#Just cop out saying “she’s like a god” is not it

[nizhspo]

genre: haikyuu imagine, suggestive

pairing: rintaro suna x fem!reader

summary: i think we ALL wanna get arrested. yes i’m looking at you!!

you’re drunk. but not in a dangerous way. yet.

just sweet and sloppy, sticky with tequila and lime, with glitter in the corners of your eyes and your lip gloss half-smudged from laughing too hard. the kind of drunk where your voice lingers just a second too long on syllables, and your smiles come with a little sway of the hips.

you’re barefoot, legs stretched long over the concrete, ankles crossed. your dress is riding up. your phone’s somewhere in the grass behind you, your heels lost to the thump of the party that had been blazing behind that house like a bonfire until the cops showed up.

and now?

it’s just streetlight shadows, the crackle of a radio, the slow crawl of blue and red lights flashing off windows and windshields.

and him.

officer fine-as-fuck.

he doesn’t belong here. too polished, too pretty. he’s got that new-issue look, fresh out of the academy with the sleeves of his uniform still a little too crisp, like he hasn’t sweated through them yet. like he doesn’t know what to do with all that quiet heat running under his skin.

you’re watching him like he’s dessert.

your friend nudges you sharply in the side. “girl,” she hisses. “girl. do not.”

you just grin.

“but he’s so cute,” you murmur, loud enough to make her groan. “look at his little badge—”

“that’s a cop. a real cop. with a real gun.”

“and a real mouth,” you say dreamily, squinting up at him from your curbside perch. “wonder what else is real.”

he hears you.

of course he hears you. the blush is instant, starting at his throat and creeping up beneath his collar like ivy. his mouth twitches like he’s biting down something, maybe a laugh, maybe a groan.

you push yourself up on unsteady feet and stumble once, catching your balance on a lamppost. and then you’re walking toward him.

he doesn’t move. not when you approach, not when you tilt your head and look up at him like you’re studying fine art.

“what’s your number, officer?” you ask, coy. “your badge number. or your… other number.”

he blinks. then clears his throat.

“uh.” a pause. “two-six-seven-three.”

you giggle. “oh my god, you’re shy.”

“i’m not—” he tries, but his voice is too low, too smooth, like velvet rubbed backwards. “ma’am, you should head home. the party’s over.”

“are you gonna take me home?” you say sweetly, leaning a little closer, swaying just slightly. “you gonna cuff me and throw me in the back of your little cop car?”

behind him, another officer, not nearly as good-looking, much older, lets out a snort. “rookie’s first friday night bar patrol,” he mutters to his partner. “god help him.”

suna’s eye twitches. he shifts his weight. doesn’t make eye contact with them.

you’re watching him like a cat with a canary.

“don’t start something you can’t finish,” one of the older officers calls, half-joking.

suna just looks at you. like he doesn’t know whether to reprimand you or run from you. his lips part like he wants to say something. then close again. he drags a hand down his face like he regrets every life decision that led to this moment.

you, grinning like the devil in lip gloss, press a finger against his vest.

“you’re really not gonna arrest me?” you whisper. “not even a little?”

his voice is barely audible. strained.

“no. but if you don’t stop talking like that, i might quit.”

you lean back, laughing loud, dizzy, delighted.

behind him, the older officers exchange a chuckle. “he’s getting eaten alive,” one of them mutters.

“should’ve stayed on traffic duty,” the other says.

but he doesn’t even flinch. not at them. not at you. until you drop it.

your lip balm. deliberately.

you hum. “oops.”

then you sink. slow. you know exactly what you’re doing. bending over, back arched like a pin-up, the hem of your dress slipping up higher on your thighs. hands lingering on your knees before reaching the ground. head tilted just enough to catch him in your periphery.

he’s not looking.

trying not to look. he’s stiff. jaw locked. staring at the sky like there’s a divine intervention coming.

you rise again, twisting the cap back on your lip balm. “thanks for not looking, officer,” you say, breathy. “you’re so respectful.”

he exhales, a single sharp breath through his nose. “please go home,” he says, like he’s praying.

but then, you glance across the street.

your friend is standing near the corner, deep in conversation. her ex. hands around her waist. pulling her close. whispering something in her ear. and she’s letting him.

you hum. tilt your head. classic.

you walk a few slow steps toward her. call her name.

she turns, blinking. “are you coming? we’ll drop you—”

you smile. too wide. too sweet.

“no, babe. i’m good.” you glance back at suna. then forward again. “i’m in good hands.”

you turn. look suna dead in the eye. slow. sultry. smiling like you already know how this ends.

her eyes follow your gaze. widen a little.

she giggles. “okay. call me if you need anything.” and she walks off. her ex’s hands still on her hips.

you watch her go. then turn right back to the man in blue.

you’re holding your phone, half-dead and smudged with gloss, screen cracked from a clumsy drop on the driveway. but when you look up, when your eyes drift to the curve of his mouth, the sharp angle of his jaw, the way his lips twitch like he’s holding back something dangerous—you catch it.

the pen.

sitting right there in the pocket of his vest, clipped just beneath the strap that crosses his chest. snug against his heart. matte black but polished at the edges, with a chrome ring near the cap that catches in the light—just barely. a glint. a shimmer. a flash of silver that winks at you like it’s daring you to reach for it.

you’d been staring at his lips.

watching the way they parted just slightly when you tilted your head. the way he sucked in a slow breath when you swayed a little closer. the way his tongue darted out, quick and quiet, to wet the corner of his mouth.

and then that glint hit you.

a soft little flash in the moonlight. like it wanted your attention.

you lean forward, lashes fluttering, and before he can react—swipe.

pen: stolen.

you smile, so proud of yourself, so pleased, like you just picked a rose from someone’s garden and dared them to stop you.

his mouth parts. his gaze drops. just for a second.

you smile like sin in lip gloss. “oh no,” you whisper in mock horror. “did i just commit… theft?”

his jaw tenses. “ma’am.”

