#its just such a good intimate thing for me???

[cherrrydragon]

➤ reading between the lines

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SUMMARY ↳ Jason Todd loves nothing more than the sight of you with a book. The book's tension builds, your fingers gripping the pages a little tighter as the protagonist faces a crucial moment. You barely register the sound of the water shutting off or Jason stepping out of the bathroom. He stands in the doorway, towel slung low around his waist, shaking his head with an amused smirk. He slowly takes steps toward you, right up until his knees hit the mattress. He leans down, his arms coming to cage you. Finally, you really take notice of him. “Hi, Jay.” pairing: jason todd x fem!reader warnings: smut tags/notes: oral sex (fem receiving), domestic fluff, jason might be ooc sorry, lets just pretend its a less traumatized version of him wc: 2k

You think Jason has a thing for you and books.

You mean together, of course. Jason Todd’s affinity for literature is well known, and so is his affection for you. But you can see the way his lips curl up when he sees you curled up on the couch reading, wrapped in his favorite blanket.

The soft glow of the lamp casts a warm light over the room, highlighting the way Jason leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. He’s always been drawn to those quiet moments, watching you lose yourself in a world of words.

“Is that another tragic romance?” he teases, stepping further into the room. You glance up, catching his playful gaze.

“Not as tragic as your face.”

“Ouch,” he groans dramatically, clutching his chest. He falls onto you, plopping his full body weight and nearly crushing you. He buries his face in your neck and presses a chaste kiss there.

You huff and half-heartedly shove him away. “You’ll make me lose my place!”

“That’s why you should use those bookmarks I got you, honey.” He lifts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Bookmarks are for amateurs, Jay.” You gesture to the stack of books on the coffee table, a mixture of dog-eared pages and hastily folded corners.

He grimaces at the sight. “I should break up with you.”

“Who would read to you, then?”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Touché.” He presses a quick kiss to your lips and shifts so as to pull you into leaning on him. He wraps the blanket around both of you, plucking the book out of your hands in spite of your protests. “Can’t let you ruin this anymore. Lemme read to you, hm?”

You rest your head on his shoulder. “You can’t do it justice.”

“I’ve got the voice of a poet,” he retorts, arm wrapping around you. His voice is low, intimate and for your ears only. You move to rest on his chest so you can feel the way his chest rumbles as he speaks.

As he reads, you let your eyes drift shut, the sound of his voice becoming a soothing backdrop. Jason leans his down, pressing a light kiss on your head and effectively muffling his voice. Each word he reads intertwines with his heartbeat, spinning a cocoon of intimacy that cradles the both of you.

You notice the way he plops a bookmark on the page you were on just before you fall asleep.

“You’re killing me, honey,” Jason groans over the phone.

The smell of a home-cooked meal fills your apartment as you shoulder your phone. “Come home, then,” you chuckle.

“I swear I can smell it through the phone. Why’re you always cooking something good when I’m away, huh?”

You move to grab a pan. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be away so much.”

“Gotta do my job, honey,” he sighs. “To keep my beautiful girlfriend safe so she can continue to spoil me with her delicious cooking.”

You laugh, stirring the simmering sauce. “It’s just pasta, Jay.”

“Yeah, but it’s your pasta. That makes it gourmet.”

You can’t help but smile at his praise. “Dork. I’ll save you a plate. Just don’t take too long, or I might eat it all.”

“Don’t you dare!” His voice rises in mock horror. “I’ll be home soon, I promise. Just a couple more things to wrap up. You got dessert for me?”

You scoff playfully. “Pick it up yourself. I’ve got a book to finish.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawls, then his tone softens. “I’ll get you your favorite. Only the best for my girl.”

You exchange sweet goodbyes before hanging up, the warmth of Jason’s words lingers in the air, wrapping around you like the blanket he often claims. You focus on the pasta simmering on the stove, the fragrant aroma filling the kitchen. Your mind drifts to Jason, as it does a lot, and you can’t keep the stupid grin of your face as you finish cooking.

After plating the pasta, you set the table, stealing glances at the clock as you wait for him to come home. You flip through the book, and allow yourself to get lost in the words. The minutes stretch, the kitchen filled with nothing but your muttered words as you read. You’re just about to take a distracted bite of your food when there’s knocks on the door, the specific pattern Jason went over with you.

Jason steps in, Red Hood helmets already off and perched under his arm, a bag carried by his other. You perk up, unable to suppress the smile that spreads across your face. He steps in, shaking off the remnants of his day, and his eyes light up at the sight of the table set for two. “You’re making me fall in love with you all over again, you know that?”

You laugh, stepping forward to meet him in a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he greets back one you separate. He places the bag on the table, the logo of your favorite sweets brand greeting you. “As promised.”

“You spoil me,” you hum happily, parroting his earlier words. “Everything go okay?”

Jason nods, pulling out your chair for you before taking his own seat. He grabs his fork with an eager shine in his eye that makes you snort. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Jason, it’s that he loves to eat.

“Usual stuff.” He keeps it brief, for your sake. He doesn’t like you to hear about the stuff he deals with on patrol, once said, “pretty things like you shouldn’t worry about things like that.” Flattering, but it’s whatever.

“Dickhead mentioned this new bakery that opened up, though you might like it,” he mumbles, voice obscured by his chewing.

You smile. “Sure, let's make it a date.”

Jason goes on to mention little things about his day, and you do listen… at first. You love hearing Jason talk, and you love hearing about his day but… you also really wanna finish this book. It starts as subtle glances to the open pages. Then, it goes to skim reading while nodding along to his words. Now, you’re full on reading and have tuned him out. Whoops.

