift his arm up and off my waist, letting it fall onto the bed before I lifted the covers, taking an inventory of my clothes. I still had my dress on, my underwear and bra hadn’t been removed… I felt fine. So why is Rafe in my bed? From what I’ve been told, — and just from what I’ve seen — Rafe didn’t sleep in bed with a girl unless he was fucking her.. But then again, he also never publicly showed affection towards any female, and last night he’d kissed me in front of a large crowd.

Swinging my legs over the side of my bed, I plant my feet on the ground, slowly and quietly trying to slip out the bed. I make it out of the bed, tiptoeing to my bathroom, but when my hand hits the knob, Rafe’s voice has my body tensing up.

“Trying to sneak out on me, huh?”

Fuck, he sounds sexy in the morning. His voice is low and raspy and thick with sleep. I release the door knob, slowly turning to face him. He’s laid on his side, his right elbow propped up on the bed with his right hand holding his face as he stares back at me. I rub my thighs together, trying to shake away the throb that’d formed between my legs from just looking at him.

I clear my throat, “Uh, no. I just.. I just need to brush.. Just need to brush my teeth.”

Fuck, I sound like a fucking idiot. Stumbling over my words like a fucking high school girl with a crush… Why is he making me feel things like this? I’ve always hated him, but now… Now I’m seeing him in a slightly different light, and I can’t shake the feelings that are digging their way up.

He smirks at me, breathing out a small laugh before he turns and lets his head fall back into my pillows. I watch as he makes himself comfortable in my bed, my eyebrows shooting up to my hairline in confusion and shock. Rafe Cameron in my bed? If you would have told me this would be happening just a week ago, I’d laugh in your fucking face and say “Only in his dreams.”

Rafe turns his head to the side, bright blue eyes scanning the length of my body before he says, “Go brush your teeth and change into something more comfortable, then come back in here. We should talk.”

I open my mouth to respond, tell him that he can’t tell me what to do. But nothing comes out. I just clamp my mouth shut and turn, opening the bathroom door and quickly shutting myself inside.

My back hits the door, sliding down until my ass hits the cool tiled floors. I run my hands through my hair, something scraping against my scalp when as I do. I pull my left hand down, holding it out in front of my face. My eyes go wide when I notice the large diamond that sat on my finger. Holy shit? This wasn’t here last night… Is this? Of course it is, how could I not think that there’d be a ring? We’re getting married for Christ’s sake.

I begin sucking in large gasps of air, trying to mentally calm myself. It’s happening. He’s not so bad, is he? When the fuck did he put this ring on my finger? Why the fuck is this my life? What does he want to talk about? All the annoying, but valid thoughts run rampant in my mind. I shake my head, trying to shove all the incessant thoughts away as I will my shaky legs to stand again.

Quickly brushing my teeth and taking three ibuprofen, I push open my bathroom door and make my way back into my bedroom. Rafe still lays on my bed, but he’s on his phone now. He slowly turns his head, his icy blue gaze slowly moving from my feet and up to my face.

My face heats up under his intense stare. “What?” I ask, my voice slightly shaking. Damnit.

He locks his phone, placing it on the nightstand and sitting himself up in my bed, his back rested up against the headboard.

“You gonna change? That dress cannot be comfortable.”

I glance down at the tight fitted white dress my mom had chosen for me to wear last night. “Uh.. Yeah.”

I slowly make my way to my dresser, opening it and pulling out a pair of pink silk shorts and a white tank top. I slowly inch toward the bathroom again, but Rafe clears his throat, stopping me in my tracks.

“You don’t have to be shy around me. I’m gonna be your husband after all.”

My brows pinch together in confusion. “What do you want from me? You went from hating me to… not hating me… so fast. So what’s the catch?”

Rafe chuckles. “Who said I didn’t still hate you? You’re stuck up. You have this ‘I’m better than you’ complex. You don’t like fun,” He pauses, his blue eyes searching my face. “Honestly, you’re not my first choice for a wife. To be honest, I’m not sure I ever wanted to be married. But here we are. I guess you can say I’ve just accepted the situation we’ve found ourselves in.”

My entire body heats up. Of course he still hates me, I didn’t expect a week to change anything. But what does he want from me? “You don’t have to be shy around me.” What the fuck does that even mean? Does he think that just because we’re supposed to be married in three weeks that I’ll just throw all my morals away and let him have his way with me? Fuck that, he’ll have to work for me, even if all I want to do is bare myself to him and let him touch me.

I nod my head once. “Understood. So tell me then, Rafe. What is it you want from me? You want me to strip for you? You want me to just give myself to you because you’re set to be my husband? I’ve gone twenty-one years without letting a man see me or touch me, and believe me when I say, I can go another twenty-one. I won’t give into you so easily, I’m not one of your many girls that will just drop to her knees when you ask. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to change, and I’d like it if you’re gone by the time I come back out.”

I turn and grasp the doorknob, pushing open the bathroom door but Rafe’s hand gripping the back of my neck has my clothes falling to the floor, a sharp gasp pulled from my chest.

He spins me around, keeping a firm hold on my neck as his cold, blue eyes stare down at me.

“Princess, you will give into me. You will drop to your knees when I ask. And you will love every second of it, because I can promise you one thing, of all the men that could be your first, you’re lucky it’ll be me.”

I yank myself free from his grasp. My right hand lands a sharp slap across his cheek before I can process what I was doing. Oh shit. Did I just do that? Fuck fuck fuck. He’s definitely going to make me pay for that, and although I’m not necessarily afraid of Rafe Cameron, I can’t help but fear what he might do to me for such a stupid mistake.

His wild blue eyes stare down at me. I can’t quite read the expression on his face, but I can see the fire blazing behind those cool blue eyes, and it’s frightening. I open my mouth to apologize, but Rafe’s right hand grips the back of my neck tightly again, his lips crushing mine in a searing kiss.

I try and fight him off of me, but to no avail. He’s much stronger than me, and his grip on the back of my neck is bruising this time. He kisses me with so much force and passion it has my knees going weak and my heart thrumming wildly in my chest.

Rafe’s tongue flicks my upper lip, and I absentmindedly part my lips for him, allowing him to shove the pink muscle into my mouth. His left hand runs up my side, squeezing at my hip tightly before it continues its way up and around to the zipper on the back of my dress.

He breaks the kiss, his darkened over eyes staring down into mine. Slowly, he tugs the zipper down, the straps of my dress falling loosely down my shoulders as he does. He never takes his eyes off mine as he pushes the dress down my body, leaving me in nothing but the silky white bra and panties I’d chose to wear last night.

Releasing the grip on my neck, he steps back, planting both hands on my hips as his eyes take in my body. My heart picks up in my chest, beating wildly now, I don’t think I breathe as he continues staring down at me.

“Rafe… What’re you-”

He dips his head down, claiming my lips with his again as his hands run down my hips and to my ass. He grips the flesh in his hands, a small gasp escaping me at the unknown feeling. The spot between my legs is throbbing, my thighs rubbing together to try and ease the ache I felt.

Rafe breaks the kiss once more. “You’re very beautiful. Why do you hide? Why have you never let a man touch you?”

My cheeks burn from his question. It’s not that I’ve never wanted to be touched, and it’s not like I haven’t had the opportunity, I just didn’t like any of the men who threw themselves at me. I didn’t want to be just another notch in someone’s belt, and that’s exactly what I would’ve been to any man on this island.

“Y/N? You okay?”

Rafe’s soft but firm voice pulls me out of my own head, and I raise my eyes to meet his. Deep blue pools stare down at me, and something in my heart swells. I don’t know when I’d started feeling for Rafe within the last week, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about it…

“I- I’m fine..”

His brow pinches together, a look of confusion etched into his beautiful face. He thankfully didn’t push the subject though.

His hands roam the expanse of my body, a trail of goosebumps left in the wake of his fingers. He digs his fingertips into the waistband of my panties, his eyes meeting mine once more. “Can I?”

My hands shake, and a large knot has formed in my throat. I knew I shouldn’t give in, I told myself not to give in, but something inside me had my head nodding a silent ‘yes’ to him.

His fingers dip down and into the silky material before the pushed down, letting the soft material fall around my ankles. My hands fell, instinctively covering myself from his eyes, but his large hands come down and slowly grip my wrists, pulling them away.

“Rafe..”

“Shhh, just let me make you feel good, alright?”

I slowly nodded my head, averting my eyes to the ground. He takes my right hand in his, pulling us toward my bed. He sits down first, still clad in his dress slacks but no shirt, pulling me down next and situating me between his thighs.

His left hand pushes my legs further apart, and every muscle in my body tenses. My nerves were on high alert, was I really about to let Rafe Cameron touch me? Yes. Was I nervous about what this meant after? Yes and no. He was going to be my husband after all, may as well get used to him now, right?

His fingers slowly run down my thigh, sending a shiver down my spine at the soft touch. He slowly inches down, down, down until his fingers reach the most sensitive part of my body. I gasp as his index finger lightly brushes against my clit, the sensitive bud throbbing with need.

Rafe’s lips kiss softly on my shoulder and up to my neck, the heat of his breath on my skin making my body tingle. “‘M gonna insert a finger now, okay? Tell me if it’s too much.”

My eyes squeeze shut, my lower lip trapped between my teeth as I nod my head once more. He slowly pushes his index finger inside me, groaning once he’s knuckle deep. “Shit, you’re so wet, princess.”

Slow and steady pushes of his finger has my breath catching in my throat, this felt unreal, like nothing I’d ever been able to do for myself. His lips left soft, wet kisses on the skin of my neck and shoulder as he continued to push his thick finger in and out of my arousal slick core, our uneven breaths mixing together in the air.

“Gonna add another, okay?” Rafe warned before his ring finger slowly pushed its way inside as well.

The feeling, the stretch, it felt amazing. Tears welled in the back of my eyes as he slowly thrusted his fingers inside of me, his thumb pressing firmly against my clit, slow torturous circles being rubbed against it.

A tight feeling brewed in my lower belly as his fingers picked up pace, his thumb still slowly rubbing against my sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Rafe… Oh, God.. I-”

My brain was fuzzy, this unfamiliar feeling growing inside me, white hot pleasure threatening to rush through me.

“You’re close,” Rafe whispered against my neck, “I can feel you clenching around my fingers. You can let go, baby. Make a mess on my hand.”

Strangled “mmphs” and “ahhh’s” fell from my lips, the pressure building up more and more until it exploded. Pure euphoria rushed through my entire body from my head to the tips of my toes, my body shaking and small, quiet whimpers escaping me.

Rafe didn’t let up, he continued to finger me through my high, his teeth nipping at my shoulder, earlobe and neck as he did. My body fell limp in his arms, his fingers finally slowing in pace before he removed them completely. I turned my head to face him, his eyes on mine as he shoved the two arousal soaked fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean.

“I… Thank you..” I said softly, trying to ignore the slight awkward tension that now crowded my room.

Rafe smiled, a real, genuine smile for once. “You’re welcome. I just believe we should get used to being around one another, I mean.. We’re getting married right? And I’ve always found you beautiful, I was just too stuck in my ways of hating you that I would never admit that shit out loud.”

