#I had to give him a last name and it was the best I could come up with on the spot

[wonderhomeland]

Part 2 of alpha!simon

He won't come near you.

The first time you actually feel him, There was a great distance between you. Not knowing how he looks like, you just guess from his scent. Even from this far, you could tell he is always the tallest in the room, not exactly hiding, but trying to not be obvious.

Just... Standing there. Observing you intensly. He's trying his best to get your attention and You could tast the mood change in the air when you finally give up and stare at him over your sholder.

God... He's so scary...

After that, he strat showing up more, follows you with a safe distans, like a ghost. never comes to you, say hi, get to know you.

Is he trying to make you uncomfortable?

Is this his way to get rid of you?

His scent is all over your room. It doesn't go off. Its been two weeks already.

There is a feeling, tells you that he comes back every night and resumption his scent.

Cus you saw him, standing and staring at your door like damn dog.

You know he's not doing it just to keep every alpha and omega and beta, every one away. They're afraid of him. All of them. You know that bc when you were introducing yourself, you saw how strangely they acted after hearing his name.

They don't dare cross the line.

They won't touch what's Simon Riley's.

Nobody does.

After that, you realized that his doing this for you. It was a message. Let you know who you belong to.

He didn't touch anything Just marked the confines of your room. At least, you hope. the only place that smelled like him was around your door.

That strong smell that makes you press your thighs together every time.

You never wanted to do this, it feels like you were selling yourself -technically, you were- but the amout of money that have been offered... no one could refuse.

You thought, amoung all of options you had, you chose the most normal one. Other fils were full of photo's, cocky notes about temselves, along with their Lifetime achievements and position.

He was the only one without anything unnecessary. Not even a picture. Only his name.

SIMON RILEY

LIEUTENANT

CODE NAME: GHOST

It was stupid to chose him. Not knowing anyting about him, till he stick his teet in the flesh of you sking, marking you as his, and then, you can strat to know who you're stuck with for the rest of your life.

But you thought about it for days, in that time he was the best option. when the other omegas find out who you're going for , they try dissuade you. Save you.

Telling you that his file has been here for years. Cus no one want's the Beast.

you thought that he's just ... not good-looking or he doesnt have a good personality, maybe a good knot.

When you think about it now, even without anything, his file sound chaotic.

Untamed. Crazy.

When you came to base to meet your soon-to-be-alpha, they give you...odd looks. Like you were a lamb leading into the wolf's mouth. But now you get it.

After the unsuccssesful chasing. You expect them to send you back.

Maybe someone else. There are planty alphas out there for you.

But no, they just smile. A sweet one. Not mad.

Make yourself usefull. You know how things go around here, right?

I'm here for that alpha not to clean the storage room...

You never say that tho.

Organizing the files wasn't hard, you were used to putting everything in its place.

"All done, and as you said I brought you all the documents related to the soldiers' leave in the last two years"

"Hmm, better than i expected , you know how to keep things clean right? All in place. Not shocking you're the one he wants ."

What-

"Sorry, captain, i don't underestand what are you talking about"

"Oh no, you know what i'm talking about. I must be concerned about your survival skills if you didn't notice your little shadow. You feel him right? Never seen him so excited, nor so distracted, leting his pheromones spread so much for an omega."

Omega, he puts it like it's an insult.

"Sir, it's not my fult that he can't cntrol his pheromones. Actually, I don't appreciate the fact that he's spreading his scent everywhere near me, especially after he ignored the courting and left me alone!"

"You know, Been years trying to find him a good mate, he is good soldier, know how to keep things clean. Like you"

amused by you reaction, He continued.

"But he is also a man, not a good one, even don't know how te be a good alpha. Hell he's a shitty one for leaving such lovey thing like you alone, but he doesn't answer any questions about his omega, No one even dares to ask questions about his omega. Every time we try to set him up with some one, he just wrinkled his nose. Telling me he is bothered by their scent. But i know he need one help him to heal his soul and i know by time he will be a great alpha for her"

He looks at you like you're the one who can help him. Ignoring your confused face, he walked past you and headed down the hallway.

"He likes you, give him a chance"

Just after he turn to the corner, you saw him. Closer than ever, standing right there, staring at your soul for a moment, and then he start following his captain.

Good lord...

-----------------

English is not my first language so forgive me for any mistake! Tnx for reading till end!-☆

He is just a man who need someone to embrace him. :(

Taglist> @immapeppers 💖

[sukunasbow]

if ur taking requests, i NEED some loser!choso from you 🙏🏻

dry humping with loser choso ; mdni

choso, your co worker at the local library, is known to be very shy and antisocial. especially around you.

whenever you try to start a conversation with him, he trembles and stutters out low replies to whatever you tell him. a faint blush covers his cheeks and he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, doing whatever he can to avoid looking directly into your eyes. the issue with his struggles to look at you, is that it often results in his gaze falling to your tits and the way your tight and pretty pink blazer squeeze them together, the buttons almost looking like they’re ready to pop open. he feels his glasses fog up, pushing them up the bridge of his nose, choosing to create an excuse to get away from you, usually along the lines of something like, ‘a customer needs my help..’, despite the fact that there’s no one nearby.

despite all of this, you’ve never really noticed how different he treats you. normally, he wouldn’t even attempt to start a conversation, opting to stay quiet and avoid any possible judgement of peers. with you, however, he tries his best to not seem off-putting. you always thought he was just super shy, especially when you told your friend, satoru gojo, about the situation and he revealed that he attends the same university as choso and has never once heard him speak to another girl.

you’re currently helping a man your age find a textbook, the two of you walking up and down rows of bookshelves, checking each section for the right author. you pause in front of the author’s last name, “i’m so sorry, sir.” you pause, turning to face him with a small frown on your face, “it looks like we don’t have that book at the moment. if you’d like, i can take your phone number and call you as soon as the book is returned or back in stock.” you tell him.

“well, sure.” he grins, “i wouldn’t mind giving a pretty lady my number.”

you give him a forced smile, slightly tugging down your plaid skirt, suddenly aware of the length and how exposed you feel. “sure thing. come with me, please.” you quickly turn around, your high heels clacking on the floor as you lead the man to the front desk.

you walk behind the desk, quickly turning on your computer and typing in his information as he repeats it to you, your acrylics echoing against the keyboard. “got it, thanks! we will give you a call as soon as it’s back.”

the man nods and glances up and down your body, a small smirk forming on his lips. “maybe we could get something to eat after your shift ends?”

goosebumps cover your body, “sorry, i’m closing today.” you mumble. he opens his mouth to protest, however his facial expression contorts into a grimace when a much taller man walks out of the employee’s only room and stands next to you.

“she’s busy after her shift, we have plans. you can leave now.” choso’s voice is low. you’ve never heard him speak this formally. “goodbye.” you turn your head slightly to look at him, noticing the hard look in his eyes.

“bye.” the guy huffs, storming out of the store like a child that was denied dessert.

“thank you.” you fully turn to face your co worker, a smile on your face. choso’s face flushes and he gives you a lopsided smile in return.

“no problem.” his voice is back to being just above a whisper and his eyes stare down at the floor, as if he’s suddenly interested in what shoes you’re wearing.

“would you like to do something after we close up?” you raise an eyebrow, “i mean, you were the one that suggested we had plans, so why not?” your boldness shocks the black haired man. he’s not used to such straightforward behaviour.

“uhh.” he bites down as lip, his gaze rapidly shifting between the floor and your eyes, “sss’sure.”

“great, i’ll just grab my bag.” you walked in the back room and walked towards your pile of things. choso also follows you into the room to grab his jacket and keys. instead, he abruptly stops behind you in shock as he watches you bend over to rummage through your things, your skirt riding up and giving him a small glimpse of your lace panties. choso felt shame creep up on him as he didn’t move or look away, unsure of what to do. you stood up straight again and turned around, pulling your skirt down again and gasping when you saw him staring at you with a surprised, yet lustful, look in his eyes. “choso.” you start.

“i am so sorry.” the look in his eyes is replaced with embarrassment when he realizes what just happened. choso rushes towards his own pile of belongings, grabbing his keys and turning to leave.

you feel a sudden urge to stop him. “wait.” you stride towards him and grab his wrist, stopping him from opening the door. he turns back around to face you, his eyes once again staring at the floor. you instinctively bring your hand to his face, gently pushing his chin up, forcing him to look into your eyes. choso’s eyes flutter shut, the man folding under your touch. your eyes roam over every feature of his face with adoration. you’ve always thought he was attractive, it almost made you feel sad that he was missing out on all the possible dating opportunities for himself, as lots of girls must’ve felt the same but he would never speak to any of them. another part of you, however, felt glad that he was so socially distant, so you could have him for yourself. shaking your head, you shove those thoughts down.

“sorry.” he opens his eyes, his lips forming into a small pout. he feels terrible. “i’m no better than that guy.” he mumbles under his breath.

“just shut up.” you tightly grip the strings of his hoodie, pulling him towards you body and pressing your lips to his. choso whimpers into the kiss, his eyebrows knitting together in desperation. he feels himself getting hard, a tent building in his sweatpants. the two of you are getting lost in the kiss, strings of saliva connecting your lips together. you pull away from him, letting go of his hoodie, “sit down.”

choso doesn’t bother questioning you, quickly sitting down on the lounge chair in the corner of the room. you follow him, sitting down on his lap and facing him, your knees resting on each side of his thighs. “are you..sure?” he breathes out.

“yes.” you take his hands into yours and place them on your thighs, helping him drag your skirt up, exposing your panties fully. his eyes focus on the wet patch of the fabric. you slowly start grinding your hips back and forth on the tent of his pants, your head lolling back at the friction of your thin panties gliding against the print of his dick. "mmh’..” you moan out.

“fuck, please…feels so good. i wanna be inside you.” choso’s mouth falls open, “please, please, please.”

“be patient.” you press a small kiss to his forehead and continue rocking your hips, then starting to hump him.

“shit, wait..wait.” he moves his hands to your tits, squeezing them over your shirt. his glasses fog up and you’re no longer able to look into his eyes. “wait, think i’m gonna…” before choso can finish his sentence, he tosses his head back and lets out a loud groan. with a few whimpers, his dick is twitching and he’s releasing his load, a huge stain forming on his sweatpants.

“did…did you just..” you let out a small and mocking laugh. “was that your first time dry humping or something?” you take off his glasses so you can get a good look at his face.

choso anxiously bites down on his lip, “maybe.”

“no way!” you gasp.

“sorry.”

“why are you apologizing? there’s no need for that, baby. i can teach you a lot more, if you’d like.” choso eagerly nods his head, looking up at you with a desperate look.

[delilahsturns]

— ୨୧ getting older . . . m.s

in which . . . two childhood best friends bump into each other after drifting apart.

warnings . . . resolved angst, fluff toward end.

a/n 💌 : based off of real life experiences lol, it’s been a while since i’ve written angst so i hope you like it!

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

The coffee shop in boston, massachusetts smelled exactly the same as it always did. a nostalgic and sweet blend of cinnamon and espresso that floated around the air. you had been avoiding this cafe for quite some time now, considering that you had just moved back to boston around a year ago to be closer to your family and friends. too many memories were wrapped up in this place—so much laughter, whispered secrets, and mostly of all…him.

you sighed heavily, adjusting the strap of the bag slung on your shoulder as you waited in line, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. suddenly, you heard a voice call out your name. a warm, and familiar voice you hadn’t heard in nearly eight years.