“you’re not gonna arrest me?” you pout.

“you better recover that government property, rookie,” one of the officers calls from the sidewalk, barely containing laughter.

“serious breach,” another says. “felony in three states.”

his jaw twitches.

you raise your hands behind your head in mock surrender. the pen still perched like a trophy.

“i won’t resist,” you say sweetly. “but i do have to warn you… i’m ticklish.”

he mutters something under his breath. something rough and desperate. it scrapes in his throat like it burned on the way out.

“you’re not gonna behave, are you?”

“never have,” you chirp, grinning.

he sighs. long. you watch the rise and fall of his chest as he drags a hand down his face, slow, like he’s scrubbing regret from his skin. like he’s trying to rub the want out of his eyes before it bleeds through.

then: “turn around.”

your breath catches and you gasp, faux-scandalized, voice high and breathy: “right here? in front of everyone?”

your grin curls before he can react. you pivot on your bare feet, each step a sway, hips rolling just a little more than necessary. you plant your palms flat on the hood of the cruiser; still warm from the sun, soft with dust, solid under your fingers. you bend at the waist, tilt your head to the side, cheek resting gently on your arm so you can watch him in the reflection off the glass.

and you see him.

see the flex of his jaw. the way his throat works around a swallow. the tremor in his hands before he schools them still and steps into your space.

you feel him.

the brush of his thigh against yours. the heavy drag of his belt grazing the curve of your ass. the weight of his presence, close, close, too close to be clean anymore. his breath fans across the back of your neck when he leans in. his fingers hover over your wrists, ghosting the skin, so light it almost tickles.

and then: click.

cold metal. sharp. not rough, but sure. the cuff snaps closed around one wrist, and you shift on purpose.

your hips roll back, slow and subtle, and your ass brushes his front.

he flinches. a full-body jolt. like electricity bit his spine.

you don’t stop.

you settle into the position like it’s natural. like it’s comfortable. like the shape of your body was made to fill this space.

his hand finds your other wrist. steadier this time, but not by much.

his palm is warm. his grip is firm. the pads of his fingers press into your skin a second longer than needed, like he’s committing the feel of you to memory.

and then: click.

the second cuff fastens.

you hum low. pleased. like you’ve just been gift-wrapped.

“mm,” you purr. “tight.”

his breath stutters. sharp in his nose, thick in his throat. you can hear the strain in it, like he’s choking on something he doesn’t know how to name. his fingers linger on the cuffs, and they’re trembling.

and behind you, you feel it.

solid. thick. hot, pressed low and hard against the small of your back, a weight that wasn’t there before, that shouldn’t be there now. he’s not pushing into you. not grinding. he’s just there.

too still. too aware. too wrecked.

you arch again, slowly. deliberately. your spine curves like a bowstring drawn back, your hips tilting up and back into him like a dare wrapped in silk.

you hear his breath hitch. feel his hand twitch on your hip like he doesn’t trust it to behave.

“is that…” you murmur, saccharine and dangerous, “standard issue?”

he chokes on air. actually chokes.

and then he stumbles back. just half a step, but enough. like your skin scorched him.

you smile into the hood of the cruiser. sweet. smug. starving.

you glance over your shoulder, eyes half-lidded. “no pat down?” you ask. “you don’t wanna make sure i’m not hiding anything?”

he’s silent. then he grabs your elbow. gently. firm. walks you to the backseat of the cruiser.

and as you lean into him, your body twists just enough, your ass presses right into his groin.

his breath stutters.

you turn your head. look him straight in the eye.

“officer,” you murmur. “you’re gonna have to drive very carefully.”

he says nothing. just opens the door. helps you in. closes it like a threat.

and from the driver’s seat, he doesn’t speak. but you see the sweat on his temple.

and the pen? still behind your ear.

[seishroo]

FRATBOY SATORU COLLEGE AU 🪩🍸

cw. fem reader, mentions of alcohol use, vulgar language, cocky men

fratboy!satoru is THAT frat boy — president of the house, the life of every single party. he’s obnoxiously loud, cocky, and unfortunately very charming. he’s a mess, a hot one — that smirk can get him out of trouble and into anyone’s sheets in an instant. despite this, when he sees you show up at one of his frat parties, he knew in that moment the chase had begun — and the strongest was never one to lose. 

CH. 01 , wc. 1.3k

it was yet again another one of those nights — music blasting, bedroom a hot ass mess, just complete chaos. initially, you wanted to stay in for the night. exams were coming up and lord knows if you don’t pass, you might as well say goodbye to this university you got in off scholarships and a hell of an essay. but of course, your homegirls had managed to stray you away from your studies and convince you to go to another one of those fuckass frat parties that always end up in people tripping off who knows what, messy fights, and soon enough cops showing up. 