His hard dick pressed into my ass, serving as a reminder that he’d just taken care of me, and I should probably return the favor.

“Do you… Uh.. Do you want me to, help you…” I asked awkwardly, my eyes darting from his face down to his lower region.

He chuckled. “Nah. Another day, sweet girl. We have a lot to do today.”

Oh shit. That’s right, today was food and cake tasting for the wedding, Rafe and I had to pick what entrées, appetizers, cake, et cetera we wanted to have for the wedding. I quickly jumped off my bed, grabbing my phone and checking the time. Shit. It’s ten-thirty. I had an hour and a half to shower and get ready to go.

“I’m uh.. I’m gonna shower.. You gonna be here when I get out?”

“Nah, I’m gonna head home and get ready myself, but I’ll be back here in an hour to pick you up. Please be ready?”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah yeah, I’ll be ready. Um.. Thanks, again.”

He nods his head once, grabbing his shirt off my floor and tossing it on. I watch as he makes his way out of my room before I kick it into high gear and begin getting ready. I tried to shake the feelings I felt from my mind, but nothing worked. As much as I hated to admit it, I was falling for Rafe and his charm. The next hour, hell even the weeks to come, my mind was plagued with thoughts of the one person I never in a million years thought I could tolerate. Rafe Cameron.

RAFE TAGLIST: @drewstarkeyslut @princessslutt @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @rafesthroatbaby @sturnioloshacker @starkeysprincess @rafescurtainbangz @atorturedpoetx @redhead1180 @jjsmarijuana @romaescapes @kisses4angel @lovelysturnioloos @maybankslover @bellbottombaby @simars3 @rafesgiirl @urbimom @heartsforrafecameron @antagonize-me-motherfucker @araminsstufff @chaneydoll @bi-zowee @uraesthete @rafemotherfuckingcameron @gibbsgirl7 @queenvane @anobsessedwoman @sunny1616 @princesssuki21

[be4chywritez]

uh oh | luke hughes

luke hughes x lazar!reader

you're trying to sneak out your boyfriend but their is one thing standing in your way, Curtis.

beachy’s notes: reader is adopted🫡

my masterlist!

my wattpad!

You're not sure how all of this happened, but all you know is that you were trying to get your boyfriend out of your brother's house before morning skate.

You tiptoe through the dimly lit hallway, every creak in the floorboard causing your heart to race. The morning sun filters through the curtains, you glance back at Luke who’s following your lead, trying to make as little noise as possible.

You grab Luke's hand, tugging him down the stairs, his hair messy and wearing last night's clothing that was scattered around your bedroom floor. You hear Curtis's bedroom door shutting. You turn to Luke, whose eyes are wide. He motions for you to go upstairs. You and he quickly and quietly make your way back upstairs.

You shut your bedroom door behind you, closing your eyes in relief. When you open them, you find Luke staring at you, a sly boyish grin on his face. "I feel like I'm 16 again," he jokes, pressing himself against you and placing soft kisses all over your face and neck.

You push him away playfully. "You didn't get any play when you were 16," you tease.

He lets out a huff, pulling you in for a kiss. It's sweet, his hands dancing around your back, but it becomes more needy. Then you hear a knock. "Hey, sissy, I'm gonna get going," Curtis calls out.

Your voice is hoarse as you reply, "Okay, Curt, see you later." You feel Luke's breath fanning against your cheek as he presses harder into you, trying to stay hidden.

"Hey, are you okay?" Curtis asks, and you see the door handle beginning to twist.

Luke slams you against the door, pressing harder into you if possible. "Curt, I'm changing, give me a second," you call out, and the door handle stops twisting.

Luke stands in the middle of your room awkwardly. You push him into your closet, giving him one last peck on the lips before closing the door.

You grab your robe, wrapping it around your body, and open the door. Curtis steps in, his expression concerned. "You feeling alright? You sounded a little nasally," he says, placing a hand on your forehead to check your temperature.

"And your lips are looking pinker than usual," he presses on, his eyes narrowing slightly. Your cheeks flush, flashes of the night before still in your memory.

You can almost see the face Luke is making inside the closet, trying to stay quiet and unseen.

"I'm fine, Curtis," you say, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just a bit tired."

Curtis frowns, still not entirely convinced. "Alright, if you say so. Just make sure you get some rest. And drink plenty of water."

"I will, thanks," you reply, ushering him out of the room as quickly as you can without seeming too eager.

Once Curtis is finally gone, you open the closet door. Luke stumbles out, looking both amused and relieved. "That was close," he whispers.

"Too close," you agree, shaking your head. "We need to be more careful."

Luke nods, pulling you into a hug. "Definitely. But it was kind of fun, sneaking around like that."

You laugh softly, leaning into his embrace. "Yeah, it was. But next time, let's avoid getting rocked by my brother."

"Deal," Luke says with a grin, kissing the top of your head.

The two of you quickly get dressed, fixing his wrinkled shirt you say, "Alright, you should get going before Curtis gets suspicious. Where did you park?" you ask, giving Luke a quick peck on the lips.

Luke pulls his keys out of his pocket. "Around back. Why?"

Your eyes widen. "Curtis takes the trash out today," you remind him. Luke's jaw drops slightly, and his gaze shifts to your window. Without hesitation, he opens it. "It's not that far down," he reassures you.

You stare at him bewildered. "So, are you just gonna stand there and not kiss me goodbye if I die?" he asks with a smirk.

You roll your eyes playfully and give him a chaste kiss. Closing the window behind him, Luke gives you a wink before climbing out and jumping down. You watch as he tumbles through the grass but quickly gets up, giving you a thumbs up.

"Dork," you giggle, shaking your head fondly.

Luke dusts himself off and heads around the house to where he parked. You stay by the window for a moment, watching him disappear from view before letting out a sigh of relief.

-

At morning skate, Luke is in the locker room changing into his gear. The room is filled with the usual chatter and chirps, but it doesn't take long for his sharp-eyed teammates to notice a few things.

"Hey, Lukey," Jack calls out, smirking. "What happened to your neck? Looks like you've been attacked by a vampire."

He knew Luke was sneaking out to meet someone, he just didn't know it was you, yet.

Luke tries to play it cool, tugging at his collar to hide the faint love bites scattered around his neck and chest. "Oh, you know, just an overly enthusiastic mosquito," he jokes, but his attempt at nonchalance only draws more attention.

"Yeah, right," Timo chirps. "Must be some mosquito."

As Luke continues to change, pulling on his practice jersey, Dawson, points out something else. "Hey, man, nice socks. Didn't know you were into... strawberries?"

Luke looks down, realizing too late that he's wearing your themed strawberry socks. He quickly tugs his hockey socks over them, but the damage is done. The locker room erupts in laughter and playful teasing.

"Nice touch, Luke," Jack adds, nudging Curtis. "You see those socks? They look like something your sister would wear."

Curtis, who had been lacing up his skates, glances over at Luke's feet. His eyes narrow slightly as he takes in the strawberry socks peeking out from under Luke's gear. A moment of realization crosses his face.

"Wait a minute," Curtis says slowly, his gaze shifting from the socks to Luke's face. "Are those... my sister's socks?"

The locker room falls silent, all eyes on Luke. He freezes, unsure of how to respond. His mind races for an excuse, but nothing comes to mind.

Curtis stands up, his expression a mix of confusion and dawning comprehension. "Luke," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Why are you wearing my sister's socks? And why do you have those marks on your neck?"

Luke swallows hard, realizing there's no easy way out of this. "Curtis, I can explain," he starts, but Curtis holds up a hand to stop him.

"Save it," Curtis snaps. "I think I just figured it out."

The room is tense, everyone waiting to see what Curtis will do next. He takes a step closer to Luke, his eyes hard. "You and my sister? Really?"

Luke nods, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, we've been seeing each other."

Curtis's jaw clenches, but then he surprises everyone by letting out a long sigh. "Out of everyone on this team, she chose you," Curtis says, unable to resist a teasing jab at his teammate. "You gotta be kidding me. I gotta deal with you at home now too. You better take care of her, man, or else you're gonna go flying into a wall."

Luke nods earnestly. "I promise, Curtis. I care about her a lot."

Curtis studies him for a moment longer before finally stepping back. "Alright. But I'm watching you."

The tension in the room eases, other teammates exchanging relieved glances. Practice goes on, but the dynamics have shifted. Luke feels the weight of Curtis's gaze on him, but he also feels a sense of relief. The secret is out, and now, you guys can move on without sneaking around.

As they pile into the locker room, Luke walks over to Curtis. "Thanks for understanding," he says sincerely.

Curtis nods, his expression softening slightly. "Just remember what I said. And maybe next time, don't wear her socks."

[sofiawritesstuff]

Platonic

part 6

summary: When Lando's "playboy" image is setting a bad reputation for him. He turns to the person the trust most in this world for help.

pairing: landonorris x bestfriend!reader

warnings: none

part 5

AN: Before we start I do want to say that I’m sorry for how this story has turned out, I’m lowkey hating it but i will come back with a better story soon. If anyone has any longer stories they would like to see, then please leave it in my submissions box, in my comments and/or feel free to message me privately. I also apologies about the wait for this. Sorry guys and thank you.

--

Lando had woken first, the light of the early morning sun filtered through the curtains. He stretched over you, smiling to see you still asleep against him.

He kissed your head before sneaking out of bed, this was the first morning in a while that Lando woke up feeling refreshed and confident for the race, he was also early, early enough to make you breakfast.

He reached for the t-shirt that lay on the floor beside him before trotting his way to the kitchen. He began by making you both coffee before moving onto toast.

"Good morning" you said with a smiles, your voice still rough from just waking up "Well hello there princess, what woke you up?" he asks holding your hand that wrapped around his waist from behind

"The beautiful smell of coffee, and the cold bed. You're up early is everything okay?" you question, resting your head on his back "I'm feeling so good, about today, I got the best sleep last night, we've got so much time before we need to leave too" he smiles buttering your toast and sticking it in your mouth

You smile, taking it out your mouth “I’m glad” you say chewing covering a hand over your mouth “Are Max and Pietra awake?”

“I don’t think so” he smiles leaning down to kiss you

Neither you or Lando had mentioned all the kisses throughout the weekend, the ones in public and in private, but you were both enjoying whatever was going on.

“So today, I was thinking of wearing my new white summer dress, what do you think?” you tell him, sitting on the chair next to him “The one that you ordered last week?”

“Yeah”

“That’s nice, I like that” he nods pulling your legs up on top of his

--

Lando had decided to match your all white outfit today, he held your hand tightly entering the paddock, pulling you closer to him as people rushed by.

