#AND LIKE. there’s no way to. make him not do what he does at that point. you cant stop it.

[noblest-roman-of-them-all]

This is my favorite one, because yeah, he probably would fucking say that, but how? Under what circumstances? What will it take for him to conceivably fucking say that? The situation most certainly exists, the question is, can I as a writer first discover this circumstance, then secondly can I write it in convincingly enough for the nay-sayers who are admittedly a bit boring and narrow-minded and forget that dynamic characters should, indeed, be dynamic and sometimes behave out of character, much like real human people behave out of character under certain circumstances?

The answer to would he fucking say that is almost always yes.

The answer to can I write him fucking saying that? Is a much trickier thing.

would he fucking say that? let's investigate.

[angelltheninth]

Love your LADS writings! Could we maybe get them reacting to their girlfriend wearing their shirt?

I love writing for LADS, now that Caleb is here there's even more hot men to fawn over.

Pining: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, sharing clothes, domestic fluff, clothes shopping, possessiveness, being playful, flirting

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Wrote this a bit fast because my new PC came in today so I need to set it up. It's gonna be awesome.

Zayne pretends not to notice that it's his shirt you're always wearing in the mornings when you stay over at his place. It's only a shirt, he's got many more just like it. So why is it getting to him when you wear it? Simple, it looks cuter on you, and he tries not to get worked up about it, that would go against his stoic, professional self. However when he sees you waring his clothes he always tells you that it looks good on you. A sort of subltle encouragement that you should do it more often, and also spend more time at his place because he tries not to leave his clothes at your place.

Rafayel wants to buy some matching clothes when he saw that you wear his on ocassion. He's always had a good sense of style and is very happy that you do to, furthermore that you like it so much that you want to wear what he waers. When he sees you wearing his clothes he makes sure to memorize what it looked like on you so he can sketch it later. Before he knows it there are a dozen sketches of you in his clothes. Not that it's a bad thing by any means and he thinks you're catching on to him buying matching clothes because every time you're on a date you're pointing out cute outfits that you say would look great on him.

Xavier doesn't think much of it when he leaves some of his stuff at your place when he comes and goes. What he does think about is how his pants looked on you, too long, cozy, some a bit tight on you, others hanging off your hips, all depending on what you get your hands on at the time. The scene is almost domestic, seeing you not even think about putting on something of his, you don't even say why you do it and he's fascinated by that. Playfuly he tugs on the waistband of the pants and tells you he wants them back, only for you to turn the tables and tell him to take them off you if he wants them so bad.

Sylus is very perceptive of what you do when you're around him so there's no way he wouldn't notice you wearing his fancy shirts around the apartment. Those aren't exactly outfits for casual wear so there was no way you could have mistaken them for one of your own, which means you took them on purpouse. A man like him doesn't do well when other people touch what belongs to him without his permission. It's bad bussiness practice, and dangerous when you're in deep with criminals like he is. But he could be persuaded to let you get away with it, only because you're his girl and his girl can do whatever she wants with and to him.

Caleb leaves his hoodie at your place on purpouse. He did it because he wanted to use it as an excuse to visit again early, he didn't expect that you'd be wearing it when you opened the door for him. All the blood rushed to his brain and caused him to stop all train of thought for a few moments before he smirked and leaned in to whisper how cute you look, his breath hot against your lips before he claimed them in a seering kiss. From that day on he never mentioned anything about you giving him his clothes back. Why would he want it back when it looks so much better on you, sometimes it's all you wear around him.

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ she see money all around me, i look like i'm the man

includes: itoshi sae x fem! reader. 0.8k wc. fluff.

a/n: provider sae, we all cheered !! inspired by that one tiktok trend lol

not much grabs itoshi sae's attention, so you have to get creative.

"sae, i can't help pay rent this month." even though he doesn't glance away from the computer screen, the twitch on his face is obvious. the furrowed brows, his fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard, the imaginary question mark brewing over his head—all of it subtle but still priceless.

to be fair, he doesn't even recall being this confused when his parents agreed to send him abroad at the ripe age of thirteen—that too, all by himself!

for someone as strict as itoshi sae, he should receive an award for how quickly he paused his work to simply process whatever the fuck just came out of your mouth. "you can't, what?" he finally says, still keeping his gaze focused on the screen.

this is harder than you thought. not the pranking part; the holding in your laughter part. you somehow manage to keep it in for the sake of the bit.

"yeah, i just don't have the money to help you pay our rent this month," you continue, further emphasizing your dilemma (knowing damn well it doesn’t exist) awaiting his reaction.

but of course, your prank backfires spectacularly. the dramatic reaction you were hoping for? nowhere to be found. instead, he just crosses his arms and finally turns his chair to stare at you like you're the ridiculous one in this scenario. sae leans back in his chair, letting linger another one of those infuriatingly calm looks that make you want to simultaneously throw something at him and admire how annoyingly composed he is. "i know?" he claimed, neutrally, with a quirk of his brow like...duhh?

he continued, not even trying to be offensive, just merely stating the facts he has gathered living with you over the years. "when have you ever paid rent?"

…why would you?

he’s suddenly wondering if, overnight, you forgot you’re itoshi sae’s girl. hell, he doesn’t even let you pay for something as little as webtoon coins—hence why he made sure his card info was saved on your phone. rent was too far of a stretch to claim, even as a joke, and you know this too.

with how adamant sae is, the world could collapse before he let you contribute a single penny.

but damn, did that make it make it hard for you to continue this act.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, to salvage the prank, but your brain is running on a blank slate. "i mean," you clear your throat, trying to recover. "it’s about the…principle? you know, of financial responsibility and, um—" sae tilts his head, looking wholly unimpressed. "do you even know how much rent is?" your mouth opens. closes. he waits. you scramble. "well, yeah, of course, i—" "how much?" he asks, deadpan. your lips part, but the number? nowhere to be found. you had not, at any point in your life, thought to ask. sae quirks a brow, clearly entertained by your pathetic attempt to keep going. he rests his chin in his palm, watching you struggle with the kind of calm that makes it painfully obvious he’s enjoying this. "you were saying?" he prompts, his voice laced with amusement. you huff, cheeks growing warm. "forget it. you ruined it." but before you can even sulk properly, sae reaches forward and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you in with zero effort. a yelp escapes you as he shifts you into his lap, securing you there with both arms now locked around you. your heart does this stupid little thing where it stumbles over itself because you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and—oh god—the way his lips are ridiculously close to your ear. "did i? or did you just get caught?" he murmurs, voice low and entirely too smug. "you—!" your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders, trying to put some space between you two, but he doesn't let you. if anything, he picks you up to place you fully against his chest. "go on, finish your little act," he challenges, lips curling into a smirk. you glare at him, ignoring the rapid pounding of your heart. "i hate you." "yeah?" his voice is a quiet hum, teasing, daring you to keep going. "i guess that’s what i get for absolutely spoiling the shit out of my girlfriend." you pout, trying to look annoyed, but your resistance fades as you sink into his arms.

instead of staying smug, sae softens his grip just a little, his tone becoming more serious. "i take care of what’s mine, so don’t bother pulling tricks on me before you empty my bank account."

"do you understand?" he continues, his voice low and steady as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. the softness of the gesture contrasts with the firmness of his words, leaving you to wonder how he always manages to make you this flustered every time. all you can do is just nod, giving in to the fact that your boyfriend is a rich snob who always gets his way—one you’re completely obsessed with, no less. seriously, what are you gonna do with him? 🤍

[muniimyg]

ੈ εつ‧₊˚° ♡ ༘ ctrl+alt+delete // jjk ༘ ♡ °˚₊‧ εつ ੈ*

25 // next // series m. list

note: the reveal !

warnings: kissing, grinding, missionary, ummm.. one leg on headboard position idk, doggy, and riding ! dirty talk (daddy, fanboy, fucktoy, whore, etc) idk what else but that's the vibe ! enj <3

//

the past month with jungkook has been nothing short of fun and comfort. all you’ve felt with him is this kind of warmth that sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

jungkook is playful in ways that make your stomach ache from laughter and patient in ways that make your heart swell. he’s always giving in, always biting into you—whether it’s your words, your antics, or the way you press your fingers into his jaw when he teases you too much. he’s funny and charming in ways that are overbearing—smothering—if it weren’t for the fact that you love every second of it. 

and god… 

it’s been so hard not to slip out the words. 

you love him. 

it’s only been a month, but what the fuck does time has to do with the kind of certainty he makes you feel? the kind of love he makes you believe in? 

because this is… this is it. this is love. there is nothing else it could be. 

jungkoook is a gentleman in ways you never expected. 

not just in the hold-the-door-open-for-you way, but in the way he holds it open for the people behind you, too. to him, it’s second nature. it’s the same way it’s second nature for him to shrug off his hoodie and tug it over your shoulders before you even realize you’re cold. it’s in the way he loves everything you are, everything you wear, but still, when you lean in to take a bite of food, his hand finds your chest, shielding you from prying eyes like it’s instinct.

“baby,” you laugh, mid-bite, muffled. “you don’t have to do that.”

he just shrugs, nonchalant. “they don’t deserve the view.”

even at the movies, as he walks behind you, it’s the way his hand is placed at your lower back, guiding and protective. in crowded spaces, he pulls you into his side and tucks you against him like a secret. at dinners, he doesn’t just push your chair in—he makes sure your drink is within reach, makes sure you get the first bite of his food before he even digs into his own.

it’s so strange. 

to feel such passion for someone in a short amount of time—but who are you to reject such goodness? such satisfaction? 

so you don’t. 

for the past month, you have let yourself be loved the way you deserve to be. for the past month, you have been loving him the way he deserves to be loved… except, through sex. 

oh god. 

sex. 

you haven’t had sex with anyone since your ex-boyfriend. it’s always just been you and your vibrators… so, when you met jungkook—fuck. 

you were excited. 

but after the first time you met and he didn’t kiss you… you had a gut feeling sex with him would take time. which is fine. he’s a loser anyway, what did you expect? 

but time (and ovulation) catches up. your lips want to kiss something that isn’t his lips. in fact, you want his lips to be kissing your lips—the ones in between your legs. 

the frustration has been eating you up for days. so, you give in to your cravings at your one month mark. it was a joke—at least, it was meant to be one… instead, you find yourself scrambling through your closet for lingerie you think he’ll like best. 

you choose black. 

simple, classy, and sexy. perfect for him. 

once you get yourself dressed, you put on a silk robe and spray your favourite perfume. you touch up your make-up (yes, we’re wearing makeup and sweating it off) and eagerly wait for him. for a moment, you stare at yourself in the mirror and tilt your head. 

wow, you’re so pretty. 

you hope he lasts longer than 5 minutes—

just then, there’s a knock on the door

hurriedly, you let out a little squeal before heading to the front door. 

as you open the door, you find jungkook standing there, a cake box balanced in one hand, the other shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. his hair is a mess—like he’s been running his fingers through it over and over, the way he always does when he’s nervous. but the smirk tugging at his lips betrays him.

without a word, he lifts the lid of the box, revealing the cake inside. in bright, obnoxious frosting, the words;

best dick ever 

… stare back at you.

you blink. 

then snort. 

then burst into laughter, covering your mouth with your hand. 

“aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”

“oh… right. sorry,” he says, feigning innocence as he tilts his head. “should i make it up to you?”

you narrow your eyes. “yeah.”

his brows lift, playful. “yeah? like how?”

you don’t answer. instead, you grab a fistful of his hoodie and pull him in, catching his mouth in a kiss. he hums against your lips, the corners of his mouth quirking up. mid-kiss, he murmurs, “happy one month, baby.”

you laugh into him, harder this time, shaking your head as your arms slip around his neck. and when he tugs at the knot of your robe, letting it slip from your shoulders, he throws his head back with a groan—boyish, excited, so very him.

“fuck,” he grins, placing the cake down on the coffee table without looking, hands already reaching for you. but you’re already a step ahead, fisting his hoodie again, tugging him toward your room.

he follows without hesitation.

 the hottest thing anyone can do is want you.

like, all of you. 

jungkook is sure to do just that. 

the minute jungkook steps into your bedroom, he tugs his hoodie over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him without a second thought. his hands move to his pocket, pulling out his phone. at first, you think he’s checking something—maybe a text, maybe the time—but instead, he holds it up so you can see.

the screen goes black as he shuts it off.

for a second, you’re confused. he’s always on his phone, always checking something, scrolling absentmindedly even in the middle of conversations. but then, it clicks.

jungkook wants all of you.

this isn’t about notifications ruining the mood, not about avoiding distractions or the buzz of the outside world. it’s a quiet declaration—he doesn’t need a screen, doesn’t need to record, doesn’t need anything but this. he doesn’t need proof. 

he just needs you.

his eyes flicker up to meet yours, searching, waiting.

your chest tightens, warmth blooming in your stomach. you swallow, stepping closer, fingers skimming over his wrist before you take the phone from his hand, placing it on your nightstand.