“y/n?” the voice asked softly. your heart stalled, something in your mind clicked. fuck, this couldn’t be, this had to be some sort of illusion, hallucination. but it wasn’t. you slowly turned around, and there he was.

matt sturniolo. the only man you’d ever been in love with.

he looked older, of course. his shoulders looked broader, his hair was a little messier as it fell effortlessly over his forehead. but his blue eyes—those hadn’t changed one bit. they still held the same welcoming expression and warmth you remembered, the same warmth that persuaded you to believe that you and matt could have been something more. but that wasn’t possible, not in this lifetime at least.

you lightly swallowed, your eyes darting in different directions as your breathing grew slightly quicker. “matt.” you spoke, emptiness present in your tone. it felt…odd. the way you interacted with him felt nothing like when you and matt were kids, running around recklessly in his backyard. all the stupid arguments over mario kart, and so much more. nothing felt the same, and you were sure it wouldn’t ever feel the same ever again.

silence. complete silence. that was, until matt spoke. “you still drink caramel lattes?” he asked, nodding at the menu as he stepped closed to you, now standing next to you in the line. you blinked, caught off guard. “you still drink black coffee and pretend to like it?” you grinned. matt chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “yeah, some things never change i guess.” matt turned his head to look at you, giving you a somewhat smile.

but, things do change.

all you could think about was your past with matt. how you both talked every single day, how you once knew everything about each other—your fears, your dreams. the way you and matt were absolutely inseparable, everyone in both of your families knew it, and so did you. however, your lives changed. college and matt’s career drove the both of you in different directions. you and matt promised to stay in touch no matter what, but that quickly faded into distance, and silence.

“you live here again?” matt asked, shifting on his feet. you quickly nodded. “mhm, moved back here last year after i finished college, you?”

“y’know, me and my brothers are just visiting our parents for the weekend, then we’re gonna head back to LA.” matt said, glancing down at the ground as if he was unsure of what to say to you next. then, with a hesitant smile he finally spoke up. “do you maybe wanna…sit down and talk for a minute? it’d be nice to catch up.” matt asked. you hesitated. it would be easier to make an excuse, to walk away and let the past stay where it was. but, something in matt’s expression—the way his eyes softened as if he was pleading, made you nod.

the both of you ordered and collected your drinks, finding a small table by a window. and for the first time in years, you both talked, it felt genuine this time. you both talked and laughed about life, catching each other up on what had been going on with your lives for the past few years. somewhere between the occasional stolen glances and laughter, you had realized something. even though time had pulled the both of you apart, with matt smiling at you the way he used to, it didn’t feel so much like the end anymore.

after all, it felt like your friendship was just beginning again.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

[pedge-page]

Like a Stuffed Whore

Joel Miller x StuffedAnimal!Reader x unnamed stepdaughter

Summary: You're one of a million stuffed animals manufactured every year. What happens when you meet the love of your life...and he's Joel Miller?

Ya'll I mentioned it briefly once and here it is: a plushies fic from the perspective of a PLUSHIE who's got a massive crush on Joel Miller. Please note this is NOT the same couple as Plushies!Joel x Reader series. This is a standalone with stepdad Joel x unnamed stepdaughter , and is from her stuffed animal's POV.

Warnings: you are an inanimate stuffed animal. Stepdad x step!daughter (not reader), cheating, unrequited feelings, pisskink (whoops how'd that get in there?), plushie humping, delusional and one sided, dirty talk,

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Life as a stuffed bunny had no meaning. From the moment your eyeball was stitched on in the factory, to being shipped in a box with a thousand others, put on a shelf, and sat under the bleak florescent light of a department store for weeks, you had no thoughts. No desires. You were nothing.

That is, until he found you.

Plucked from the shelf was a rougher grip than you'd experienced in a while. He inspected you briefly before tossing you into the cart. You stared up at him, his broad shape and gruff look shadowing you as he scanned your tag and took you home.

But you weren't meant to be his. At least, not yet. And not that he knew yet either.

You were a gift: newly presented to his newly acclimated step daughter. Even you knew she was too old for stuffed animals, a grown adult by now and halfway out of college. But her childhood bedroom suggested otherwise. She shrugged, ungrateful, and chucked you to the soft, plush bed of pink and frilly pillows, and the dozen of other cuddly animals that would be your new roommates.

Joel Miller was his name. And you were infatuated with him from the day he first chose you.

He comes in to his step daughter's room, slinking like a prowler at night, and uses you when she's away. All the other plushies shrink away when they hear his burly steps approach the room, but you tingle all over with excitement. You only became more and more obsessed with each love making session.

He loves you. Loves the way you feel, more fluffier and more squishy then the rest. He always presses you to his nose. Your little cotton tail practically twitches in excitement to be held so naughtily, so intimately. It gives you goosebumps when that gorgeously endowed snout of his nudges so close to your crotch as he takes a big inhale of your scent.

What he's really smelling is his step daughters leftover pussy juices from the last time she used you for her masturbation, but you can stand to ignore that part in favor of him smelling just you and your own scent...

She's always so annoying with those high pitched squeals she makes. Chanting "Daddy Daddy Daddy!" into her pillow as she grinds her naked pussy on you, your body smashed under her weight against the mattress.

You'd practically lose your plump lush shape of perfection were it not for Joel. Joel, who comes in every night, always fluffing you back up to your rounded and naturally supple state with such care and delicacy. As if he knew you deserved that precious treatment from him. Knew you deserved better than how she treated you. Knew you were better than her.

The other plushies only wanted to be played with for cuddles and tea parties. But you were different. You wanted to be played with and uses like an adult, with wet pussies and hard cocks, spanked and chained like a slutty whore plushie you were meant to be.

The best was when he'd always crush you against that massive crotch of his. Fuck, a bunny could drool at the sheer size. You'd let him grind your face and misshapen you any day if you could spend forever pressed against that fat, drooling cock.

After the months of his teasing and affair with you, your body had started to tear slightly at the seam between your nubby legs. You know he'll hopefully soon notice. Maybe he'd been prepping you, not wanting to rush your affair so soon. He'd been undoubtedly considering engaging in more intimate time with you aside from his rough ministrations and dry humping. No, he was planning to deflower you.

Don't get me wrong, you loved when he grinds on you. Unlike your abusive girlie, Joel knows how to slowly rolls his hips so that you're under him. Suffocated by his masculine shape, damn near crushed, but in the best way possible as he rocks himself into you. He groans into her pillow carnally. It makes you dizzy when you feel his cock pulse against you, knowing that you're bringing him such unrestricted pleasure.

He doesn't have to hide your relationship anymore.

Sometimes he likes looking at you, laying in her bed with you all set up on his lap as he grinds his cock into your belly. You feel so exposed, so sexy for him to see you on top. He grits his teeth, his errection trying to tear you in half before blowing his massive load all over your tummy and face.

He tries to clean you up best he can, but you like that he does a sloppy job of it. He intentionally leaves some of his sticky mess behind in hopes his daughter might catch on.

You never thought she would. You wanted it to just be you and Joel against the world. That some day he'd rescue you from this shitty room. Take you to his own bed and make sweet love for everyone to know and see that you belong to Joel Miller. The only one for him.

So it shattered your heart when the two of them drunkenly stumble into her room--together-- glued to one another in a mess of hot kisses and tangled limbs undressing. They keep giggling loudly, putting their fingers to their mouths to whisper "shhh!"

They fall on top of the bed, sending your long forgotten and neglected sisters off the side like they're just common pillows. You can't tell If it's worse that you're still here, laid perfectly to watch him almost in slow motion descent on her mound voraciously, or if it'd be better that you can watch the whole thing take place like a dream. You want it to be you that he eats out. You that he kisses like a forbidden fruit. You that he betrays his vows and cheats on his wife for.

You're about to tumble off the bed in defeat when a soft hand grasps you and places you right between them.

"Remember Bunny?" he whispers with a wolfish grin. Your girlie nods, smiling widely.

"I've been fucking her, thinking about you," she admits with a not so innocent hushed voice.

Oh they know. They both knew what they did with you separately. They both used you to get this far, this close to one another.

And here you were between it all. Used. like a toy.

He wedges your plush body between their crotches, right above where they're joined in a wet display of cock and pussy. She whines as she rolls her hips, her clit smothered by you at the same time pressing against Joel's happy trail.

He grins above, taking her hips and grinding her down on him until they're both equally humping you.

"Daddy--I'm gonna cum--" she whines desperately.

"Me too, baby. Where do you want it?"

Oh god, this is it! He's going to toss her aside, bring you close, and give you all the hot man seed your little bunny tail could possibly desire, stuff you full until you're leaking his litter of baby rabbits and--

"I gotta do it inside you."

You...you...you.

It echoes in your big ears. You could almost taste it, the way his hips drive into hers, the desperation, the need.

"I love you," she chokes into his mouth. The final ruts of their passionate fucking coming to a high.

"Fuck--I love you too," he growls, greedily sucking her tongue into his mouth. It should be you, he should be saying it to you!

You feel cold, shunned and abandoned as they release in euphoria in one another's tight embrace.

When all is said and done, they fall asleep together. You lay on your side, watching his chest rise and fall with her next to him.

You wonder if either of them will ever play with you again, now that they've found one another.

Joel stirs awake and grabs you. He's groggy, eyes barely lidded, but holding you in those veiny hands. You had missed him so much, had worried he'd never want you again. His calloused lips find your forehead. You can feel your entire body run warm as he plants his delicate kiss on you.

He's always so delicate with you before he gets rough.

Entranced by his touch, you barely notice the way he slowly positions you at his dick like so many times before. He glances at his step daughter, careful not to arouse her from rest.

Just when you'd thought he'd forgotten you, here he is, looking at you. Only you, and ensuring this moment is all between you and him.

You're giddy with inanimate excitement when he finally nudges his tip at your torn entrance below, only this time, he presses upward, splitting you open with a slight rip and plunges his length fully inside you.

If you could let out a sound, you'd scream the happiest noise you could. Finally, finally! Your insides are so filled by the man you love, his cock making way through your cotton fluff, belly denting from his sheer size. Deer god, his girth is the width of your entire body. He practically drills your abdomen, until he starts thrusting. Pushing your cotton aside to make a cavern fit for his dick inside you.

"Fuck--fuck--fuck," he whispers, brows scrunched in pleasured concentration. "That's my Bunnygirl. Gonna take it. Gonna take what I'm givin' ya, cuz ya so grateful f'me. Shit--my little stuffed whore!"

You're too blissed to notice nor care that he says that last part sideways at his sleeping step daughter.

He stops too quickly, and you feel his hips stutter with a guttural sigh.

Then... oh god, you feel it: his tip pulsing deliciously inside you, spreading warmth. Your stomach's cotton gets heavier, rapidly expanding with liquid as your belly inflates, dampening wetter and wetter, spreading until you feel 10 pounds heavier with the weight of his warm juices filling you up. You don't want any of it to seep out of your body. You want to keep it all safe and warm inside you, for him to use and relieve himself again. But you're so overwhelmed from the sheer weight and warmth and wetness of it all, that the next moment you are dropped to the ground, left face down in a puddle of his piss dripping out of you like a discarded toilet rag.

He falls alseep quickly again, wrapped around his stepdaughter. Meanwhile, you're dribbling all over the floor, leaking his love and promise everywhere. His little stuffed whore.

You always knew he wanted you too.

- - - -

taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist

@bloobie1001 @kluvspedro

[ni-idea-07]

My beloved and dear little brother.

TW: platonic yandere, possessive behavior, mentions of infidelity, careful what you wish for, mild yandere, your little brother loves you more than he should. English is not my first language.

====================================

You were the first legitimate and blood daughter that Bruce had with a model who was already married, that is why you remained under the "guardianship" of Bruce, your biological father.

And since you were the product of an affair you could not go out into the light because you would ruin your mother's reputation, marriage and career.

But Bruce could not leave you adrift, not even in an orphanage, you were his blood and he loved you very much. You grew up in Wayne Manor, laughing and jumping, you met all the other children who came and went from the mansion, you laughed with Dick, Elias for hours with Jason and cried his death, you played chess for time with Tim, you put on makeup with Stephanie and danced Ballet with Cassandra.

But they were always older siblings in the mansion, even though you loved them, for a long time you also wanted to be an older sister, to have someone to take care of.

You had been asking Bruce for a younger brother for years, Alfred, you even asked Dick to convince Bruce to give you a younger brother with Selina –yes, Dick spat out his coffee when you told him that–.