Jason pauses mid-sentence, a playful glint in his eye as he watches you. “Baby.”

“Hm?”

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, smirking.

You look up, feigning innocence. “Of course. You just mentioned the arcade you went to with Roy.”

He raises a brow and you know he doesn’t believe you. Damn detective skills. If he feels any type of way because of it he lets it go and continues talking. This time you do better to try and pay attention, but when he leaves to go to the bathroom your eyes wander right back onto the pages.

“You’re killing me again, honey.” Shit, he came back fast. To his credit he doesn’t look annoyed, just fond. Still, you feel guilty.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” you groan, shutting the book and throwing it across the room. Miraculously, it lands on the couch.

Jason raises a brow. “Nice throw.”

“Jay,” you whine. He snorts and comes around you, laying a hand comfortingly on your shoulder. “It’s so good. You’ll love it when I finish.”

“I’m not mad, honey.” He leans down and presses a kiss against your forehead, whispering, “Besides, I think it’s hot.”

You blink, watching him sit back down as if he said nothing at all. Well, that’s probably all you’re going to get out of him about it.

You are one of the many people guilty of not knowing when to put down a good read.

In your defense, however, it’s not bedtime yet. Bedtime is whenever you and Jason are in bed, and he still has to shower. Until then, you’re content to let him take his time, as you’re completely taken by your book. The gentle hum of the water running in the background almost becomes white noise to the whirlwind of words in your head.

The book's tension builds, your fingers gripping the pages a little tighter as the protagonist faces a crucial moment. You barely register the sound of the water shutting off or Jason stepping out of the bathroom. He stands in the doorway, towel slung low around his waist, shaking his head with an amused smirk.

He slowly takes steps toward you, right up until his knees hit the mattress. He leans down, his arms coming to cage you. Finally, you really take notice of him. “Hi, Jay.”

“Hi, honey.” His eyes sparkle with amusement as he takes you in. He smooches your cheek before his hands come to grasp at your hips, pulling you to sit at the edge of the bed. You don’t break your focus from your book (if we’re being honest, you’re kind of used to it…)

He knees at your shared bed and spreads your legs. You don’t pay too much mind, even when the feeling of your underwear sliding down your legs sends a familiar shiver down your spine. It is only when a hot wet feel slides against your core that you’re snapped back into reality.

Your body reacts instinctively, squeezing your thighs around Jason’s head. “Jay!” you yelp.

He responds with a hum that sends a buzz through your body. His hands massage your skin as he kisses around your thighs. Your heartbeat picks up and your chest starts to heave. Your fingers tremble around the pages.

A hand leaves your pressure book to grip Jason’s hair. Your hips begin to rock against his face. Your breathing becomes more labored. His thumb begins to swirl your clit, stimulating you to your very core. The room around you fades away, leaving only the rising tension in your body. 

Jason's hands move up your thighs, his fingers digging gently into your skin as he holds you in place. His tongue darts in and out, teasing you with gentle licks and soft kisses. You moan, your head falling back against the bed as you give in to the pleasure.

Suddenly, the book slips from your fingers, falling to the floor with a soft thud. You don't even notice, too caught up in the sensations coursing through your body. Jason’s hands pull you impossibly closer, caught up in your pleasure.

"Jason," you moan, voice laced with desire.

It seems that your voice sets him off, because his tongue starts moving faster along with his fingers to bring you to your peak. Your body trembles, and your hips rock against his face, seeking more of the pleasure he's giving you. Your toes curl, back arching against the bed as your moans get louder and louder.

White fills your vision, mouth falling open as a final whine leaves your lips. You take deep breaths as you come down from your high, thighs twitching. Jason’s eyes meet yours, slowly rising from his knees to meet you. His lips brush against yours in a gentle manner. You feel yourself melt once again, your body aligning itself with him.

“Good?” he mumbles against your lips.

“Good,” you affirm, breathing him in.

“Good,” he nods, breaking away from the kiss, before meeting you back for more. You smile against him as the two of you exchange chaste kisses. Your legs fall open to welcome him closer. You whimper at the feel of his bulge against you.

“Jay,” you moan, grinding against him.

You feel his smirk. “Yeah?”

“Please…” He’s only wearing a towel, all you have to do is hook a finger around it and pull…

You’ve never felt such disappointment like when he pulls away from you, tightening the towel. He bends down, picking up your forgotten book, and strolling out of the room.

“Wh- Jay!”

“You said I’d like it, might as well start now. Who knows when you’ll put this thing down again,” he calls from the hallway.

“Jason!”

“This is payback!”

notes: kinda hate this but what can ya do 🔥

[archiveofvirtue]

cherry pie — dean winchester

content: dean winchester x fem!reader, established relationship, pie addicted dean, flirting, intimate touching and kissing, slight fluff, mentions of alcohol, 2.4K words

summary: When joining Dean with a slice of cherry pie turns into something more extensive, unfolding a deeper connection than either one of you had imagined. — inspired by the song “cherry pie” by warrant

feedback and requests are welcomed <3

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The harvelle's roadhouse was buzzing with life, a mix of laughter, music, and clinking glasses filling the air. The neon sign above the bar flickered, casting a reddish glow over the crowd as they danced and mingled. Dean Winchester sat in a corner booth, nursing a beer, his eyes focused on the pool table in the center of the room. He wasn't paying much attention to the game, though. His thoughts were elsewhere- far from the game. They were on you; you could feel it.

As you made your way back to you guys' table, a mischievous glint lit your eyes. You slid into the booth beside him, your fingers grazing his arm as you placed a plate of food on the table. "Thought you might be hungry," you said, voice teasing as you pushed the plate toward him.