“girl, you always in them damn books! live a little!”, giggled shoko as you moaned and groaned about ‘not being in the mood to party’. someone must’ve kidnapped the real you and replaced you with a near identical copy cause huh? not in the mood to party? girl bye the sky ain’t pink is it??

“God forbid a girl wants to stay on top of her shit!”, you retort back to her, giggling as well despite yourself being clowned by your friend. she was right though, you did need to live a little. you had been extremely overwhelmed with how fast your junior year has gone by — it seemed like time was screaming ‘the hell with you’ in your face. 

“let’s just hope you don’t get on top of anyone else’s shit tonight”, utahime chimed in with a playful wink, knowing you sometimes become a man-eater when you’re under the influence. it’s not your fault there be some hotties at these parties! if they weren’t meant to be graced by your presence, they wouldn’t be there in the first place! that whole ‘everything happens for a reason’ saying right?

“there’s no need to hope, she needs a damn miracle”, shoko added, making you roll your eyes in half-irritation. “a miracle? we all know you gon end up back at suguru’s crib before the party even ends!”, you shout, resulting in both girls snorting their tails off. shoko and suguru were a messssyyyy ass duo, what did latto say? ‘how you let him cheat and take him back, must be ya only nigga!’. but who were you to judge right?

“alright, you win for now. ima get yo ass back for that later just you wait!”, shoko jokes, continuing to beat up her face. a few minutes later utahime rolls back in the room, glasses clinking. “enough horsin’ around, it’s baddie baddie shot o’clock time!”, she cheers, setting the shot glasses down on the vanity. 

“you always talkin’ bout some damn baddie baddie shot o’clock!”, you laughed, applying your finishing touches to your own makeup before picking up one of the glasses. “sho, i think she tryna fuck us up tonight..”, you said as you analyzed it. 

“right! she filled these shits to the brim!”, shoko added before picking up a glass herself. “who you foolin??”, utahime hollered, knowing the two of you were never one to pass up a drink. “y’all betta drink up, i’m not going to be the only one havin a time”, she said as the three of you did your cheers and downed the shots. 

“okay okay!”, you coughed, whatever concoction she made had your throat on fire! like satan himself done came and dropped an atomic bomb. after recovering, you snatched your phone off the charger to check the time, it read 10:30 PM. “alright hurry y’all ass up, we gotta leave in 15 minutes!”, you exclaimed before going to check yourself out in the mirror. 

twisting your body around in the reflection to get a good look of tonight’s fit, you felt like the baddest bitch alive. them other hoes at the function have no chance when they see you pop out! was that rude? nah, its okay to get a lil competitive. cause who gon outshine you? …… y’all hear crickets? right, the answer is no one. 

“come over here y’all!”, you said while pulling out your phone and opening instagram. the three of you posed in front of the full wall mirror, taking cute flics and boomerangs to add to your story. once done you fluffed out your hair one last time, ready to get this show on the mothafuckin road! 

…

you and your homegirls pulled up to the frat house, bass booted music blasting loud as hell, you coulda sworn you saw the brick tremble. giving each other one last fit check up, y’all step into the party and let’s just say, you most definitely were going to pop yo shit, it’s lit as fuck up in here! there’s people jumping to the music, some off playing beer pong, some doing some shit they prolly wouldn’t want their mama seeing them do.. 

“aye! let’s go, we ain’t come here to watch!”, utahime yelled as she dragged you into the middle of the room where people were dancing or whatever in the hell you wanna call it. some people look like they’re doing jumping jacks instead but to each their own..! shoko waved y’all off before dipping for the drink table, already planning how y'alls night was gonna go. 

when she returned, you and utahime both eyed the glasses in her hands suspiciously. 

“what? y’all not tryna turn up?”, she asked in an appalled tone. you shook your head and took a glass from her, sniffing it before gulping it down — scrunching your face after. 

“girl what the hell you put in here??”, you exclaimed, sticking out your tongue in disgust. “it doesn’t matter what’s in it as long as it gets me drunk!”, shoko added rather quickly before going to dance with the crowd. “sho, you the only one to say some bullshit like that”, you yelled over the music with a giggle, following after her with utahime right behind you. 

y’all popped y’all shit for a bit, screaming lyrics at the top of your lungs and throwin a lot bit of ass when a real hype song hit the speakers. “yo, it’s getting hot as hell up in here!”, you said over the music but your dumbass homegirls were in too deep to hear you. you shimmied your way out of the crowd and walked over to the kitchen, needing something to cool you off like another drink some water. 

as you start pourin up, you feel something burning into your back, prolly another jealous hoe staring — why wouldn’t they? preparing yourself to tell someone off, you turn around but your words catch in your mouth when you peep who’s eyeing you. 

there he was, satoru fucking gojo. you’d heard things about him but never seen him around campus, let alone been to one of his parties. seeing him in person instead of on socials was a whole other sight. he was tall, lean, absolutely gorgeous in the face. no wonder he’s so known, his face card earns it! 

clearing your thoughts, you slowly sip your drink, eyeing him back. no words, no actions, just the two of you playing eye tag. he shifts positions, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a subtle smirk on his face — his eyes trailed up and down, studying your figure a few times like you were a damn textbook. you let him stare, you know you’re bad as fuck so why pass up the opportunity? expecting him to say something, you tilt your head before stiffening — did this ho just walk off?? 

rewind. remuthafuckinwind. he gave you one last glance before disappearing back into the crowd, leaving you confused and a tad bit irritated. this nigga think he hot shit? well he is but he ain’t bout to act like that with you! now that you’ve encountered him once, you know what to expect and two can play at this game.