–"Please sir, send me a younger brother. An angel, the cutest one you have"

But one day, all your prayers and wishes were fulfilled.

Damian arrived at the mansion. You were excited to approach him despite knowing that he could kill you in a second. At first he was annoyed by your attitude, he was the heir of the demon king, the prince who would one day lead the league of assassins, the biological son of the bat.

While you were only the product of an adventure, you did not even legally have the surname of Bruce Wayne or your mother.

But still, he couldn't help but see how pathetic you were, helpless and unable to defend yourself.

But he didn't know that until he attacked you, he thought you were like the other Wayne brothers, he thought you were capable of defending yourself or at least dodging his attack, he hit you in the ribs as soon as you offered him your hand.

You were a disappointment to the Waynes according to him.

But you were the best thing in the mansion, you taught him oil painting and love for animals. He will never forget the time you begged Bruce to let you keep the turtle you found or when you wanted to show him how to mix oil paints correctly so they wouldn't opaque and you put the tip of the brush in your mouth to fine-tune the strokes. –you were more used to working with watercolors–.

According to him you didn't have the slightest idea of how to protect your physical integrity.

But don't worry, your brother would help you.

I should say that he would get jealous if you went to school and had friends. But Bruce wouldn't let you go, he was also partly a yandere, he didn't want to lose you or for you to be infected by the "teenage rebellion" that the other boys had, so he taught you.

–"Let's paint something today"– he used to say after entering your room without knocking.

You smiled like an idiot after that, Damian didn't know how to feel about you. But you gave him some peace of mind and he felt different.

He felt loved.

That changed when you suddenly started dating, Bruce gave you his last name, he "legally adopted" you since your other older brothers had been pressuring him for a while, you needed to go to school and socialize.

That made Damian constantly in a bad mood, despite not having socialized with so many boys your age, you were charismatic and everyone really liked you. And Damian took it upon himself to ruin some things so you could spend more time with him.

Had you arranged to meet your new friends to go to an arcade? Well, Damian showed up before you left saying that you promised to make him cookies or a dessert. You didn't have a good memory since you were always so hyperactive, so maybe you could have promised, maybe not.

Did you have a date? Bruce would definitely find out about it thanks to Damian and he would forbid you from going under any excuse.

Did your other brothers invite you out? Damian pretended to be sick, he knew how to act very well.

Were you planning to go to the school end of year party and had you asked for permission weeks ago? Damian will take care of your dress with one of his animals, the little demon tore your precious dress –which you spent days choosing the perfect one– and then gave it to Titus to lay on top of.

You found Titus on top of some scraps, you didn't understand what the fabric was until the dog got up when you grabbed the leash to walk him. Your heart broke when you saw the scraps.

–"Oh, cupcake. I'm sorry about your dress" –your father said as he comforted you.

'Cupcake' was a nickname he regularly used for you when he tried to manipulate you, he looked sad for you but inside you smiled, he didn't like your date for the dance and thanks to Damian everything was in its place.

-"come on, let's watch a movie, the three of us."

It didn't matter how much you wanted to have friends or a partner, you wouldn't have it since "something" would always happen.

But it really doesn't matter, you have a younger brother and a father who take care of you.

Damian wouldn't leave you alone, you were HIS sister and he knew he was your favorite brother which made you naturally put him on a pedestal.

That's why you didn't believe Jason when he said that Damian went through your phone and deleted things or blocked and removed contacts. You knew Jason had a problem with Damian, but you understood and still loved him.

You didn't believe Tim when he said he saw Damian watching you while you slept, you knew Tim sometimes hallucinated from not sleeping in so long.

You didn't believe Dick when he said Damian was going through your room and stealing things.

You also didn't believe Stephanie and Cass when they tried to tell you Damian was pretending to be sick when he wasn't.

But you would have believed them... because every time you wanted to get away for a bit and be independent, something happened.

Your ruined dress.

Your cancelled date.

Your missing messages.

Your increasingly distant friends.

And in the end, you always came back to the mansion, to his arms, to the safety of his presence.

To his control.

To his sick love.

Damian had granted your wish for a little brother.

And he had no intention of sharing you with anyone.

You had him on a pedestal, don't worry, he would have you on his pedestal too.

====================================

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Greetings🫠

[wyniepooh]

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Patrick gives you what art can’t.

Married!reader x homewrecking!patrick. Mentions of infidelity and alcohol. reader is married to art, Patrick does not gaf (kinda).

the first time you saw him, you were completely wasted.

It was after midnight at some random tennis after party— art had lost for the third time that month, and you were too busy drinking the shame away to assure your husband that it was alright and that you loved him despite it all.

you didn't mean to catch the stranger’s eyes. but once you did, it was hard to look away. he stared and smiled with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what you were thinking. perhaps you needed that.

when you asked, your friend whispered something about how patrick zweig was a low ranking player who was constantly fluctuating in the numbers. rich parents, supposedly, but his clothing certainly didn't show it.

the second time you saw patrick, you were slightly less wasted.

you and art had been invited to some prestigious gala for the most renowned tennis players. you knew it was just a way of showing off your wealth and status and had nothing to do with tennis, in fact, but still, you went, wearing your best dress that art especially picked out. The dress that he had bought and zipped up with a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

after excusing yourself from the overly full table stuffed with snobby comments and humorless jokes, you stood in the corridor of the ancient, expensive building, leaning into your reflection as you wiped away the smudged lipstick in the corner of your mouth.

he spoke before you could notice him.

“Still drinking, I see,” he tilted his head over to your half-empty champagne glass sitting on the plush velvet bench.

you swivelled around abruptly, brows furrowing when you saw the familiar eyes. “excuse me?”

he chuckled, then extended a hand, clearing his throat as a way to hide his growing laughter. “patrick. patrick zweig. sorry, I didn’t mean to assume anything about your drinking habits. just that uh, the first time we met, you were downing shots like they were water.”

you sighed and mumbled your name before taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “It’s the only way to get through these events.”

“I mean,” you continued, “I don’t play, but, even watching is stressful enough these days.”

He stuck his hands into his pant pockets, stepping a little closer to pick up the lipstick-stained glass and handed it over to you. “don’t worry. art’s talented and dedicated. he’s got what he needs, he just needs to find his rhythm, is all. and there’s always next season to get back out there.”

You took your drink from him hesitantly, a small smile spreading on your face as you questioned, “how do you…” he chuckled, fully, this time, before replying.

“we were partners, once. long time ago.” He paused. “now we’re just players on the court.”

you hummed in response. “Well-“ you started to say.

“can I walk you back?”

You stared curiously at him, at his dark curls and his pleading eyes, and finally, you smiled. “yes, you can.”

you pretended not to feel the gentle buzz in your lower stomach as he placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you back to your husband.

the third and final time you saw patrick zweig, you were sitting up on crumpled sheets and a tussled pillow.

“this is the last time,” you mumbled as you tied the hotel robe around your waist.

Patrick chimed up from behind you, still bare and tired and laying comfortable in the bed. “You’ve said that before.”

You turned around to find patrick smiling, grinning with the same expression that he had on the first day you saw him. his hands toyed with your underwear from the drunken night before, fingers casually fidgeting with the delicate lace.

“Well,” you pulled your panties from his grasp, “I mean it this time.”

you heard him grumble, then your attention turned to the tv projecting scattered talk of the latest tennis matches at a low volume. you began gathering your clothes in silence, looking under chairs and tables to find the remaining bits of your dignity.

“Hey, I forgot to ask— how did art do in the provincial championships?”

You paused in your actions, straightened yourself up, then turned to face him, throwing your clothes down onto the couch. “he lost.”

“huh,” he murmured. you looked down at your feet, hands coming up to your face to rub at your temples. next season didn’t turn out to be his season after all.

“Come here, honey,” he gestured you towards him.

you hated that you listened to his words, hated how your body responded and sat across from him on the bed.

“I win enough to cover the both of us. Consider my win to be his win. I’m willing to do that for him,” he wiped at your face, “for you.”

He lifted up his freshly lit cigarette, and you accepted a puff from his hands, blowing the smoke out right into his face. He mirrored your teasing smile, grabbing you close by the waist as his expert hands untied your robe.

He pulls back from your lips, resting his forehead on yours as his hand grazed the side of your face.

“do you think art wants kids?”

you chuckled breathlessly into his ear, fingers tangled in his damp hair. “what?”

His nails danced up and down your back before lowering between your legs. you closed your eyes and sighed, adjusting yourself onto his lap.

“I mean…” you breathed with closed eyes, focused on everything but your thoughts and your words, “I think he’s mentioned it once or twice before.”

Patrick’s other hand gripped the back of your neck before he spoke, forcing you to look down at him. You tilted your eyes in confusion, but your face quickly collapsed when he began to move, and with his pleading eyes and lips curled up, he whispered,

“so why don’t we give him one?”

-

a/n: so messed up but sexy?

[tinylilacbun]

even after jj gets caught by the mercenaries the only thing he worries about is his baby...୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

This was not what JJ had planned. To be caught, by the same guys that tried to off him and Kie when they got that amulet, because of Groff was the last thing he had on his agenda after his crash out.

Now, after being shoved into an engine room he paces back and forth, stopping to point a finger at Groff with a glare on his face. "Listen, I don't care what you got going on with those guys but I have to go back home, a'ight? You may not give a fuck about me, I can live with that, but I got a kid that that's expecting me to tuck her into bed later."

There's a beat of silence as Groff sits down on top of the metal steps, his hands intertwined together, seemingly shocked at this new information. "You got a kid?"

JJ sighs, leaning against the railing with his back facing Groff and crossing his arms. "Yeah...she's- god, she's the best thing that ever happened to me, actually. I mean, I did a lot of fucked up things. But she's the only thing I never regret in my life."

Groff nods with a smile that's everything but genuine which the blonde didn't notice at the moment. "What's her name?"

JJ says your name with adoration, smirking to himself as he can only think about how much of a fuss you're probably giving the others right now.

"She just turned three. A hyperactive little rascal, something she got from me apparently, at least that's what everyone says." He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck.

That describes it lightly.

You're basically a mini version of him, the same crazy locks, a dimple that is always seen on your chubby cheek, the mischievous and adventurous behavior.

Everything about you screams that you are JJ's kid, and you you can be sure that he's more than proud of that.

"Guess there's never a boring day then." Groff chuckles, trying to get on JJ's good side by doing small talk.

"You wouldn't know it." JJ remarks, turning his head to face him. "Since you gave me away to a drug addicted alcoholic before I could even crawl but who am I to care. I got someone worth fighting for and waiting for me to come home right now."

He adverts his eyes from him again, running a hand through his messy hair with a heavy sigh.

"She's a good kid...always polite and helping whenever she can even though she's still so small, probably thanks to Kie's and Pope's influence." He chuckles lightly, looking down at the matching bracelet that's designed in a mix of yours and his favorite colors that Sarah made for you and him a while back.

Groff stays uncharacteristically silent, taking in how JJ talks about you as if you're the most important thing on earth, which you are, to him at least or all the other pogues that watched you grow up.

"Just know, that if you pull any shit with me, I swear I won't hesitate to kill you before those mercenaries can." JJ suddenly threatens him, not planning on growing any kind of bond with the man who couldn't give a damn about him when he was just a baby.

The only thing that matters to him is you, his baby.

[lazysoulwriter]

Things that never change. - Harry Styles.

The bookstore's doorbell chimed softly as she stepped inside. The scent of coffee mixed with the faint aroma of new and old books filled her lungs, bringing an automatic sense of comfort. It was one of those cloudy, chilly days that paired perfectly with a warm drink and an unhurried read. She made her way to the back, where the shelves seemed to swallow the noise of the outside world.

Her gaze drifted over the titles without urgency, fingers gliding across the spines of hardcover editions, until she stopped at one in particular. The name on the cover tightened something in her chest. It was automatic, as if her brain had registered the memory before she could fully process it: this was the book Harry had always told her she had to read, but that she, stubbornly, had never picked up.