Dean glanced down at the slice of cherry pie, its bright red filling oozing slightly over the flaky crust. He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're gonna get me in trouble, bringing me this," he said, but the smile on his face gave away that he didn't mind at all.

You leaned closer, lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Maybe I like getting you into trouble."

Dean's grin widened, and he turned his head to catch your lips with his in a quick, heated kiss. You tasted sweet, like the cherries from the pie, and he felt a familiar spark of desire flare up inside him. You had always had that effect on him-you were wild, unpredictable, and full of life, everything that made the chaos of his world feel a little more bearable.

"So," you said, pulling back just enough to look at him, eyes shining with amusement. "You gonna eat that, or do I have to feed it to you?"

Dean smirked, picking up the fork and slicing off a piece of the pie. "As much as l'd like that," he said, popping the bite into his mouth, "I think I can manage."

You watched him with a satisfied smile, your hand slipping under the table to rest on his thigh. You felt the warmth of his skin through the fabric, and as he leaned in for another taste of your lips, the sweetness of the pie and a slight hint of whiskey lingered between you. You knew you were getting under his skin just as much as he was under yours.

"Good?" You asked when you finally broke apart, voice breathy.

"Delicious," Dean replied, his eyes locked on yours. You knew he wasn't just talking about the pie.

The music shifted, and a new song came on, something with a heavy beat that matched the thrum of his pulse. Your eyes lit up, and you grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the dance floor. "Come on," you urged, not giving him a chance to protest.

Dean let you pull him along, his resistance melting away as you two moved into the crowd.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, body swaying to the music as you pressed yourself against him.

Dean's hands settled on your hips, guiding your movements as you fell into a rhythm together.

The room seemed to blur around you, the other people and the noise fading into the background.

All Dean could focus on was you-the way your body moved against his, the feel of your skin under his hands, the scent of your hair as it brushed against his cheek. You were intoxicating, and he was completely under your spell.

"You know," you said, lips close to his ear as you two danced, "I've always had a thing for bad boys."

Dean chuckled, his grip on you tightening. "Is that right?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Especially the ones who look at me the way you do."

Dean's heart skipped a beat, the words hitting him harder than they should have. You knew you'd struck a nerve by the way he was looking at you, making him feel something deeper than just the heat between you two.

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss that told him exactly what you wanted. You had a way of getting under his skin, of making him feel things he wasn't sure he was ready to feel. But with you, it didn't seem so scary. It felt... right.

"Can't help it," he murmured, his voice rough against your skin. "You're just too damn irresistible."

Your smile was wicked as you pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes full of promise while the heat between you only grew hotter. "Then show me how much you mean it."

Dean didn't need to be told twice. He tightened his grip on your waist, spinning you around so that your back was pressed against his chest. His hands roamed over your body as you moved together, the heat inside you taking over.

The world outside your little bubble didn't matter anymore-there was only the music, the movement, and the undeniable chemistry that crackled between the two of you.

You leaned your head back against his shoulder, your breath coming in short, eager gasps as you let yourself get lost in the moment. When Dean's lips brushed against your neck, trailing down to your collarbone, you let out a soft moan, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours, lost in each other, the world outside the dance floor forgotten. When the song finally came to an end, you were both breathless, bodies pressed close together as if you couldn't bear to be apart.

You looked up at him, eyes filled with a mix of desire and something deeper-something that made Dean's heart swell with emotion. You didn't say anything, you didn't need to. The way you looked at him, the way you held him close, told Dean everything he needed to know.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Let's get out of here," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Lead the way, Winchester."

You two left the roadhouse hand in hand, the night air cool against your flushed skin as you two made your way to the Impala. Dean opened the door for you, his hand lingering on your hand as you slid into the passenger seat.

As he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, Dean couldn't help but steal a glance at you. Upu were leaning back in your seat, eyes closed and a contented smile on your face. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful, that it made his heart ache.

"Where to?" he asked, his voice soft.

You opened your eyes and looked at him, your smile widening. "Surprise me," you said, your tone playful to which he just nodded.

You grinned, as he put 'baby' in gear, pulling out onto the road. You had a feeling tonight was going to be one to remember..

The Impala's engine roared as Dean pressed down on the gas, the familiar hum of the car vibrating through his body. The road stretched out before the two of you, a ribbon of asphalt disappearing into the darkness. The headlights cut through the night, illuminating the trees that lined the narrow highway. Dean didn't have a specific destination in mind, but that didn't matter. With you by his side, anywhere you ended up would be just fine.

You reached over, your fingers brushing lightly against the back of his neck where it played with his tousled hair. "You always know how to make a night interesting," you said with a playful smile, eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Dean glanced over at you, his green eyes piercing through you, your heart doing that familiar flip it always did when he looked at you like that. "You haven't seen anything yet," he replied, his voice laced with a teasing edge.

You drove in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the rumble of the Impala's engine and the occasional rustle of wind through the open windows. Dean could feel you watching him, your gaze soft and thoughtful, and it sent a warm thrill through him. He'd never been one for settling down, but with you, everything felt different—like maybe, just maybe, he could finally stop running.

After about half an hour of driving, you came across a small, secluded lookout point just off the road. Dean turned the car down the gravel path, the tires crunching on the loose rocks as you approached a clearing that overlooked the rolling hills below. The view was stunning, with the moon casting a silvery glow over the landscape and the stars twinkling brightly above you.

Dean parked the car and turned off the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening. He looked over at you, who was already gazing out the window, your face illuminated by the soft light of the moon.

"Wow," you whispered, your breath fogging up the glass slightly as you leaned closer to the window. "It's beautiful."