© seishroo | much love ꨄ

credits to @/_3aem on twt for the pic of gojo heh

[cupidsworstcrime]

following this up with more freeport lore actually. the world should know.

it has some awesome ass mexican food. like. legit. none of that fake tex-mex chain restaurant bullshit with the soggy tortillas and ground beef that tastes like sadness.

i’m talking real-deal food trucks tucked behind gas stations, taqueros grilling meat outside of carnicerías, abuelas running kitchens out of trailers that have probably never passed a health inspection but you will GLADLY risk it all because the tacos are that good.

the kind of tacos that make you stop mid-bite and reevaluate your life. meat so tender it falls apart, tortillas hot and handmade, salsa that could either bless you or send you into cardiac arrest. you see god. you see every mistake you’ve ever made. you understand unconditional love.

AND THE LITTLE OLD LADIES. bro. the tamale hustle down there is unmatched. like you’ll be in a parking lot or someone’s tia will just casually knock on your door with a cooler full of heaven and ask, “quieres tamales?” and you’re like “sure how much?” and they hit you with 50 for $20 and suddenly you’re questioning the entire economy.

like ma’am. that’s handmade masa. that’s hours of prep. that’s a generational recipe. those are steamed bundles of joy crafted with ancestral precision. and you’re selling them for less than a dollar each?? are you okay?? are we okay???

and they’re always the best tamales you’ve ever had in your life. you eat one and immediately want to go lie in the grass and feel the earth. the pork ones melt. the cheese ones stretch like god intended. the sweet ones??? spiritual experience. literally communion.

capitalism could never replicate this magic.

more lore below the cut but tw for police violence and police related deaths

we got one freeport cop who tackled a blind and deaf lady like he was playing linebacker in the super bowl. like??? how do you mess up that bad? how are you so unhinged on the job that you look at a harmless, disabled woman and think “yeah let me go full WWE real quick.”

absolutely no one liked him. still don’t. not even his coworkers, probably. that dude’s name comes up and it’s just immediate eye rolls and “fuck that guy.” like. he somehow managed to capture the entire vibe of law enforcement failure in one move.

textbook example of why nobody trusts the cops around here. power-tripping in a town that has maybe two traffic lights and more raccoons than stop signs. calm down bro.

freeport cops fucking suck, dude. like not even in the “haha small town donut patrol” way. i mean rotten. my aunt was shot over 8 times by out-of-uniform officers. why? because her EX boyfriend had warrants. not her. him. and they claimed they “thought she was armed.”

she wasn’t. you know what she was doing? calling 911 because there were RANDOM FUCKING MEN, out of uniform, threatening her outside. how the fuck was she supposed to know they were cops? they looked like any other group of assholes trying to intimidate a woman alone.

and instead of talking to her, instead of identifying themselves like literally every procedure says they’re supposed to, they just unloaded on her. no warning. no attempt at de-escalation. just trigger-happy cowards with no accountability.

and then they didn’t even offer condolences. not a single “we’re sorry.” not a letter. not a statement. nothing. just shrugged their shoulders and said “she should’ve complied :/”

complied with WHO??? she didn’t even know who the fuck they were. they didn’t look like cops, didn’t act like cops, and they sure as hell didn’t protect or serve anything except their own asses. they took her from us and acted like it was just another day at work.

fuck freeport pd. for real. corrupt, careless, and completely incapable of admitting when they’re wrong. they’ll protect each other before they protect you.

HELLO I AM FROM TEXAS AND I WANT TO TEACH A THING!!!

okay so like. i grew up where the treaty of velasco was signed. like the one that ended the texas revolution in 1836 after the battle of san jacinto, where texas officially told mexico “we’re done, we’re vibing alone now.” sam houston had santa anna sign it (by force, i actually lived on the street he was held prisoner), and it basically made texas its own country for a hot second. and you’d think, wow! what a big historical moment! surely this sacred land is preserved and remembered, right?

nah. the place isn’t even called velasco anymore. it’s just freeport now. yeah. freeport. or surfside beach, depending on who you ask. if you know, you know. it’s full of tweakers, the air smells like straight-up ass thanks to the chemical plants (FUCK YOU DOW & MIKEN), and it’s treated like the unwanted middle child of texas history. nobody ever talks about it unless it’s to say something racist or complain about the humidity.

and like. i’m not even patriotic. i’m not out here waving flags or anything. but the fact that this is where texas became texas and it’s basically a footnote? that shit pisses me off. like. the literal birthplace of the "republic of texas" and it’s just...vibing in obscurity under a cloud of sulfur and broken dreams. justice for velasco tbh.

*blows a smoke from the cigar i held*

Freeport.. huh 👁️👁️

I have.. complicated relationship with them *clenches fist* (theyre ruining Papua, many tribal people literally sailed to the capital to protest because the freeport ruining the forest)

Also, that sounds so sucky >:( i'd.. riot 🧍

[alevolpe]

#What these pieces represent to me and what they made me feel while drawing them and what they make me feel even now // sorry if this is a bit too intrusive but I love picking your brain on sailor moon because it's so big and beautiful and takes it places I never even began to imagine. can I know your thoughts on this for the Pluto one? it's so haunting and forlorn and piercing. thank you so so much!!!