You could sense the rise of Lando's nerves, in attempt you comfort him you put your free hand on his bicep

"How are you feeling today Mr Pole Sitter?" Ted Kravitz asks walking up to you both with the camera crew in front of you "Feeling good, hopefully can perform well enough to get the win, got a lot of support here so it would be good to put a smile on peoples faces”

“And you’ve also got that support of your lovely best friend too” he nods and you and you smile at him “Yeah I love having my girlfriend at races with me, she’s my biggest supporter so”

“Oh i’m sorry i didn’t realise that you were finally in a relationship” he apologises “congratulations to you both”

You both thank him before heading into the McLaren garage, stopping to say hello to everyone

"I'm glad to see you here, I've missed you the full weekend" Will smiles opening his arms "Glad to see you too" you hug him "Stealing my girlfriend now are we?" Lando jokes wrapping an arm around your waist

"Wouldn't dream of breaking you two up, feeling good about today?" he asks Lando "Good aren't you" you answer before Lando says something negative "Yep all good" he rolls his eyes "Hey! I'm going to the bathroom, make sure I've not got moody Lando" you kiss him before leaving him with Will

"You're kissing now" Will smirks "I mean, yeah" Lando shrugs "There's no cameras about" the engineer pushes "We've actually had a few kisses back home" Lando says hiding a smile

"Well it's been a long time coming, just make sure your heads in the game today. I'm happy for you though" he pats Lando's shoulder "Trust me, that girl is the reason I'm feeling even the littlest bit confident today"

"Really?" Will asks turning to face him "Well yeah, she's the only one that really understands me. I just love her so much" he blushes

"So you're in love with her"

"What? No I'm not?" Lando scoffs "The way you talk about her is the way I first talked about my wife, now we have a child together. You need to realise how you feel about her without people telling you"

"And if I admitted I was in love with her?"

"Then you should tell her, the way she looks at you is the way Hayley looked at me. Get yourself ready mate"

Lando sighed, looking at Will one last time before heading to his drivers room where you were sat "Hi pretty boy, I've left your shirt out, your hats there too" you point to his chair

"Thank you, are you going to chill in here until the race?" he asks taking his shirt off "Yeah, I'm going to wait on Max and Pietra. I'll be watching"

"Good, I'll see you later. Let me know if you're going anywhere" he says leaning down "I will" you lean up to kiss him "Bye" he shouts leaving the room

-

As it got closer to lights out Lando walked around the garage talking to everyone he needed to, he sat with Will for a while before he needed to get into the car.

As he approached you, you knew what was coming. The dreaded moment you had before every single race.

“Be safe, I love you” you tell him, wrapping your arm around his waist “I promise I will. I love you too” he says holding out his pinky finger. You link yours with his and both of you kiss your hands.

He hugs you tightly, kissing your head before moving down to your lips.

“Come home”

“I always do” he winks before getting in the car

It never got any easier, it hadn’t since he first started in 2019. Watching him leave the garage not knowing what where he was going to finish after the race and your worst fear it he didn’t finish at all.

Max stood beside you, putting on a headset, in a selfish way you were glad he wasn’t racing anymore, it means you didn’t have to worry about two people, but you knew Max wished he continued, he could have made it to Formula 1.

“He’ll win” Max wraps an arm around your shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly “I know” you smile

“I just wish he knew that” he nods to Lando’s car on the screen “He’ll see what we see one day”

The race was tense, within the first lap six cars had locked up and people were losing positions. The upside to it was Lando keeping his place and Oscar moving up to P2, getting out of the mess without harm.

You could feel your heart beating against your chest, fighting to leave your body as the last lap of the race came closer.

Two laps to go.

He was seconds ahead of the cars behind him.

One lap to go.

The crew ran across to the pit wall, as Lando approached the final corner, as he crossed the line you could hear him screaming down the head set.

Your eyes filled up with tears, you turned to Max as he engulfed you in a hug jumping up and down.

As he came down the pit lane, you threw your head set off, pushing through the crowd of papaya to the front where Zak was.

He stood on the top of the car, throwing his hands in the air while everyone around you cheered. He took his helmet off running and jumping into the crowd of McLaren and eventually he was pulled to the other side of the barrier

“Where is she?” you saw Lando looking around, when he spotted you, he lifted you up hugging you tightly “I’m so proud of you Lando, you don’t know it”

“You’re the best, I love you, I love you so much”

“It was you that did it baby, get on the podium and get drenched in champagne”

He leans down kissing you before jumping over the barrier again. You let the nickname slip, you didn’t mean to say it but the way it made you feel was so good, it felt as if it was normal.

The media covered up how Lando felt about it, the way he was yapping in his interviews when the only thing he could think about was you and the nickname. “Baby” he wishes he could get used to that.

part 7

TAGS

@harrysdimple05 @ironmaiden1313 @charli123456789 @alltoomaples @jule239 @panicsinvirgo @cmleitora @blueberry64857959 @imboredway2much @landoslutmeout @obxstiles @morenofilm @formula1mount @dreamercrowd @brekkers-whore @sialexia @bokutos-babyowl @merchelsea @lexiecamposv @lunamelona @nightlockcornucopia

[peppermintquartz]

The storm is keeping Buck awake, and he hates it. He's got the curtains fully drawn, he is safely indoors, and he's just had two rounds of very good sex with Tommy, who's currently asleep on his side of the bed, a thick arm thrown around Buck's waist.

But Buck can't sleep. Every roll of thunder makes him flinch. Even the flickers of light that sneak onto the apartment walls make his eyes twitch. He bets that if he measures his pulse, it'll be racing. And he can feel his bad leg beginning to ache from the tension he's trying to contain in his body.

He wills himself to just close his eyes, tough it out. Maybe do the slow breathing thing those zazen meditation videos talk about.

After about twenty slow breaths he gives up. Carefully easing himself out from under Tommy's arm, he goes to the kitchen and sits at the table.

He's seen the scars after the lightning strike, branching out like roots of a tree. Something about it had scared Buck to his core that first time he saw it. It was a visceral reminder of the sheer power that had coursed through him that night, and how much it took the others to bring him back.

"Evan?" Tommy's voice filters down from the top of the stairs, quiet and curious. *Are you okay?"

That's his boyfriend, always checking in on him. Buck doesn't know what he has done in this lifetime to deserve Tommy, and he knows Tommy has the same question about Buck as well. He turns in his chair and smiles up at Tommy, even though it's probably too dim to see his expression. "I'm okay. Mostly. Did I wake you?"

"Not really, no. I thought you were using the bathroom." Tommy comes down the stairs without turning on the lights, already used to the layout. He comes up behind Buck and wraps an arm across the front of his shoulders, before kissing the top of Buck's head. "Mostly okay means something's not okay. What's not okay?"

Buck exhales a chuckle. "I love you, you know that?"

"I love you too." Tommy pulls a chair close and drops into it. He takes Buck's hands between his own. "And you're not answering me."

"The storm. Lightning." Buck swallows and lowers his head. Not shame, not exactly, but a little abashed at having to admit to a weakness. As if Tommy hasn't already admitted his fear of enclosed spaces and diving. As if Tommy doesn't have a near-pathological obsession to check their smoke alarms and CO detectors.

Tommy tugs Buck out of his chair and onto his lap, with minimal resistance from Buck. Tommy's chair squeaks a mild complaint. "Wake me up next time," Tommy scolds gently, nipping Buck's earlobe. "I can't hold back a storm, but I can hold you."

"You need the sleep, you have a 48 starting in another six hours."

"And I only have one Evan Buckley," Tommy counters. His embrace tightens around Buck, and it's a wonder how Buck never feels caged in or trapped with Tommy's arms around him. "I'm with you rain and shine, good and bad."

"Shouldn't it be 'or'?"

"No," says Tommy, his voice rough from sleep. "In every situation, I'm with you."

Buck smiles and kisses the tip of Tommy's nose. "Back to bed," he whispers. "Be my big spoon tonight. Maybe that will help."

It does help, a little. Buck doesn't really fall fully asleep, but he feels safe when his body twitches in response to each roll of thunder. And through the night, Tommy doesn't let him go.

--

edit: now on AO3

[bakugoushotwife]

𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 // 𝖙𝖜𝖔: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗

↳ cw: minors dni, dark content. proceed at your own risk. pentrative sex x2, riding, doggy, nothing really crazy here tbh, pregnancy, soft sukuna, human!sukuna, good husband fr. ↳ series masterlist ↳ jjk masterlist

you wake up the next morning enveloped in a warmth of an embrace you’ve never known. the sun was filtered red through the sheer curtain hanging over the window; the air a peaceful kind of quiet. you smile in remembrance, at the ache in your muscles and the realization of your new husband’s hard chest beneath you. he snores, you discover, every gentle breath bringing a little growl from his lips. you stifle a giggle to avoid waking him up. you have to smother out a hiss as you adjust yourself on him for the same reason—two more discoveries coming in tow–well three. you were still naked and impaled by a hard cock. now, you had heard stories of this. the old women of your village spoke of the differences between the male and female anatomy and this was one of the biggest inconveniences of being a man–so you’ve been told. men wake up nearly every morning with erections—simply a blood flow effect. however different from most men, it seems not even your husband could avoid such a problem. 

only, it’s creating a problem for you. he’s so big your hips are sore from keeping them in this position for so long–a sweet ache you know you’ll learn to live with. but besides that, you’re having flashbacks to last night, the glorious feeling of being fucked for the first time. you were so meek and unsure, but now…you feel a bit bolstered. it’s like your hips have a mind of their own, whispering to you that the only way to soothe the pain is by using the muscles. he’s asleep, your conquering king of a man. and surely, if being his wife meant being readily available for him to make use of—then the same would also be true in reverse, right? so you lick your lips, blinking the bleariness of sleep out of your eyes, and then push yourself up to lean back on him; his snoring hitches immediately. your eyes dart to study his face, to see if he’s caught you in your sneaky act. but he doesn’t move, his eyes remain closed and still. you’re safe. you set your brow in determination, getting your knees under you properly. 

your heart thumps loudly in your chest. you swear that will wake him before your movements do. but you can’t deny it’s exhilarating. you know you have nothing to fear even if you do wake him after all; except maybe him taking control for himself and ruining your ability to stand for another day. you’re awkward and unsure with your movements like a newborn fawn, slowly rocking back and forth with your head tossed back. you were still naked from the previous nights’ marriage festivities, as was he. so feeling him raw and bare was no issue, a hand sneaking up to fondle your own chest. little satisfied sighs and breathy moans roll freely, a gorgeous melody for anyone’s ears. 

sukuna, of course, has been awake for nearly an hour at this point. he woke up before even you, still soaking in the reality that he has a beautiful little wife tucked away on his cock. that this wasn’t all some realistic dream or cruel technique of an enemy. he spent every second admiring the way your body inhaled and exhaled; the part of your lips and flutter of your lashes as you slept against his heartbeat. he got to spend forever like this, with mornings like these, your supple body tangled up in his own firm one, your soft breasts resting like pillows beneath you. this was too good to be true. 

when you started to rouse, he quickly feigned sleep. part of him wanted to see if you would admire him in the same way he did you—but you were doing one better. it was growing more and more difficult to fake his slumber, your perfect little body bouncing up and down on him, his eyes cracked just wide enough to see your pouty lips purse with the need to shower him in their kisses; cock twitching inside you with the way your tits bounced with every slam down on his monstrous cock. you lean forward, stifling little whimpers as your pussy hugs and squeezes the very life out of him. your lips find his, and he struggles to stay limp and unresponsive. you whine with need, your dainty fingers tracing the calcified mask on his face. he can’t pretend anymore, kissing you back with the unbridled passion you always get from him. you squeal with a mix of surprise and happiness upon realizing that he’s awake, leaning back with a giggle. 