Dean nodded, unable to take his eyes off you. "Yeah, it is."

You turned to him, catching the meaning behind his words, and your cheeks flushed slightly. "You've got a way with words, Winchester," you teased, though your voice was warm with affection.

Dean shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Just calling it like I see it."

You laughed softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. You opened the car door and stepped out, stretching your arms above your head as you breathed in the cool night air. Dean followed suit, walking around the car to stand beside you.

For a moment, you two just stood there, taking in the view and the peacefulness that surrounded you. The world felt a million miles away, and you were grateful for the rare moment of tranquility.

You moved closer to Dean, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. Dean automatically slid his arms around you, holding you close as you stood together under the blanket of stars.

"You know," you said after a few minutes, voice barely above a whisper, "I never thought I'd find something like this... someone like you."

You felt his heart skip a beat at your words, and he tightened his hold on you, resting his chin on top of your head. "I know the feeling," he murmured.

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his as if you were looking for something—confirmation, maybe, or reassurance. Dean wasn't sure what you saw in his eyes, but whatever it was, it made you smile softly, a smile that made his heart ache in the best way possible.

"Let's stay here for a while," you suggested, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. "Just you and me, no distractions."

Dean nodded, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. "Yeah," he agreed. "I'd like that."

You two leaned against the hood of the Impala, you nestled comfortably in his arms, and watched the stars twinkle above. The night was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the steady thrum of your hearts beating in sync.

After a while, you tilted your head up to look at him again, your eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous glint. "So, about that pie," you began, her tone playful.

Dean raised an eyebrow, smirking down at you. "What about it?"

You bit your lip, pretending to think. "I don't know... I just figured a guy like you might have something better up his sleeve."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "You're never satisfied, are you?"

"Not when it comes to you," you replied, your voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent a jolt of desire through him.

Dean's smirk softened into something more tender as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin. "Good," he said, leaning in closer until your lips were just a breath apart. "Because I'm not planning on going anywhere."

Your breath hitched slightly, and you closed the distance between you two, your lips capturing his in a kiss that was slow and deep, filled with all the unspoken promises you'd been dancing around for so long. Dean kissed you back with equal fervor, pouring everything he had into it—every emotion, every unsaid word, every hope for a future he hadn't dared to dream about until now.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other as you tried to steady your racing hearts.

"I think I'm falling for you, Y/N," Dean admitted, his voice rough with the weight of the confession. "Hell, maybe I already have."

You looked up at him, eyes shining with a mix of surprise and something else—a feeling that only filled your body when you were with him. You smiled, a soft, genuine smile that reached your eyes. "Good," you whispered, repeating his earlier words. "Because I'm already there."

Dean's breath caught in his throat at your words, and before he could say anything else, you pulled him back in for another kiss—this one slow and tender, a kiss that spoke of the future the two of you could have, if you were brave enough to take it.

As you stood there, wrapped up in each other under the endless sky, Dean realized that for the first time in a long time, he wasn't thinking about the next hunt or the next battle. All he could think about was the woman in his arms and the life you could build together—one filled with moments like this, moments where the world outside didn't matter, and all that existed was the love between you two.

It wasn't something he'd ever expected to find, but now that he had it, he wasn't planning on letting it go. Not for anything.

And as you held each other close, the stars above you twinkling like the cherries in the pie you'd shared, you both knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful. Something worth fighting for.

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tags: @nuemanfilms @pinkgic @angelicjackles @6thlisbongirl @s4wdvator @nxptvn @nourties @alluvthegurlz

[peachdues]

Hii mind giving us a mini teaser for compass 3?

Oh okay, fine. You got me in a good mood /lh (anything for my babies!!)

I love you, Sanemi.

He’d done something curious; there’d pain in his eyes, enough that it had felt like a lightning bolt to the heart. You’d nearly thought that pain was born from a place of rejection; a hurt that you’d further crossed a line you’d already asked him to blur. That, despite the sheer possession embedded in every movement of his body and lips as he’d claimed you, he could not and would not return your feelings.

But, there’d been something else, too, in his eyes as he stared down at you, lips parted in shock. Something hungry; the kind that consumed, an inferno that could not help but engulf everything in its path.

He didn’t say it back, and you hadn’t expected he would. But he also didn’t outright reject you, either. Instead, he hugged you. Strange, how the most intimate part of the night hadn’t been the sex itself, or even the fact he’d came in you. It was right then, in the seconds after you’d let your confession slip from your tongue, when he’d snatched you up tightly into his arms, your bodies still connected. He’d still been buried inside you while he held you to him, his hand cradling the back of your head as though you were liable to break at any moment.

And then, he kissed you. Hard. Deep.

That had to mean something. Maybe it was gratitude or maybe it was his own way of expressing what he could not yet bring himself to say, whatever the reason why. But it meant something, and perhaps that something was the very reason he stayed the night, slept entangled with you, naked and vulnerable.

No matter how outlandish the rumors surrounding his bedroom habits had been, one thing always remained consistent: Sanemi Shinazugawa and intimacy were diametric opposites. He did not share a bed with anyone beyond the time it took for him to get his fix. In fact, you’d heard that he could be rather pushy when it came time for his partners to leave.

And since Sanemi wasn’t known for allowing his distractions to linger, he certainly hadn’t been rumored to be the type who enjoyed cuddling.

You, apparently, were the exception. Because he hadn’t just stayed the night; he’d kept you encased in his arms the entire time, even as you’d slobbered all over him in your sleep.

The memory of his fingers caressing the length of your back that next morning sends a shiver down your spine. at the time, you’d thought it better to pretend to remain asleep and oblivious to his gentleness; now, you can’t help but wonder what would have happened had you sleepily opened your eyes.