This ask is referring to this Pluto art I did a while back and the tags I put under a recent reblog of it.

I’m not exaggerating when I say Pluto does genuinely scare me, she’s the only sm character that has ever made me feel uneasy and tbf to her, it’s not really anything she did or said or even how she looks, but more what she stands and what I picture her representing.

In a way Pluto to me is the uncertainty of existence and its inevitable end. Yes, she technically only asssociated with time but time itself is such an existentially dreadful concept to me. We know nothing about it, and that’s honestly the way I started seeing Pluto, an unknown.

At the time I made this gif I was doing a series of senshi/civilian illustrations and when it came to Pluto, I got so invested in Pluto herself, Setsuna was almost an afterthought.

My interpretation of the character is VERY different, not only from canon, but from most of people’s fanon as well. Sestuna doesn’t really matter to me in my canon, she’s a non factor. That does not mean I dislike her, quite the opposite, but to me a character so much “larger than life” is impossible to “humanize” the way the original story did. Pluto is not Setsuna, Pluto is not human, Pluto is just Pluto.

(Which leads me to a lil fun fact about the original gif that no1 has ever noticed before lol. The original blinking gif spells the message “Just Pluto” in morse code.)

My main idea for Pluto here was “she’s standing quite elegantly, but she looks quite unnerving and eerie. She’s hunching over slightly, given her quite statuesque stature. Is she offering you something, perhaps welcoming you to her gates? Is she hiding something?”

These are all questions that sparked in my mind when thinking about this Pluto illustration. They seem meaningless and just ramblings (which they kind of are), but they all tie to my main concept of Pluto and what she has come to represent to me.

[5hark-byt3]

Doodle dump except it’s clear which interest is in the driver’s seat rn

[mint-mumbles]

Gonna make a list of queer characters that don’t outright state their queerness because a certain group of people complaining about the handling of a certain character’s arc from a certain game is pissing me off

“They didn’t make her say she was trans so that means that they’re giving us a ‘fuck you’/we need confirmation or it isn’t valid and transphobes will be transphobic/they’re queerbaiting!”

Shut the fuck up

The fact that we’re even at this point is a miracle in itself and needing every character to explicitly say their orientation and/or gender identity shows how ignorant you are, not just regarding media literacy, but also on queer history

By your myopic lens you’re discrediting a lot of queer characters that didn’t and/or couldn’t outright say that they’re queer

Characters shouldn’t have to outright say their orientation and/or gender identity for you to consider them “good rep”

That perspective is ridiculously narrow minded and downplays the importance of previous queer characters that helped pave the way to where we are now

Update: Here it is!

[vile-wizard]

Finally watched the MLB London special.

[courtillyy]

dude i fucking love prue so much. actually devastated that she only gets three seasons

[thewingedwolf]

me: i feel like at every library i've worked out, there's been a patron or two that are clearly struggling with alcohol but aren't quite seeking help. do you have any suggestions for that situation? speaker: well the program is voluntary. me: yeah, but i mean...what do we do in these situations? speaker: if they aren't reaching out, nothing.

[anxi04]

tim meeting lex at a gala when he’s young. he knows lex is a villain but he’s also the only vaguely smart person there and he has a look of disgust every time someone says anything remotely dumb, which tim relates to SO much.

meanwhile lex seeing this kid who is so clearly going to be a supervillain when he grows older and quite honestly this child scares him a little. so he indulges him just enough to be on his good side. lex just about has a heart attack when tim off handedly mentions one of lex’s very secret, only 6 people know about it and 5 of them are hidden away and can’t see their family because of what they know, project.

every time they see each other at a gala there’s just a sense of “oh thank god someone smart is here” and spend half the time politely shit talking the idiots

cut to 17 yo tim drake (never aging again) and he just. shows up in lexs house one day like “give me the blessing to marry kon and i’ll tell you the absolutely groundbreaking gossip i just found out about rebecca” he gets his blessing without lex even questioning it. he knows tim drake is red robin anyway who else would be able to? he is a little disappointed he went the hero route but out of all heroes red robin is closest to becoming a supervillain anyway so it’s fine

lex however does not know any of the other batfams identity. brucie wayne is a fucking idiot who can’t tie his shoes (lex watches him stuff the laces in his shoes once) dick grayson is a Cop(negative), jason todd is dead, stephanie brown is the daughter of a villain and would probably want to be as far away from that life as possible, damian wayne he could buy as robin but there’s no way anyone biologically related to brucie could be even remotely competent, duke thomas seems too normal, and he can find nothing on cass wayne except she seems too sweet. besides tim’s competent enough to hide his identity from his family. especially the wayne family.

[valeisaslut]

Ellie Calvin ad buuuutttt hear me out…Reader lingerie ad, or like maybe another Calvin ad but with her pleaseibegu

FINAL POST OF THE NIGHT NONNIES PLEASE STOP I HAVE CLASS TMR AND THESE REQS ARE SO MF GOOD😭😭

BUT, IMAGINE THIS:

your victoria’s secret ad drops at 9am sharp on a tuesday and no one survives. you’re in red lace lingerie—custom made, obviously—thigh-high stockings, garter straps, heels tall enough to make god weep. there’s a velvet chaise lounge. a single red rose. lipgloss so shiny the cameraman slips trying to zoom in. you give the camera one look and say, “tell me what i deserve… or show me.”

it ends with a shot where you roll over onto your stomach and it fades into black. there’s a voiceover of you laughing. somewhere in the background, violins are playing but it’s also kinda sexy trap music.

the entire internet short circuits. victoria’s secret stocks sell out. teens are skipping school. grown adults are fighting in the comments. entire religious groups issue statements.

and ellie?? ellie completely loses her goddamn mind.

she comments from her verified, 170M followers account:

“i’m gonna bite those garter straps off with my teeth and then thank god for letting me be alive at the same time as you.”