“good morning, husband.” you greet, a lazy smile with lidded eyes, panting with pleasure. 

“what a good morning indeed, my little wife.” he purrs, his voice sending quivers to your pussy. the deep rasp of it was intoxicating, it almost embarrasses you how responsive your body is to it. his massive hands stabilize the width of your hips, a lazy smirk donning his own features. “go on, my queen. make yourself cum with your husband’s cock.” he insists, fire blazing in those already crimson eyes. 

he has such a way with words. your pussy clamps around him again, fits of spasms causing you to flutter as well as rock your hips. he was sensitive from sheathing himself inside of your cozy cunt all night, and the way you look and sound doesn’t help matters. he knows he only has minute before you both cum, and these are minutes he’ll cherish until he gets to do it again tonight. 

“ryo–men!” you whimper brokenly, the sound of it like a chant to his ears—a name he used to despise hearing upon the lips of others was a treasure coming from you. sukuna was too formal for his wife to use with him, he certainly used your name enough. your head bobs quickly, brows pinching in sheer pleasure. it’s the telltale sign, he’s discovered, that you’re close to cumming beautifully. 

“yes, my precious little lamb, cum for me…” he demands in a tone that declared nothing but his fondness for you. your body shudders forward, jumping to obey his command, everything tightens up; your cunt around his cock, your legs on either side of his thick torso, even your pretty nipples harden up again. then he feels the gush of fluid coat his stiff length before that erupts inside you too. you slump against the comfort of his tattooed chest, purring happily at the feeling of his seed. you are trying to turn that into an heir for him after all. his hearty chuckles bring you back to the present moment, where his hands brace your hips. “what a pleasant way to start my day, little lamb.”

you smile, sitting up to meet his smitten red eyes. “i hope we spend most of our mornings this way.” you nod, just the silky sheet wrapped around your little frame. he arches a brow at that, a lazy grin that still clearly came from this softened morning state of him. 

“most? not all~” he teases, sitting up to pepper kisses to your face; his arms tighten around your back, biceps flexing to hold you taut to his body. this was a version of him that was only for you, you decided, the morning time has nothing to do with it. 

“i think my legs may fall off if i try to do that every morning–” you giggle, the sound so beautifully relaxing to his mind he can do nothing but laugh with you. that’s so foreign, laughing from a place of genuine joy instead of malice or brutal teasing. but it feels good. it feels like something he could get used to in your presence, a delight he could only indulge in with you. you were warm and kind and soft, the antithesis of everything he was. but you were also bold, and fiery, and honest—other traits he values just as much as waking up body on body. you complete him, a total monster, with your good humor and even temper–there is no doubt about it, you are the love of his life. 

and he would do anything to protect you. 

when a knock sounds at the door, he finds himself tucking you behind him with his left arms, staring at the heavy wood to register the energy behind it. he grunts his relief, covering you properly with the other fur blankets of the mattress. 

“you may enter, uraume.” his deep voice thundered , giving you a nod of reassurance as the knob clicks to open. in struts someone in long robes and white hair styled in a bob, red streaks around the center. 

“sukuna-sama,” they bow deeply, tucking their hands inside their sleeves. “good morning. i hope you had a good rest.” you feel something akin to jealousy bubbling in your gut. they bow again. “my queen, i am honored to meet you. i am your humble servant, please send for me should you need anything.” they hum. 

“good, good. get us breakfast.” sukuna smirks, fond of the unsure smile on your face. not only do you love him, but you’ll get jealous over him? and that fact fills him with such pride he doesn’t know what else to do but smirk. oh the surprises you’re showing him daily…

uraume bows once more and exits the room on a mission to get their boss and his new wife something to eat. 

“uraume is an outcast like i was. i have cared for them as my servant since we came across each other. they are loyal–but i can promise there is nothing to worry about, my love.” he says tenderly. you don’t doubt him, you would never doubt him. but his words put you at ease. you nod a few times, twisting to give him another kiss before slipping out of bed to freshen up before the faithful servant returns to see you so disheveled. 

he grabs your cheek before you can escape him completely, “you trust me.” 

your eyes bounce between the mask and his plain eye. “of course i do.” you grin, “i’m just going to get dressed for the day!” you hum, leaning into the warmth that takes up your entire head and face. he smiles softly.

“good, we have a big day ahead of us.” he says, admiring the glow to your skin, the happiness crinkling your eyes. “we’ll have an official coronation by the end of the week. the people from the lands i have conquered will recognize their rulers or die.” he hums, a pleasant lilt to his voice even when he’s saying something vicious like that. “then we’ll focus on the renovations to the castle and building our family.” 

your heart thumps. he has such big plans, all of which include you. he wants to create a life with you, for you. the strongest man on the planet wants you to be the mother of his children and rightful queen in ruling alongside him—something he wants to share with you. he has all the power in the world to make you completely and utterly subservient to him—to take what he wants and not waste his time on anything else. marrying at all spoke volumes, but the genuine love he handles you with is enamoring in and of itself. 

“i can’t wait. planning will be fun. i love to host.” you wiggle your hips, opening your closet to find some robes for the day. he lays on his side and lovingly watches you comb through your hair and wash your face clean. your body is littered with lovebites from the night before, some only reddened from his added attention this morning. you’re so radiant to a point he almost doesn’t want anyone to look at you. but alas, you’re a natural born leader and a queen too perfect to hide away. even if that will manifest his own jealousy. your happiness is his primary goal—something he never thought he would say. 

uraume returns with omurice for the two of you, and eagerly discusses plans about the coronation with you. they will spread the word immediately so that the subjects from far and wide may travel in for the event. and uraume will contact the finest architects to start bringing sukuna’s designs to life. your excitement is palpable by the time you finish breakfast. 

the rest of the week ticks by without much fanfare. the two of you have settled in your makeshift palace—or castle as sukuna has taken to calling it. your life as a married woman is lavish. someone brings you your food and runs your bath water for you, braids your hair as soon as it’s combed through—which your husband insists on doing himself. he dotes on you in all of his spare time, working tirelessly to “welcome” all the travelers into the growing city he was proud to call home. this was his wife’s birthplace, of course he would erect your lives here. 

the night before the coronation, he comes to bed later than usual. “some of these nasty little gremlins talk incessantly–” he complains, finding you in a tight silken nightgown laying atop the sheets. you seemingly know what you do to him. it’s already hard not to destroy your little body, and then you have to go and provoke him–

“i missed you.” you purr, crawling on your knees to the end of the bed. oh the desire burning through his veins is ominous for you. you may have to be crowned seated tomorrow. “i know you were so busy today…let’s unwind?” you sit back on your haunches. he would move mountains to keep you here like this forever. 

his eyes siren in on you, merely a wolf preying on his lamb. “i missed you too, tiny queen.” he stalks forward, pawing at the breadth of your hips, the swells of your breast. “you know just how to make a bothersome day better.” he mutters, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning over your skin—raising goosebumps in its wake. the simple touch of his hands mixed with the feeling of his voice rumbling against your veins had your eyes shutting to try and tame the yearning stinging in your pussy. “i want to put my children in you.”

a small moan slips past your lips. your black widow technique is suited for it, just an added ability to be fertile since it’s related to animals and mother earth. his promises to breed you only activated a very deep seeded part of you that only he can satisfy. he eases you back, turning you to a position on your knees. you brace yourself, the chill of excitement racing down your spine. his large hand smoothes against the soft pudge of your belly, prompting you to sink in against it in the most perfect arch. 

“i’ll be nestled in so nicely my little lamb,” he promises, the deep silken baritone of his voice has you clenching, the familiar wetness drooling down your thighs. you’re so easily worked up. but he can’t bring himself to just take from you, his inability to say how much he loves you easily replaced by his need to show it. his hand angles lower, calloused middle finger petting back the hood of your precious clit, your breath catching in your throat. “so deep i’ll cum straight into your womb.” 

just his presence makes your head woozy. that’s before the gentle circles to your swollen bundle, before his strong body pressed against your back had your knees wobbling against the mattress. he found it adorable that your hips moved on their own, grinding into his hand to seek your own pleasure. he loved watching it, loved listening to your little whimpers as you processed just how good a few of his digits could make you feel. “so much cum, drown your poor insides,” he sighs in faux boredom, grinning as you fling your head back with a gasp. “do it, go ahead.” 

and how could you not? the perfect combination of touch and taunts to get you to the precipice. your orgasm shatters your insides, eyes widening at the intensity. that’s a feeling you’ll never entirely get used to no matter how many times sukuna gives it to you. he chuckles fondly, tapping your swelling cunt. you hear the shuffle of fabric and then you feel it; his weighty cockhead dripping against your entrance. “that’s a good little wife, let’s see how many you can handle on my cock…” 

your hands fist the sheets, body going rigid to accommodate his size in this position. it hurts so blisteringly good, lightning sparkling in your vision as he, as promised, prods at your poor cervix, in for a long ride tonight. his hands position themselves on your hips, drawing the fat of your ass along the fat length of him, eliciting wanton moan after wanton moan from you. you stretch your arms out in front of you like a cat, grunting and whining from the way his hips collide with your asscheeks. it’s all you can hear though, even drowning out the sounds of your own moans. he’s drilling you; cramming inches of dick in such a small space he can’t believe you’re real. no wonder he’s so taken with you. he goes impossibly harder–faster, your arms giving out beneath you–face collapsing into the bed. 

“ryo—” your voice is muffled from the sheets, body crumpled up beneath him. oh it’s so hard not to break you entirely—only out of his utter love for you is he able to keep a clear mind, be thankful that you have enamored him so. your hands brace against the headboard, nails scratching at the wood in front of you, vision completely blacked out–the only thing you can think of is how fuzzy you feel all over. 

“cum, i’ll turn you over and keep going.” he growls against your shoulder, looping an arm around your neck to put you in a secured headlock. it’s not choking, but it’s suffocating all the same. the cushion of his strapping bicep makes you drool from both ends, spasming around your husband’s cock for the nth time since you’ve been married. his voice commands such obedience, so domineering in the way that he orders you cum for him. your body physically cannot disobey. 

his grin is devilish once he feels the warm rush, and he stays good on his promise, flipping you to a more comfortable position on your back. “that��s one…” he hums softly, picking up your legs at their bend, pinning them to his hips as he slides back in. you scream out at the added pressure, the stimulation so much to endure at the hands of your passionate husband.

instantly, he’s rocking slowly. you know there’s a plan, a secret bite. he’s hitting you so deep, smacking into your breeding spot each and every time, warming it up to the idea of taking every drop of him. your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat, lips swollen and pink from all the chewing on them to quiet yourself. your gorgeous tits bounce to punctuate every thrust–he can’t get enough of you. he puts your legs on his shoulders with a little snarl, nipping at the skin on your neck. 

you’re drifting blissfully in waves of pleasure, barely conscious already. “so beautiful, fucked out, making cream on my dick..” he chuckles into your ear, licking the shell and nipping the lobe before giving you a hungry kiss. it demonstrates his true passion, his genuine worship of his wife. his hips snap a little faster, mouth angled over yours to swallow up all your moans. “so good for her husband. taking me so very well..” 

he ends up drawing four orgasms out of you total. tomorrow he’ll try five—in the name of celebration of course! you’ll officially be king and queen tomorrow. and he intends to keep such festivities going for as long as he can. for once, sukuna has a lot to celebrate. 

the next day, uraume is stretched thin trying to attend to you both. you require the most attention, as your hair and robes are rather intricate and need assistance to put together. but sukuna is impatient and doesn’t like to be separated from you for any length of time, so he insists on changing in the room with you and sitting with you as your hair is braided and weaved. no one would have pegged him as the clingy type—but it does make sense when you think on it past his brute surface. you are the only person he has ever cherished. putting you in danger was something he just simply wasn’t willing to do. problem is, he considers anywhere out of his immediate sight as danger. 

eventually though, you’re dressed like the queen you’re soon to become. sukuna wore simply ravishing black robes, allowing all the color and decor for his beautiful bride. he smiles at you as you step off of the stool in all your glory. 