Maybe he would have kissed you; maybe you would have done more. Or maybe, you could’ve cornered him in the safety of your bed and demanded you at least talk about what the previous night meant.

Because it had to mean something, didn’t it?

meanwhile, pussy so good it has Sanemi out here opening secret trust accounts in her name 💀

[l0stfoster]

Hey its paul anon again (thanks for the name 🫡) sorry ive been bombarding you with questions but I absolutely love this au and i love everyone to bits

So, can you go into more detail about darry and paul . Like, as much info abt them as you can throw at me those two are my boys . Like how did they officially get together , how did Paul go abt moving in and whats that situation like .

Also, when Paul is like kicked out and cut off from the family, does he end up just,, losing everything? I mean like, did his parents even let him get his belongings or did all he have was the clothes on his body and trauma. I would imagine his parents had control over his bank account too so they like shut that down too so he’s out here broke as fuck JHSJSHSJ sorry im just yapping

Anon never apologizes for asking I'm so open to answering them bc I love this au and I adore that so many people like it too. Parry fans are eating good bc the writers love Cursed!Parry just as much. I'll answer your questions ab them before I yap. To be totally honest, those two did not ever really make it official. Doing that requires two things they lack; emotional openness and no internalized homophobia. They both told themselves for the longest time that it wasn't a relationship... even after they started saying "I love you" in Latin and Fae respectively (Paul knows Latin bc spells, Darry knows Fae for obvious reasons), or when each other realized managed to figure out WHAT the other was saying,, or when they started sharing a bed and waking up intertwined,,, or when they started using far too affectionate pet names,,, or when things became far too intimate for it to be casual. They never actually make it official, one day they just slip into calling each other their boyfriends. The most official it ever got was when they flat out went "Oh yeah, we're dating" to the gang. The gang was making bets on that, by the way. Pony said weeks, Soda said a month, Steve said two, Two-Bit said a year. Ace got it right down to the date and time, nobody knows how she did it. They have no anniversary because they have no fucking idea when they really "got together". Paul never truly moved in either, he kinda just went from crashing there whenever his car wasn't an option, to taking up the couch almost every night, to sleeping in Darry's room, and eventually, it was just an unspoken thing that he was officially a member of the household. They have to kick him out for the day whenever the social worker comes to check on things, cause Darry can NOT take the risk of some kind of bad outcome to his mere existence. OK MORE GENERAL PARRY - Being with Paul reminds Darry that he's only 20 and still allowed to be something other than "the adult" sometimes. That brings a whole KIND of happiness that he can't describe. Dude's tail is fucked up due to physical trauma but that bitch wags so fast with Paul. - Darry on the other hand just generally grounds Paul. He's so used to the way of life that was on the west side that everything going on there is overwhelming sometimes. - They're very bad with vocal I love you's in English but they will say that shit ALL the time in different languages or through their actions. - Uh after Paul got jumped and had his letterman jacket stolen, Darry gave him an old denim jacket of his own bc Paul hated having his arms out in the open. - Pony audibly gags every time they're lovey-dovey. He's not homophobic unless you're Paul and Darry. - They'd shotgun cigarettes when they were younger (and the only reason they don't anymore is the account of Darry wanting to keep the fact that he smokes every rare occurrence on the down low) - Darry's purring has healing properties like a cat's purr (all of the brothers' have it actually) so this mf will just drag Paul down to cuddle and purr. - They are.. so down bad for each other. Darry does anything and Paul swoons, and they've def had an interaction that goes something like this: Paul, knowing Darry cant lie: "How do you feel about me right now?" Darry, immediately: "I'd marry you if I could." Paul & Darry:

As for being kicked out, Paul's parents quite literally just. Booted him, barely a warning. One minute he's arguing back for the first time since their keeping up appearances at the police event, and the next he's being dragged by the arm and shoved out of the house with threats of being killed if he dares to show his face back there. Just like that, all of it's pretty much gone; save for the clothes on his back and whatever he'd been carrying-- which was really only his car keys and his wallet. He was sleeping in his car for a bit until Two and Pony vaguely got on his ass because Darry's calls were going to voicemail and he was stupid enough to let it slip that he wasn't living at home anymore. Pony, being Pony, snitched. Can't have shit with that little gremlin around- so after finding his dumbass after having had the equivalent of an aneurism over suddenly being ghosted by Paul, Darry extended the offer for Paul to stay with them. He doesn't mind it being a permanent solution, but Paul is.. less fond for a few reasons; so he tries not to impose much while he looks for work. (He does eventually get something sorted out, so yippie! Helps with the bills what a guy) FORGOT TO ADD. He sneaks home at one point to try and get some of his shit because he knows where the spare key is, but gets cold feet at the door because he genuinely doesn't know if his dad will keep up with that threat.

[vintageshanny]

Officer Presley and the Librarian - Part 13 - Take My Hand

Content: The big day has arrived! Mostly just a lot of fluff and smut, ideal if you’re looking for a “feel-good” read, 18+

Catch up here: Officer Presley and the Librarian

“Baby, I know exactly what I should wear for the wedding!” Elvis came striding out of the closet with a pleased look on his face. He was still wearing his silky pajamas but was confidently holding up the leather suit with the lace-up pants that had you so…riled up in Las Vegas.

“You, you can’t wear that for our wedding,” you stammered, a flush spreading across your cheeks.

“Why not honey? I-I thought ya liked it?” A playful grin tugged up one side of Elvis’ mouth.

“I do.” Your eyes wandered over the suit as memories came flooding back. “Elvis!” you exclaimed, trying to stifle a laugh, your eyes catching a particular detail. “You left an…indentation in the pants!”