“if you don’t wear this home i’m breaking into the warehouse and biting every single mannequin until they call the cops.”

“this ad made me crash my car, black out, and astral project directly into hell. saw satan. he said ‘i get it.’”

“that chaise lounge? i’m gonna stain it with sin. with DEVASTATION. with activities not approved by the federal government.”

“if i don’t see you in this by tonight i’m gonna walk into the ocean. with bricks in my pockets. and a girl boner.”

“gonna leave handprints on your ass so hard victoria herself comes back from the dead to rebrand the whole company.”

“you just single-handedly ended my PR training. my dignity. and my will to act normal in public.”

her finsta posts a blurry pic of the ad playing on her tour bus TV with the caption “i am not okay. she should be arrested. or married. to me. idk. i’m spiraling.”

you post a BTS pic and she comments:

“i just threw my phone across the room. it bounced. still horny.”

and the public?? completely unhinged. stan twitter changes your name to “THE Victoria’s Secret.”

a fan account makes a full edit of you and ellie using only footage from this ad and ellie’s calvin klein one with the caption “hottest couple on human HISTORY.” it gets 8M likes in an hour. the comments are completely horny and unhinged. to say the least.

your PR team tries to play it cool but rachel is foaming at the mouth backstage like, “you CANNOT comment back saying you’re gonna bite her hipbone like a peach. this is PUBLIC.”

but you do.

and ellie reposts it to stories with: “biting scheduled. 7:30pm. i'll prep the strap.”

[rosepinks-world]

DUDE! SHE LIKES YOU BACK

spencer reid x fem! reader

synopsis: in which reader has returned from a field injury and Spencer surprises her.

Being shot wasn’t the badass experience all those cop shows made it out to be. It hurt, like a bitch and the recovery made you feel weak and useless. You werent allowed to work and were limited to doing paperwork from home.

However, today was the first day Hotch had allowed you to come into the office and work. Everything remained the same, the vending machine in the hall still required a good kick for it to actually give up the food inside, the ladies bathroom still had that one out of order stall and all your employees hadn’t changed one bit.

The thing that did catch you by surprise was the sight of beautiful spasms of colour put into a glass full of water.

Flowers.

They looked way too particular to be the generic $5 bouquet that had been bought from a supermarket. There were pink tulips, a few stems of lavender, peonies and a delicate sunflower in the middle of them all and the stems were wrapped in a white bow which was now drenched into the water but was further proof for its individuality.

You took a seat at your desk picking up the flowers and inspecting them closely, an attempt to see if anyone had left a note- a clear sign as to who sent them but your question was soon answered when a familiar voice sounded behind you.

“Oh! Do you like them?”

Spencer.

Before you could even say anything to him he started rambling

“I read up about botany and found out many believe that pink tulips symbolise affection and care, lavender represents healing and that peonies present good luck.” He paused his explanation by pulling his lips into one of his straight lined smile and nodding his head nervously.

“Oh! And the sunflower was just because I thought it looked pretty and you have Van Goughs portrait in your apartment.”

You smiled laughing at the clear thought he put into them. He looked like he want to say something else but you interrupted him by pulling him into a hug pressing your head into his neck. He seemed surprised at the hug but willingly reciprocated and wrapped his arms around your lower back. You both ignored the wolf whistle clearly made by Derek.

“Thank you, Spence, they’re beautiful.”

He blushed at the gratitude, “It’s the least I could do after your injury. Speaking of can I help you with anything?”

You laughed sitting down, ”God no. Thank you. But seriously, everyone is making this way big of a deal than it actually is. I’m not running a marathon I’m just writing files.”

He laughed again the blush still evident on his cheeks. You stood up and announced you would be right back - fleeing to grab more files from Hotch. The coworkers who saw all began heckling Spencer at what just happened.

“My man! Who knew pretty boy had this much game?” Derek hollered slapping Spencer’s back. Whilst Penelope almost jumped up and down in delight. “Oh my god they’re gonna have baby geniuses.”

“Garcia I gave her flowers not an engagement ring.” Spencer stated.

“Who’s getting an engagement ring?” Emily asked finally arriving for work.

“Nobody…yet” Penelope answered wiggling her eyebrows and walking back to her lair.

Spencer was so pleased with himself but a question Emily asked made his blood run cold.

“Yikes! Who got L/N flowers?”

“Me. Why? Is that a problem? Oh god is she allergic? I should have known!”

“No it’s just she hates flowers. I offered to get her some after she told me her had cat passed but she told me not to and that although she was grateful she couldn’t imagine a worse gift.”

Spencer’s eyes were practically gouging out of his head with anxiety and Derek couldn’t help but laugh as he joined the two.

Spencer looked between them rapidly and stuttered out, “What? But she gave me a hug and said they were beautiful? Do, do you think she lied?”