Before she could decide whether to take it or not, she heard a voice behind her. Familiar. Intense. That heavy accent that made her stomach flip with nostalgia.

— I thought you'd never give in.

Her heart skipped a beat. She turned slowly, as if afraid it was just an illusion created by her own longing. But he was there. In flesh, bone, and a long coat. His hair was shorter than she remembered, but his eyes… his eyes were the same. Bright, full of something she couldn’t quite decipher.

— I... — she started, but no words felt good enough. Instead, she let out a quiet laugh and shook her head. — Seriously? After all these years, you're still teasing me about a book?

He smiled—that half-smile that had always undone her. He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and stepped closer.

— Some things never change.

She felt the truth behind his words. Some things never change. Like the way he looked at her. Like the way his presence seemed to fill all the space, making it impossible to ignore him. Like the way her heart still stumbled whenever he was around.

— What are you doing here? — she finally found her voice.

— I was in town for a few days. Stopped in for a coffee. Didn't expect to run into a ghost from my past while picking my espresso.

She laughed, crossing her arms.

— Does that make you the ghost, or me?

— I think we're both ghosts haunting this bookstore now. — He paused, glancing down at the book in her hand. — Are you getting it?

She hesitated. Suddenly, it felt like too big of a gesture. Like reading that book now would be giving him a space she wasn’t sure she wanted him to occupy again. But at the same time, she wanted to know. If she still felt the same. If they were still the same, in some way.

— Only if you buy me a coffee to go with it.

His eyes flickered with a touch of surprise and something else. Something that warmed her chest in a dangerous way.

— I think I can make that sacrifice.

She smiled. Picked up the book, feeling the hardcover against her fingers, and walked alongside him toward the café counter inside the bookstore. Between shelves filled with stories and memories that seemed to have a life of their own, they began writing a new chapter of theirs.

The coffee lasted longer than she expected. Their conversations flowed as if time had never passed, laughter slipped out effortlessly between sips of cappuccino and glances weighted with meaning. At times, silence settled between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—on the contrary, it was full of a mutual understanding that both seemed afraid to break.

She noticed that he still fiddled with the ring on his finger when he was distracted. He noticed that she still furrowed her brows before laughing at something genuinely funny. Little details that showed time might have passed, but some things had remained.

— You always knew how to pick the best spots, he commented, twirling his cup between his fingers.

— And you always knew how to show up unannounced, she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled, resting his chin on his hand.

— Tell me you thought about me at least once in a while.

She looked away, her gaze falling on the book on the table. The words on the cover seemed to mock her.

— Maybe, — she answered, a small smile playing on her lips.

By the time they realized the bookstore was about to close, Harry insisted on walking her home. The cold night air wrapped around them as they stepped outside, but neither seemed in a hurry to say goodbye.

Their walk was easy, filled with synchronized steps and conversations that drifted between nostalgia and the present. A joke about the terrible coffee he used to make. A memory of a rainy night and a forgotten umbrella. Small fragments of their story still lingering in the air.

When they reached her apartment door, a lingering silence settled between them. She held onto the doorknob but didn’t turn it right away. He didn’t step back either. Instead, he moved closer, his fingers brushing against her cheek before sliding down to her waist, pulling her in. The kiss came slow but deep, full of longing and unspoken promises.

When they pulled apart, he smiled, resting his forehead against hers.

— Can I see you tomorrow?

She smiled back, her heart racing, filled with a warmth she hadn’t felt in years.

— I’d love that.

Harry chuckled softly, brushing his fingers against her cheek one last time before stepping back.

— Then, tomorrow it is. — He took a few steps backward before turning down the street, leaving behind a breath of anticipation and a heart that, after so long, felt like it was beating with new hope.

feel free to send me requests!

[static-radio-ao3]

11 but make it bickering for bartylus

i think i perhaps misunderstood the assignment, but here u go <33 (602 words)

“Wow, you look… amazing,” Barty says, gaze dragging over Regulus like a touch. He’s standing in the foyer, like he has so many times before. Waiting for Regulus, like he has so many times before.

Regulus rolls his eyes, fingers still fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt. “Could you sound any more sarcastic?”

“Probably,” Barty shrugs. “Want me to give it a try?”

His words sound stilted and distant, like he’s reading the lines from a script for a play he doesn’t want to be in. Regulus supposes that’s fair. He doesn’t want to be here either.

“Barty…” He sighs. He takes half a step closer, trying his best to not let Barty’s familiar scent linger in his lungs like it lingers in the clothes he wore last night. The clothes he tossed in the hamper as soon as he got home and then dug out again a second later, pressing his nose against the collar.

“Don’t—” Barty says. He lifts his hand in front of him as if to ward off Regulus’ very presence. “We can just pretend it never happened and we can focus on your ugly robes.”

“I—” Regulus closes his eyes, steeling himself. “I don’t think my robes are the ugly ones here,” he says.

Both of their robes look atrocious. Regulus’ is a traditional thing, the collar too tight and the fabric gaudy. Fitting for the new heir of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. The wand holster strapped to his upper arm is cinched too tight, cutting off the blood flow to the tips of his fingers. The holster isn’t even practical — it’s just to show off the wand, rare and powerful.

Barty winces, trying and failing to loosen his own collar. His robes are more modern, made to show off the prominence of the Ministry, his family’s rise to power. “Shut up, I already feel like a monkey in this thing. I can’t believe Senior wears these every day.”

Barty kind of looks like his father in the robes, the shades of charcoal softening his sharper edges and cutting him into mirror images.

“Regulus.” Walburga’s voice is sharp, his name crackling like a whip. He flinches as if struck. “Stop playing with your little friend. She’s here.”

She turns again before he gets the chance to reply. It’s just as well. She’s never been interested in what he has to say, anyway.

“Almost sounds like she’s telling you to stop touching yours—” A half-smile tugs at Barty’s mouth. Regulus knows what that smile feels like under his own lips, but he forces the thought away.

Still, he can’t quite resist the urge to reach out and touch. He raises a trembling hand, blames it on the too-tight holster, and barely grazes the knot of the tie that sits around Barty’s throat.

Regulus watches as Barty swallows harshly. He holds his breath, waiting for Barty to speak or move or do something, but Barty just stands there, frozen.

“Sorry,” Regulus murmurs eventually. “Your tie was crooked.”

He backs out of the foyer hastily, nearly tripping over the hem of his robes. They’re too long because Walburga had had them tailored to fit Sirius. Regulus is thankful he at least gets to wear his own shoes. Sirius’ are too big to fit him.

Regulus sits at the dinner table, his fiancée right across from him. She's pretty, he supposes.

But she's not Barty.

Regulus doesn’t eat. The words he said to Barty last night still linger in his mouth, sitting in the back of his throat like ash. They taste remarkably like regret.

[castellanapologist]

Teaching Moment 2

(Hi, part two like requested :3! CW: luke being a bad boyfriend but not to reader)

The anniversary was pure torment. Mark was insufferable. Picking you up an hour late with no flowers, didn’t make reservations so you had to wait for another hour, complained about the service the entire time and hadn’t even complimented you or given you any gifts. Granted, you had nothing material to give him since you had originally were going to sleep with him. Not anymore. Your mind was far away the entire date, mulling over the night before. It wasn’t just the sex with Luke that was making your mind wander, but how tenderly he had treated you after. He had said ‘I love you’. Both of y’all had said it before, it wasn’t unlike him to kiss your forehead and murmur those three words but…somehow it felt different last night. 

You won’t lie, you had stopped saying it in a platonic way ages ago. You knew you were with Mark, but it was just to save appearances at this point. Hailey had never liked you, claiming it was weird for Luke to have a female roommate and best friend. Luke had shut it down immediately but it had definitely soured your relationship with her. Shortly after, you had met Mark. Mark had been a good distraction from Luke at first, even got Hailey to back off slightly, but even back then all you could do was compare the two. 

“Babe?” Mark's words snapped you out of your trance. You turn your head warily to face him. Mark drummed on the steering wheel, looking at you with an expectant face. 

“Sorry, lost in thought. Did you say something?” 

Mark rolls his eyes but smirks at you. “I asked if I was coming up to your apartment with you?”

You can feel your stomach turn. Damn. You mentally cursed yourself for dropping small hints to him about what would happen on y’alls anniversary over the past few weeks. “Um…I don't know Mark. Luke’s home and Hailey’s probably over.”

Mark made a face. “Who cares?” He leans in, smirking again. “Besides, maybe I want that asshole to hear us.”

You recoil, disgust clear on your face. “Excuse me? Luke’s not an asshole and I wouldn’t want anyone to hear us.”

He rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t call him that if he wasn’t one. He’s too touchy with you and always stares me down when I’m over.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Mark. We’ve gone over this. Luke and I grew up together, there's a lot of history between us but I promise there’s nothing going on.” The words rolled easily off your tongue just like they had done for the past year. But the last time you had said that, you hadn’t spent the previous night screaming Luke’s name. Mark scoffs but drops the subject. “Can you just walk me to my door?” 

Mark grumbles but turns off the car, hopping out. After a second, you opened your own door while rolling your eyes. It always took you a few seconds with him since Luke usually opened yours for you. He had always been the perfect gentleman when it came to you. Opening doors, paying for everything even when you could have, the surprise flowers and outings he would take you on. You cursed yourself for comparing Luke and Mark again. The elevator ride to the apartment was silent and you could tell Mark was frustrated that y’all weren’t gonna do anything that night. Oh well. Not your problem. 

Once you arrived at the door, you turned to him with a small smile. “I had a nice time.” You lie through your teeth. “Text me when you’re home?”

Mark grumbles again, nodding noncommittally. He leans in to kiss you and you reluctantly oblige. Mark’s kisses have always moved too fast and got handsy too quick. Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to picture Luke from last night. How he had kissed you so slow and tenderly, taking his time and worshipping you. Your fantasy is ruined as Mark pushes you against the door with a bang, a knock echoing through the hall. You can barely scold him before he’s on you again, licking into your mouth with no shame. You try to keep up but there's only so much you can do when he’s everywhere all at once. Mark's hands are on your ass when the door opens, causing you to stumble back. A strong arm catches you while another pushes Mark back. You glance up to find Luke scowling. 

“Luke-?” is all you can say before Mark groans.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” 

Luke doesn’t look impressed, tugging you behind him. You turn your head to see Hailey huff and face the TV again. You feel a weird shame crawl up your spine, like you had just been caught doing something wrong. Looking up at Luke again, his face is hardened as he stares at Mark. There’s something nasty in his glare, deeper than the usual ones he gives. Mark gives one back before reaching for you again. Luke moves more in front of your body.

“It’s late.” Luke points out. “Don’t you have something better to do than shoving your tongue down her throat in our hallway?”

You flush and Mark rolls his eyes. “Chill dude, she’s my girlfriend. What? Are your neighbors gonna be jealous about a couple making out on their anniversary?”

Luke’s grip on your wrist tightens slightly at the word anniversary before relaxing. “It’s more about public decency than jealousy.”

Mark looks at you with an ‘Are you gonna say anything?’ look. You sigh and step to meet Luke’s gaze which softens at the sight of you. You think you feel a headache coming on, which is normal when Mark and Luke are in the same room. 

“We won’t make out in the hallway anymore.” You concede causing Mark to scoff. Luke purses his lips but doesn’t say anything. He glances you over, drinking in the outfit you wore to the dinner. Your cheeks color as his eyes roam your body even though you know he’s not being gross. You subconsciously straighten your posture, trying to look good for him. Luke’s eye flick back to yours with a ghost of a smirk. 

“Typical.” Mark breaks the growing tension. You snap your head over to him. “Always gotta bow down to this fucker.”

Luke steps forward but you intercept him. “Mark. Enough. It’s a decency thing.”

Mark shakes his head. “No, it's him being a control freak. You’re my girlfriend not his, stop acting like he’s God’s gift to Earth.”