“just us?” you murmur.

his lips twitch. 

“just us.”

and then he’s kissing you, slow and deep, like he’s savoring the moment already. like he’s making sure you feel it, too.

for someone who has been salivating, craving, and whining for his dick—you sure have a funny way of showing him just how bad you want it. 

as jungkook’s toned and slightly sweaty body towers of you, you bite your lip and watch the way his chain dangles above. you’re sweating a bit, a little overstimulated from the way he just finished eating you out. 

of course, he edged you. he didn’t let you finish on his tongue, but you were so fucking close. your pussy is currently throbbing and so sore from the agonizing pain of clenching. 

jungkook smirks, watching you regulate your breathing. you aren’t panting or anything, but he can tell you’re trying to play it cool. he leans in, kissing your lips ever so slightly. 

“it’s okay to cum.”

“says you.”

he chuckles and mocks you. “says you.”

“shut up and put it in.”

jungkook raises a brow at you. “i’d watch your mouth if i were you.”

“why’s that, daddy? am i being naughty? we’re not even doing this raw. if anything, i’m not being naughty enough.”

he rolls his eyes. 

“you and your fucking attitude.” 

“what attitude?”

“shut up.”

“you shut up—oh…”

jungkook holds his length and glides it around your entrance. you feel his head enter for a millisecond before he uses his hard cock to split through your wet folds. he hums, taking the feeling in. you let out little whimpers, needy and ever so lewd.

it’s music to his ears. in fact, it’s his favourite melody. 

“gonna put it in,” jungkook prepares you. “okay, baby?”

“o-okay,” you breathe. “mhmmmm…”

then, jungkook hisses. 

he feels himself harden even more as he pushes himself inside you. your cunt is so fucking tight, it sends shivers throughout his body. you’re so warm and so fucking pretty as he watches the way you shift, adjusting to his size. you roll your shoulders back, your chin is slightly tilted as you whimper his name. 

“jungkook…”

“mhmm?” 

he moves in more, and then entirely. jungkook buries his long, hard, thick, and veiny cock inside you. it slips in easily, all thanks to your precious wetness. jungkook shifts his position, lowering his body more and places kisses around your neck to your ear. 

for a moment, he blanks. 

this is all he has ever wanted. he wanted to wait for a month because of everything you were dealing with but also because… he knew it would be worth the wait. the tension, the built connection, and the yearning… oh god, does this feel so fucking good. 

to put it into perspective; you’re home and he’s been homesick. 

“nghhh… jungkook?”

“yes, baby?”

“can you put it in?”

jungkook’s eyes shoot up at you. 

his pleasurable expression changes into a death glare. 

instantly, you throw your head back and laugh. you mumble an apology and cup his cheeks to kiss him. he bites your bottom lip as he pulls away. pouting, he huffs at you. 

“that wasn’t funny.”

“it was so funny.”

“you’re the worst, actually.”

“i know,” you agree. “i’m sorry. you’re actually really big.”

his glare stills. 

“how big?”

you sigh and give in to what he’s leading you to. 

“you’re too big daddy,” you begin to praise him. “never felt cock like this. feel you in my guts… god, are you gonna rearrange them? gonna slut me out? bet watching me all this time made you so horny. did i make you horny? was waiting out one month worth it? do i feel good, baby? how does your giant monster cock feel good inside me? or… are you just gonna be a little bitch and make me do all the work? make me fuck you like the good little fanboy you are?”

“not a fucking fanboy.”

“but you are my stupid fanboy… you must’ve loved watching me get myself off. how does it feel, daddy? how does it feel to fuck the pussy you’ve been dreaming of?”

jungkook moans in response. 

“so good..”

“how good?”

“too good…”

he places one forearm down beside you as the other reaches for your breasts. squeezing it, he begins to thrust in and out of you. 

“ohhh.. oh my god… yes, yes, yes! y-yeah, that’s it…” you moan. “just like that, daddy… fucking me so gently… come on, daddy—i know i’m your favourite toy. use me, okay? promise to use me like a little bitch?”

jungkook hisses through his teeth. 

“don’t talk about yourself like that, baby. you know how much i—”

“how much you… what?”

love you. 

“how much i… god, you’re so pretty. have you always been this pretty? feel like you got prettier.” 

with that, he fucks you harder and faster. the switch-up is so crazy that you hit your head on your headboard. 

“shit, you okay?”

you can’t help but laugh. 

“i’m fine,” you reassure him. “come on, daddy… keep going.” 

as he fucks you, your breasts move in unison and he can’t help but drool at the sight. for a split second, you feel him tremble. 

it’s like he’s about to give in. 

so, you do the only logical thing you can. 

you gasp, eyes widening, mouth hanging open in exaggerated shock. then, slowly—dramatically—you stick your arm out, turning your thumb downward like you’ve just witnessed the most tragic disappointment of your life.

“boooooo!” 

“w-what the fuck?” jungkook rolls his eyes. 

without hesitation, he roughly places his hand over your neck. tightening his grip, he fucks you harder. you gasp for air and roll your eyes back. 

you take the feeling it. 

how rough and fast he’s pumping himself inside you. how you feel yourself climaxing soon… how wet you are and how it’s spilling into your sheets. how his dick feels inside you—like it belongs inside you. 

the curve of his tip hits specific spots inside you that has never been reached before. his length, girth, and motion compliment each other—making him fucking you easily your favourite feeling in the world. 

perhaps, he was right about waiting for a month. 

the yearning and tension makes all of this feel a million times more worth it. 

“nghhh,” you croak. “yes, yes yes… that’s it, daddy… f-fuck me harder! fuck me so hard!”

“you want me to fuck you harder, baby?” 

“mhmm. fuck me so good, please… wanna more.”

jungkook nods and takes his hand off of your throat. he lets you catch your breath before he pulls himself out of you. jungkook places his hands on your waist and pulls you down. without hesitation, he kneels and lifts you. both of your ears ring from how fast your hearts are beating as he takes one and places it on the headboard and leaves the other on the mattress. 

“look down,” jungkook spits. 

obediently, you do. 

he hisses, jerks himself off, and then shoves his cock inside you. 

you watch as his balls smack into your ass. you watch as he moves his hips, dragging his dick in and out of you. you hear the sound of your wet pussy, sucking his length as he pulls out. before you know it, jungkook is smacking your ass. you see his hand flying to your cheeks and you let out a whimper as his palms make contact with your ass. 

“nghh…. feels so—”

“you wanna be treated like a fucking whore? look at your pussy right now. look at how much it needs my stupid cock. do you see it, baby? do you see how desperate your pussy needs my cock?”

“yeah,” you choke out a sob. “need you so much… my pussy is yours, daddy. so fucking yours—ahh! oh my god, oh my god—j-jungkook!”

he grabs a handful of your hair and pulls you back up. roughly, he tugs your hair and kisses you. you let out a moan as he takes your leg off your headboard and brings you to the edge of your bed. naturally, you get on all fours and arch your back. he gets off the bed and stands behind you. he licks his fingers and explores your folds before placing his dick back inside. 

as expected, he fucks you like an absolute dog. 

“this is what you wanted, right?”

“m-mhmm,” you moan. “so good. you fuck me so good, daddy..”

“that’s right, baby… only me. god, your ass is so pretty. your tits are so perfect. you’re so… holy fuck, you’re my dream girl.”

“yeah?” you blush, fighting the urge to cum. 

“yeah,” jungkook whimpers. “my dream girl.”

with that, he pulls himself out. you crawl back to the middle of your bed and wait for him to join you. when he does, he crashes his lips onto yours and gives you this deep and passionate kiss. like he’s never kissed you before… it feels so new. 

without exchanging words, you grab him by his shoulders and have him lie down. you get on top and begin to grind on him. jungkook watches with his brows knitted together and his throat dries as you hump his cock. then, he loses it when you lift your hips and take a hold of his cock. 

“can we… can i?”

jungkook nods. 

no hesitation.

not a thought behind his doe eyes.

nothing. 

of course, he’d do it raw with you. 

anything you want. 

with loving eyes, jungkook watches as you peel the condom off his angry cock. you twist the plastic around your fingers and gather it all up before dangling it in front of him. 

“you have to cum inside me.”

“okay.”

“promise?”

“promise.”

happily, you toss the condom to the side and giggle.

planting your legs on either side of him, you sit on top of his raw cock and rub yourself on it. you move your hips up and down, taking the feeling of how the curves of his dick feel against your swollen pussy. jungkook watches his dick’s tip grow angrier and angrier. 

and just when he feels like it’s about to explore—

“ohhh,” you shiver as you sink into his cock. “holy shit…”

jungkook lets out a relieved moan. you hum as he throws his head back and shuts his eyes. you feel him harden even more inside of you. as a reaction, your walls tighten. 

“feel so good, baby…”

“yeah? open your eyes, daddy… don’t you wanna watch me fuck you?”

jungkook doesn’t know if he’ll last if he sees this. if he watches your tits bounce or if he watches the way your pussy eats his dick up… he can’t. he’s not strong enough. 

“might cum if i do.”

you laugh and hit his chest. 

“okay… cum then.” 

suddenly, you grab his hand and place it on your breast.

jungkook lifts his head and opens his eyes. he watches as you bounce on his dick shamelessly. you throw your head back. your hips move fast and slow—dragging the consuming feeling of climaxing out. 

then, jungkook feels his hips about to buck. 

“___,” he huffs. “gonna cum…’

“me too,” you pant.

jungkook winces, feeling his toes curl. he feels like he’s just been hit by lightening as this sense of electricity rushes throughout his body. jungkook cums inside you, spilling as you continue to ride him. 

shortly after, you cum. 

then, you get off him.

you fit yourself into jungkook’s arms without a second thought, tucking yourself against his chest like you belong there—because you do. his warmth wraps around you instantly, familiar and safe, and he presses a kiss to your lips, then your forehead, lingering just long enough to make your heart stutter.

then, he murmurs, “so… best dick ever?”

you groan, smacking his chest, but you’re already laughing. you’re already pulling him in for another kiss. he’s already kissing you back. 

“best dick ever.”

the room is quiet. 

your breathing is even, soft against the pillow, completely knocked out. jungkook lays there for a moment, staring at the ceiling before sighing, pushing the covers off. he’s thirsty.

jungkook rubs a hand over his face as he makes his way to the kitchen, feet padding softly against the floor. he’s thirsty.

but when he gets there, he stops.

hoseok is at the sink, sleeves rolled up, hands submerged in soapy water. his hair is slightly damp, like he’s just gotten home and taken a quick shower. the fridge door is still cracked open from when he shoved the cake inside.

jungkook leans against the counter, watching him. "you just get back?"

hoseok doesn’t look up. 

"yeah. figured i’d clean up a bit."

jungkook hums, grabbing a glass. he watches as hoseok rinses a plate, setting it neatly in the drying rack. his movements are methodical, familiar.

"you always do this?" jungkook asks, filling his glass with water. “wash dishes at 3am?”

hoseok shrugs. "she’s sensitive to smell. hates waking up to dirty dishes."

there’s something about the way he says it, like he’s done this a thousand times before, like it’s second nature. jungkook doesn’t like the way that sits in his chest.

jungkook takes a sip of water, trying to figure out the vibe right now. he’s never really had any issues with hoseok before but for some reason… right now… something feels off. 

hoseok finishes up, wiping his hands on a towel before tossing it onto the counter.

"you should get some sleep," he says, already heading towards his room.

jungkook swallows the last of his water. "i’ll wash my cup."

hoseok raises a brow. "you don’t have to."

"i want to."

there’s a brief pause before hoseok nods, drying his hands one last time before disappearing down the hall. jungkook turns back to the sink, rinsing out his cup. then, just as he reaches for the faucet, something buzzes.

he glances over. hoseok’s phone, left carelessly on the counter, screen lighting up with a notification.

jungkook shouldn’t look. he knows that.

but he does anyway.

@ donotdisturb: hobi idc if you gave me the video ffs @ donotdisturb: u gave that to me all on ur own. i never asked for that shit. i tweeted it, but u supplied it. get that thru ur fucking head. it’s ur fault.  @ donotdisturb: u’ve stalled her enough. she’s pushing thru with the fucking lawsuit thanks to that fucking jungkook guy. do u get that?  @ donotdisturb: i’m getting sued and it’s all ur fault @ donotdisturb: shit, what kind of a best friend are u to her anyway? going thru her shit and stealing her fucking sex tape to send to a hater like me when the gag is that u’re her biggest hater. what is that?  @ donotdisturb: thought u liked her lol. turns out u’re the worst wannabe boyfriend  @ donotdisturb: stop the lawsuit or send me fucking money to pay the settlement. this is ur last warning before i expose u. 

jungkook freezes as he reads the notifications. 

his grip tightens around the cup. his jaw clenches. the words sit heavy in his stomach, stirring something ugly.

before he can think, before he can stop himself, he picks up the phone and storms down the hall, shoving open hoseok’s door without knocking.

hoseok barely has time to react before jungkook is in his face, voice sharp. 