Emily raised her eyebrows mouth opening as she let out a knowing laugh. Derek looked at her and soon reacted similarly.

“What?” Spencer asked growing annoyed feeling like a child being left out of a game by their peers.

Derek offered an explanation. “You know how you’re a germaphobe but had no problem making out with Lila Archer that one time in the pool?”

Spencer blushed with embarrassment, “Why do you always bring that up?”

Emily rolled her eyes brushing him off and added to the point. “Spencer I think this is one of those situations.”

He furrowed his eyebrows confused. And Emily leaned in waiting for him to get it. His brows remained furrowed as he spoke again.“I don’t get it. Is this supposed to mean something?”

Derek rolled his eyes all concepts of being subtle gone out of the window.

“Dude! She likes you back.”

[briarscreek]

You had a blind date. On Valentine’s Day.

And they didn’t show up.

You had never felt so stupid in your life. Apparently, the only free day that you and your date had was on Friday. February 14th. Go figure.

The waiter had already come by 3 times to ask if you were ready to order or if you were going to leave. They didn’t say specifically to leave but you got the gist. Another person to take up their time and tips.

Frustrated tears began in the corner of your eyes while you packed your belongings, eager to get out of the humiliation of other couples stares and the cheap paper heart decor lining the restaurant.

This guy your friend set you up with seemed perfect. On paper at least. Kind, funny, flirty, and more is what she promised you.

It wasn’t until you were almost standing out of your booth that a very handsome man in a suit strode over in a huff. Mutton chopped beard and biceps for days, as he looked you in the eyes. God, his eyes were so blue.

“I apologize darling, I came straight from work and traffic was a nightmare.”

He kissed your cheeks quickly like an old friend.

“I wanted to message ya, but I didn’t think the cops would appreciate someone texting and driving on Valentine’s Day.”

Maybe that softened your heart. Just a little.

“You’re almost 45 minutes late.”

“It’ll be the first and last time I’ll ever be late, darling.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face slowly that time.

John, as he introduced himself, was kinder than you thought he’d be. Flirty at just the right moments and careful with his words, like he wanted to make sure you knew he meant every single word.

The date went amazingly well, he even made you giggle so much that you snorted and immediately felt embarrassed about it. He said he’d take that as a compliment as he pulled your hands away from your mouth.

Just as desert rolled around, you excused yourself to the bathroom and texted your friend, lettering her know you’re having an amazing time with John. Her next text came in just as you finished washing your hands.

who’s john?

Coming back to sit down at the booth, you immediately asked;

“You’re not my actual blind date, are you?”

He stopped mid chew of his chocolate torte, gaze flicking up to yours. Like a kid caught in a cookie jar.

“No, darling. I’m not. I actually had a take out order here but when I saw the prettiest bird in my life alone at a table, I couldn’t leave her.”

Your anger rose just a tad.

“So this was a pity date.”

“No.” He was so firm in his answer.

“I’d have asked you out anywhere if we crossed paths earlier but you were already dressed, sitting here waiting. I couldn’t pass on this golden opportunity, could I?”

Now you were glad that your actual date never showed up. John proved to be so much better, in more ways than one.

[coldilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Prologue- Dead mom

______________________________

You woke up as a baby, daughter of a waitress and some unknown guy, your grandmother (mom's mom) kept telling you that you were weighing her daughter's life down, whatever, that old hag died a few months after you were born

It was bad enough that you were born poor, it's the fact that you were born poor in GOTHAM

Fake Mom was a waitress and she worked with a catering job, at one of her jobs, at a charity gala with some rich people, she had sex with a rich dude there, she didn't know she was pregnant and you were a surprise

But it didn't matter, you were hers and she loved you, she didn't have much to give you because you were poor, but what little thing she had, she gave to you

That meant nothing to you, she wasn't your actual mom, your real mom had a nice crib for you to sleep in, not some moldy probably a 4th hand one, your real mom took time off her work to properly take care of you, not put you in a baby carrier and bring you to jobs like cashier, janitress and other stuff

She wasn't your actual mom.

You didn't care, you're not supposed to care.

You were merely 6 months old, at your crib, you were trying to sleep, key word. Try, but your fake mom's cries were too loud, you didn't understand her anguish, it was just a fever, you've had fevers before, why is your fake mom freaking out about your fever now

"I'm so sorry my baby... Mommy can't afford to buy the medicine-" she stops as she hears your heavy breathing, you are struggling to breathe "mommy is very selfish... If I gave you to your dad, he could get you the medicine, maybe you wouldn't get sick at all- but that would mean you are away from mommy- I'm really sorry baby.... I'll work harder"

She took a wet cloth and placed it on your forehead, she hung her head low and cried

You thought she was being dramatic, all this crying for a fever?

______________________________

Now you're 6, you don't know if fake mommy is stupid or what but there's no light and the electric fan stopped spinning, there was only one fan in your apartment, did she forget to pay the electric bill or... Did you guys not have enough money, you can't ask her that because fake mommy is at work, who leaves a 6 year old at home!?

If fake mommy can't pay, you'll do something about it, you were not going to spend a hot night without a fan, you go to explore and you grab some wild flowers off the streets and tie them with long leaves, then you sell

You forgot to leave a note.