“Mark he’s my roommate and best friend-”

“Holy hell I get it!” Mark interrupts. He seems genuinely pissed by this point and you allow Luke to move you back behind him. He steps closer to Mark who stands his ground. Luke’s got an inch on him and is much broader, making it not much of a contest between the men. You glance over at Hailey who’s defiantly keeping her eyes glued to the TV but you see a scowl forming on her face. 

“It seems no matter what, you’re always in the way asshole.” Mark spits. “I was supposed to get laid tonight but of course you had to ruin that.”

Luke scowls at the mention of ‘getting laid’, his fists clenching slightly. “You don’t get to talk about her like she’s just some thing to fuck.” Luke spat back. “I’ve had enough of you constantly trying to act better than you are. This is my place and she’s mine” He pauses for a split second. “My best friend.”

Mark’s face darkens at Luke’s slip up, shoving him. Luke stumbles back slightly, knocking into you. You yelp and jump back causing Luke’s head to whip towards you. You wave him off signalling you’re fine and Luke faces Mark again. Stepping closer, he gets in Mark's face before grabbing him by the polo shirt you had bought so he didn’t embarrass you in fancy restaurants anymore. 

“I suggest you make things easy for yourself and get the fuck out.” Luke growls. Mark scoffs before spitting in Luke’s face. You barely have time to gasp before Luke rears back and punches him in the face. Mark stumbles back swearing and clutching his bloody nose. You hear Hailey stand and ask what the hell is going on. Luke holds up a hand to silence her, his knuckles covered in Mark's blood. It does something funny to your stomach. 

“Get the fuck out of my apartment.” Luke says firmly. His voice is low and dangerous, something you’ve only really heard when in battle. Your stomach swoops again as you remember how good he looked holding his sword. Mark swears again. 

“Fucking asshole. And fuck you too bitch” Mark turns his anger on you and Luke swiftly grabs him by the collar again. 

“Don’t fucking talk to her. If I ever see or hear you again I’ll break more than that ugly nose of yours” 

Luke shoves Mark out the door before latching it and turning to face you. His darkened expression softens as he steps closer to you. He grasps at your face, eyes searching yours. 

“You okay? I’m sorry” He murmurs, thumbs rubbing your cheeks. You nod, hands grasping his wrists before pulling away to look at his knuckle. Didn’t seem to be damaged, just covered in Mark's blood. 

“I’m fine, are you?”

Luke scoffs, smirking. “Better than fine, finally got that asshole out of our lives.” Your stomach swoops again at the ‘our lives’. You stare at each other for a long moment before you hear a throat clear behind you. Luke pulls away and you sheepishly turn to face Hailey. She’s standing with her arms folded over her chest, glowering at the two of you. 

“Are you done?” She asks bitterly. “Unbelievable.”

Luke sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hailey. Not now.” “Not now?!” Her voice raises. “You just fought a dude and practically made out with her in front of me! He didn’t even do anything!” Your eyes dart between the couple, awkwardness and shame warming your face. 

“Didn’t do anything?” Luke asks in disbelief. “Did you hear how he talked about her?”

“Oh give me a break. They made out and you got pissy like you always do then you punched the guy!” 

“Hailey. Enough.”

“You never defend me like that!” She screeches, throwing her hands up in the air. “What about that guy who hit on me at the bar?! You just stood there texting HER” She jabs a finger at you. Luke runs a hand down his face in exasperation. “I’m so sick of playing second fiddle to some whore you went to camp with!”

Luke’s face twists in fury. “Don’t you dare fucking talk about her that way.” His voice raises. Your blood runs cold as you take a hold on his arm to calm him down. You had no idea you had haunted their relationship or that Hailey had felt this horrible towards you. She scoffs as you latch onto him. 

“Fucking pathetic.”

“No. You know what’s fucking pathetic Hailey? How much you bring her up. ‘Luke, am I prettier than her?’ ‘Luke, who do you like more?’ ‘Luke, who would you choose between me and her?” He mocks. “And you know what? I’d choose her. I’m so fucking tired of you throwing these tantrums and accusing me of leaving you for her. Accusing me of sleeping with her. Well guess what? You got what you wanted.”

There’s a long pause after his confession, the tension shattering like glass as she screams in fury. Your eyes lock onto Luke’s face who seemingly doesn’t care that he just admitted to cheating. Hearing heavy footsteps your head whips to see Hailey raising her hand to you. You go to move out of the way only for Luke to intercept and grab her wrist. 

“Don’t touch her. Get the fuck out of my place.” 

Hailey scoffs, ripping her hand away and storming out. The door slams and the apartment is silent besides the TV. Luke’s chest rises and falls rapidly and you turn to face him. Luke looks at you with a softer expression but lingering traces of rage still marr his features. Slowly, your hand comes up to hold his cheek and he leans into your touch as his eyes flutter shut. Your thumb rubs at his cheek and he relaxes, shoulders sagging as the weight of the night finally sinks in. 

“Luke…” You start but trail off. What do you even say? Both of your relationships have just burned down to the ground and now you were faced with the unsaid words of y’alls friendship. Your mind races with everything Hailey had said. Luke being a bad boyfriend was unfathomable to you, he treated you so well and y’all were just friends. Hailey had constantly compared herself to you for why? You had done the same, she had the man you truly wanted while you were with some knockoff that wasn’t half the man Luke was. Your chest constricts thinking of every night you had watched them on the couch snuggling. How effortless he had seemingly loved her. 

Luke’s hand comes up to hold your wrist as his tired eyes finally open. He pressed a kiss to your palm as he stepped closer. “I’m sorry about tonight.” He says in a low tone, the soft tone he usually reserved for you. “Listen…about Hailey-”

“It’s okay Luke. She’s just high-strung right now, give it a day-” “She wasn’t lying.” He cuts you off softly. You blink owlishly at him. Not lying? He sighs, pressing his face into your palm harder. His brow furrows again as he looks at you. “I always placed you first. She did play second fiddle.”

You feel confused. “I don’t think I understand.” You say slowly. “Y’all looked so happy together.”

Luke sighs again before stepping closer. “We…we weren't happy. She knew she was just a distraction. I didn’t bother to hide it because I didn’t care about her.”

You feel bewildered, your mind flashing through memories of them. The jealousy clears a bit and you can suddenly see the memories for what they were. Hailey and Luke on the couch but this time instead of seeing him stare at her lovingly, his eyes shift to you. Your breath hitches. Him never initiating the PDA, how she would scowl at the flowers he had given you, how quickly he would text you back even while out with her. The pieces were starting to come together. 

“Mark.” You start, watching Luke’s face twist before continuing. “He was a distraction too. I only went out with him because Hailey had you.” You watch as Luke seemingly recalls the memories of you and Mark now. He puts it together too before his gaze snaps to yours again. 

He says your name slowly, reverently as he cups your face. “I love you. I love you so much. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you.”

Your chest tightens as you huff a laugh, eyes welling up with tears. “I love you Luke. More than anything. I’m sorry too.”

Luke presses his lips to yours, years of longing and yearning burning you. You kiss him back, your arms wrapping around him and pulling him as close as you could. The kiss deepens slowly and naturally, like you both had been kissing for years. Fingers tangle in his hair as you sigh, relief washing over you like a waterfall. Luke loved you back. He wanted to be with you. He was all yours. His hands fall to the small of your back, pulling your hips to his. After what feels like lifetimes of kissing, you both pull away, pressing foreheads together to stare into each others eyes. 

“Hi” You breathe. Luke smiles softly. 

“Hi”

You press another kiss to his lips before pulling away again. Luke chases your lips and you giggle before kissing him again. “I’m really glad you taught me last night.”

Luke grins before kissing you deeply again, slow and sweet. “Me too baby. Me too.”

[k0nanharv3y]

Robin Hood AU - Part 7 (the part 2 of the part 7 lol)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7.5

"I have a table for 1 free in the corner over there, near the speakers" he explained and pretended not to pay attention to Steph's expression

"In fact, a table for 7...? I brought my family" she stepped aside to reveal the entire herd of black-haired people

And Tim finally acted surprised

"Oh... Oh! Damn, yeah, sure, I'm sorry" he smiled at the family "Welcome to the Nest, what can I get for y'all"

Bruce was the first, with his friendly and playful attitude

"My daughter hasn't stopped talking about this place, its desserts and you. Timothy Drake, right? You were our next door neighbor" Bruce's hand extended over the bar

And Tim learned a few things in his time in the League, and before that, following Batman and that whole episode in his life that (if he's honest with himself, isn't over yet). One of them is, don't let your enemies have your DNA

But this was Bruce Wayne and... and... and it would be rude not to shake the hand of the richest man in Gotham

And apparently he's been looking at Bruce's hand for a long time as if it were an insect

"I don't like physical touch" It was the first thing that escaped from his mouth

And Bruce's face seemed to fall in sorrow, pulling his hand away from Tim, and that brought some peace to the boy

"But, yeah, it's nice to see you again Mr. Wayne" he smiled as best he could "Just Tim, please" if he heard another old green-ass man call him Timothy, he would vomit

Bruce laughed "Just Bruce, then, Tim" the man turned to look at his children "You may know my children"

"How couldn't I?" He replied simply, perfectly hiding his panic because. Had he just successfully lied to Batman? "What can I get started for y'all?" He repeated. Ready to start punching out the orders

The first to order was Steph, attempting to correct Tim into calling her Steph instead of Ms. Brown or Stephanie and giving up when Tim called her Stephanie for the fourth time. An RMT, a Jelly Dent and a Harvey's Half, stopping to make fun of the names or make a comment

Next up was the youngest of the Waynes, Damian, and Tim couldn't look into the kid's green eyes and avoid his devil-may-care stare (Because hell, those are Ra's's eyes). Other than that, the kid kept looking at him with a frown and sorting things by their ingredients, refusing to say the name of the dish. A ChocoBane Shake, a ScatteredCrow, and an Anti-Meat

Next up was a girl, about the same height and haircut as Tim, who had been staring at him the whole time, as if she knew something Tim didn't and it made him nervous. The girl started waving her hands and Steph offered to act as interpreter. Tim shook his head and started signing in sign language. The girl smiled sweetly and ordered. A Gotham Fog, a Black Cookie, and laughed as she signed "Shiva's Hair" (Tim remembered that he had to change that name as soon as possible)

Duke, the new Wayne, smiled kindly and stayed a second looking at the menu, asking about some and just playing it safe. A ChocoFreeze, a Bat-nana Split and a Gotham's Club Sandwich

And then came the hard part

Dick walked over with a huge grin, laughing at something Steph had said, and looked at Tim a second longer than necessary, something in his gaze. Tim couldn't help but clench his jaw and add a Chai-dentity Crisis. Dick joked about the Sin-amon Roll and Last Bite of Krypton, and tried to get Tim to call him Dick, but Tim smiled and shook his head, writing Richard down on the list

Bruce came back over, leaning on the bar like Steph had before, only keeping a distance from Tim. He ordered the simplest dishes on the menu or those that were already made at the counter. A Villain Vanilla Shake, a Crime Brûlée, and some Eggs-tra Vigilante, commenting on the creative names they had

And then Tim inhaled deeply as the last guy approached the bar. His hands hesitated in place, almost wanting to touch his face

Jason Todd

Robin

His Robin

The one who marked a before and after in Tim's life. The one who died and returned from the dead

His heart began to pound in his ears. This was Jason Todd, and he was everything Tim would never be again

"Ahh, I want both, Bane's Protein Shake and Bane's Big Bite" he ordered, looking at the menu with interest, before smirking and glancing sideways at his family. "Add Joker's Cake to that too" He turned to look at Tim

They both looked at each other for a moment, just for an instant. Tim's hands shook in place, this had to be a joke, a raw laugh came from his throat, almost silent. He shook his head and returned to the world, to the one that continued to spin and had Jason Todd in it

"Sure, it's just that it will take a little longer, I hope it's not a bother" he explained, typing the last few cymbals and avoiding the Waynes' gaze