“you look beautiful in that…you always do.” he says with a nearly dopey expression on his face. he reaches for your hand and tucks it around his bicep, leading you out on the terrace overlooking the crowd. a raucous roar greets the two of you a you come into the scene, red and black flowing fabric swaying with the gentle breeze; highlighting the complexion of your skin and the warmth of your smile. 

a town shaman performs the crowning rite. it’s short and simple, your crowns anything but. while the general consensus of the crowd seems pleasant, you can pick out a few less than satisfied faces out amongst the rest of your new congregation–a hubbub of your old one. sukuna takes your hand once again, standing before everyone on an elevated platform, leaving without another word. no grand speech, no slaughtering to strike fear into their hearts. just the faint smile as he leads you back to the quarters you’ve come to love so much.

you almost expect him to get straight to it, fiddling with the tie on your dress robes, but he helps you with a gentle hand. he’s still in disbelief, honestly. these are dreams he hadn’t even dared to dream before. you make everything better. it’s…shocking. he helps you into your regular nightgown, disrobing on his own. “how does it feel..? to officially be queen–my queen?” he asks as he peels back the covers for you. he seems eager to pick your brain, and you know it’s his way of figuring out how he feels exactly too.

“i feel good. i feel like we have a lot to do, and we have a lot of support and ability to make this a really successful reign, my love.” you smile. laying on your side to look at him. he’s mirroring your posture, reaching out to paw at your hips, bringing you closer, wrapping his frame around yours in a tight hug. “i feel like we’ve already accomplished so much in bringing all these people together!” 

your answer brings a smile to his face. he should have known it would be some optimistic cute utterance like that, you’re genuinely too sweet sometimes. “how about you? how do you feel?” 

“i feel…like i am dreaming.” he replies, nuzzling his nose against yours. the gesture makes your heart swell and heat up. you just spend a few moments gazing at each other. 

“you’re not dreaming.” you whisper between you, fluttering lashes just flirting with him. a grin spreads his cheeks. 

“come here and prove it.” 

he gives you the promised five orgasms that night, and your body is so spent you sleep through most of the next day, spending those remaining daylight hours out in the flower field on a picnic date with your husband. 

the next week was spent hosting the contractors and architects, sitting in on the meetings with your king husband to weigh in on your own designs and choices. it’s fun to see everything laid out so simply, every image and description the two of you have was brought to life. the cobblestone kitchen idea, the long hallways, the wrapping stairs and canopy bed. all of it. 

the week after that, they start construction. it’s been about two and a half months into your marriage–two months have passed already? how could that be?

“m’lady? lunch.” uraume’s voice rips you from your own head. you had yet to drag yourself out of bed this morning. you hadn’t been feeling very well at all the past few days, and the idea of eating whatever that awful smell was had your stomach bubbling. uraume hadn’t even fully entered the room yet, seeing you sneer at your food, they sigh heavily. “what is it, do you not like my cooking all of a sudden?”

your husband got up on schedule to oversee some of the work being done today and was no doubt sending his most loyal servant in to check on you. you really were feeling horrible, if it weren’t for their usefulness you’d have half a mind to be annoyed with sukuna for sending them. you shake your head fervently. 

“no–i dunno, there must be some flu going around, i’m sure it will pass.” you sigh, snuggling the blankets up to your face. 

“let me bring the healer. perhaps she has a tonic to ease your nausea. or perhaps it’s the news you’ve been waiting for, my queen.” they say with a giddy little grin. their reminder has you gasping. 

“yes, please fetch her. do not tell the king until we know for certain, please?” you ask hopefully. it’s always a tough sell to have uraume keep anything away from sukuna. but to your surprise, they nod. this is news that you should break yourself. 

sure enough, uraume returns with the village healer nearly an hour later. sukuna is still tied up with the building plans—you can hear him yelling orders from your bedroom—but you’re actually grateful to be without him for now. you lay down for her and answer her questions about your marriage dates and your last bleeding. 

she feels your stomach, listening with a tool you’ve never seen before. 

“ahh~ seems your servant had the right idea. it seems the queen is pregnant. congratulations.” she bows her head deeply, your eyes filling with tears as you exchange a sweet look with uraume, how special for them to be a part of this moment. 

“thank you–” you manage with a gasp, absolutely over the moon, needing desperately to see your husband. this was news you’d never be able to keep to yourself for long. uraume seems to know exactly what you’re thinking; offering to fetch him instantly. 

you stand at the foot of your bed, pacing in wait. you have no idea what uraume said to draw him in your direction, and you’re hurrying to think of a good way to share the news. you didn’t have very long, your husband bursting into the room with panicked eyes searching over you. 

“uraume says the healer was here—are you alright?” he says, his lower set of hands reaching for yours. your grin blossoms, betraying every intention you had of playing coy. 

“i’m fine, my love. i’m more than fine. i’m pregnant!” you squeal, the news like someone sucked the air out of his lungs. you squeeze his hands, beautifully happy—contagiously happy. it’s finally real, you’re going to grow the family. you’re making all his dream reality. he blinks at you, wondering if that was just his active imagination. 

“what?” he blinks, bringing you closer, holding your hips, “say it again.” 

“i’m pregnant, sukuna. we’re going to have a baby. a little heir!!” you grin from ear to ear, being scooped up in his strong arms a second later. you’re spinning around the room in a fit of giggles, his touch secure and tight. 

if you thought your husband was clingy before, good luck getting him to leave your side now.

tags: @neon-crow @skypperlegacy @gis4greenandgreenisgre4t @secondos-slut @alltimenogoaway-blog @tragedyofabrokensoul @eiaaasamantha asukahiriko2 @t4naiis @thejujvtsupost @mymelx @maskedpacific @berranurates @enchantingartisanwitch @alastors-radio @gojosukuna2268 @hannas16 @alwaysfreakingout @thepurpleempath

[rad-batson]

The Batkids and The Arts (Feral Edition)

They’re all musical theatre nerds. Every single one of them. Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Cass, Jason, Steph, Tim, Duke, Damian. They go see Broadway shows together then don’t stop talking about it for like a week. It is the one bonding activity they will never pass up.

Jason and Steph once entered a ballroom dancing competition and won after some pompous rich kids insulted their moves during a gala. Since then, they’ve entered a competition every month or so just for fun. (And for the prize money :P)

Tim is an avid believer that Culinary Art is one of The Arts. (Can he cook? Absolutely not. It was Bernard that convinced him, but he stands by it.)

Duke talks through every single movie he watches. He always promises to be quiet at the beginning, but then he gets too excited and whispers commentary to the people around him. This habit has since bled into the entire family. They are no longer welcome at the local AMC.

Every single one of them is pretentious about something.

Dick is pretentious about any and all performance arts featured at the circus. Once, someone made a joke about going to “Clown School” and Dick screamed at them about how not even their pinky would have the privilege of being admitted into clown school.

Jason is pretentious about classic literature. They can no longer tell if his jokes and references to Shakespeare and Jane Austen are correct or if he’s just fucking with them.

Cass gets pretentious about martial arts being a performance art. She is also pretentious about ballet being a martial art. She could kill a man in fifth position without losing her balance, and that’s a fucking fact.

Stephanie is very good at acting pretentious about the arts. She absorbs everything she’s learned from the rest of the bat family’s interests then pretends to be pretentious about it to mock them while sneaking in just enough correct information so no one can call her out on it. (Her true interest is graphic design.)

Tim has no professional experience with photography, but he will be pretentious about it like he knows everything. (Bruce: Tim, why is there a filter on this evidence photo you took? Tim: I thought it looked nicer that way. Really makes the blood splatter pop.)

Duke isn’t exactly pretentious about writing, but he will lay down his life for the Oxford comma. (Bruce didn’t use it until Duke called the punctuation in his mission reports “insulting.” He now uses it.)

Damian is pretentious about studio art. If he ever hears his family or friends say, “I don’t get it,” at an art museum, he will make them look at it for five minutes as he explains in painstaking detail what’s so revolutionary about it.

The kids decided to take an improv class together once for their undercover work while Bruce and Alfred were out of town. It was so fun that they still play improv games when they’re bored.

Cass is secretly a metalhead.

Whenever one of the younger kids needs to write an English paper, they will just walk up to Jason, riddle off a dumb opinion about the book or poem they had to read, and record whatever Jason ends up lecturing them about. The most recent incident resulted in an award-winning paper about how the theory that William Shakespeare never wrote his own work is deeply rooted in classism.

Damian always has paint under his nails. It just never comes out.

Dick has personally taught everyone in the family how to do The Perfect Backflip. They all get a little ceremony once they’ve mastered it. There is cake.

Whenever Cass is standing around with nothing to do, she’ll practice her foot positions for ballet. The others always notice and follow her lead.

Jason: dramatically recites a poem in the living room Steph: starts beatboxing

Steph is always the first to find typos or continuity errors in a book, play, or movie. She doesn’t intend to; it’s just second nature to her. (She is now Duke’s official proofreader.)

Duke: So how’d you like the movie? Damian: I really loved the mise-en-scène, especially during the breakfast scene and that one shot near the end with the warehouse doors. Duke: *nods thoughtfully* Everyone Else Leaving the Theater: wtf is a meez on sen?

When Duke is finished writing something and wants to share it with his family, he’ll give it to Jason and Cass first.

Jason and Duke have frequent passionate arguments discussions about who is the best poet. Never bring up Dickinson, Poe, Shakespeare, Hughes, Plath, Wilde, Kipling, Sappho, or Angelou in their vicinity unless you want to start it up again.

Damian is surprisingly good at acting. Too good.

Dick knows your music taste before you do. He has a carefully curated playlist for every single family member, every possible combination of family members, and every possible mood at the ready.

They can and will correct anyone who mistakes Gothic architecture for Victorian or Gothic Revival and vice versa. (It’s really a Gotham thing.)

Tim: How dare you call The Grand Budapest Hotel the best prison break movie when it’s clearly The Shawshank Redemption! Jason: Well, as someone who’s BEEN TO PRISON, I think I should know! Dick: It’s clearly Chicken Run! You’re all just Chicken-ist. Duke: But what about Midnight Express?! That one’s so good! Steph: Has anyone mentioned Toy Story 3 yet? No? Damian, watching from the sidelines: I liked Escape from Alcatraz. Cass: Same.