"what the fuck did you do?"

hoseok freezes for half a second, then instantly goes on the defensive. "who the fuck do you think you are barging into my room like this?" he snaps. "why do you have my fucking phone? give me that—”

“it was you.”

“what the fuck are you on? holy shit, you’re so fucking irritating, you know that? i get you’re her boyfriend, but this is my fucking room, that’s my fucking phone, and she’s my fucking best friend—"

"that’s all she is to you," jungkook bites. "right?"

silence.

before hoseok can even open his mouth to say anything, you appear in the doorway, rubbing sleep from your eyes. you don’t even think twice before stepping into jungkook’s side, arms looping around his waist as you nuzzle into him.

"why are you guys so loud?" you mumble, half awake. "what’s going on?"

jungkook doesn’t look away from hoseok. yet, his arm tightens around you.

“___…” hoseok begins. “jungkook… it’s late. we can talk about this tomorrow—”

“no,” jungkook spits. “explain yourself now.”

hoseok steps forward, attempting to grab his phone. jungkook doesn’t move back. instead, he offers the phone to you. 

you stare at it blankly. 

with worried eyes, hoseok shakes his head. “please, jungkook. i’m begging you. don’t—”

“tell her," jungkook deadpans. his tone is steady and leaves no room for argument. he means it with all his heart when he threatens hoseok; "right now… tell her or i will."

[steddieprompts]

some years after everything and Steve and Eddie are basically the only ones left in Hawkins. They got an apartment together. They are very tight friends.

They are out together one early summer evening at Melvalds doing some shopping. Steve leaves the store first, Eddie still has his nose buried in a magazine he fully does not intend to buy.

"Steve!" Steve looks up from assessing the contents of his shopping bag to see none other that Tommy Hagan.

"Hey, Tommy. You're back in town." Steve tries to sound amicable without it being forced.

"Yeah just visiting the family. I heard you were still hanging around here. You should come visit in New York! Donna would love to meet you."

"Donna? What happened to Carol?"

"Shit, I guess I haven't seen you in a while." Tommy replied with a sharp smile that made Steve set his teeth. "She couldn't handle New York, you know. She missed her mom and didn't like how busy the city was," he explained dismissively. "She got all... moody. Depressed. She was a real downer so I told her she should just go back home and rot away if that's what she wanted... No offence," He tacked on without much remorse.

"Is she doing better? I haven't seen her around." Steve asked, hearing the tension in his voice.

"Beats me. Haven't heard from her," Tommy replied flippant, his gaze drifting off over Steve's shoulder. "Holy shit is that Munson? I should have guessed the freak would still be here."

Before Steve could figure out what to say to that besides punching Hagan in the face, Eddie was next to him, nose still in the magazine, grocery bag handing from his right elbow. "Stevie I had to buy it, you will not believe what they're saying about Ozzy... Hagan."

Steve could hear the life drop out of Eddie's voice as soon as he realized who he was standing in front of. He hated it.

"Jesus, is he crazy? Is he stalking you or something, Steve?"

"What?"

"Munson, you can chase Steve all you want, but he's not on your team, Freak." Hagan said, sniggering at Steve, like they were still in high school, like Steve was still that person.

Steve snapped.

Dredging up the suave Steve from all those years ago he draped his arm over Eddie's shoulder, making sure to give Eddie's shoulder a gentle squeeze as he did, his thumb brushing over the skin of Eddie's neck.

"I'm not sure you really know me any more, Hagan," Steve responded, cool and collected. As he said it he felt Eddie relax against him. Picking up on his plan immediately, Steve felt Eddie's arm come up behind him, his hand settling just above the hem of Steve's jeans.

"Oh, no," Tommy said through a sarcastic chuckle, "There is no way that Steve Harrington went fa--"

"If you finish that word I'll punch you so hard your freckles fall off," Steve bit out. "Have a nice trip back to New York."

With that he and Eddie turned toward his car, still holding tight to each other and not sparing Hagan another look. When they got to the car Steve pressed a kiss to Eddie's hair before they separated, Eddie's hand trailing along Steve's back.

They got in the car quietly and Steve backed out of the space, staring back toward their apartment, neither of them saying a word until they had driven a few blocks.

"I'm sorry," Steve finally gritted out into the quiet of the car.

"For what?" Eddie asked, confusion making him look over at Steve.

"For that. For him," Steve said and Eddie noticed how hard he was gripping the wheel.

"Steve, pull over." Steve sighed and pulled the car over to the side of the road; forest on one side, sleepy houses on the other. "Why are you apologizing for him?"

"Just..." Steve let out a sharp breath. He hadn't looked at Eddie yet. "Seeing him again. Hearing that garbage we used to..." Steve wrung the steering wheel like he was trying to break it "It was like I was back in high school calling Jonathan... that, and... Hagan just brought all of it back! All the shit!"

"Hey! Okay, Stevie, hey," Eddie reached out to gently touch Steve's arm, trying to bring him back. "That's him, not you."

"It was me!" He yelled, finally turning to Eddie.

"Was, Steve, was," Eddie replied, turning in his seat so he could face Steve. "You are not the same person you were in high school, not by a long fucking shot."

Steve hung his head and took a deep breath.

"And you're are not Tommy Hagan." Eddie added and then waited. Waited while Steve calmed. He gave a slight nod of his head.

"I'm sorry I used you like that," Steve finally said.

"What?"

"Pretending we were together. It was the only thing I could think to do."

"Stevie, I am never opposed to having a stud of your caliber on my arm." Eddie grinned as he watched Steve try to fight off a smile. "Besides, the only reason I didn't try to rip his face off is 'cuz your arm was around me. One more second and Carol would have needed a new boyfriend."

"He left Carol."

"What?"

"She got depressed in New York and he dumped her."

Eddie was silent for a while. "That's awful."

Steve nodded.

After a moment Eddie shifted so he was sitting straight in his seat. "Let's go, Stevie. The ice cream should be in our stomaches by now."

Steve nodded and pulled back onto the road.

"Thank you, by the way." Eddie added.

"My pleasure." Steve smarmed at him.

"Oh I bet it was. You can't resist all this, I know." Eddie said, tossing his hair over his shoulder.

"Oh, baby! Ow!" Steve hooted as Eddie cackled. "Oh I am so telling Robin about this on our next call," He chuckled.

(possible part 2 where they realize their feelings but like... don't hold your breath)

(lmao couldn't stop thinking about it, here's part 2)

[girl-lostconnection]

I just wanna say I love your fruit bat!reader and I just had to think about the boys further misunderstanding when reader maybe has a darker aesthetic, but reader doesn't get at all the connection cause like yeah black's just a neat colour, oh I guess vampires are cool. Wait me? *Mouthful of orange or something* me no fruits all the way? I don't know what you mean.

On one side it would be incredibly funny as misunderstanding but the devil is whispering in my ear so let’s walk the other way.

Imagine Reader freshly selected to join the team, nervous about meeting new people who they read EVERYTHING on, just to be ready.

And no one is hostile, right? They are friendly, almost too friendly, which grates on your nerves a little but you know, maybe you are thinking too much about it?

Works up until the first joke about the vampires, huge wolf operator (you find out later that his call sign is Ghost).

“Know why people don’t like workin’ with vampire bats?”, the question catches you off guard, your eyes snapping to the man’s eyes and you tilt your head to the side. You don’t know him yet, you aren’t sure how much of a reaction is allowed in this circumstance.

“‘Cause they are pain in the neck”, he announces, his brown eyes boring a hole into you, his tail wagging like he is waiting for you to start laughing.

You don’t. You stare right back at him, fingers flexing so the sharp points of your claws dig into your palm and you manage a smile that feels a little too forced.

Big wolf in front of you apparently sees it as well, because you can see the way his jaw flexes under the mask.

So for some reason he decides to give it another go. (Only months later you will find out that Simon was desperately scrambling for all the bat x vampire puns he remembered, thinking that the first one sounded a little too abrasive)

“What drink does bat order at the bar?”, he asks, his left ear giving in a small twitch that catches your eye. He sure is big for the wolf, most of their family you met in the past were tall and lean but this guy is built like a bloody tank.

“What?”, you ask, heart beating a little harder than you’d like it, anxiety coiling in your gut.

“A Bloody Mary”, wolf hums out, his ear giving in another twitch and corners of your mouth curl upwards. Cute.

Wolf’s tail starts to wag again, eyes satisfied as he walks off and you follow him to see your new space and unpack.

Isn’t so bad for the first meeting, right?

But in hindsight every interaction from then on felt…somehow forced. Recurring about blood and meat and fucking Halloween. Remarks about wearing too much black or the way Soap once chuckled at the silver chain with a beautiful red cross. Not a religious symbol but simply an accessory you liked.

It all was piling up so quickly you decided to just…stay on the outside. Maybe that would be better. Maybe they were trying to tell you that they didn’t want a bat and didn’t like bats.

That they didn’t like you.

It takes time to undo and the process is slow — you are a tough nut to crack, but they don’t try to crack you. Just…make amends, yeah?

Your relationship with Simon makes a cycle when he peels you oranges, eyes soft as you devour pieces of peaches.

“Do you know what’s a vegetarian vampire bat’s favourite fruit, luv?”, he hums out, placing a peeled orange in your bowl, something in his tone making you feel fuzzy.

“What is it?”, his tail is wagging and god the way he looks at you makes something tender in your chest ache, you mouth voluntarily falling open when he pushes a piece of peach in it, eyes crinkling.

“A neck-tarine”, Simon murmurs, his tail wagging harder when you laugh after a beat, juices from fruit dripping down your chin.

You shake your head at him in faux disbelief and he grins, popping a slice of orange in his mouth.

“Can do it all night”

You roll your eyes and instinctively smack his hand away when he tries to steal your bowl.

“That’s what I’m afraid of”

[moonstruckme]

remus one shot where he can’t stop blushing around the reader because he has a huge crush on her and sirius and james are like dude please ask her out already?? 🙈

cw: the trials and tribulations of a restaurant job, semi-confident reader (or at least she can withstand Sirius' flirting, which I couldn't), James and Sirius' shameless wingmanning

shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

The cafe is crammed. You’ve almost tripped over two kids already whose parents let them run loose, you did let a glass slip from your tray when a customer stuck his leg out into the walkway without looking, and you’ve quickly reached the conclusion that today was definitely the wrong day to break in your new work shoes. You’re on your last straw at only ten in the morning, but your pasted-on smile becomes twice as genuine when you see a table of your favorite regulars. 

“Hi,” you say warmly, clicking your pen and readying it above your pad. “How are we doing today?” 

You’re greeted with two dazzling grins from one side of the booth and a shyer smile from the other. 

“Y/n,” says Sirius, in his suave, flirtatious way (you’ve learned not to take it personally), “you’re looking stunning.” 

You know your hair is suffering from the weather outside and there’s orange juice down the front of your apron, but you smile at him anyway. “Thank you, so are you.” 

“How’s your morning going?” James asks. These boys are never ones to skip over pleasantries to get to their meal, and while with other tables you might try to hurry them along, you never mind in this case. Today especially, you welcome the break. 

“Oh, it’s going,” you try to joke, looking pointedly down at your orange juice stain. “Could be worse.” 

He makes a face. “Yikes.” 

“It’s fine,” you say breezily. “What can I get you?” 

You look to James, because really he’s the only one you ever need to ask. The other two are fairly consistent, but James seems inclined to try something new every time he comes in. 

He doesn’t disappoint now, locking eyes with you seriously over the top of his menu. “How is your butterfly lemonade? No—actually, what is your butterfly lemonade?”

“It’s…” You bite your lip, thinking. Sirius snickers, and when you look he seems to be sharing in some joke with Remus’, whose cheeks have gone a tad pink. “I’m not sure, honestly, but it’s sweet. I think you’d like it.” 

“That, then.” James slaps down his menu decisively. 

“Right.” You write it down. “And then, a caramel latte and a tea?” You look to Sirius and Remus for confirmation. 

The former shoots you a grin you take as a yes, while the latter nods and says quietly, “Thank you.” 

“No problem.” You soften your smile for Remus. You adore all of these boys, but you have a bit of a tender spot for him. Remus is by far the quietest of his friends, though really just as friendly when he does talk. It’s terribly endearing. 