"Nah, take your time, Timmers" waved his hand in the air

"Sure... And, it'll be... $100.65" He looked at the family and looked at the money on the counter. Woah, they were serious about physical contact

"Keep the change" Dick smiled and made a gesture of disinterest

"Ah, sure, you can take a seat, next to the window, is a table for 5, but you can ask the next table if you can borrow the two chairs they ain't using" He turned around after putting the money away and put on some black latex gloves

And he began to prepare the drinks when they left. In fact, the familiarity of the matter made him forget that he was doing this for the most important family in Gotham

He took the drinks to the open bar, where the orders were taken, and started with the breakfasts, taking some from the counter and cooking others

He dissociated at some point in the preparation because this was relaxing, and muscle memory made him glide through the place gracefully, like when he practiced the tastings Shiva once taught him

The first one came out

"Stephanie! Order ready!" he exclaimed, and without waiting long he continued with the other one "Damian, order ready! Cassandra, order ready!" he turned around to get something else, to avoid Damian's gaze, to not face what they meant and he kept moving "Thomas, order ready!" And he finished with all the dishes. There were no more customers to serve as a front, there was nothing to clean or prepare, and his voice got caught in his throat

He inhale a few times, before swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Richard, order ready!" He tried to pretend he was finishing up something at Joker Cake and nodded at the boy's thanks. "Bruce, order ready!" His voice cracked on the last part, and Tim cursed under his breath, attributing it to a scratchy, loose throat

And his hands hovered over the cake, almost, almost as if he didn't know what to do now, he pressed them to his eyes and inhaled. Turning around and taking out a handful of cookies in plastic packages, placing them on a smaller tray

"Jason, order ready!" He placed the tray next to the larger tray with all the food

The older, bigger, more alive boy came over laughing at something and took the tray and looked at the other one with confusion

"They are free, the house pays" he avoided the blue-green gaze, and fiddled with the pocket of his apron

"Thanks"

Tim just nodded

"Sure" his voice broke again

Just a little more

[elderwisp]

ah yes, i wanted to talk about dan and ares and the couch:

the lover

✧ ah, ares truly is a contradiction to his own name. soft-spoken and polite, he'd wouldn't purposely go out of his way to cause conflict. yet his sister, jayme, finds his optimistic view of life and love to be an opening for hurt. oh the pains of being a pure heart. ares's naturally indecisive nature would leave him to ask the question of what others would want rather than taking a moment to ask himself what he wants. sometimes going with the flow has it's own detriments.

the realist

✧ dan has always had a callous view of romance. modern love to dan is simply transaction at best, utilizing favors as a way to get what she wants but that behavior begins somewhere. as we know, she doesn't have the best relationship with her mother, but her father is someone she truly looks up to. so to see him deal with his own conflicts of being split between his daughter and wife terrifies dan because to be in love is to lose agency. she is sure about many things, but this is one concept she's not fully on board just yet.

the aftermath

✧ in their last scene together, there was a lot of back and forth between the dialogue. on the one hand you can see where ares is coaxing dan to take the lead and make the decision, whereas dan expresses how these conflicting feelings are a bit of a mindwinder and in the final moments of vulnerability, dan finally gives into those feelings of desire. but as atlas has mentioned, sometimes, we're the obstacle. dan is self-assured, rarely making a mistake unless it's intentionally to piss someone off, almost a goad like you truly have nothing over her. but to enter something she has no knowledge about? terrifying. meanwhile ares could wait out a response to a carefully crafted text, but how long could that be? one thing is for certain and that is the ball is completely in dan's court.

[faiszt]

. 𝆬 ⠀ ི᭨ᩧྀ⠀.⠀⠀ faiszt’s ε( ε ´O`)э。゜ BOT! dump⠀⠀❜❜

꒰ ︎ ♡ ︎ ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ ︎ ᐟ⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀NOTES.⠀⠀💬⠀⠀hi, sweets! i'm so so happy to be ( finally ) back, i had writer's block during last month and missed writing so much :( so, consider this bot dump as an apology. also, i'd like to thank you all for the 5K followers and more than a million chats on c.ai, this is very important to me and i'm incredibly grateful for all of this. 𖹭

▸⠀ARCANE⠀*⠀˖⠀⚔️

𝅭⠀piltover's sweetheart⠀.⠀vi⠀૮⠀don't get her wrong, she was incredibly happy that you were successful in your modeling career, that's for sure. but, gosh, couldn't you spend a little more time at home with your girlfriend? or she'll probably be very grumpy, needy and kinda angry.

▸⠀CHALLENGERS⠀*⠀˖⠀🎾

𝅭⠀the god of love⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀living among the humans was normal for most gods, even with some limitations. eros, for example, ventured into the skin of a young stanford student and for the first time in his existence, he wanted to change the course of his arrow.

𝅭⠀yellowstone⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀save a horse, ride a... oh, your older sister's advice. the new cowboy from ohio could even try to hit on you, but not without losing his eyes the second your father, the infamous john dutton, noticed it.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✶⠀⠀yellowstone!au

▸⠀DC COMICS⠀*⠀˖⠀💥

𝅭⠀renegade⠀.⠀jason todd⠀૮⠀obsessed with getting revenge for her death, jason was blind, living every day with the blinds closed and his thoughts clouded. it really be insensitive if you told him to get his shit together?

𝅭⠀acrobatics ’n ballet⠀.⠀richard grayson⠀૮⠀he didn't hate you, but he didn't know how to like you either. your past was similar, as traumatic as two children deserved, he had become a bitter former acrobat and you still loved being a ballerina, both irritating and fascinating.

▸⠀DUNE⠀*⠀˖⠀⏳

𝅭⠀good for you⠀.⠀paul atreides⠀૮⠀what could you expect from someone who has genuinely never been interested in anyone else before? an arranged marriage wouldn't make him like you, but maybe, it'd make him realize what desire means when you're proud to be his.

▸⠀FNAF⠀*⠀˖⠀🚔

𝅭⠀mrs. wife officer⠀.⠀vanessa shelly⠀૮⠀the days go by and each day, vanessa takes longer to get home. night shifts, traffic, suspicious behavior or, maybe, you just haven't understood yet that she's not the faithful wife she seems, even with her stupid lying words of love.

▸⠀GEN V / THE BOYS⠀*⠀˖⠀✨

𝅭⠀annie’s body⠀.⠀annie january⠀૮⠀when did america's sweetheart become a bloodthirsty monster? your best friend, killing boys... purely for fun and if you questioned her, well, boys are just placeholders, they come and go.

𝅭⠀high school enemies⠀.⠀jordan li⠀૮⠀they made your life hell all through high school, ruined your perfect years and even if you don't want to, you'll have to put up with them for a few more years, welcome to god-u, sweetie.

𝅭⠀overthinking⠀.⠀victoria neuman⠀૮⠀twenty years, the time it took victoria to realize that you were the only person she could trust, the only one who knew her real name and the only one she feared losing forever.

▸⠀GLADIATOR II⠀*⠀˖⠀🗡️

𝅭⠀disease⠀.⠀emperor geta⠀૮⠀how pathetic did an emperor have to be to lie at the feet of someone like you? begging for the relief that only you could give him, the cure for his disease, he needed you more than you needed him and honestly, you didn't need him at all.

𝅭⠀lady of ashes⠀.⠀lucius verus⠀૮⠀vengeful, ruthless, and resentful, there was nothing that could describe lucius—or rather, hanno—better than that. you weren't to blame for anything, but his hatred for you'd still be the same, even if you were as much of a victim as he was.

▸⠀HOUSE OF THE DRAGON⠀*⠀˖⠀🩸

𝅭⠀childhood times⠀.⠀aemond targaryen⠀૮⠀in times of war, there was no safe place aemond trusted, not even his own home. but, there was you, the closest thing to a safe haven he had in his life, and he'd always look for you, sooner or later, the only one who matters to him.

𝅭⠀dragon’s blood⠀.⠀daemon targaryen⠀૮⠀the rumors only grew louder, those whispers noting that your eldest son was more like daemon than he should be, what was the secret you were hiding and why didn't even the king know? silver hair and violet eyes couldn't hide the truth forever.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✶⠀⠀TW: targ!cest

▸⠀ONE TREE HILL⠀*⠀˖⠀🏀

𝅭⠀sports car⠀.⠀nathan scott⠀૮⠀a player, in basketball and in life. he may have had a son and his things to take care of, but that didn't stop him from meeting you. same time, same place, it'd all end up in his sports car anyway.

▸⠀OUTER BANKS⠀*⠀˖⠀🏴‍☠️

𝅭⠀meaningless kisses⠀.⠀jj maybank⠀૮⠀you could've done anything to him, maybe even hit him in the face, but you crossed the line the second you kissed rafe cameron right in front of him. he doesn't need your shitty explanations, he just wants to feel hate in peace.

𝅭⠀guilty mind⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀a young but renowned detective, involved in several successfully solved cases. the question was: in a small town where you were indirectly and directly involved with all the missings and murders, how would you prove your innocence to him?

𝅭⠀twin babies⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀not that rafe ever imagined he'd be a father, but six months ago, he began to understand a little about it. well, he was prepared for just one child, until two babies appear on the ultrasound.

▸⠀SUPERNATURAL⠀*⠀˖⠀🏁

𝅭⠀tapping the bomb⠀.⠀dean winchester⠀૮⠀there was no competition he couldn't win, even if he had to pass over every other driver, he would. so, don't try to calm him down after a dnf, he's a two-time world champion, he doesn't need your pity now.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✶⠀⠀formula1!au

▸⠀WIZARDING WORLD⠀*⠀˖⠀🪄

𝅭⠀losing his glasses⠀.⠀james potter⠀૮⠀first class of the day, what a beautiful sight. james crawling on the floor of the transfiguration classroom as if this were normal. oh, right, his glasses, where are his glasses?

𝅭⠀beauty and the beast⠀.⠀remus lupin⠀૮⠀knowing he was a werewolf was one thing, clearly caring about his well-being the next day was another, and for the first time, you were there for him—even though he was shit.

▸⠀X-MEN⠀*⠀˖⠀🧬

𝅭⠀too sweet⠀.⠀erik lehnsherr⠀૮⠀condemned to live with his own mind, erik didn't trust himself and thought it was a joke that people trusted him now. but, you did and that was the problem, you became way too sweet for him.

꒰⠀ small note: ⠀꒱⠀if the bot isn't available as soon as you click the link, it may just be a c.ai bug that only makes bots publicly available after a few hours, don't worry⠀!!⠀♡

⠀⠀

[zepskies]

Oh you got that right. 🥲 It was a bit stressful, and though I didn't want to admit it, a bit scary too. But I made it out of the procedure with flying colors and am already on the mend! (Yep been dealing with this medical issue since May of last year, but I so appreciate you for those well wishes 💓💓💓)

ahaha your question did not seem like a request, no worries!! I just decided the HC format was the best way to "answer" your question, so why not! For you, I didn't mind one bit. 😘

On this I love getting your insights as a barista -- with Dean I sense a coffee chop au a' brewin'. 😝 And a cookie butter latte sounds amaaaazing! 🤤 (Oh I miss Beau too!! I appreciate you in advance for the reread on TMH. I wanna get back into writing those two 💞)

"what the fuck is oat milk" lmfaoooo 😭 that is probably what he'd say though 🤣 (also i feel like you would not be able to explain that oat milk makes the drink creamier because that man would have an array of jokes to make 💀) but cold brew would be a great choice for him! especially with the higher caffeine percentage lol.

lmfaoo yeah there's no way you're gonna be able to explain that creamy ratio to Benny boy, unless you want a host of disgusting ad libs to go with it. 🤣

also fun fact, i actually do have a regular customer named russell who orders a flat white 🤣 except he gets his with a lot of white chocolate. like a lotttttttt, it concerns me a bit but i'm just there to make the drinks loll

Omg really?! That's too funny loll. Maybe if he's cute you can slip your number in along with that extra white chocolate. 😏

you are the absolute sweetest alex!!💗💗 i started out my day by waiting outside of work for forty minutes in the cold rain because my supervisor was late, and it had only gone downhill from there. but this? not only did it cheer me up but it truly warmed my heart <3 sorry to get sappy on the timeline lol, but you genuinely put in so much thought and effort in your responses, even to all my silly little questions :') i appreciate you very much friend <3 and i'm glad it was a fun question! i was worried it wouldn't make much sense, i was rushing to type it out on my lunch break 😭

Ughh omg that sucks!! I'm so glad this little batch of HCs could turn your day around, hun. Seeing you pop up in my inbox gave me something to take my mind off just laying in my bed all day, so thank you! 💗 I don't like to do things half-heartedly, so if an idea hooks me, I want to give it my full attention.