There are several art pieces in the manor that have been positioned directly over top of bullet holes and other suspicious damages.

Damian and Duke made an animated short film once for the Gotham Film Festival. Dick and Cass were their models for the concept art. Tim did historical research. Jason helped Duke edit the storyboard, and Steph was the continuity supervisor. It was about a British super spy working for MI6 that saved the world in the late 70’s. It was titled Agent A.

[patches-am]

For tumblr can i request one where vada cavell makes r sneak out in the middle of the night due to her being scared after the shooting?

yesterday still leaking through the roof

pairings: vada cavell x reader

word count: 1.13k

warnings: mentions of school shooting a very small amount of strong language

In the aftermath of the school tragedy, the days at school have taken on a somber tone, with the haunting memory of what occurred still lingering. An empty seat in your classroom serves as a stark reminder of a student who lost their life that day. It's a heavy burden to bear.

Vada, in particular, is finding it hard to cope. She hasn't been back to school since it happened. Late at night, she often sends you messages, sometimes even showing up at your doorstep. To her, you're like a comforting presence, someone she can lean on when the weight of her emotions becomes too much to bear.

Another school day concludes, and Vada's absence is still palpable. You return home, feeling the exhaustion tugging at your eyelids. You drop your backpack to the floor and collapse onto your bed. Homework beckons, but the call of sleep is even stronger.

You're jolted awake by a barrage of notifications on your phone. The room is cloaked in darkness, with only the faint glow of streetlights filtering in. You squint at your phone, checking the time.

2:17 AM. Shit.

Your nap stretched far longer than planned. The brightness of your phone screen momentarily blinds you, leaving an imprint of your lockscreen in your vision.

As you scroll through the notifications, you see:

blah-blah liked your story…

And a notification about someone commenting on someone else's post- because you definitely needed to know that.

Then, there are the texts from Vada:

vada 🖤 - please come over now

-

vada 🖤 - y/nn i need you

-

vada 🖤 - a car backfired outside and it scared the absolute hell out of me sounded like a gunshot dude

There it is, Vada reaching out at an ungodly hour. But this time, there's an urgency in her messages that's different.

You rub the sleep from your eyes and sigh. The thought of leaving your warm bed to sneak out into the night isn't appealing, but you can't ignore her. She's not just seeking attention—something has truly shaken her. The shooting left everyone raw, but for Vada, it feels like she's barely holding on.

You rise slowly, pulling a hoodie over your rumpled shirt. The cold air hits your face as you crack open the window, your usual escape route without waking anyone. You've done this enough times that it feels routine.

The neighborhood is silent except for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves.

You text Vada as you make your way down the street, heading towards her house.

y/n - omw now. 10 min tops

You hope she sees it, but knowing her, she's probably glued to her phone, waiting. You quicken your pace, your breath visible in the chilly night air.

When you reach her house, you spot her silhouette by the window, the light from inside casting a faint outline. She must've been waiting there the whole time. The thought of how fragile she's become tugs at your heart.

You approach her porch quietly and send her a final text to announce your arrival.

y/n - outside. open up

Her response is immediate.

vada 🖤 - ok, door’s unlocked

You turn the handle and step inside, greeted by the familiar scent of her perfume. The house is dimly lit, with only a soft glow from a lamp in the living room casting long shadows.

Vada sits on the couch, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. The moment she sees you, relief washes over her face, but there's a storm in her eyes, a weight she's carrying.

“You okay?” you ask gently, already knowing the answer.

She shakes her head, eyes downcast. “No… Not really.”

You sit beside her, close enough that your knees almost touch. Vada shifts, resting her head on your shoulder, exhaling shakily. She's always needed closeness, especially after the shooting. You're not sure if it's for reassurance or just to feel alive.

“What happened?” you ask softly, concern etched in your voice.

Vada hesitates, fingers fidgeting with her hoodie. You can see the tension in her shoulders. Finally, she speaks, voice trembling. “A car backfired outside. It just—” she pauses, “sounded exactly like… like when it happened.”

Your heart aches, and you wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer. “It’s okay, Vada. I’m here now.”

She nods, face pressed into your hoodie. For a moment, you sit in silence, the weight of her fear palpable. Her grip on your hand is tight, a reminder of how fragile everything has been since that day.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, not wanting to push but knowing she might need to share the burden.

Vada is quiet for a long time, breathing shallow. Then, she whispers, “I can’t stop thinking about it. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there. I keep seeing them—seeing the ones who didn’t make it. I see the blood. I hear the gunshots. And I… I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m suffocating.”

Her words hit you hard. You knew she was struggling, but hearing it aloud, understanding the depth of her trauma, feels like a punch to the gut.

“I wish I could make it stop for you,” you say softly, rubbing her back. “I wish I could take all of this away.”

Vada lifts her face to look at you, eyes red-rimmed with sadness. “You being here helps,” she says. “It’s the only thing that helps.”

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of her reliance on you. You want to be strong for her, to be her anchor, but there's a part of you that's scared too—scared that you might not be enough.

But you don't let that show. Instead, you pull her closer, resting your chin on her head. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper. “You can text me whenever, call me whenever, and I’ll be here. Always.”

Vada sighs, her body relaxing slightly against you, though the tension never fully leaves. “I’m sorry I keep dragging you into this,” she murmurs. “I don’t mean to… I just don’t know how to deal with it.”

“You’re not dragging me into anything, Vada. I’m here because I care. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

She doesn't respond, but her grip on your hand tightens. You sit together in the quiet, the weight of the night pressing down. There's no easy fix, no words to make it better. But for now, being here with her—being her support—feels like enough.

Eventually, Vada's breathing slows, her body leaning more heavily against you as she drifts toward sleep. You adjust your position, ensuring she's comfortable, and settle in for the night, knowing you'll stay until morning.

Because right now, she needs you. And that's all that matters.

[monster-disaster]

Hi darling, i see you have some somnophilia works.. May i sprinkle my current hyperfixation in? You have a stalker vampire who lives in your attic and feeds at night, either on you or goes out in the neighborhood. You start to have a sneaking suspicion you're being watched until you catch him. He can turn into a bat and creep through the attic door to get inside easily... He falls in love with you when you're up late singing, drawing, and cooking/showering. Um... And maybe he can see you in the shower through a vent in the ceiling 🫣 thank you i love your writing mwah

vampire!stalker x human!Reader Good to know: stalking

And you know what the funny thing is? You were the one who put him in your attic one morning when you were just about to get into your car and leave. By sheer luck, you happened to notice him curled up under your car, right behind one of the front wheels.

"Oh," you gasped at the sight. "You poor thing." Without thinking, you knelt beside the car, your heart softening as you took in the little creature’s vulnerable form. He looked so fragile, so out of place in the daylight. You extended a cautious hand, murmuring soothing words as you gently scooped him up. His small body was colder than you expected, but for a moment, he seemed to settle into your palm, as if relieved to be found. “You don’t have much survival skill, do you?” The thought of what might have happened if you hadn’t noticed him made you shudder. “You’re lucky I didn’t drive over you. But don’t worry, I know just the place where you’ll be safe.” Cradling him close, you turned back toward the house. You moved through the familiar hallway, your footsteps soft on the wooden floor as you made your way to the attic. The space was rarely used, cluttered with old memories and forgotten things, but it was quiet and safe, perfect for a little bat in need of shelter. “You’ll be safe here until it gets dark,” you murmured as you set him down in a cozy corner, carefully lining it with the soft fabric from an old box that had seen better days. You could feel the cool air of the attic as you moved, and after a moment’s hesitation, you left the window slightly open, just enough to give him a way out whenever he felt ready. You watched him for a few seconds longer, making sure he was comfortable, before closing the attic door with a quiet click. Two days passed before he crossed your mind again, but when you pushed open the attic door, the corner where you’d left him was empty.

You hoped the small animal was fine, but you had no idea that your story with him was far from over. At first, he genuinely wanted to stay away, but you lingered so vividly in his memory that he couldn't keep himself from returning. At first, he stayed only in your attic, listening to the sounds of your life around the house.

Your house was old, with creaking floorboards and doors that groaned on their hinges. The attic was dim and dusty, cobwebs stretching across the corners. The only light came through the window, filtering the moon’s glow into pale patches and deep shadows on the ground. He had spent countless nights here over the past few weeks, silently observing as the house lived and breathed around him, while he remained still and unseen in the darkness. Below, a door closed softly, followed by the gentle padding of footsteps across the floor. He tilted his head slightly, listening to you move through the house. You were humming a tune you'd recently heard on the radio. A soft, quiet sound that carried through the otherwise still air. He heard your steps as you climbed the stairs, and moments later, music began to drift upward through the floorboards. It was upbeat, with a woman’s voice accompanied by a guitar keeping the rhythm. The vampire shifted slightly, careful not to disturb the thick layer of dust on the floor. You had no idea he was there, and he preferred it that way. He took pleasure in your unawareness. Next, the steady sound of water pattering against tile reached his ears as you stepped into the shower, still humming and singing softly to yourself. For a long second, the dark wall in front of him disappeared as he imagined you in the bathroom with your head slightly tilted back as you washed down the shampoo. The white suds of the soap gently slipped down on your bare body, following the lines of your curves. He had to force himself to stay still. Soon, the water stopped, and after a few moments, he heard the soft slap of your bare feet on the bathroom tiles, and then on the hallway floor. He could smell the fresh, clean scent of your shampoo and lotions drifting into his sensitive nose. Quickly, you returned to your bedroom, the music still playing softly in the background. There was a pause as you opened your wardrobe and pulled out a drawer, followed by the rustling of fabric as you dressed in something comfortable and warm. Now, he could hear your breathing and the steady beat of your heart, which seemed to align with the music. Your room was just below the attic. So close. You sighed softly, and he imagined you sinking into the bed. The old springs of the mattress groaned under your weight. He stayed all night, hidden in the shadows. After all, he had all the time in the world.

Of course, his need to get closer to you, to see you, grew over time. After a few months, hiding in your attic wasn't enough anymore, and he became bolder. At first, he came out only after you had fallen asleep.

The night was still as the vampire silently came down from the attic, making his way straight to your room. The old house seemed to hold its breath as he moved, careful not to disturb the quiet of your home. The faint, lingering scent of your recent shower still hung in the air, mingling with the cool night breeze that slipped through the cracks. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a faint, silvery glow over your sleeping form. Your breathing was slow and even. You were blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked so close. He could easily reach out and touch you if he wished, and the thought sent a thrill through him. He stood by your bedside for a long moment, his gaze tracing the soft lines of your face, the fluttering of your lashes as you dreamed, and the gentle rise and fall of your chest. His fingertips tingled with the urge to reach out, just for a second, just to feel the warmth of your skin beneath his touch. There was something calming about you, something that eased the centuries-old hunger that gnawed at him. The memory of you holding his bat form so carefully and softly was vivid in his memory. Your palms were warm around his small body as your chest vibrated with every word you said to keep him calm. Almost without thinking, his hand moved, brushing over the line of your jaw from your ear to your chin. His touch was feather-light, barely a whisper against your skin, but the sensation sent a shiver through him. You were so warm, so alive. You stirred slightly, your body shifting beneath the covers, but you did not wake. The vampire froze, his hand lingering for a moment longer, savoring the contact, before he slowly drew it back. His fingers curled into a tight fist as he kept himself from reaching out again. He remained there for a few minutes, motionless, watching as you settled back into your dreams, completely unaware of the dark figure standing guard over you. He wanted to stay, to linger by your side until the first light of dawn, but he knew he couldn’t risk it. Not yet. With a final, reluctant glance, he began to retreat, slipping back into the shadows where he belonged. But he would return. He was certain of that.