You click your pen again. “Okay, back soon!” 

The boys’ table remains a bright spot in your morning for as long as they’re there. Their antics you’re rather used to—the flirting, and the pranks, and the teasing way both James and Sirius poke at Remus while his blush worsens and worsens—but it surprises a laugh out of you when you joke that you’ll have to spit in Remus’ food if he orders the brioche (which infamously holds up the kitchen every time) and Sirius snorts doubt he’d mind before yelping and jumping in his seat. By the time you’re bringing them their ticket, the cafe has reached its late morning lull and your day is remarkably brighter than it started off. 

You seem to be interrupting some sort of debate when you approach their table, Remus leaning forward to whisper across the booth before he catches sight of you and sits back. The tops of his cheekbones are tinged pink. Sirius, on the other hand, is grinning wickedly, whereas James looks mostly exasperated. 

“Thank you,” James says kindly, taking the ticket from you. Remus starts rifling through his pockets for cash, but Sirius only looks at you as though sizing you up. 

“Y/n,” he starts to say, ignoring how Remus’ eyes narrow in his direction, “are you seeing anyone at the moment?” 

You feel your eyebrows lift. “Not currently, no.” 

“But why not?” He affects a look of puzzled contemplation, propping his chin on his hand. “You’re a pretty girl. Are you not looking to date?” 

You shrug, fighting the urge to cross your arms defensively. It’s not that you’ve never gotten these sorts of personal questions from customers before, but you weren’t expecting them from this table; you thought you knew better than to take Sirius’ flirting seriously. “Nothing has come up lately, I guess.” 

“Do you fancy men?”

“Sirius,” Remus hisses. “Leave her alone.” 

“What?” Sirius spreads his hands, guileless. “None of us would care if you didn’t, lovely—well, some might care, but no one would hold it against you—” He yelps for the second time today, this time shooting a glare at his friend across the booth. “Anyway, you don’t have to say if you aren’t comfortable.” 

You’re laughing a bit now, half nervously. “No, that’s okay. I do, yeah.” 

“Interesting.” James sets down the ticket. It seems you have his full attention now. “And what do you think of our Remus?” 

Remus makes a horrified sputtering sound, and you turn to find him looking at James in betrayal. He’s pink to the tips of his ears. 

You can’t help a small smile as you catch on. “I think he seems very sweet.” 

“Mm, well spotted.” James nods, tenting his hands like a man at a business meeting. 

“Yes, very good taste,” Sirius agrees. 

“He’s a dateable bloke, no?” James asks you. He jolts in his seat a little, but doesn’t yelp like Sirius had. Remus appears caught between wanting to hide his face in his hands and wanting to burn his friends to cinders with his gaze. He’ll be lucky, you think amusedly, if he doesn’t burn himself up first. The hue of his blush is only getting deeper. 

“He is,” you agree. You look at Remus again. This time, he meets your eyes, his look softening. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says miserably. 

Your grin spreads. “No, don’t be.” 

“So would you like to date him?” James furthers. 

Remus does put his head in his hands now, letting out a muffled groan. “James.” 

“What? Clearly you aren’t going to do it yourself, and I am sick of trying to eat my breakfast whilst you moon over—” He jumps in his seat again, and goes quiet, reaching down to rub at his leg. You tuck your lips in to hide a smile. 

“I’m just going to take this,” you say, reaching for the customer copy of their receipt. You bend over, scrawling your number down on the signature line. “And if anyone has more questions for me later, they can give me a ring. Okay?” 

You look at Remus. He looks nauseous and stop-sign red, but he manages to give you a small smile. “Alright,” he says, tentatively.

“Perfect. Bye, boys.” You shoot them a wave as you go to your next table. You hope Remus sees how your smile is really only for him.

[bbokicidal]

skz + sharing

you know what i'm talkin' about. [re-upload from @chvnlix!]

MDNI (18+) - Sexual Content, Pure Smut, literally no fluff. Just sex.

genre: smut pairing: ot8 [duos] x reader warnings: sharing is caring <3

I have to thank one of my LOVELY anons who reblogged a LOT of my work - thank you, angel!! you're doing us all a great service by gathering these so I can repost them for others to see once more <333 hahaha

chris will share you with any of the boys - after a certain point in your relationship. it starts because of the younger aussie ogling you when you come to visit them during dance practice - and later that night chris found him outside his bedroom mid-fuck, pulling open the door to drag the other man inside and gesture to your bare body on his bed. you're panting, chest heaving and eyes lidded as you stare over at felix. he's choked up with pink cheeks, but only ten minutes later he's throat deep eating your pussy until you're gasping and choking on your tears. chris, ultimately after that, is more than happy to watch and help the others please you the same way he does. felix is more often than not the one popping around when he hears you two fucking, though. (and minho. minho comes along a lot, too.)

minho will share you with hyunjin. the two share the same lookdown on you sexually. you're smaller than them in every way, so they're both more than happy to pin you against the sheets and fuck into you until you're braindead and your eyes are rolling back into your skull. though minho isn't one to just sit back - he needs to be involved, either fucking your face while hyune takes your pussy or sucking marks over your tits while hyune eats you out with your thighs squeezing around his head. and they're absolutely going to take turns flipping you around and holding you down by your throat as they use you like you're nothing but a free use slut.

changbin will share you with jeongin. it's something about watching the youngest of the group fuck a woman who's older - and hearing him call you noona is just too cute. he's more the type to watch while it happens, absolutely in awe at the way you take charge with jeongin but not with him. you'll ride the maknae until he's damn near in tears, the mattress caving each time and bouncing and squeaking under your movements - or you'll sit on jeongin's face and rock your hips back and forth until he's sputtering and drooling and clawing at your thighs for air, which you absolutely won't give him until his ears are pink.

hyunjin will share you with changbin. hyune takes pride in his arms, in his strength and being able to hold you up while he fucks into you - but watching changbin do it is something else. it makes a rouse of jealousy stir in his chest the first time he invites the older man to fuck with you two, but the jealousy just fuels his lust and he ends up being more rough than ever. changbin is happy to kiss over your body and up your throat while hyunjin holds you by the wrists, pounding into you from behind and keeping you sat up on your knees as you whine. only when you're really putty in their hands is when he'll hand you over, knowing he did that to you - put you in that state - before letting changbin pick you up and press your back to the wall to fuck up into you.

jisung will share you with felix. the sunshine twins take pride in being able to take care of you together, and felix loves it so much when jisung hints at letting him in the bedroom with you. he'll sit back at first and let felix worship over your body until you're squirming and begging for one of their cocks - or both - before moving to your side to whisper sweet nothings and join in on the worshipping. jisung'll get more mushy than ever, fucking into you so sweetly and letting felix use your mouth or your hands or whatever he wants, before letting him have his own turn. one at a time, just to be gentle with you. and they'll both cover you in cum and grin when you're giggling, claiming you're not done and want to keep going. (though they're soft now, that doesn't mean there isn't times they'll invite you to the studio during late hours and fuck you on the couch or up against the desk.)

felix will share you with minho. he's more than happy to start things off and get your clothes on the floor before getting to the good stuff - and minho is too impatient to sit back and just watch the entire thing. he'll let you know he wants you by pressing his cock straining in his jeans right up against your hip, caging you between himself and felix while sucking marks all over your skin. he's the type to leave his presence on you - and felix doesn't seem to mind it at all. they'll fuck into you at the same time, either spitroasting or dp if you're down for it - and though felix would be alright with being done whenever, minho is the type to force multiple orgasms from you until he's satisfied. it leads to long, long nights.

seungmin will share you with jisung. it's a different dynamic, the two. seungmin is happy to shove you around and onto the bed, watching you trip over yourself and let him pull your shorts right off you to land a few hard smacks against your ass. he likes to watch you squirm - and so does jisung, of course. but he'll knead at the handprints seungmin left on you and caress over them to soothe the sting. the dynamic is also different in the sense that jisung is a needy lover. he'll rut into you like a rabbit wanting to breed, barely even pulling out before hitting your cervix with the tip of his cock. he refuses to be so far from you, too impatient and wanting to pull out all the way and leaving you moaning loud; choking and gasping and bouncing back and forth against the mattress beneath you. and when seungmin finally gets his turn it'll be the complete opposite - smooth and long strokes that make you whining for him to go just a little faster - which he of course won't listen to.

jeongin will share you with seungmin. mean, mean, mean. rough dominant men that press the side of your face into the wall, holding you by the back of your neck and slapping your ass so hard that your cheeks are pink and burning by the time they're done. the types to chuckle about it all and barely say anything to you the entire time they fuck you, using your throat until it's raw and you're drooling, tears streaking down your cheeks and jaw sore from being slack. jeongin will let seungmin do whatever he wants - use you however he wants, whatever hole, however fast. and he's the type to keep you busy and occupied even when seungmin is fucking into you, one leg thrown over his shoulder while jeongin keeps his index and middle fingers pushing down on your tongue as you stare up at him with tears in your eyes. he'll coo and watch spit pool, sliding down your cheeks while you gag and whine.

-

© chvnmax [re-uploaded by @ bbokicidal ]

[harrysfolklore]

31st - hs

happy birthday to the one and only love of my life 🥹🥹 31 omg! i hope he has the best day ever <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You woke up early on February 1st, carefully slipping out of bed without disturbing Harry, who was still peacefully sleeping. The morning sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains, reflecting light across his face. At 31, he was somehow even more beautiful than when you'd first met him - a few more laugh lines around his eyes, his curls slightly shorter now, but still undeniably your Harry.

Making your way to the kitchen, you began the birthday breakfast preparations you'd been planning for days. You started brewing his favorite coffee and pulled out the ingredients for the banana pancakes he loved so much.

As you worked, you couldn't help but smile, remembering his 30th birthday last year - the big party, all their friends and family gathered together. This year, though, Harry had asked for something quieter, more intimate. "Just us," he'd said, "maybe dinner with family later."

The sound of footsteps made you look up, and there he was, leaning against the doorframe in his pajama bottoms and that old Rolling Stones t-shirt you loved so much.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," you scolded playfully, whisking the pancake batter.

"Bed was cold without you," he mumbled, voice still rough with sleep. His hair was adorably mussed, and he had pillow creases on his cheek. "Besides, something smells amazing."

"Happy birthday, love," you said softly, abandoning your cooking to wrap your arms around him.

He hummed contentedly, pulling you closer and burying his face in your neck. "Thank you, baby."

"Thirty-one," you mused, running your fingers through his hair. "How does it feel?"

"Honestly?" He pulled back to look at you, his green eyes twinkling. "Pretty much the same as thirty. Though I did find another grey hair yesterday."

You laughed, reaching up to touch the single silver strand at his temple. "I think it makes you look distinguished."

"Distinguished?" He raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"Mhmm," you nodded seriously. "Very sophisticated. Very George Clooney."

"Oi!" He tickled your sides, making you squeal. "I'm not that old yet!"

The pancakes were momentarily forgotten as you both dissolved into laughter, play-fighting in the kitchen like teenagers. Finally, Harry pulled you close again, pressing soft kisses along your jaw.

"You know," he murmured, "this is already my favorite birthday."

"It's barely started!"

"Doesn't matter. I'm here with you, in our kitchen, and you're making me breakfast. What could be better?"

Your heart swelled with love for this man who could find joy in the simplest moments. "Well, it might get even better when you see your presents."

His eyes lit up like a child's. "Presents? But you said we weren't doing big gifts this year!"

"And we're not," you assured him, turning back to the pancakes before they burned. "Just a few small things. Though..." you paused for dramatic effect, "there might be tickets to that vintage guitar show in Nashville you were talking about."

Harry's gasp of delight made you laugh. "Really? The one with the '59 Les Paul?"

"Maybe," you sang, flipping a pancake. "You'll have to wait and see."

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, watching you cook. "Have I told you lately that you're the best wife ever?"

You felt your cheeks flush at the word 'wife,' still not quite used to hearing it spoken aloud. After nearly a year of marriage, it was still your precious secret, shared only with family and closest friends. The ring on your finger was usually hidden away in public, and you'd both become experts at careful wording in interviews.

"Shh," you teased, though your heart fluttered at his words. "The walls might have ears."

Harry chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You know, I've been thinking about that actually."

"About what?" you asked, sliding the last pancake onto the plate.

He turned you around gently, his expression thoughtful. "About keeping it secret. Don't get me wrong, this past year has been incredible, having something that's just ours. But sometimes..." he paused, running a hand through his hair, "sometimes I just want to tell the whole world that I'm married to the most amazing woman."

You set down the spatula, studying his face. "Really? You want to go public?"