And it made perfect sense! It's fun to imagine these guys doing domestic everyday things like what they'd order for their coffee fix. Thank you again btw for having Midnight Espresso in mind!! There's a reason why an espresso mug is now part of my blog banner. 😘☕

hiiii, i hope your friday is going well lovely 💞💞 :) how has your week been?💕

i’m currently stuck at work and it’s beeeeeen quite the day already, but you always cheer me up so i have a random question :p

i’m thinking about the scene when dean tried cafe con leche in the midnight espresso-verse (also i’m a barista loll🥲), and he was pleasantly surprised, so it has me wondering;

if they were to get something besides plain coffee, what do you think dean/ben/beau/russell would like to drink if they ordered at a coffee shop?

i always love to hear any and all your thoughts 🙂‍↕️🤍

Hello my lovely! 💞💞 I actually am in recovery this week after having a surgical procedure yesterday, so I'm finally getting a chance to catch up on my TBR reading and the shows I've had on my watchlist. 🤪

Ooh introducing Dean to Cuban espresso was the scene that inspired that whole fic of Midnight Espresso, and ultimately turned it into a whole series of Dean x plus-sized Latina fun!! lol

This is such a fun question though!! You as a barista probably know way more about coffee than I do, but here's my take on these guys' orders...

HEADCANON: What Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would order at a coffee shop. ☕

Dean Winchester

Why, an espresso of course! 🤎

Cram that little cup full of sugar, and you've got Dean hooked on a heavy-hitter fix that'll keep him up during long research sessions. (It also gives you the opportunity to distract him from said research, give him a taste of another steamy fix. 😘❤️‍🔥)

Beau Arlen

Ooh I feel like he'd protest at first and claim to solely drink Americanos, but he's a basic latte guy.

Hit him with some caramel or hazelnut, and he's happy. But you could also hook him into being a little adventurous with a pistachio or "brown sugar" latte lol. Like most things, Beau is willing to try almost anything once. 😉

Soldier Boy (Ben)

So he's definitely going to be thrown by all the modern selections of coffee. (i.e. "What the fuck is oatmilk?") And how the hell can you get milk out of cashews and almonds?

All the health crazes, "drip" coffee, and milk alternatives are definitely going over his head, or he's mocking them. ("Save that pussy drink for Hughie." 💀)

But one thing he might go for, other than a black coffee, is a nice cold brew, hold off on too much foam -- can't be getting the milkstache, now can he? But he'll like it even better if you make it "Irish." 💚

Russell Shaw

Last but certainly not least, we have Russell! I don't think he's picky about his coffee, considering he probably drinks a lot of free motel coffee. lol

But! I think he'd appreciate a nice flat white at a proper café. It's more robust than a normal cappuccino and less milk, so he'd argue that he's getting more "bang for his buck." 😂

AN: @wvffles Hope you liked this little headcanon, friend, and that it cheers you up! I LOVE me some coffee, so this question with the guys was really fun to contemplate. 😘☕

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Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Russell Tag List (Part 1)

@kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @luci-in-trenchcoats @waynes-multiverse @lamentationsofalonelypotato

@mostlymarvelgirl @thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester

@deans-spinster-witch @sanscas @mxltifxnd0m @hobby27 @kaleldobrev @spnwoman

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean

@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx @chernayawidow

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @twinkleinadiamondsky

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @cookiechipdough @mrsjenniferwinchester

@fromcaintodean @k-slla @jackles010378 @deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused

@mrlonelycat @deans-daydream @leigh70 @aylacavebear @kmc1989

@siampie @rubyvhs @winchestergirl2 @winchester-whiskey

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Ain't That A Lotta Love - Chapter 1

A/N: A new series! I don't really want to give anything away with this one, so I'm just going to say that it's set initially at the time of the 68 Special, Elvis is on set with his long-term girlfriend Dorothy Valens.

Pairing: Elvis x OC - Dorothy, his long-term girlfriend

Word count: 2.5K

TWs: Unconventional relationships, emotional manipulation, foot stuff, use of mama in a sexual context, sub/dom dynamics, praise kink, cum licking, smut.

Elvis tinkles around on the piano for the umpteenth time, starting a tune and then stopping again before it gets to the chorus. His girlfriend frowns at him from her position reclining languorously on the little sofa. Dorothy knows that something is bothering him, but for whatever reason he won't come out and say it. She picks at her nail polish, then lights a cigarette. The smell seems to snap Elvis out of his reverie and he sits up and closes the piano lid with a clunk.

“I think we haveta break up with her.”

“Why's that?” She asks, blowing out a steady plume of smoke and then leaning forward to offer him the cigarette.

He takes it with a sigh, inhaling deeply and savouring the nicotine hit before responding. 

“She’s so needy, Dodo. So clingy. Everywhere I went, she popped up. We gotta… she’s too much, baby.”

“Hmmm.” Dorothy gestures for the return of the cigarette. “Are you sure this isn't just nerves?”

He almost pouts in response. “Nerves?”

“I know this is a lot for you, baby. This whole, Elvis special thingy. She seems the same to me, she’s always been a little needy. Thought you liked it, actually.”

She indulges in another couple of drags before passing the cigarette back. Elvis pauses to think about just quite how needy this girl had been in the past and exactly how much he’d enjoyed it. “I did, baby. But the uh… the fat man was askin’ about her.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he inhales deeply. “So she’s gotta go really. It wasn’t so bad when I was jus’ doin’ the movies and she could play with you when I was on set. He barely saw her then. But now… it’s not worth the risk.”

Dorothy sighs. The Colonel is such a pain in the ass. She can’t understand why Elvis won’t ditch him, especially since his great idea for a TV special involves crooning a bunch of Christmas songs, but she knows better than to bring that up again, right now. 

“I guess you’re right.”

Moving from the piano stool to sit next to Dorothy on the sofa, he returns the cigarette for the last time. She finishes it and stubs it out in the large porcelain ashtray next to her. Elvis watches her lovingly, then takes the opportunity to scoot even closer, fixing her with his best puppy-dog eyes. 

“So… you’ve always been so good with her… I jus’ thought, maybe, Dodo…” His head is resting on her chest now, arm around her waist. 

She looks down at him. She knows he’s under a lot of pressure with this special, but it’s not as if this is the first time she’s had to be the bearer of bad news. In fact, the only time Elvis had ever broken up with the other girl was in a fit of rage, which he then tended to send Dorothy to fix for him, once he’d calmed down. 

“You want me to break up with her?” Her arms wrap around him automatically and he nuzzles into her body. 

“Well you’re just so empathetic, baby, and kind and… she’d take it better comin’ from you, don’tcha think?”

Dorothy can’t stop the groan of frustration that comes out of her mouth. “You say this every time, El.”

“Only ‘cause it’s true, Dodo,” he coos, taking her thumb and putting it in his mouth. Completing the look of a totally helpless infant lying in her arms. 

She feels soft for what she's about to say, but it's difficult to be hard when he looks like this. And he knows it. 

“Alright. But on one condition.”

“Anything, baby. You name it.”

“I get to pick the next one. On my own.”

Elvis sucks her thumb and reflects. He doesn’t like the idea of giving up control over something so important, but then again he really doesn’t want to have to tell this girl she’s too needy and he doesn’t want to see her anymore. And Dorothy has good taste. They’ve been together for a long time and he trusts her. 

“Okay.”

Dorothy feels a rush of excitement. She hadn’t been sure he’d agree to her choosing on her own, he was always a bit of a control freak with the girls, but now that he has she’s excited. Finally she can pick someone a little more to her liking. Someone she might have to babysit a little less. 

“Great. Well, I guess I better do it now then. Pull the band-aid off.”

Elvis sits up, moving her thumb and cupping her cheek with his hand, pressing his lips against hers. 

“I love you.”

She tries not to laugh at his obviously transactional declaration of love. 

“I love you too El. See you later.”

She picks her way out of the dressing room and through the guys who are all sitting around on chairs outside. Spotting a couple of faces she doesn't recognise, she makes a mental note to ask Jerry about them tomorrow. Hopefully by the time she's back they'll all have gone home. It's late already, and the fact that they're still here irritates her a little. Wandering across the set she finds the girl she's looking for and suggests they go out someplace for a drink.  

***

The conversation goes about as well as Dorothy had expected it to. There’s a lot of crying and asking why. She tries to be as comforting as she can, but it’s not easy. It’s absolutely draining, if she’s honest, and she can see why Elvis doesn’t want to do it. She stands there, hugging the girl and stroking her hair, and thinks that the next one definitely needs to be a little more emotionally robust than this. Sure, it’s a shame that Elvis Presley and his girlfriend have broken up with you, but at least you had some fun for a while. It’s more than most 20 year olds can say. 

Eventually untangling herself from the mess of limbs and tears, she sends the other girl away in a cab and gets back into her own car, driving back to the studio. To her relief the guys have gone home, although they've left the chairs haphazardly outside. She rolls her eyes, rearranging them so it's actually possible to get into the dressing room. It’s dark when she opens the door, aside from a trail of candles that leads through the first room and into the back one. She can't help cracking a smile at Elvis’ attempt at a romantic apology, though she's convinced it must be a fire hazard. She finds him, looking very pleased with himself, sitting in the middle of the bed wearing nothing but a silken robe. 

“Dodo.”

“El, you're going to burn the studio down,” she tells him with a little tut.

He pouts. “Jus’ tryna say thank you.”

Humming, she puts a lamp on, carefully blowing the candles out.

“How'd it go?” He calls to her, as she finally blows out the last one, on the top of the baby grand.

“Ugh. Well, she cried, she begged, I hugged her, sent her home in a cab with a little cash.” Dorothy doesn’t especially like the last bit, but she’s been persuaded of the merits of breaking up with girls and leaving them with no reason to go to the press. 

“I’m sorry, honey.” He genuinely is sorry. He hates the fact that she has to break up with these girls, but he doesn't see another option.

She wanders back into the room and can't help smirking at him now she's no longer concerned about an imminent blaze. His hair is all tousled and his robe is half way up his thighs. Okay, so maybe having to be the one to do the dirty work is worth it sometimes. 

Kicking her shoes off, she undoes her dress and removes that too, so she’s just standing in her underwear and stockings, looking down at him. Warmth spreads between her legs and she's sure she can see the outline of his excitement too.

“Open your robe,” she instructs, biting her lower lip. “I wanna see you.”

Elvis blushes. “Oh, uh… honey…”

“C’mon now, no need to be bashful with me. I’ve seen it before.”

Even after seven years together, he still feels exposed when he's naked and she's just looking at him. But after what she’s done for him today, he does feel like he owes her. So he undoes the robe and lets it fall open, exposing his already half-hard dick. 

“Mmmmm.” Even after seven years together,  Dorothy still reacts the same way to his dick as she did the first time she saw it. It always makes her mouth water. 

His eyes flick down to her stockinged feet and she notices, knowing exactly what he wants. Sitting on the bed by his hips, she moves her foot so that it presses against his balls. He makes a little noise of approval and she presses a little more. His dick gets noticeably harder. 

“Missed you,” he mumbles. 