It didn't take long for him to crave more. Soon, seeing you asleep wasn't enough.

The door of your bathroom was ajar, just enough for him to peer inside without being noticed. Steam curled out from the small gap, warm and fragrant, carrying the scent of your soap and shampoo into the cool air. It filled his nostrils as he edged closer without a sound. You stood under the spray, your head tilted back, eyes closed as the water cascaded over your body. The droplets caught in your hair and ran down your skin, glistening like tiny diamonds in the dim light. He watched, transfixed, as you moved beneath the stream. Your hands glided through your hair and over your body. There was something almost hypnotic in the rhythm of your movements, in the way you seemed so completely at ease, so unaware of the eyes that lingered on you from the shadows. He knew he shouldn’t be here, knew this was a line he had never intended to cross. But the allure of your presence, the simple beauty of you, was too much to resist. He felt a strange mix of hunger and something softer, something like longing, as he watched the water trace the contours of your body. His fingertips tingled with the image of your warm skin underneath his touch. For a brief moment, your eyes flicked open, and he held his breath, though he knew you couldn’t see him. You looked toward the door, a vague sense of something stirring in your gaze, but then you blinked and turned back to the water, shaking off whatever fleeting thought had crossed your mind. The vampire exhaled silently with relief. The brief moment of contact, of almost being caught, sent a thrill through him. He took one last lingering look at you, committing every detail to memory; the curve of your neck, the straight line of your spine, and the softness of your thighs. And then, as quietly as he had come, he slipped back into the shadows. The image of you under the shower would stay with him, a vivid memory to savor during the long hours of daylight.

Soon, his visits began to feel like a dance. He moved in perfect sync with you through the house. When you entered a room, he slipped into the shadows, always just out of sight, careful to remain unseen. He knew the rhythm of your nights, the way you moved from room to room, the way you lingered by the window or paused to turn off a light. But as the nights went on, something stirred within you; a suspicion that someone was there, watching, staying just out of your way but never leaving.

The kitchen was warm, filled with the scent of onions sizzling in the pan. You moved methodically, chopping vegetables and stirring sauces, trying to focus on the simple task of making dinner. The rhythm of cooking usually soothed you, but tonight, something was off. The feeling had been creeping up on you all evening, a persistent, unsettling sense that you weren’t alone. It gnawed at the edge of your thoughts, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. The house was quiet, too quiet, and every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the wind outside, seemed loud in the stillness. You paused for a moment, the knife hovering above the cutting board, and glanced around the kitchen. The lights cast long shadows across the floor, stretching into the corners where the darkness lingered. You told yourself it was nothing, just your imagination running wild, but the hairs on the back of your neck refused to settle down. As you returned to your cooking, your movements became more hurried, more anxious. The feeling of being watched grew stronger. You tried to shake it off, focusing on the task at hand, but your mind kept drifting away from your dinner. Finally, you set the knife down with your heart beating faster than it should. You turned slowly, scanning the room, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of something, or someone, in the shadows, but there was nothing, just the empty kitchen and the low hum of the refrigerator. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the unease remained. The feeling of eyes on you, of someone lurking just out of sight, was too strong to ignore. Every movement you spent in the kitchen, or anywhere in the house was accompanied by the prickling sensation that you weren’t as alone as you thought.

As your suspicion grew and fear settled into your home, the vampire's feelings deepened. What had begun as a mere fascination had slowly morphed into something more serious, something he could no longer ignore.

The night was crisp and quiet, with only the distant hum of the city breaking the stillness. The vampire stood outside your window, hidden in the darkness. His eyes were fixed on the warm glow spilling from inside your home. The curtains were partially drawn, just enough to reveal you sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and engrossed in the flickering screen of the TV. He had watched you countless times, seen you in every possible light and shadow, but tonight was different. The sight of you curled up in your cozy living room, lost in the world of your favorite show, stirred something within him that he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. The way you snuggled into the blanket with a sigh that escaped your lips as you laughed at something on the screen moved something in him. It was all so intimate, so utterly human. His gaze softened, and he felt a pang of longing so intense it almost hurt. He watched the way your eyes danced with amusement, how your expressions changed with the flow of the story, and how you seemed to be completely at ease in your own world. It was in these small, everyday moments that turned his feelings into something more than fascination or obsession. He was in love with you. His heart, dead for a long time, ached with a longing he hadn’t known was possible. As he stood there, his thoughts raced. He had been drawn to you from the beginning, but now he realized it was more than mere curiosity or obsession. He had come to adore you even from afar. The way you lived your life, so genuine and unfiltered, made him yearn for things he had long forgotten. He imagined what it would be like to sit beside you, to be part of these simple moments that meant so much to him. The love he felt was both exhilarating and painful, a reminder of how far he was from the life he desired. The thought of revealing himself, of breaking through the barrier he had maintained for so long, seemed both a terrifying and exhilarating possibility, but he knew there was no way back. There was no way he could just walk away from you.

Watching you through the window, observing your life from the shadows only deepened his longing. He couldn’t go on like this. Being so close, yet so far wasn’t enough anymore.

You turned the corner with an eagerness in your chest to get inside your home and unwind after a long day at work. Your keys jingled in your hand as you approached your front door but before you could reach the stairs leading up onto your small porch, you noticed a figure standing in front of your neighbor's house. He was tall and impeccably dressed in a dark suit that seemed to absorb the lights of the streetlamps towering at the edge of the sidewalk. He was engrossed in a conversation with the elderly couple who lived next door. Their faces were lit with curiosity and welcome as they nodded at something the stranger said. As you drew closer, without your notice or permission, he turned to face you, and an unexpected chill rippled down your spine. His smile was disarmingly charming, but there was something about it that made you pause. In the dim glow of the street lights, you noticed the glint of his fangs, sharp and white. They caught the light in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “Good evening,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting. “I’ve just moved into the house next door.” You blinked, momentarily speechless. “Oh, hello,” you managed to say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I didn’t realize the house was sold.” His smile widened, and he took a step closer, extending a hand. “Yes, it’s quite recent. I’m delighted to meet you. I’m afraid I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself to the neighbors before now.” You hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand. His grip was firm but gentle, and his touch was unexpectedly cold. “I’m Y/N,” you said, trying to smile. Your throat felt dry and tight as you forced the words to roll off your tongue. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” “Thank you,” he said, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “I’ve heard good things about this area.” You glanced at the house he had just mentioned mostly so you had a reason to tear your gaze away from him. “Are you settled in?” “Almost,” The man replied. “Just a few more things to arrange. But I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable here.” The way he spoke, with an almost eerie calm and certainty, sent another shiver down your spine. “Well, if you need any help or information about the area, feel free to ask." You regretted your polite offer the moment it left your lips. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his smile never wavering. “Thank you, Y/N. I’ll be sure to drop by soon. Have a lovely evening.” As you watched him turn back to the elderly couple, your heart was still racing. The encounter had left you with a sense of unease that you couldn’t quite shake but were too afraid to stay and look into it. You hurried inside, and after locking the door behind you, twice, you tried to push the strange meeting from your mind. It's fine, you thought. You just have a few difficult weeks behind you. But as you settled into your evening routine, the man's smile and those glistening fangs lingered in your thoughts, leaving you with a growing sense of curiosity and uncertainty about the new neighbor next door.

[letsgetrowdy43]

A room of our own—

Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Request: Hi! I’m not sure if we can combine the prompts but if so could I please request 🐞with the prompts, “Okay, we need to decide whose bedroom it is that's going to be ours from now on. I feel like I'm back in high school, sneaking from one to the other every second night!" (Roommates to lovers), and hearing them snore a little for the first time, maybe the snoring is small, quiet and you can't help but giggle since it's kind of cute, or maybe it's quite loud and you realize you plan to spend the rest of your life with this. With Jacky, love your writing!!

Warnings/notes: Thank you so much love <3 This is a little suggestive, but sos so sweet so please enjoy!!

End of summer celebration!!

Jack stirred awake, the early morning sunlight filtered through his linen curtains. A yawn erupted from his mouth as he turned on his side to be face to face with his girlfriend, eyes still fighting off sleep as he noticed that she was already awake. His girlfriend lay on her side, propped up on one elbow, watching him with a soft smile as he reached out her hand to fix his messy curls, grinning at his bedhead as he caught her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of her wrist.

She had grown used to waking up and seeing him first thing in the morning, but today felt a little different— waking up under the same covers as him, limbs tangled with his felt like the start of something more permanent.

“Morning,” she whispered, brushing a few strands of hair away from his forehead. He smiled sleepily, reaching out to pull her closer, his face buried in her neck as he soaked up the intimacy of waking up with her by his side. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep as she smiled into the crown of his head.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking, her tone light but with a hint of seriousness as she thought back to the night before—the whispered conversations, the laughter, the warmth of their bodies pressed together under the covers. “Okay,” she began, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back, grinning at the feeling of his gentle grasp on her hips as he pulled her hips to his, “we need to decide whose bedroom it is that’s going to be ours from now on. I feel like I’m back in high school, sneaking from one to the other every second night!”

Jack lifted his head slightly, blinking away the last remnants of sleep as he processed her words. A slow smile spread across his face, and he chuckled softly. “Yeah, it’s about time we figure that out, huh? Feels like we’ve been playing house without actually picking the house.” She giggled, the sound vibrating through him as he held her close. “Exactly! I mean, it’s fun sneaking around, but I think it’s time we make it official. No more sneaking.”

He grinned, his fingers brushing along her side. “Agreed. Let’s pick our spot. Maybe we should just flip a coin.” She laughed, shaking her head at the simplicity of his suggestion. “Or we could, you know, think about it logically? Your room is closer to the bathroom, but mine has better light and decor…”

Jack smirked, leaning in to kiss her lips, a slow, mind-melting kiss that had her brain foggy the second he pulled away to smirk as he continued their conversation “Or we could just alternate, keep things interesting.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re impossible, you know that?” Jack shook his head as he flipped himself on top of her and began pressing kisses to her exposed skin, "I. Am. Not," he said in between the sloppy kisses.

She laughed at his lack of seriousness before her hands cupped his cheeks and pulled his face up to look at her, "if you want to think logistically, my room is cuter and it is the furthest away from Luke," her eyes telling of what she was implying as the kisses stopped and he grinned at her genius. "You're so smart," he kissed her collarbone, "I don't know how I got so lucky," he pressed a second kiss to her sternum as she laughed at his lust-blown pupils.