"Only if you're ready," he said quickly. "But yeah, I do. It's been almost a year, and honestly, I'm tired of not being able to call you my wife whenever I want to. Of having to take my ring off for appearances. Of watching you do the same."

Your heart raced at the possibility. "It would change things," you said softly. "The privacy we've had..."

"I know," he nodded, taking your hands in his. "But maybe... maybe it's time. And what better day than my birthday? We could post something simple, just us."

You thought about it for a moment. The past year had been magical, your private bubble of newlywed bliss protected from the public eye. But he was right - there was something exhausting about constantly hiding, about choosing your words so carefully, about slipping your rings off before stepping outside.

"Okay," you finally said, a smile spreading across your face. "Let's do it."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug. "But after breakfast! These pancakes are getting cold."

Later, after breakfast and presents, you both sat on the couch, phones in hand. You'd chosen a simple photo from your wedding day - just your hands intertwined, both wearing your rings, nothing too revealing but unmistakably a wedding photo.

"Ready?" he asked, his thumb hovering over the 'post' button.

You took a deep breath, nodding. "Ready."

With a click, your secret was out in the world. You both turned your phones to silent, knowing they would explode with notifications any second.

"How does it feel?" Harry asked, pulling you close.

You twisted your ring, which for the first time wouldn't have to come off when you left the house later. "Liberating," you decided. "Scary, but good scary."

"No more hiding," he agreed, kissing your temple.

"No more hiding," you repeated, then laughed. "Your mum's going to be thrilled. She's been dying to post those wedding photos."

"Oh God," Harry groaned good-naturedly. "She's probably already sharing them as we speak."

You snuggled closer to him, enjoying this quiet moment before the world would inevitably explode with the news. "Happy birthday, H. Sorry I kind of hijacked it with our announcement."

"Are you kidding?" He grinned down at you. "This is the best gift you could have given me. Now everyone knows I'm the luckiest man alive."

"Charmer," you muttered, but you were smiling.

"Your charmer," he corrected, then added with obvious delight, "Your husband."

"My husband," you agreed, loving how it felt to say it out loud, knowing you wouldn't have to whisper it anymore.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by zayn, yourinstagram and 20,876,449 others

harrystyles Best birthday gift was marrying my soulmate almost a year ago. Thank you for keeping our secret. ❤️

February, 2024

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username1 WHAT THE HELL

username2 IS THIS A JOKE

taylorswift Finally!! 🥂 Keeping this secret was TORTURE. So happy for you both ♥️

gemmastyles Bbout time you two told everyone!! now i can finally post all the cute photos from the wedding 😭💕

lizzo YALL I WAS AT THE WEDDING AND HAD TO PRETEND I WASNT THIS WHOLE TIME 😭 CONGRATS AGAIN BESTIES

niallhoran The most beautiful day! Love you both!

yourinstagram Finally 🤍 Happy birthday to my husband (!!!) who makes every day feel like a love song. Thank you for choosing me, always.

username3 HUSBAND???????? MARRIED????????? IM SHAKING AND CRYING AND THROWING UP

username4 OH MY GOD THE SIGNS WERE THERE ALL ALONG. REMEMBER WHEN HE KEPT TOUCHING HIS RING FINGER IN THAT ONE INTERVIEW??

username5 not me zooming in on every detail of this photo 👀 THE RINGS ARE SO BEAUTIFUL IM SOBBING

username6 the way they kept this secret for a YEAR?? we love a private couple

username7 HARRY STYLES IS A MARRIED MAN. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. HARRY STYLES IS A MARRIED MAN

username8 im so happy for them but also crying in the club rn 😭

username9 THE WAY YN JUST CALLED HIM HUSBAND IM SCREAMING

username10 not me thinking about how they had a whole secret wedding and we had no idea 😭 they're so powerful

username11 "best birthday gift" STOP IM CRYING THIS IS SO ROMANTIC

[hearts4mica]

Tell me what to do. To make it all feel better.

What if. The Batboys find out you’ve been messing up your recipes on purpose?

Part 1 here

———————————————————————————

It was another day of baking. This time you wanted to bake something for Alfred since he was the one who taught you how to bake in the first place.

You decided to bake a vanilla cake! Alfred’s favorite of course.

So you obviously went shopping and had to sneak out since Bruce didn’t want you going out by yourself since ‘Gotham is too dangerous’ maybe it is but you’re just going to the supermarket

You bought your ingredients and decided to start baking without your brothers finding out of course you can’t let them know that you can actually bake.

After a while you finished the cake. Its pretty surprising that no one came into the kitchen! Well its pretty early on the weekend so they’re probably still sleeping.

Alfred came into the kitchen and you gave him the cake. He thanked you and grabed a piece.

But

Just at that time Damian walked into the kitchen. Just perfect.

You both just stared at eachother. While you still had your dirty apron on.

“Good morning [name] i see you baked a cake for Alfred… it smells good?” Damian said

“What does that mean Damian! Does that mean you dont like my cooking?!” You said in a dramatic way trying to get him to leave the kitchen but it obviously backfired. “I didn’t bake thi-”

And at that moment Alfred decided to betray you!

“Young Miss [name] baked me a cake Master Damian would you like to try it“ Alfred said with a smug smile he wanted for you to stop poisoning your sibling with burnt cookies.

“[name] baked it? Didn’t you said you didn’t bake it dearest sister?” Damian walks up to the cake grabs a fork and takes a small bite.

“shit…”

“Are you sure [name] baked it?” (That little shit of course you did but he can’t know that!)

“N-” “Yes” Alfred cuts you off once again.

“Oh everyone would love to hear this” he says as he leaves the room.

———————————————————————————

At dinner everyone is sitting silently esting until Damian decides to break the silence.

“Did you know that our dearest sister here [name] actually knows how to bake? In fact she baked a cake for Alfred today and it tasted great” damian said with an evilish grin.

“SHE WHAT?!”

That little snitch.

“Baby bird why would you do that?!” Dick says

Its not going to be a short dinner.

———————————————————————————

At the end of the day Bruce lectured you about it and grounded you now you have to bake something for your “brothers” atleast twice a week! And it can’t be burnt anymore what’s the fun in that?

———————————————————————————

How would they react?

Dick would be pretty upset about this i mean who wouldnt his ‘baby’ sister made her cookies bad on purpose! Were you mad at them for something? You and him are going to have a long boring fun talk

Jason would be pretty surprised that you actually were smart enough to think about this since he still sees you the way you were before his dead

Tim i feel like he already knew that since he spends so much time spying you- he actually didn’t mind the taste it kept his brain busy?

Damian was really upset his older sister gave him burnt cookies! I mean i get it with Drake, but with him your favorite brother?!

[gloomwitchwrites]

How about some silliness.....reader/you is superrr drunk from a night out with friends or high from anesthesia and the guys are trying to take care of them and we are all like "get your hands off me or my husband will kick you ass!" Or "omg you're so hot are you single??"...and they are just dying laughing like "I am your husband!"

I just watched one too many tik toks of this 😂🤣

Oh, I love this. I don't think I've actually seen these videos before (at least on TT) but I do know what you're talking about. Maybe I've seen it more in other media? Like movies and television? Anyway, I understand what you're asking for, so I hope you enjoy what I've cooked up!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, established relationship, fluff, mild alcohol use, shenanigans due to drunkenness & anesthesia

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John stands beside you on the passenger side of the car. The car door is open, and all you need to do is slide inside. Instead, you’re arguing with him, insisting that you can get in yourself, and that you don’t need help.

“You just had surgery,” chides John.

“Minor surgery,” you correct.

“It’s still surgery.” John sighs, and then places his hand on your back. “Let me help you.”

“Hands off, sir. You’re not my husband.”

John does not move his hand. “I don’t remember us getting a divorce, love.”

You wave him off and John snorts. “He’ll kick your ass,” you insist. “Punch you right in the nose.”

John’s stern demeanor cracks, dissolving into a wide smile and a soft chuckle. He shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m your bloody husband. You’re stuck with me. Forever.”

“I’m serious,” you say. Turning, you attempt to jab him in the chest with your finger. Everything tilts, and you only hit air.

John sighs, exasperated. “Get in the car, love.”

“No,” you groan, pushing at his chest. You surrender to him, allowing John to help you into the front passenger seat.

“I hope you remember this after the drugs wear off.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

You’ve been out with your friends all evening, and you have no idea what times it is. It’s dark, and you didn’t leave until the bar closed, forcing you to make an exit. Someone called for a car, and you all piled in, dropping each of off one by one.

As you enter the dark bedroom, you kick off your shoes, slightly stumbling to turn on the bedside light. You turn it on, and immediately wince. Vision swimming, you rub at your eyes, and then notice the massive lump in your bed.

“Turn off the bloody light, will you?” mumbles Johnny.

A devious plan forms in your head.

You climb onto the bed, crawling toward him. Noticing, Johnny turns toward you, eyes dreary with sleep.

“What?” he asks just before you flop your entire body onto him.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi,” he deadpans.

You wiggle over him, pressing the tip of your nose against his. “You seeing anyone, handsome?”

Johnny arches an eyebrow. “Did you hit your head or something? I am your husband.”

“Lucky me.”

Johnny blows raspberries. With one good shove, he flips you onto your back on your side of the bed.

“Go to bed. You’re drunk.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Your liquor-addled brain tells you to do it.

Across the bar is danger, the kind you want to play with—to sink your teeth into. Why resist temptation when it’s clear that the masked man across the bar can’t seem to take his eyes off you? Every time you glance in his direction, his gaze is focused and intense, daring you to approach him.

Which is exactly what you do.

He follows your every step, even if there is a slight sway in the way you walk. As you approach, he leans back in his chair, legs widening as if in welcome. It’s easy to reach out, to place your hand on his shoulder, to straddle his thighs, and stare into his eyes.

“You’ve been staring at me all night,” you slur. “Plan on going home with anyone?”

“I am,” the masked man replies.

“And who might that be?”

“My wife.”

You turn in his lap, looking around at all the other patrons in the bar. “Don’t see her.”

“Course you don’t,” he chuckles. “Because she’s sitting in my lap.”

You blink. “Is she?”

“You’re my wife,” he whispers.

“I am…aren’t I?”

He shakes his head. “I’m cutting you off.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

The alcohol is an enabler. You shouldn’t have had as many drinks as you did, but this is a party, and you’re not the one driving.

Why not have a bit of fun?

“Hi.”

Kyle arches an eyebrow. “Hi,” he replies, drawing out the greeting in slight confusion.

You cozy up next to him, shoulder brushing against shoulder.

“So,” you begin, head tilting toward him like you’re about to whisper all your secrets. “I’m going to be a bit bold…”

“Go on.”

“But I think you’re cute. Wanted to know if you’re seeing anyone.”

Kyle’s single raised eyebrow becomes two. There’s a long pause, so long that you notice the absence of conversation.

Kyle’s confusion cracks, becoming a wide smile, followed by his adorable, familiar laughter. “You’re taking the piss, love.”

“I’m not joking.”

He laughs harder, clutching his chest like he can’t breathe.

“I’m your husband,” he manages to say between wheezing breaths.

“I know,” you reply. “Just checking to make sure you’re still loyal.”

He waves his hand in the air before him. “You’ve had enough. Give me that.” He plucks your beverage right out of your hands.

“Excuse me,” you protest, but Kyle is already downing it.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@fern-reads @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @glassgulls @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @z-wantstowrite @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[crowofmidnightsworld]

In your dreams | Caleb

Caleb x female reader Type: Smut, almost no plot Synopsis: You and Caleb had fallen asleep in your bed, watching movies. In the middle of the night you wake up by something, or rather someone, rubbing against you. Warnings: MDNI, needy/desperate m, cursing, possessive m, finishing inside, love confession

Word Count: 2.4k

He couldn't take it anymore. It had started off so innocently. You and Caleb decided to spend the night in, watching movies, since it had been raining all day and there had been nothing else to do.

It had been a fun night, especially because you had recently started to trust Caleb more again. You're slowly letting him back in, but sometimes it truly felt like you couldn't live with or without him. He made your mind go crazy, because he wasn't your brother anymore and you were starting to doubt if he ever really was, confused about your feelings for him.

And now you're lying in front of him. His arms wrapped around your middle and you had felt so safe, that you dozed off. Unlike Caleb. He has been awake the entire time and relished the feeling of you lying in his arms. Pressed against him as tight as humanly possible and his mind couldn't stop going into overdrive. He had realised years ago that he had never seen you as his sister. At first it had scared him, because the thoughts he had had about you were something no brother would ever dare to think of his sister.