“Where?” Elvis turned the suit toward himself to see what you were giggling at, and a broad grin lit up his face at the way the fabric around the crotch was stretched and rippled. “Naw baby, that wasn’t me, that was your fault! Pullin’ at those laces with your teeth, makin’ me all hard inside that tight leather.” Elvis’ voice trailed off as he let the suit slip down to the floor from his grasp so he could pull you in close and bury his face in your neck.

“Mm-hmm, see, that’s why you can’t wear that.” You did your best not to moan at the feel of him licking and nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. “You’re gonna have me thinking all sorts of things.”

“Oh yeah?” You could feel Elvis’ smile against your skin. “What thoughts are those, baby?”

“You know,” you whispered, your face flushing. Despite all the intimate, vulnerable things you’d done together, you still felt embarrassed to say some things out loud.

“I don’t know, honey. Ya gotta tell me,” he teased, his hands roaming over your body as he continued his affectionate assault on your neck.

“I’d be thinking about, um, kissing you,” you nervously squeaked, feeling silly that the words you really wanted to say wouldn’t come out.

“Kissin’ me, huh? Like this?” Elvis’ mouth traced up your neck and across your cheek, landing squarely on your lips, his tongue gently pushing its way in. As he pulled back and looked at the blissful expression on your face, his soft lips, slightly parted, curved up into that crooked little grin that always made your heart skip a beat. “A big wet kiss like that, is that what you’d be thinkin’ ‘bout?”

“Yes, a big wet kiss, but down here.” Your hand trailed down his chest and landed on the real cause of the warped leather pants, your fingers massaging him softly through his pajama pants.

Elvis tilted his head back and let out a low groan, a little shiver running through his body. “Would ya be havin’ any other thoughts?”

“Mm-hmm. Lots of other thoughts. Like kissing and licking every single part of you. Every single part,” you repeated as you slipped your hand inside his pants and caressed his balls. He jerked forward a little bit, almost falling into you as you wrapped your hand around his warm package, delighted to feel it growing firmer in your hand. “And I’d be thinking about how good it feels when I take all of you into my mouth. Thinking about how sweet you taste when I satisfy you.” Now that you’d started, the words wouldn’t stop coming. “How badly I want you inside me, letting me know that I belong to you.”

“Goddamn honey, that sounds so good,” Elvis moaned, letting you push him back toward the bed.

“It seems like he doesn’t wanna wait until our wedding night after all,” you observed, pulling Elvis’ pants down, exposing his hard, throbbing dick, sticky precum gathered at the tip, just waiting to be tasted.

Elvis let out a breathy laugh through his panting and looked down at you sinking to your knees. “All that sweet talk made him all excited, baby. He needs ya right now, he needs ya real bad. Please give him some kisses, honey.”

Elvis leaned back against the bed as you pressed little kisses all over him before welcoming him into your warm mouth. His moans filled the air as you gave him all the love and attention he’d been needing. You looked up into the ecstasy on his face as you tasted him and knew all you wanted for the rest of your life was to make him feel loved.

You gave him one more kiss as he softened under your tender gaze and whispered “You can go back in your blanket and rest now.”

“Wh-wh-why do ya sometimes comment on his blanket?” Elvis asked, blushing a little bit as he pulled his pants up and lay back on the bed.

You curled up beside him and carefully considered how to respond. “Because I love it. I love that he has a warm blanket to stay in when he’s resting. And I love how it feels when it moves up and down, especially inside of me.” You could feel your face heating up at the thought. Truthfully, you sensed that Elvis was sometimes self-conscious about the blanket. You didn’t really know how common it was, but your ex-boyfriend did not have one.

“Ya really love it?” Elvis sounded surprised and a little doubtful. “Ya don't, uh, w-w-wish that it looked different? That’s a first,” he added under his breath, making your heart break a little that anyone would have made him feel bad about it.

“Of course I love it. I wouldn’t change a thing. And not just about, y’know, Little Elvis. I wouldn’t change a thing about you at all. Every part of you makes up this beautiful man that I fell in love with, that I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Elvis smiled and turned his head away, but not before you saw the tears welling up. He quickly defaulted to humor to change the subject. “Well, I guess that suit is out, if it’s gonna lead to ya pullin’ my pants down at the altar,” he laughed. “So what should I wear instead?”

“I always liked how you looked in that white suit from your TV special. Y’know, when you sang ‘If I Can Dream.’” You hummed a few bars of the song and smiled.

“Oh ya watched that?” Elvis asked with surprise.

“Of course! I watched it and thought, ‘If only that handsome man in the white suit would pull me over on my way home from work.’”

“Real funny, sweetheart!” You giggled as Elvis tickled your sides.

“It really was an incredible performance, though.” You let your hand rest on his chest and toy with the wisps of hair coming out of his pajama top.

“Thank ya, honey. I felt nervous ‘bout it. It was such an emotional song.”

“That’s what was so beautiful. There’s this thing that happens to you when you’re performing. I saw it at your shows in Las Vegas, too. Something comes over you, and it’s like you're completely lost in the passion of the performance. It’s really magical to watch.”

Elvis leaned over and kissed your forehead. “I’m an emotional man, I guess. I hope ya don’t mind it.”

“Just one of many things I love about you.” You wrapped your arms around him tighter, basking in his warmth.

*************************************************

“Which dress do you like better?” Lisa had arrived in town in the early afternoon, and the three of you were now looking through racks of wedding dresses at a bridal shop. Luckily, Lisa had taken a liking to you when you met over the summer, but you still felt oddly nervous about having the approval of a six-year-old.