She laughed, her hands still cradling his face as she looked down at him. “Well, you’re not too bad yourself,” she teased, her tone playful as she ran her fingers through his messy hair. “But seriously, if we’re going to be sharing a room, there’s something else we need to address.”

Jack paused, lifting his head to look at her with a curious expression, a grinning pulling at his lips, expecting a cheeky joke, “Oh? What’s that?” She hesitated for a moment, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheekbone, “You snore. Loudly.”

His eyes widened in mock horror, and he immediately rolled off her, sitting up on the bed, “I do not!” She couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction, sitting up beside him and poking his side as she grinned at his dramatics, “Oh, but you do! It’s like a little rumble, but you know what? It’s actually kind of cute.”

Jack groaned, burying his face in his hands for a moment before peeking at her through his fingers, as she dipped down once again and kissed the scar on his shoulder, “You think my snoring is cute?”

She nodded, her smile softening as she reached out to take his hand, their fingers intertwined as she scooted closer to his side. “Yeah, I do. It’s just… you. And if I’m being honest, I don’t really mind it. It’s part of what makes this whole thing—” she gestured between them, “—feel real. Like we’re really doing this, you know?” Jack’s expression softened, and he squeezed her hand, pulling her even closer until their foreheads touched. “Well, if you can put up with my snoring, then I guess I can handle your room being ‘cuter’ than mine,” he said with a grin.

She laughed, leaning in to press a sloppy, teeth clashing, smile wide kiss to his lips, the playfulness of the moment blending with the deeper emotion they both felt. “Deal,” she whispered against his mouth.

As they lay back down, tangled in each other once more, the thought of Jack’s snoring no longer seemed like an issue. It was just one of the many little things that made their relationship theirs—imperfect, but perfect in its own way.

-

-

-

[levithestripper]

would they peel an orange for you

masterlist

warnings: gender-neutral reader, none

included characters: yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, toge inumaki, yuta okkotsu, and kokichi muta (mechamaru).

length: 1.2k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

a/n: i just finished both seasons of jjk and gege owes me money for therapy

— Yuji Itadori

Yuji wouldn’t need to be asked to peel an orange for you. He’d be making himself a snack and decides to bring you something too, ‘cause he knows you’ll sneak stuff off his plate anyway, so why not get you your own snack? He also peels your orange nicely, even picking off that icky white string you hate. Yuju brings it to you on a plate, and the gesture makes you smile as he snuggles next to you on the couch in the common area. 

“An orange?” you ask, looking up at him from your seat on the sofa. You’re covered up to your chin in a fluffy blanket, warding off the chill you felt due to Yuji’s absence. You swear the man’s like a walking furnace. 

“I was getting myself a snack, so I thought I’d get you something, too!” Yuji replies with a smile so bright that it rivals the sun. “I know you like oranges, and you haven’t had one in a while, so I thought you’d like one!” He sits next to you again, wriggling underneath the blanket, putting his cold feet on your bare legs, making you squeal. 

You take the plate from him after he stops torturing you with his maliciously cold toes. “Yu!” Yuji just kisses your cheek happily, tangling his legs with yours. Now that he’s had fun, Yuji’s careful not to get his cold feet on you.

— Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi would also peel you an orange, but you’d have to ask him first. You’ll be sitting in his room together, with you on his bed and him at his desk. Last time he was out in the city, Megumi bought a mini fridge for his dorm room so he doesn’t have to walk all the way to the kitchens when he’s hungry late at night. 

“Hey, Megs?” you gaze over at him, your head hanging off the edge of his bed, hair dangling upside down with you. 

He turns to meet your gaze, chin in his palm. “Yes, my love?” The afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows illuminates Megumi’s pretty features, beautifully highlighting his dark chocolate eyes. 

“Could you get me an orange from the mini fridge?”

He nods, silently leaning over and snagging a clementine out of the fridge. Pushing his homework out of the way and unfolding a napkin, Megumi fully peels it in just a few strips, tossing the rind in the trash can underneath his desk. With a soft smile, he wraps your orange in the napkin, placing it in your outstretched hand.

“Thank you, Megs,” you return his smile, moving to sit crisscross. You giddily eat your orange slices, the fruit tasting much better since your boyfriend prepared it. Megumi watches you eat, his chin returning to his palm like before. His oversized cream-colored sweater makes him look like a soft, snuggly teddy bear. “You should take a break, baby. You’ve been working for hours!” you exaggerate, making him giggle quietly. 

Megumi sighs with a smile before joining you on his bed, curling up beside you like a cat, resting his head on your shoulder. “I don’t think it’s been hours, love,” he chuckles, stealing an orange slice. 

“Hey!”

“Payment, babe.”

You roll your eyes at him but pretend to not see Megumi steal another slice a few moments later.

— Toge Inumaki

Toge also would need to be asked to peel an orange for you. He’s more than happy to do it, as one of his love languages is acts of service. He peels it while sitting on the couch beside you, watching whatever you had on the television. He may or may not take a few pieces for himself in the process. 

You lean against him, your head on his shoulder, watching Toge’s nimble fingers fix a snack for you. He separates the orange into individual slices, making it easier to eat as you watch TV. When he hands you the plate, you find a few slices missing, only to see Toge eating them.

“Toge! Those’re mine!” you exclaim, looking at him as if he had deliberately kicked one of your stuffed animals off the bed. 

He makes a face at you. “Fish flakes.”

“Oh, don’t fish flakes me, Toge,” you grumble, “No more eating my snacks!”

Toge makes another face at you, teasing you in that silent way he’s gotten good at. He snags another slice before you can move your plate away, a stupid grin spreading across his lips.

— Yuta Okkotsu

Yuta will peel your orange for you, but he’d be sassy about it the entire time. He’s happy to do it, but he’ll be teasing you while he does it. Standing by the counter, Yuta’s peeling your orange in small bits, tossing the skin on a paper towel. “You need me to peel your grapes, too, angel?” he teases, and you stick your tongue out at him. 

“You don’t peel grapes, dumbass.”

“You peel them for babies,” Yuta smirks.

You shoot him a warning glare like you’re daring him to continue that train of thought.

He giggles as he finishes sectioning the orange. “I’m not above chucking this at you, angel.”

“Shut up and give me my damn orange,” you snark at him, leaving him in the kitchen to make yourself comfy on the sectional in the common room. The second year’s dorm rooms have better amenities than the first-year dorms. 

He sits beside you, throwing a blanket across both of your laps. “You’re so demanding.” 

“And you’re annoying.”

“And you love it,” Yuta grins, kissing your cheek.

— Kokichi Muta

Kokichi would one hundred percent hands down peel an orange for you. He’s so incredibly grateful to be with you in person that he’d probably kill someone for you if you asked. So yeah, he’d peel you an orange. He’d probably peel you two oranges. Kokichi would try to peel it into a heart shape, but if it didn’t work the way he wanted, he’d just arrange the longest scraps into a vague heart shape the best he could.

Sitting at the breakfast counter, you watch Kokichi prepare a lovely breakfast for both of you. Bacon sizzles on the stove next to a pan of over-easy eggs. While he waits for the bacon to finish, Kokichi plates the eggs and toast before grabbing a bag of fruit from the fridge. He washes a handful of red and green grapes and sets them in a bowl, now quickly peeling two oranges, one for you and one for him. He places the fruit on your plate, careful to keep it from touching your eggs.

You didn’t expect Kokichi to prepare your fruit for you; no one besides your parents when you were little had ever done that before. “Oh, Chi, you didn’t have to do that for me,” you say, affection warming your chest.

He smiles at you sweetly, his scar stretching slightly. “I know. I wanted to.” Kokichi lifts the bacon pan off the stove, holding it over the counter while he splits it evenly on each plate. “I know you don’t like the feeling of the peel underneath your nails.”

Kokichi’s words fill you with so much love and other indescribable emotions that it makes you want to scream. You pull him to lean over the counter for a kiss. “What did I do to deserve you, Chi?”

He grins against your lips, kissing you back with all the passion bubbling inside his chest as well. “You deserve all this and more, you know. But we’ve gotta eat before our eggs get cold.”

[thecatchat]

Ace the bat hound becomes a ghost dog because he's such a good boy and dedicated to justice. Inspired off of this post here.

But, instead of being found out by Danny, it's the batfam's usual mystic contacts, like Constantine, that discover and reunite Ace and the Bats. Constantine muttering about how annoyingly resilient the particular brand of ghost is. From the infinite realms, Ghosts from there are a headache and a half to get rid of but portals, information, and really anything about it is far and few between since no one's been able to get into contact since some fight a couple centuries ago (Dark being sealed away). Justice Leauge Dark promises to let the family know if they hear anything or find any relevant information about the Infinite Realms, but since literally nothing has been heard from them in so long, no one really knows anything off the top of their head about it.

While Ace is technically supposed to be hidden away at home, he ends up sneaking along one day to help deal with Joker after the clown kidnaps Nightwing and/or Robin (Damian). The photos and videos of the event are blurry and smudged, but word of mouth gets around, and soon, the entirety of Gotham is celebrating the return of Bat Hound the Ghost, the very good boy back from the grave.

Meanwhile, things are going great for the family, just having Ace back makes everyone feel just a bit better (because Ace is a full ghost with a core and is helping to filter the currupt ectoplasm called Lazarus Water with physical touch). Jason is over more often and enjoys flopping on the couch with Ace for a quick snooze, Dick is over the moon to fight with Ace by his side again, Damian makes sure Ace is properly introduced to the rest of the animals that live at the mansion, Tim actually falls asleep semi-regularly now after Ace starts bothering him about being awake, and everyone else is reaping the benefits of having a bat trained dog that seems to be able to sniff out when they need a dog to pet.

Then these guys in white show up.

Ace had seemingly been on edge all night and when it was time to turn in for the night and let Signal come out for the day, Ace follows along, not listening to any command to stay home. Some of the others stay ready in the cave but they let Signal and Ace go out with the promise to call the moment something big happens.

Now, up until then, Ace's powers had been tallied up to: intangibility, invisibility, and occasional hovering/heightened jump. Every other exercise responded out as normal dog (except for the whole being dead thing). Maybe slightly higher emotional intelligence, but some dogs are just Like That. Through some tests, they do find that Ace has a new found hatred of Lazarus Water, but they don't find any obvious weakness that isn't a banishment spell which is as worrying as it is a relief.

So when these white suits start shooting using guns that glow the same green as Ace in Signals' vision and the shoots hit? Ace yelps in pain before seemingly barking out some kind of energy ball? And barreling into a wall so hard it cracked from another shot? Every single alarm that Signal can think to trip gets set off.

But not before one of the suits (one of the many suits, they're terrible fighters but there's just so many of them and two of them) takes out something that looks like a thermos and points it at Ace.

Within a second, Ace is gone.

Signal is so shocked he almost gets hit himself by the dozens of shots of energy blasts now aimed at him. He can't get to the white van in time before it speeds off.

----

I'm going to end this part here. I'm going to continue this in the reblogs but I also want people to take a crack at this story themselves! If you're inspired by this please put your thoughts or stories in the reblogs or tags!