When those thoughts first entered his mind, he tried to distance himself from you but as soon as he noticed how much that had hurt you, he stopped, even if it had been torture for himself. Over time he started to justify his thoughts. His cravings. And he realised that he hadn't seen you as his sister, even when he was a young boy. You were like sunlight that had to be protected, and that's what he did. Especially when he realised how many people wanted to hurt you. He was content with killing anyone who dared lay their hands on you or even look in your direction. You were his. His obsession. His sunlight.

For the hundredth time tonight the smell of your coconut shampoo enters Caleb's nose and he can't stop himself from burying his face in your hair again. He hates that he feels like this about you, his mind and his feelings contradicting in every possible way, but as long as you don't know about it, he's content with how things currently are. Until you start talking and moving in your sleep.

At first a chuckle bubbled out of Caleb, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake you up, but your words start to become more clear. An incoherent string of words like "Yes", "Right there" and even quiet moans coming out of your mouth fill the room, and Caleb immediately goes rigid. He can't believe what he's hearing right now, not sure how to deal with this situation, but then you push your hips against his. And you say his name. His name.

Every colour in Caleb's face drains, his mind going a thousand miles an hour, when he notices that familiar feeling of his pants tightening around him. Fuck. His first thought is to pull away from you a little bit, but the second he moves even an inch away from you, he hears you whining in protest and he immediately stops. Caleb's heart is about to burst out of his chest, because that's what he had been imaginging almost every night. Every night he was alone at Skyhaven with his cock fucking into his fist, or even back when he was training to become a pilot.

Only a few seconds later he realises that he has starting grinding his hardness against you, needing to feel that friction. Needing to feel you. Does he feel bad about it? Yes. But you're making all these pretty sounds and you're saying his name, so he tries to justify his actions with that. He nuzzles his face into your shoulder, slowly moving one of his hands under your shirt. The need to feel your skin, to feel you overpowering his rational thoughts.

And that's when you start to wake up. At first you think you're still dreaming and you feel this pang of guilt. You always felt it when you had these dreams about Caleb, but they just wouldn't stop. Too afraid to deal with those feelings, you never really tried to think about what you truly felt for him. And you are so scared of losing Caleb, if he ever found out about this.

The grogginess of sleep slowly lifts from your brain and that's when you feel it. Strangely the feeling of someone grinding against you, touching you, doesn't leave and you're completely confused. Until you hear the shaky breaths of Caleb so close to your ear. Your face instantly feels like it's on fire, considering how good his movements make you feel. And you hate yourself for a second for wanting him to keep touching you. Feeling the need to let him know that you're awake, that you know what he's doing, you finally speak up. "Caleb?".

Caleb hears you but he's already too far gone. His grip on your stomach only tightens and his mind is at war. He should stop, he knows that, but then again, he has been waiting for this for so long. "Please...Please...Just this once, Pipsqueak". The sound of his whiny voice, begging you to let him continue, almost makes you dizzy and now your entire body feels like it's on fire. Caleb is still grinding against you and from that alone you just know he's packing. He just makes you feel good and you honestly don't want him to stop. That's why you gently grab his hand that has been under your shirt for a while now and you guide it up to your chest. That's your answer.

As soon as Caleb realises that you're allowing him to keep going, that you actually want this, he feels like his brain is about to explode. The soft and warm skin under his hand feels so right and he immediately notices the hard nipple, brushing against it. "Fuck, you really want this, huh?". Now his lips are brushing over your shoulder and the slight growl in his voice makes something deep inside you tighten. If he only knew for how long you've been cravingthis.

Caleb's lips feel so soft on your shoulder and you move your head a bit to the side, just to give him more room to play with, which he immediateyl takes advantage of. His lips trail over your shoulder to your neck and he gently starts to suck on that sweet spot, drawing more of those sweet sounds out of you. The sound of rain pattering against your bedroom window disappears, drowned out by your quiet gasps and by Caleb's erratic breathing.

Everything about this situation is overwhelming you, but you need even more. You need to feel him. That's why you grab his hand again, with which he's currently gently flicking his fingers against your hard nipple. "Don't make me stop... I can't...". He sounds even more desperate than before, biting into your shoulder to make you stop, as his hips start to grind against you even harder, but you have other plans. "I won't. I just need you to...". Not being able to finish your sentence, a small part of you still feeling like what you're doing with Caleb is wrong, you wordlessly guide Caleb's hand down to the hem of your shorts.

For a second Caleb stops everything. With a tight grip on the hem of your shorts, he's now just breathing against your neck and you can feel his heart hammering against your back. He won't stop. He knows that, but he also knows that once you two cross that line, it'll never be as it was. Your heart also feels like it's about to jump out of your chest, the mixture of anticipation and need making your own breath speed up. And that's when Caleb slowly pulls down your shorts. His fingers are grabbing your shorts and panties at the same time and suddenly you find yourself lying in your bed with Caleb behind you, completely bare. Never in a million years did you think inviting Caleb to a movie night would end up like this, but you're so glad that you did it.

Moving his hand away from you, you can hear Caleb pulling down his own pants and before you can even feel his cock anywhere near you, that intense feeling in your middle grows stronger. Before you can think about what you two are about to do, Caleb pushes his hard cock in between your thighs and he can only growl, when he feels how wet you are. How your slickness is already covering him and his hand quickly moves to your hip, holding on tight. "Tell me, Pipsqueak. What were you dreaming of?". That question alone makes your face heat up again, but at the same time only whiny sounds leave your lips. He feels so good against you, rubbing his tip against your pussy at such a fast pace, hitting your clit with it every time. How could you tell him that you had been dreaming of that one night a few years ago, when you two kissed. That you wished he would've done more that night?

"How long have you been dreaming of me like that? For how long have you wanted to be mine?". He just won't stop. Caleb had always loved teasing you but now is not the time for this. All you want is for him to take you. To finally still that hunger you've felt for him for years now. You simply start to grind against his hard cock, willing him to accidentally slip inside, but Caleb's hold on your hip just tightens. Holding you in place. Another whine escapes your lips, but Caleb doesn't chuckle. He is just as much of a needy mess as you are right now, but that doesn't stop him from teasing you. His breath feels hot against your ear, making a shiver go down your spine and it's the most infuriating yet delicious feeling you've ever felt.

"Because I've been wanting to do this for years.". Without any other warning, Caleb finally pushes the tip of his cock into you, not entering you completely yet. A loud groan rumbles through Caleb's chest and all you can do is throw your head back a little bit, moaning. He only has his tip in you and yet you already know that he's big. Just like you knew he would be from the beginning. After a few seconds of letting you adjust, Caleb continues pushing into you in the most agonizing, slow way, as his teeth sink into your shoulder again. Rolling back your eyes at that sensation, feeling Caleb inside you to the hilt, you take in a deep breath.

After a few seconds of letting you adjust and kissing your neck again, Caleb starts to move. His thrusts are slow at first and it feels so good. Way better than it has ever been in your dreams. "Imagine how many times I had to fuck myself in the past years because of you.". Caleb knows exactly what he's doing with his words and you know he's saying it now to get a reaction out of you. Despite not wanting to give in so easily, you start to clench around Caleb's cock, earning a haughty chuckle from him. He's filling you out completely, drawing more moans out of you but it's not enough for him. "You really had no idea how much I wanted to fuck you, make you mine, all these years...".

His thrusts become faster after this. In this moment Caleb can't be the sweet boy for you. He need you to know that you're his and only his. That you always have been his, even though you didn't know it. The sounds of your skin slapping against his, satisfy something primal in Caleb and he's just pistoning in and out of you. Your moaning and whining gets louder in response to that, since Caleb is also hitting that sweet spot over and over again. You definitely can't think straight anymore. All you know is that this is right. This is where you're supposed to be.

With how fast and rough Caleb is pounding you, you feel that familiar sensation of your impending orgasm, and from how Caleb is groaning and breathing against your ear, you know that he must be close too. "Caleb, please... Finish inside". For a second Caleb has to force himself to keep moving, even though his brain is short circuiting right now. He has been wanting to fill you up with his seed from the beginning, but he never would've thought that you'd allow it or even beg him to do this. Something snaps inside him and somehow he manages to pound into you even harder. His grip on your hip tightens even more, sure to leave marks on you, but you don't mind.

After a few more thrusts, you finally feel that tight knot deep inside you breaking, and you cum like you've never done before. Starting to see white spots in front of your eyes out of pure pleasure, you throw your head back even more, your eyes rolling back. Your entire body is shaking, as you scream out his name and your pussy starts to clench around Caleb's cock. And that's it for him. "Oh fuck, I love you.". Groaning out those words, Caleb spills his seed inside you and he repeats those three words over and over again. You can feel him twitching inside you, as he fills you up and you feel like you could come again, just because of his confession.

Ever so slowly Caleb's thrusts slow down until he isn't moving anymore, but he stays buried inside you. His sweat covered forehead rests against your shoulder and you're both trying to catch your breaths. You have never felt like this for someone before and you realise that you don't want to anyways. If you could you would stay here with Caleb forever. Never letting him go again. "Did you just say you love me?". Your question is exactly what Caleb expected but he doesn't mind. His breath is still heavy as he gently kisses your shoulder again. "Mhmm, I've loved you for years, Pipsqueak.".

[hanasnx]

Hop hop 🐇 hiya bugs :). Can I use my super special Donnie privilege and request 6'11 Jason Todd and biting, Like, just absolutely sinking his fucking teeth in, borderline primal, while that fat cock bullies your pussy. The bites could be anywhere, everywhere, but especially the neck cause he wants to suck on your pulse while his dick fucks an orgasm outta ya and makes ya go limp. Im 4"11 and the size difference makes me dizzy. Work your indy magic if ya wanna but you don't even have to take this if ya dont cause it's um... it's January. My bad for being indecisive tbh. Bye imyyy 👋 🐇 hop hop

MINORS DNI 18+

NOTES: DC is for December Event! | IMPORTANT: do not use my 6’11!jason au without my explicit permission.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you spit, determined to get 6’11!JASON TODD to hear you even while he fills the room with the sounds of skin smacking skin. His monstrous hips plow into you from the back so hard it stings against yours ass, rippling the globes while he’s pinning you to the mattress with his strength and weight. Futilely, you’re bearing that weight, holding yourself up with your claws in the sheets, arching your back to keep your head raised—anything to try and be taken seriously right now. Yet, you flinch with every violent sheath, getting speared on a length so insane it’s unfathomable for it to bottom out without an ache.

You squeeze your eyes shut, choked noises releasing from your throat in pained chuffs, unable to decipher whether you hate it or love it. Your cunt certainly does, sopping around his dick, getting cream all up in his pubes. He has yet to say anything to retort, his teeth having sunk into your neck and remained there. If you think anything is painful about the way he’s fucking you, it’s nothing compared to the concentrated pressure in the most vulnerable part of you. Your exposed jugular latched onto like he’s some animal, fangs sinking into your skin to pin you while he uses you. His massive body spans you nearly twice over, blanketing you in an escapable landscape, having plowed you into a prone bone position from doggy. When you try to turn your head, an attempt to get him to release you, a rough growl of frustration releases from his nose.

For one second, his jaw unlocks, and relief floods in, a breeze hitting that wet and fresh dental print. You can’t see them, but you can feel how deep the indents of his canines are. As quickly as it came, he bites back down for a better grip, and this time you cry out in a moan. The new angle hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars, while the sensation of the pain heightens the pleasure. You’re not talking shit anymore, instead your cunt is drooling around him while he’s got your life in his mouth.

[goldfades]

HOTTEST COUPLE IN THE ROOM ───JB⁹

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.5k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | requested! -> "Joe x Dallas cowboy cheerleader reader"

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | reader is kinda perceived as bitchy, and not a cookie-cutter dcc. lots of a banter, leads to relationship.

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | my new fav thing EVER

The bass shakes the floor beneath your heels, the scent of top-shelf liquor and expensive cologne thick in the air. The postgame party is exactly what you expected—too many people, too much noise, and a lingering sense of competition that doesn’t quite fade even after the game’s final whistle. Cowboys and Bengals players mix like oil and water, good-natured jabs tossed between sips of whiskey, the occasional laugh laced with something sharper.

You don’t want to be here.

But when the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders make an appearance, it’s not optional. It’s PR. It’s “team camaraderie.” It’s smiling through gritted teeth while some dude in a suit with more money than personality tells you how impressive it is that you can do a perfect high kick in full glam.

You adjust the hem of your dress, shifting against the leather couch tucked in the VIP section. It’s not that you’re bad at playing the part. You just don’t fit the mold the way you’re supposed to. The other girls—prim, polished, always camera-ready—glide through the room like they were born for this. You, on the other hand, are already toeing the line of “too much.” Too opinionated, too unpredictable, too unwilling to be anything other than exactly who you are.