Lisa scrunched her nose up in concentration and pointed to the dress with an empire waist. “That dress will have room for the baby.” You looked at her in shock and started to sputter a response, but she continued on. “Mommy says you must be having a baby to get married so fast.”

“Tell Mommy she should mind her own goddamn business,” Elvis muttered.

“Mommy wouldn’t like me ta say goddamn,” Lisa said calmly, the oddness of this whole conversation apparently lost on her.

You cleared your throat and broached the subject carefully. “What if we did end up having a baby? Would you like a little brother or sister?”

“Brother!” Elvis called out, refusing to accept he might be wrong.

“Would he do whatever I say?” Lisa asked curiously.

“Well, maybe not whatever you say, but I’m sure he’d look up to you a lot,” you explained.

She shrugged and turned back to the dresses. “I guess it would be okay. Can I wear pink for the wedding?” You smiled and nodded, relieved that the conversation had gone much better than you anticipated.

*************************************************

“You ready, sis?” Your little brother Jimmy, dressed in a powder blue suit, looked over at you, ready to take your arm and walk you down the aisle.

Elvis had insisted that he would have someone take care of every detail of the wedding, and true to his word, the backyard at Graceland had been transformed. White chairs were set up with a red carpet laid between them leading up to a makeshift altar. You could see Elvis, looking so handsome in his white suit, waiting for you at the other end of the aisle. Lisa had already walked down with her little basket of flower petals, and there was now nothing but thirty feet standing between you and the love of your life.

“I’m ready,” you whispered.

As you made your way down the aisle and then took your place right across from Elvis, a wave of emotions hit you. It was like you were floating through space, all the sounds around you muffled and distant until you were pulled back to Earth by the pastor saying your name.

“I understand you’ve each prepared your own vows?”

You nodded and stepped closer to Elvis, grabbing his hands in yours, surprised to discover that you both were trembling with emotion as you began to speak.

“Elvis.” You cleared your throat nervously and started again. “Elvis. One of the first things I noticed about you is your hands.” There was a slight tittering in the crowd, and you realized that might sound more risque than you’d intended. You blushed and continued. “These are hands that are so giving, so generous, so strong. These hands-” Your voice started to crack with emotion. “These hands built a better life for your family. These are hands that protect and take care of everyone around you, without hesitation. They have created a world that I am so lucky to be a part of. When I put my hand in yours, I know I am safe and loved. I look forward to holding onto these hands for a lifetime.”

You saw that Elvis’ eyes were glittering with tears as you finished your vows, and he turned and addressed the crowd jokingly. “If any of y’all mention I was up here cryin’ like a baby, I’ll come after ya!”

“I didn’t see nothin’!” one of his friends called out from the back, eliciting chuckles from the crowd.

Elvis turned back to you. “Baby, I’ve never known a woman who appreciated and loved every part of me, even the parts that I try to hide. You lift me up and support me in all the ways I need. You are the answer to every prayer, and I will spend my life loving you in every way that I know how.”

When the pastor finally announced you were husband and wife, both you and Elvis had tears running down your cheeks. That didn’t stop Elvis from dipping you backward for a dramatic first kiss. He grabbed your hand as you paraded back down the aisle together, joined as one.

*************************************************

“DId you enjoy the day, baby?” Elvis asked as you snuggled in next to him in bed, feeling a little chilly in the special white lingerie he had given you.

“It was beautiful,” you whispered, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“What was your favorite part?”

“Getting to tell all of our family and friends how special you are and how much I love you. And feeling your heartbeat when we danced together.” You smiled and reached to unbutton his pajamas. “But another favorite part is about to happen.”

“What’s that, baby?”

“Having my husband make love to me.”

“Oh, I think we can make that happen.” Elvis let you pull off his shirt, and he slid his pants down and kicked them off. “Honey, you look so beautiful.” He traced his fingers over your growing abdomen and then up over your breasts, squeezing them gently before pulling the straps of your negligee down, exposing your nipples to the cool air of the bedroom. “What a sight,” he whispered before leaning down to take each breast in his mouth, sucking at your hardened nipples. His hand wandered down and slipped under the negligee and inside the front of the matching white panties. He played with your soft folds, feeling the wetness grow as you moaned out his name.

“Elvis, I need you inside of me!”

“Don’t worry baby, I’ma take care of my wife.” Elvis slid your panties down and rolled on top of you, his hardness poking your thigh before he lined himself up with your entrance. “I want this ta be so special, baby, so I’ma try ta take it slow.” He looked you in the eyes as he started to slowly push his way in, forcing you to open up and accept him inside of you. “Oh, baby, I’ve missed bein’ inside of ya like this.” You could feel yourself clenching around him, squeezing as he pushed himself all the way in, as deep as he could go.

“Oh, God, Elvis, I love you,” you called out, ecstasy overtaking your every thought.

“I love ya too, baby.” Elvis continued looking in your eyes as he rhythmically thrust into you, slowly but firmly, taking his time until the all-consuming pleasure was too much for you both to bear.

Tag list: : @be-my-ally @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @powerofelvis @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @doll-elvis @artlover8992 @richardslady121 @everythingelvispresley @raginginkedslut @msamarican @pebbles403 @i-r-i-n-a-a

[ashtraysystem]

I'm writing a massage fic and making myself jealous of the characters. goddammit.