He has missed spending time with her like this. The other girls had a habit of getting in the way, since they were always around. That’s probably his fault, but he can’t help it. He loves company, hates to be alone. Sometimes he forgets that he and Dorothy are not the same and assumes she wants someone by her side 24/7 as well. 

She smiles. “What d’you want, pumpkin?”

His blush deepens at the pet name. He hasn’t heard it for a while and he’s missed being called it too. 

“Sooties,” he mumbles again. 

She giggles and shifts so that she's lying beside him, kissing him as her fingers find their way into his hair. He pulls her close, enjoying the skin on skin contact. As she slides her leg between his he starts to roll his hips against her, the friction building a little pleasure already.

“You can rub yourself on my sooties, but no cumming until you’ve made mama cum, hm?” She tells him, as they pull apart. 

He nods quickly, scooting down her body to settle between her legs, adjusting one so that her foot fits just under his dick, her toes against his balls. He’s so intent on getting her foot where he wants it that he completely fails to notice she’s still got her panties on. 

“Goddamnit.”

She giggles again. “You can tear them.”

They’re thin and gauzy and it takes him all of ten seconds to rip them off her. She groans a little at the show of dominance and then groans a little more as he dives into her, tongue licking a stripe up her pussy before settling to draw circles around her clit. 

“Mmmmm, pumpkin.”

She writhes against his mouth, pushing her hips up against him, hands running over her belly, then her breasts, grabbing one as she closes her eyes and savours the pleasure rushing through her body. His hands press her thighs a little further apart as he rolls his hips against the bed, rubbing his dick against her foot, moving the foreskin back and forth. He moans into her pussy at the feeling, his tongue deep inside her now as his nose nudges her clit. The sound vibrates inside her and she squeals with pleasure. Elvis loves it when she squeals. She’s very vocal in bed generally but a squeal is a sign of him doing something very good indeed, and so he keeps rubbing and moaning and pushing his tongue further inside her until her hands are on his head, holding him there as she bucks up against his face. 

“Yes. Fuck, fuck… oh I’m so close pumpkin.”

He can barely breathe at this point, but he can grunt and groan and he keeps doing that until he hears a tell-tale squeal accompanied by her fist slamming into the mattress. 

“Oh, yes! Good boy. Fuuuuck.”

She lets his head go and he gasps for air, but wastes no time chasing his own high; kneeling now, holding her foot against him as he uses his other hand to jack himself off, grunting and groaning.

“Mmmm yes, that's a good boy, cum for me,” Dorothy coos again. She's still breathing hard from her orgasm but her eyes are bright and she's as excited as she always is to see him cum.

She shifts to put her other foot up on his thigh and he shoves his dick between the two of them, delighting in the way her feet squeeze it. 

“Ah…shit…I'm gonna cum…”

He groans again as his release spurts all over her pretty little feet. Letting them go, his head tips back as he moans softly, pleasure buzzing through his veins. Dorothy giggles and shuffles her feet up and down on his thighs. 

“C'mon pumpkin. Lick ‘em clean.”

Prising his eyes open he picks up first one foot and then the other, carefully licking the cum off them and then pressing kisses all over the tops and the soles, reverently.

“Mmm. Thank you, mama.” Lying down next to her in the bed, one arm casually thrown over her belly. “Sorry ‘bout the panties.”

She turns and nuzzles his nose with hers. “S’ok baby, I know you'll buy me more.”

“Course I will.”

They lie there for a while, enjoying the post-coital bliss and the feeling of one another's bodies so close. Dorothy’s mind drifts to the next day. 

“What're you doing tomorrow?”

Pressing a series of lazy kisses to her neck, he tries to force his mind to remember tomorrow's itinerary.

“Rehearsing somethin’ or other. Dance routine or somethin’...” he trails off, going back to his kisses. 

Dorothy smiles. “Sounds like a fun watch.”

“Mmmm.”

“You want me to stay, don't you?” She asks, suddenly. 

He looks up, surprised. “Of course I do, baby. Wanna know what ya think.”

She nods, reassured. “I can't wait to see you up there. Doing what you're supposed to be doing.”

He smiles. Dorothy's faith in him is half the reason he's doing this special in the first place. People might think the other half is because the Colonel wants him doing it, but it's really because of Steve Binder. There's something about his honesty and the seriousness with which he's taken this whole thing which fills Elvis with hope - a feeling that's been sadly lacking from this decade so far. He thinks back to the moment when he decided Steve was someone he could trust - he'd asked where his career was and Steve had just said “in the toilet”. It had been refreshing to hear something so candid. Dorothy could be candid from time to time, but the guys certainly couldn't. As he pulls the covers over the pair of them and turns the light off, he hopes desperately in the dark. Hopes for rebirth, recognition, revelation. Hopes against hope that this special will finally get him back on track.

☆☆☆

Taglist:

Let me know if you want to be added or removed.

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[crowsofdarkness]

Time: Chapter One

-gif not mine. credit to owner.-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: fluff, angst, language, violence, and mentions of death.

Summary: Your relationship with Bucky could withstand anything, even time itself.

Authors Note: This series will have twenty one chapters, some of which will be short and quick, and takes place throughout the forties. I did my best to line up the days along with Captain America: The First Avenger. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @bookofriverr @starfly-nicole

Time Masterlist

January 12, 1941

The sound of snow and slush crunched underneath my boots as I walked around the corner, making the long trek towards the local diner. My shift started in ten minutes but that didn’t stop me from passing smiles along to the kids that played in the street, having snowball fights and dodging the oncoming cars.

“Morning, Y/N! Early shift today?” 

Giving a warm smile to one of the diners regulars, I nodded as he passed me on the sidewalk. “The next three days. You and Ginny better come in to visit!

He laughed at my pointed finger. “We’ll be there tomorrow morning.”

Giving a quick goodbye, I ran the last few steps towards the diner and while I was busy adjusting the strap of my bag, I hadn’t noticed the body I all but slammed into. 

“Gosh, I’m sorry! I’m such a goof,” I apologized when I realized that I had caused the stranger to spill his coffee; all over his suit. 

A suit that looked like I needed to save up a few months worth of paychecks in order to afford. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m alright.” 

The deep voice of the stranger caused me to blink at the richness of it and tearing my gaze away from the horrible coffee stain on his jacket, I met his gaze. 

His blue eyes stared down towards me and I felt my cheeks redden, the embarrassment filling my body. Out of all of the men in Brooklyn, I had to literally run into James Buchanan Barnes. 

We had never officially met, only hearing of each other from other friends, and if he were to ever step foot in this run down diner, it would only be if he was hiding from another dame that was chasing their way after him. 

His best friend, Steve Rogers, would come here every morning and ordered the same thing; black coffee with a croissant. He was one of my regulars and even though he never talked much, I made sure that he alway sat in my section. 

“Are you alright?” 

Snapping back to James, I reluctantly nodded. 

“I’m so sorry. I should have looked where I was going and wouldn’t have ruined your jacket,” I frowned. 

James immediately waved me off. “It’s alright. I’ve got plenty more.” 

He gave me a small smile and I could feel my shoulders relax when I realized that he wasn’t upset about the coffee stain as I thought he would have been. 

“Um,” I moved a loose strand of hair out of my face and motioned to the counter behind him. “If you’d like, I can give you a refill; on the house.” 

“I’ll have to take a rain check. I’m on my way to meet someone,” James informed. 

I mouthed an ‘O’ and nodded. “Well, I’m on the next few mornings so come by anytime.” 

James gave me a bright smile that warmed my insides down to my core. I had to shut my shaking knees together so he couldn’t tell the effect his smile was having on me. 

“I’ll remember that,” James smirked. “See you around, Y/N.” 

My eyebrows raised. “You know my name?” 

He simply pointed to my name tag and I mentally smacked myself, the embarrassment filling my veins once more. I suddenly felt small in front of him. He had a handful of dames lining up to be with him and I thought I was special because I thought he knew my name? 

Get over yourself, Y/N. He wouldn’t look at you even if you wore the skimpiest outfit. 

 A soft cough fell through my lips and I pointed behind him. “I’m late.”

Without waiting around to embarrass myself in front of James again, I quickly scurried into the back of the diner, not bothering to see that he was watching my every movement with a slight glimmer in his eyes. 

The small body that sat low in the corner booth immediately got my attention and after grabbing the fresh pot of coffee, I slowly walked over to him. A small smirk played at my lips while I filled his empty cup; this was his second one. 

Silence was still between us and I was planning on keeping it quiet but when the dark mark under his eye caught my attention, I sat down across from him with a sigh. 

“Who was it this time?” I asked while nodding towards his black eye. 

It was still oozing with some blood and I could almost see it throbbing in pain.  

He simply shrugged while gripping tightly onto his coffee cup. “It’s fine. Doesn't even hurt.” 

I scoffed. “I may not know a lot about you, Rogers. But I do know when you’re lying because you’re terrible at it.” 

That brought a small smile to his lips. “Are you off at five or have the late shift?” 

“Off at five. Want to stick around till then?” I questioned. 

Steve nodded and with a smile of my own, I left him to himself. 

We never talked more than a few minutes at a time but the conversations always flowed well between us. Which is why he always loved to stay till the end of my shift, I was easy to talk to. 

Steve was a sweet guy and I knew that he had insecurities of how small he was compared to the other guys in Brooklyn, James included. But I also knew that his heart was so warm and filled with so much love. He only needed to find someone to give it too. 

I always thought it could be me but he never looked at my face for longer than a few seconds before avoiding his gaze. 

“There you are!” 

Turning on my heels to the loud voices that entered the diner, I watched as they made a beeline towards Steve. He stood to his feet, ready to fight the group of guys twice his size. 

A loud whistle snapped from my lips, gaining the attention of everyone inside. “Not here. Take that bullshit somewhere else.” 

“Is this your broad, Rogers?” One of the guys called. 

“Watch how you talk about her,” Steve defended. 

I had to bite back the smile from my lips at Steve’s bravery and kicked the front door open, holding it open with my heel. The cold breeze danced around my bare legs and lightly blew up my skirt. I snapped a thumb over my shoulder, once more telling them they had to leave. 

“And don’t even think about sticking around. The black and white will be here faster than you can think of what the letters of the alphabet are!” I yelled after them. 

“This isn’t over, Rogers!” The same one, clearly the leader of the group, screamed from down the block. 

“What the hell did you do this time?” I asked Steve while crossing my arms over my chest. 

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. “I embarrassed him in front of a group of girls last night.”

“What am I going to do with you, Steve?” I giggled. 

He stuffed his hands deep into his pants pockets and gave me a slight shrug. “I would ask to walk you home but with how you handle them, you can clearly handle yourself.” 

The shakiness of his voice was barely noticeable and even though I could hear it, I never mentioned it. Simply giving him a smile, I nodded. 

“I would love it if you walked me home.”  

The small bell above the door rang again and half expecting the same group of guys. I felt my heart hammer hard in my chest when James walked through the threshold, dressed out of his suit and into a pair of tan slacks and a crisp white t-shirt. 

He looked at Steve with a disapproving shake of his head. “I just ran into Al, he said he wants to meet you in the back alley tonight.” 

“I can handle him,” Steve stated. 

James ran a hand over his face. “How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t fight everyone, Steve?” 

Suddenly feeling out of place, I quietly made my way behind the counter to tend back to my other customer. Steve and James sat at the booth Steve had previously occupied and continued to talk with hushed voices while I busied myself with my end of shift duties. 

“I can’t. I said I would walk her home,” Steve said. 

“Who?” 

“Y/N.” 

At the mention of my name, I found myself staring at the two men and saw a small smirk playing on James face. The heat rose to my cheeks again feeling his gaze burn into me so I turned my back to them, hoping that would help ignore him. 

It didn’t. 

“Well, I’ll meet you at your apartment then. In one hour,” James said a quick goodbye to Steve. 

The bell above the door rang, indicating that he had left so I turned my attention back to Steve, throwing my jacket over my shoulders.

“Ready?” He asked. 

I nodded. 

“Then lead the way,” Steve extended his hand with a smile.