And yet, you’re still here. Because when you dance, they shut up about the rest.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show,” a voice drawls beside you, cutting through the music.

Your gaze shifts, locking onto the last person you expected to seek you out tonight. Joe Burrow.

His suit jacket is slung over his arm, the sleeves of his crisp white button-down rolled up just enough to give him that effortlessly put-together look. He’s got that half-smirk that’s made him a social media obsession, and yet there’s something else in his expression—curiosity, maybe. Amusement.

You raise a brow. “Didn’t think you knew who I was.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” His eyes flicker, something sharp and knowing in them. “Hard to miss the cheerleader who doesn’t play by the rules.”

You tilt your head, feigning offense. “I play by the rules.”

Joe huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Nah. You don’t. You just make it look like you do.”

And there it is. The first crack in the game, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a drawn line in the sand.

It should be nothing.

But somehow, it doesn’t feel like nothing.

You lean back against the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other toying with the rim of the drink you don’t actually want. The ice clinks softly as you swirl it, eyes flicking back to Joe, unimpressed but not entirely disinterested.

“Wow,” you deadpan. “Joe Burrow knows my reputation. I guess I can retire now.”

Joe huffs a quiet laugh, the kind that barely shakes his shoulders. “Just saying, you don’t blend in.”

You lift a brow. “Neither do you.”

His smirk deepens, just a little. “Difference is, I’m supposed to stand out.”

You roll your eyes. “God, you’re worse than I thought.”

Joe blinks, feigning offense. “Worse?”

“Yeah.” You tilt your head, taking him in. “I figured you’d at least let me get a word in before pulling the ‘I’m Joe Burrow’ card.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

The smirk on his face falters just a fraction, like he’s recalculating his approach. He came over here thinking he’d charm you with minimal effort, just like he probably does with every other girl in this room. You can’t blame him. You’re used to guys like him—ones who assume that a few smooth lines and a good jawline will be enough to win you over. It’s exhausting, really.

Joe, to his credit, seems to pick up on it quickly. He shifts his stance, dropping the easy arrogance just a notch, watching you like he’s trying to figure out a new play mid-game.

“So, you don’t like football players,” he guesses.

“I never said that.”

“You don’t seem impressed.”

“I’m just not easily impressed.”

Joe clicks his tongue, shaking his head like he’s been personally challenged. “Tough crowd.”

You let out a short laugh, finally taking a sip of your drink. The warmth spreads through you, smoothing the edges of your already sharp tongue. “Look, I get it. You’re Joe Cool, media darling, golden boy, future Hall of Famer, blah, blah, blah. But none of that tells me who you actually are.”

Joe’s quiet for a beat, like he wasn’t expecting you to cut through the bullshit so quickly. Most people don’t.

He studies you. “You wanna know who I am?”

“I wanna know if you can hold a conversation that doesn’t involve your highlight reel.”

Joe grins, shaking his head like you’re more trouble than he bargained for—but not the kind he wants to walk away from.

“Alright,” he says, leaning in slightly. “Let’s make it fair. Since you’re so uninterested in my career, how about I ask about yours?”

You narrow your eyes. “Go for it.”

He tilts his head. “You always wanted to be a cheerleader?”

You pause for a fraction of a second. It’s not a bad question, but it’s not the usual small talk either. It’s got an edge to it, like he’s actually curious.

“No,” you admit. “I wanted to be an astronaut.”

Joe snorts. “Serious?”

“As a heart attack.” You smirk. “But apparently, NASA frowns upon people who talk back to their instructors.”

Joe laughs now, really laughs, and it does something to his face—makes it lighter, less perfectly put-together. It’s a nice look on him.

“So, you settled for the next most intense program?” he asks.

“Something like that.” You glance around the room, at the Cowboys players, the other cheerleaders, the high-profile guests all schmoozing and clinking glasses. “DCC is its own version of NASA. Just with more hairspray and stricter calorie counts.”

Joe hums, considering that. “And yet, you don’t seem the type to take orders.”

You shrug. “I don’t. But I’m really, really good at what I do.”

His gaze lingers for half a second too long. “Yeah,” he says, low and thoughtful. “I bet you are.”

There’s something about the way he says it that makes your breath catch for just a second—not because you’re flustered, but because it feels like he actually sees you, past the sequins and forced smiles and PR obligations.

You tap your nails against your glass, breaking whatever was starting to settle between you. “Well, congrats,” you say, all light and teasing again. “You managed to hold a conversation without bringing up your own stats.”

Joe grins, lazy and triumphant. “And?”

You take a slow sip, watching him over the rim of your glass. “You’re not completely insufferable.”

Joe laughs, leaning back into the couch. “I’ll take it.”

The first date wasn’t supposed to happen.

At least, not in your mind.

But Joe had this way of slipping through the cracks of your carefully built walls, catching you off guard in a way that wasn’t annoying, but intriguing. So, when he had looked at you across that crowded party and said, “One drink. No football talk,” you had rolled your eyes, but ultimately, you had agreed.

One drink turned into three. A post-midnight drive through downtown. A completely ridiculous bet over who could name more obscure 90s songs (you won, obviously). And then, somehow, a second date.

And that was the real surprise.

Because by then, you figured you had him pegged. Star quarterback, smooth operator, probably used to women falling over themselves to impress him. But the Joe you saw away from the cameras, when it was just the two of you in a dimly lit hole-in-the-wall bar or sprawled out on his couch, eating takeout straight from the boxes, was different. He was easy in a way that felt familiar, like a song you hadn’t heard in years but still knew all the words to.

And he got you.

Most guys would tense up when you made some sarcastic comment, unsure if they should be amused or offended. Joe just smirked and shot one right back, quick and sharp like one of his passes. The banter was effortless, the chemistry undeniable, but it never felt forced.

It felt like you’d known him forever.

Which was dangerous.

Because you weren’t supposed to like him this much.

But a few months flew by before you could think too hard about it.

One minute, you were rolling your eyes at him in a Dallas bar. The next, you were sneaking glances at your phone in the middle of DCC rehearsals, trying not to smile at whatever nonsense he had just texted you.

Then came the flights.

You found yourself booking tickets to Cincinnati more often than you’d ever expected, trading in your Texas sunsets for the sharp chill of Ohio air, showing up in his city like you belonged there. And the crazy part? It never felt inconvenient. You had never been the type to rearrange your schedule for a guy, but with Joe, it was different. He made the effort too—catching flights to see you between games, showing up unannounced just to grab dinner, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It should’ve been overwhelming, but it wasn’t.

Because nothing about Joe was ever boring.

You’d expected the excitement in the beginning—the flirty back-and-forth, the teasing, the lingering looks that stretched longer than they should. But what you hadn’t expected was the way he made everything feel lighter. How he made you laugh when you were dead on your feet after an exhausting game day. How he somehow always knew when you needed to talk and when you just needed to sit in comfortable silence.

And yeah, the tension was there. Always.

You weren’t blind, and Joe sure as hell wasn’t either. There were moments—when his hand lingered on your lower back a second too long, when you caught him watching you with that unreadable expression, when he pulled you into a hug that felt like it meant something more.

But neither of you pushed it. Not yet.

For now, it was enough to just exist in whatever this was.

And, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t in any rush to define it.

The New York City skyline stretched high above the venue, lights twinkling like they were in on the secret that tonight was something different.

Joe didn’t hide you.

He hadn’t from the start, really, but there was a difference between showing up for each other in private and standing next to him now, his hand resting low on your back, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress like he wanted everyone to see exactly where you belonged.

And you?

You looked good enough to ruin a man’s career.

Your dress was the kind that turned heads—sleek, with just enough edge to remind people that you weren’t the typical quarterback’s girlfriend. Joe wasn’t intimidated by it, wasn’t the type to shrink when his girl demanded attention. No, if anything, he was thriving on it. Walking into the party with you on his arm, chin high, like he knew for a fact that you were the hottest couple in the room.

And you were.

It didn’t matter that the place was full of some of the most famous athletes in the league, that models and influencers and A-listers milled around with expensive drinks in hand—no one looked as good as the two of you together.

Joe left you only once, leaning down to murmur, “Gonna get us a drink, don’t go too far.”

You weren’t worried about being left alone. You’d been in these rooms before, could handle yourself just fine.

But apparently, someone didn’t get the memo.

The moment Joe was out of earshot, a presence settled beside you—too close, too confident.

“Damn, haven’t seen you in a minute.”

You already knew you were going to hate him before you even looked.

And sure enough, when you turned, there he was. A Cowboys player, one you’d interacted with just enough to know he was exactly the type you had no patience for. Cocky in a way that wasn’t charming, self-important in a way that made your skin itch.

You barely had time to open your mouth before he bulldozed on.

“So, what, you finally got tired of playing in the kiddie pool and upgraded?” He grinned, not even waiting for you to respond. “Figured it was only a matter of time. The whole ‘untouchable cheerleader’ thing was getting old.”

You smiled. Smirked, really. Because this? This was amusing.

He thought you were flustered. Thought you were scrambling for a way out.

Like you hadn’t been shutting down men like him since the first time you ever put on that DCC uniform.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, voice smooth as silk. “Joe’s an upgrade, alright.” You tilted your head, eyes dragging over him in an exaggerated once-over. “But considering what I was working with before, it really didn’t take much.”

His smile flickered, but he was too stubborn to let it go. “C’mon, you don’t have to pretend with me. I know you, remember? Back when you were just another Dallas girl trying to play hard to get?”

You actually laughed at that.

Not a fake, polite one. A real one. Because this was just sad.

“Wow,” you mused. “I’ve gotta give it to you, you commit to the bit. Most guys would’ve tapped out by now, but you? You’re still going. That’s dedication.”

His jaw tensed just slightly. “I’m just saying, no need to act all high and mighty. We both know you used to—”

“Used to what?”

Your voice was still sweet, still playful, but the underlying steel was there. And when you took a slow sip of your drink, watching him over the rim, it was clear you were letting him dig his own grave.

Before he could figure out how to claw his way out, a shadow loomed beside you.

Joe.

But not in the swooping, Oh no! My girl is in distress! way.

No, he was calm. Casual. Like he had all the time in the world. His presence alone was enough to shift the energy in the conversation, but you didn’t even acknowledge him yet. You wanted to see just how long it would take for the guy in front of you to realize he’d lost.

Turns out, not long.

Joe didn’t say anything, just leaned slightly against the bar, watching with mild interest. But the weight of his presence alone did something to your uninvited guest—made him shift uncomfortably, made his easy confidence crack just a little.

And that? That was satisfying.

“I was just catching up with your girl,” the Cowboy muttered, backtracking so fast you almost wanted to laugh.

Joe didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah?” He glanced at you, finally acknowledging you with a knowing smirk. “You having fun?”

You took another sip, grinning. “Oh, loads.”

The guy beside you tensed. “I was just—”

“Leaving?” you supplied helpfully.

His mouth opened. Closed. Then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Joe chuckled, finally handing you the drink he had left to get. “You were having way too much fun with that.”

You shrugged, taking a sip. “Can you blame me?”

He shook his head, draping an arm lazily around your waist, pulling you in just slightly. “Guess not.”

And the night went on.

Just you and Joe. The hottest couple in the room.

[munybagd]

NEW POST FROM @munybagd

i am going to fuck him … i have a thing for men that moan especially the ones with deep voices .. mm makes my toes sweat 😛 ( NSFW )

whimpers came out as he tried his best to talk “ mmm fuck baby p-please,” his nail dug into your hips as he helped you bounce on his cock faster. he didn’t want you to stop — oh no, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself if you stopped .. maybe he would cry or beg on his knees. honestly, he would do anything for you to keep going. “ oh yeah … don’t stop — i w-want you to make a mess of m-me ” oh he looked so pretty under you … tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked at you -sucking on your fingers .. he so nasty but you like it. LINK 1

he fucks you sooo good that he’s moaning too. “ o-oh my good girl .. my good fucking girl ” his plan is to slut you out doesn’t matter if it’s in the bed, living room, kitchen, or even the car. he wants you a moaning mess which slowly turns him into a moaning mess as well. “ yeahhh th-there you go .. mm you’re daddy’s good girl, taking my c-cock so fucking well ” It’s like a race ‘ who can tap out first ’ by the way he’s moans you would think it’s him with his heavy breathing but little do you know that this is just the beginning.. LINK 2

sensitive, dom, and a moaning mess … he is a three-in-one! gosh, you love it — the way he sharply breathes in when he strokes his cock into you, the way he moans in between words, and the way he talks dirty to you excites you. “ mm s-say it .. u-use your words, baby ” makes you wanna cum right then and there. he loves hearing you talk, even if it’s just babbling, it makes him smile, but not like you would know cause his face is pressed against your neck due to him leaving deep bite marks. LINK 3

( BOUNS )

no shame in his game . he enjoys making audios for you, especially in random places it’s his favorite thing to do and he ALWAYS sends them to you when you’re out and about. “ guess where i-i’m at baby — mm i’m in our parking g-garage ” things like this turns him on and he knows that you get to turn on hearing him slur and stutter on his words. “ i-i-i have our f-favorite toy .. fuck i wish y-you were here to use it on m-me” gosh why does he do this to you and when you come home he acts like nothing is wrong :/ LINK 4

[luv-lock]

... # ☆ GOLDEN BOY .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ 𝘗𝘈𝘐𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎 : Robin Dick Grayson x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 (𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯).