[cacaocheri]

we both deserve to be happy

in case anyone is wondering, it gets easier. it gets so so much easier and i hope you find the love you're looking for

[dyketubbo]

ik some people dont like considering the fact that minecraft is a game into their interpretation of lore but tbh i really like lore that acknowledges that their lives adhere to video game mechanics and thats a part of why i like that tubbo doesnt shy away from including his knowledge of game mechanics in his roleplay. it adds to his character and story and tubbos knowledge of how the game works directly translates to his character being extremely intelligent and skilled

and i think a big part of why people dont like acknowledging that tubbo isnt fail rping by using the game mechanics to his advantage is because they dont like admitting that hes intelligent. they dont like him being more than just the dumb bee boy. they dont like him being able to get a one up on their faves even though their faves are using game mechanics to their advantage too, hell because their faves are doing it too.

using game mechanics to his advantage isnt fail rp. being intelligent and skilled in his own way isnt fail rp. the admins keep him in line when they need to and when they dont they let him do his thing because no matter how many people get upset about it, tubbos knowledge of how the game works is fun and its cool to see.

a good roleplayer knows how to use the medium to their advantage. tubbo isnt failing rp or breaking the no metagaming rules in any way that actually ruins anyone elses enjoyment. hes just using the medium to his advantage. minecraft is a video game and there are literally plot points that depend on acknowledging that. tubbo is intelligent and on top of that he is a good roleplayer and its fine that he roleplays in a different way than some other ccs do because that makes him interesting. if you dont like it then theres a very easy solution: dont watch him

[daily-hanamura]

[xxplastic-cubexx]

sequel to this ramble cause the way james talks bout the reduced cherik scenes throughout the xmen films in this video is making me want to kill people. 'we'll always have paris darling' what if we all blew up.

[talentforlying]

tbh i think the coldest and most shocking thing that can happen in an argument with this man is if you call him "john" and he corrects you to "constantine". biggest red flag you can find on the play. sounds pretentious when you're not experiencing it. means he's absolutely fucking furious with you.

[gomacave]

S*fikura.......

[bmpmp3]

i do think its kinda funny when i see someone in the year of our lord 2024 talk about vocal synth music like its all gone downhill since like 2010 because like dont get me wrong i love a good niconicodouga-ass 2008 ass vocaloid joint BUT also like. the past couple years have had the most fascinatingly creative and expressive uses of vocal synthesizers ive ever heard in my life DJFSKHJDFS dont write it all off just yet!!

[moss-and-marimos]

you could literally start talking abt the grossest shit in my tags and I'd start clapping honestly pls do ramble

people who dont want to see talk of the intimacy and eroticism of horror and gore dont click read more vbjdhfdfvj

ougugghghhghghg goes wild its the intimacy and inherent eroticism of gore, sorry if this is a bit incoherent im tired but maybe I will dump more in your ask box another time bvjhdfd, for me its a sort of like fucked up thing between trusting the person to put you back together afterwards and wanting to be understood in a way nobody can without literally taking you apart, I guess kinda similar in a way to like wanting people to know about your trauma in a self destructive way, thats what a lot of it is to me that makes it interesting is the art of self destructive clearly unhealthy codependency dynamic between consumer and consumee, test subject and scientist, im not gonna put my own year old poem here bc it needs some revisions vbjdfd but to summarize it talks about being loved through the restraints binding you, and being seen as what you truly are, some mass of meat, and them taking you apart and loving you anyway. they will see you laid bare, more vulnerable than you have ever been, and they will make the choice that you deserve to stay, or in the case of cannibalism that they want you to be their nourishment. That in trusting you to take them apart, you are trusting them to sustain you. its really fucked and interesting to me. The idea that consumption or vivisection or similar are some warped sort of love, the same sort of way that people will abuse others and say theyre doing it because they love you, is very interesting to me. obviously its bad but its the only comparison I can draw here and its an interesting thing to explore in fiction. its a type of love that is obsessive and destructive and painful and violent and thats why its so interesting. And again referring to that poem I wrote last year "and you wish you could be a better test subject. and with the blood on their hands and a smile on your face you thank them. after all your life is in their hands." and "theyve been inside you more times than you can count, and something about that is so appealing. to be taken apart. to be examined. to be understood. oh how invasive. you long for it" and the fucked up eroticism of instead of having like idk bite marks or hickeys or whatever shit on you you're covered in scars from their invasiveness and tests, showing just how much you belong to them and just how well they know to put you back together. After cutting away everything vulnerable, after getting to just the bones (and maybe even cutting away those too), after seeing the abomination you are, they put you back together anyway, again and again. In both a metaphorical sense of like exploring trauma and trusting the other person with that and in a fictional but more literal sense, it is quite literally exploring the other person, and its incredibly intimate, and requires so so much trust.

[fragmentedblade]

Not to be a jingfu on main, but it's so cute that Jing Yuan thought of Fu Xuan with those jelly beans

[sirenemale]

Maybe I'm just desensitized from dealing with like cptsd probably ocd neurotic soup unchecked for my whole life and finding ways to just phase out the chatter of it but seeing ppl here talk abt moral ocd and stuff in a way where they refuse to be reminded of racism or anything is baffling to me. Like I don't get how that's helpful for you, instead of separating thoughts and morals from yourself and your actions you're just going oh no my religious ocd is triggered when ppl talk about me having privilege or benefitting from systemic oppression so therefore I'm never going to interact with marginalized people who talk about it ect ect ect. Or proship ppl being like it's too hard to take a stance against incest and age gap ships so they're just no holds bars for it now. Like again maybe I'm being mean, being online is hard I do think the way ppl talk is especially triggering for ocd and the whole born good born bad self flaggelation for forgiveness stuff never be wrong takes especially eat at me but they are symptoms ultimately and letting it box you out from ways you can actually genuienly improve as a person feels wildly unhelpful to me. Sitting with guilt and understanding what is real harm thats been done by you and actual bad things you believed and what is the brain chatter is crucial.