☆⁠ NOTES : 𝘛𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

It starts off innocently enough—just a little crush. You sit near him in class, maybe one row over, and you’re one of the only people who genuinely sees him, not as Bruce Wayne’s ward, not as the golden boy acrobat, but just Dick. The first time you smile at him? Oh, he’s done for. It’s over. That bright, genuine expression you give him after he cracks a dumb joke sends his heart into overdrive. He’s replaying it in his head for weeks. He starts noticing everything about you. The way you twirl your pen when you’re thinking, the soft hum you let out when you're focused, how your eyes light up when you talk about something you love. He starts making excuses to talk to you. “Hey, do you have the notes from last class?” even though he has a perfect memory. “Do you get the homework? I think I missed something.” He just wants to hear your voice, to make you focus on him.

At first, it’s all sweet, dorky teenage boy vibes. But then it starts getting a little intense. He watches you when you’re not looking—not in a creepy way (okay, maybe a little), but in a memorizing everything about you way. He just wants to understand you. What makes you laugh? What makes you frown? Who do you talk to the most? If you mention liking a certain song, you bet he’s listening to it on repeat that night. If you mention a favorite book, he’s reading it in one night just so he can bring it up casually. He adores hearing you say his name. He swears it sounds different coming from your lips. Whenever you do, he fights the urge to grin like an idiot. He gets jealous so easily, but he doesn’t show it in an obvious way. It’s more of a subtle coldness toward any guy you talk to for too long. If someone flirts with you, he’s immediately analyzing everything about them, thinking, What does she see in him?

He’s Robin before anything else, and that means he’s naturally protective. Gotham’s dangerous, and even if you don’t know his secret, he makes it his job to keep you safe. If you're walking home late? He just so happens to be taking the same route. Coincidence? He’d never admit it. He pays attention to how people treat you. If anyone ever makes you uncomfortable, he remembers. Not that he’d ever do anything drastic (yet), but they might find themselves getting mysteriously unlucky.

He doesn’t mean to know so much about you—it just happens. It’s not weird that he remembers your schedule, right? Or that he noticed when you switched shampoos? Or that he can tell when something’s bothering you before you even say anything? He doesn’t mean to follow you home sometimes. He just… wants to make sure you’re okay. Gotham’s dangerous, and you don’t have training like he does. And he definitely doesn’t mean to get distracted on patrol whenever he sees someone who looks like you. But for a split second, he forgets Gotham’s crime rate and thinks, Is she out this late? He’s self-aware enough to know this isn’t just a normal crush. But it’s harmless, right? He’s just watching out for you. If you ever casually compliment him—“You’re really smart, Dick” or “I like being around you”—he malfunctions. Completely. And if you ever initiate contact? Oh, he’s done. Completely, utterly, hopelessly yours.

Dick is a puppy when it comes to you. The second you walk into the classroom, he perks up. If he’s sitting, he straightens his posture. If he’s standing, he suddenly finds something super interesting about the wall just to avoid looking too eager. He lives for those little moments of eye contact. If you catch him staring, he plays it off like he was lost in thought—but inside? His brain is melting. He starts doodling your name in the margins of his notebooks without even realizing it. One day, he catches himself writing “Mr. and Mrs. Grayson” in the corner of his notes and nearly dies on the spot. If you ever say something nice about his eyes? Oh, you’ve ruined him. He will think about that compliment for weeks. Every time he looks in the mirror, he wonders, Does she like them this way? Does she think they’re pretty?

Whenever the teacher asks a question, he needs to be the one who answers it. Not because he’s a know-it-all, but because he wants you to see how smart he is. If you're struggling with something—anything—he’s immediately offering to help. Bad at math? Boom, he's suddenly your personal tutor (even though he secretly hates math). Need a partner for a project? He's already pulling his desk closer before you can even ask. He randomly picks up new skills just because you mentioned liking them. If you say you love guitar players? Guess who suddenly owns a guitar and is watching hours of tutorials? Gym class becomes his personal Olympics. If you're watching, he's running faster, jumping higher, and doing flips that are completely unnecessary just to get your attention.

If you so much as sigh in class, he notices. “You okay?” His voice is so soft, full of genuine concern, and he will not rest until you tell him what’s wrong. He remembers everything you say. Mentioned craving a certain snack? He’s “randomly” bringing it to school the next day. Said you liked a certain brand of lip balm? He notices every time you put it on. If you’re ever sad, he’s ready to drop everything. The moment you look upset, he leans in, voice low and sweet, “Hey… talk to me.” He’ll listen so intently, nodding at all the right moments, just aching to fix whatever’s wrong. He’s a natural gentleman around you. Holding doors open, pulling out chairs, letting you borrow his jacket when it's cold (even if he’s freezing). It’s second nature to him—he just wants to take care of you.

If you miss a day of school? He’s restless. Checking his phone way too much, tapping his pencil, wondering where you are, if you’re okay, if you miss him too. The day you come back? He’s practically glowing. “Hey! You’re back!” His voice is a little too excited, but he can’t help it. He loves when you talk to him first. The moment you say, “Hey, Dick!” in the hallway, he lights up like a Christmas tree. If you touch his arm while laughing? Oh. He’s not getting over that for at least a month. If you’re ever even slightly affectionate with him—resting your head on his shoulder, holding onto his wrist absentmindedly—he’s gone. He replays that moment forever, sighing like a lovesick fool in his room at night.

He has so many little fantasies about you. Not weird ones—just soft, innocent daydreams. Holding hands. Walking you home. Kissing you under the stars like in the movies. He imagines what it would be like if you were his. If he could just tell you how much you mean to him, if he could wrap his arms around you whenever he wanted, if he could finally call you his. But for now, he’s content just being close to you, memorizing every little thing about you, waiting for the moment when you’ll finally see him the way he sees you. Because to him? You’re already his—you just don’t know it yet.

Dick has been thinking about this for weeks. No—months. He’s built up so many little fantasies about it in his head. He imagines it happening naturally, like in the movies—maybe you’ll both laugh at something at the same time, your eyes will meet, and you’ll just know. But no. That’s not realistic. He needs a plan. So, naturally, he overthinks everything. Should he ask casually? Should he write a note? Should he just confess dramatically in the rain? (That one’s his favorite idea, but Gotham’s weather isn’t cooperating.)

He starts dropping little comments like, “Hey, you ever been to that cute café downtown?” or “Do you like Italian food?” If you mention liking a certain place, guess who suddenly loves that place too? “Oh, you like that diner? No way! I love that diner. We should totally go sometime…” He tests the waters constantly. “Would you ever go out with someone from our class?” (Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes—)

He practices in the mirror. A lot. He even tries different tones—cool and casual (“Hey, wanna grab a bite with me?”), nervous but sweet (“I was, um, wondering if you’d maybe wanna go out?”), and even overly confident (“Obviously, you should go on a date with me.”). But the moment he actually sees you? Oh. His brain malfunctions. “Hey—uh—so—okay—hypothetically, if a guy—like me—were to, um, ask you to hang out—but like, not as friends, more like a date—what would you, uh… think?” The second he says it, he wants to die. That was NOT what he practiced. That was awful. But you laugh. Not at him—just at how adorably flustered he is. And oh, if your laugh wasn’t already his favorite sound, it definitely is now.

If you say yes? Oh. He short-circuits. He’s trying to stay cool, but inside? Explosions. Fireworks. The Bat-Signal shining just for him. “Really? I mean—yeah! Cool! Totally cool. Um, how’s Friday? Or Saturday? Or any day? I’m free. Like, always. For you.”

Once you say yes, he goes into full-on mission mode. He has to make this perfect. This isn’t just a date—it’s your first date together, meaning it has to be something you’ll remember forever. He spends an embarrassing amount of time deciding what to wear. He changes outfits at least five times before realizing, “Oh God, I’m worse than Bruce.” He arrives early. He tells himself not to, but he literally cannot be late. In fact, he’s been there so long that by the time you show up, he’s already memorized the entire menu.

When He Sees You… Oh. He’s gone. The moment he lays eyes on you, it’s like the world just stops. “Wow.” He says it without thinking, and then immediately tries to cover it up with a cough. “I mean—not that you don’t always look great! Because you do. All the time. But tonight? Wow.” (He is so embarrassing. And he does not care.)

He’s lowkey flexing. Not in an arrogant way, but in a please find me impressive way. He talks about his training (“I mean, gymnastics is kinda my thing…”), but downplays it like it’s not incredibly cool.

When you least expect it, he gets weirdly soft. He looks at you when you’re not paying attention, like he’s memorizing you. Like he can’t believe you’re real.

When he walks you home, he wants to hold your hand. He wants to kiss you, but he’s too nervous (what if it’s too soon? What if she doesn’t want that?) “I had fun tonight,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. He really wants to ask if he can kiss you. But instead, he blurts out— “So, um. Can I… take you out again?” (His voice is so hopeful—he looks like a puppy waiting for a treat.) Yes? Oh! Congratulations, you have just made his entire year. He’s smiling so hard all the way home, practically skipping. The second he gets home, he flops onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, sighing like a total fool. She said yes. She had fun. She’s gonna be mine. I just know it.

Oh. You have no idea what you’ve just signed up for. Dick is the most devoted boyfriend on the planet. He’s not just in love—he’s obsessed (in the cutest, puppy-eyed way possible). He still can’t believe you’re actually his. Every time he sees you at school, his heart flutters. He gets this dumb, lovesick smile on his face and can’t even hide it. If you so much as look at him in the hallway? Oh, he’s grinning like an idiot. If you say his name? His entire day is made. He constantly reminds himself, She’s my girlfriend now. I get to love her. I get to take care of her. And that? Oh, he will take that job very seriously.

He always waits for you after class. No matter where you sit, what you’re doing—he’s outside the door, waiting with a big grin. “Hey, babe.” (He’s still getting used to calling you that, but he loves it.) He carries your books without you even asking. If you have a heavy bag? He’s grabbing it before you can protest. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you carry all this, huh?” He starts noticing everything about you. Your little habits, the way you fidget when you’re nervous, the way you tilt your head when you’re thinking. He loves memorizing you.

Oh, he is so clingy, but he tries so hard to play it cool. He wants to be around you all the time. He has zero chill when it comes to other guys. The moment he notices some random dude even looking at you? His entire mood shifts. He doesn’t make a scene, but he gets super touchy. Arm around your shoulder. Hand on your waist. Pulling you closer. Just little things to remind everyone— She’s mine. If a guy gets too bold? Oh. Dick doesn’t get jealous—he gets possessive. He won’t start a fight (unless he has to), but his presence alone is enough to make people back off. “Everything okay, babe?” He asks, voice casual—but his grip on your waist tightens just a little.

He is so cheesy. He will literally text you “Good morning, beautiful ❤️” every single day. If you ever fall asleep on him? Oh. That’s it. That’s his favorite thing in the entire world. He’ll sit there, completely still for hours, just so he doesn’t wake you. He keeps every little thing you give him. If you write him a note? He treasures it. If you give him a silly doodle? He tucks it in his wallet. He gets so excited every time you touch him first. If you hold his hand, kiss his cheek, lean against him? He plays it cool on the outside, but inside? Explosions. “I’m gonna marry her one day,” he definitely tells himself after, staring at the ceiling like a fool.

In his mind? This is it. You and him? You’re meant to be. There is no future where you’re not together. He doesn’t just think about your future together—he fantasizes about it. What your life will be like. How he’ll propose one day. How you’ll be his forever. She loves me. She has to. She’s mine. If you ever mention breaking up? Oh. No. That isn’t an option. He can’t lose you. But he’s not crazy. No, no. He’s rational. If you ever tried to leave him, it would only be because you were confused. You just need to see how perfect you are together. And if that means proving his love over and over again? He’ll gladly do it. Because you are his.

You have officially unlocked the most devoted, lovesick, slightly delusional boyfriend ever. He worships the ground you walk on. He adores you. There is nothing in this world he wouldn’t do for you. In his mind? This isn’t just young love. This is forever.

𝒍𝒖𝒗-𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 ☆ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.