When you get home, there's cops, your fake mom is crying and she sees you, she runs to hug "God! (Name) Where did- did you go, I- was so worried!" She cried and sobbed, the cops went away after some time

You hand her 12 dollars "I sold flowers, 2 dollars a bouquet, the lights went out, so I sold, we don't have any money to pay right?"

Your fake mom smiles at you, "my thoughtful baby... Mommy just forgot to pay because... Mommy enrolled you in school!" She said excitedly,You raised your eyebrows "how much money do we have? Won't we go bankrupt?"

But your fake mom is crazy because she just laughs and hugs you

You hated being poor, being poor means you get bullied, it means you can't buy the stuff you want, it means using stuff someone else already used, it means your lunch would also be your dinner

You hated it

Because it also meant being looked down on, being the smartest kid in class (ofc) means nothing if your school bag had holes and patched up, it meant sometimes you'll see other kids your age buy something you wanted

It didn't matter, you could make do, you avoided being bullied and actually became popular by showing off, you landed bottle flips, you could do a handstand, needless to say, you were definitely invited to birthday parties, plus you were smart and well-behaved, parents and teachers love you, it didn't matter if you brought a present or not, all that matters is your presence

And when your birthday rolled around, the kids got used to the fact you were too poor to hold a birthday party, that didn't matter to them, to those kids and parents, you were the kindest person they've ever met, so they gave you presents, at first you tried to refuse (because you were ashamed you couldn't give them anything that's not handmade to their parties) but they insisted

Your fake mom was always busy, with so many jobs, she couldn't attend all award ceremonies and PTC's

You just won for the best science project in the fair (despite having the least resources), you were fine with fake mom not being able to attend the award ceremony, she was out cleaning someone's house after all

"where is her mom?"

"I don't know, but that poor kid, she's so sweet and smart, I feel bad that she has a mother like that"

"I heard (Name)'s mother got pregnant with (Name) while she was at college, thank God that (Name) won't end up like her, how could such a talented girl end up with a mother like that? She couldn't even attend her own daughter's award ceremony"

"the mom is probably off somewhere sucking someone's dick, if she gets pregnant again, I hope the kid takes after (Name)"

"(Name)! Sweetheart! Mommy's here! Oh sorry I'm late, I was at work" you fake mom smiles as she runs at you, she looks at your blue ribbon and hugs you "You're so smart baby! Mommy is so proud"

______________________________

You're 8 and you earn 5 dollars for every lawn you cut grass for, some of the people even give you snacks! You're already an entrepreneur! You smile to yourself, you weren't going to be like your fake mom, you were going to be rich, so maybe you and fake mom can get out of the cockroach infested house and fake mom won't work for an awful manager who hits on her and she won't clean toilets just so the both of you have something to eat

You come home with 40 dollars, you plan to give 30 to your fake mom for the bills and you keep 10 as a reward, but when you open the door your met with a bang

A bang from a party popper "Happy birthday my sweetheart!" Fake mom says

You look at the cake and decorations, you sigh, the money out in this could have been used for groceries

Your fake mom seemed to read your mind "Oh hush my baby, it's only once a year! Plus this is nothing to what you do for my birthday!"

That's a lie, your fake mommy is lying, your birthday decorations for her were handmade by you and her cake was just a muffin because you couldn't afford something more expensive, your birthdays were much more grander than hers

You give her the 30 dollars, you try to give her, but it seemed to make her sad, he smile wore off

Did you do something? Shouldn't she be happy? You were providing and helping!

"I'm sorry you think you have to do this my baby... You should be playing outside- not- not working, I want you to be a kid! Don't work anymore okay?"

But you're not a kid okay! You're reincarnated! And your previous life was much better than now!

So your fake mom should just let you help! Because you're trying to make things easier for her, why won't she let you help!?

But you keep it all to yourself and you and your fake mommy celebrate your fake birthday

______________________________

You're 10, and your fake mom seems... Weaker?? Is that how you put it? Her eye bags seem darker and her skin looks paler, you don't like this look from her, your fake mom is a pretty woman, who would have married good if it weren't for you, nevermind

You don't want your fake mom getting ugly, so every 9:00 pm you crash into her work place and you don't care if she still needs to keep on working and her shift ends at 9:30, your fake mom needs sleep! Someone else can cover for her

It's her birthday when she starts coughing, she starts coughing bad. The sounds were coarse and harsh, it hurt to even hear the coughs, you didn't want to know how it felt like

She grabs a tissue and coughs into it, you're sure you saw blood

Usually you're a master of minding their own business, but this time you rummage, you rummage through your mom's fake mom's room, and you find it, doctor appointments, medical certificates (when did she even go to the hospital!?), fake mom is sick, really sick, why didn't she tell you???

When your fake mom gets home, you show her what you found, instead of confronting you she acts like it's nothing, you get mad, of course you do, why wouldn't you?

"Mom are you crazy? Why didn't you tell me? The bill is huge? And why would you keep on working!? Did you forget what a sick person does? They rest!" You cry yell

She just smiled at you??? Is this woman crazy? "What was I supposed to do? Sweetheart, these things are for me okay? Don't worry about it, I'll be fine... Did you do your homework? If you haven't I can help you"

"I did... Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I want you to pull me out of school" you say

"what why? Are you being bullied? You can tell me"

"No I'm not! If you pull me out of school, instead of worrying about my tuition, you could just pay for your medical bills and actually buy yourself some medicine and get better!"

Fake mom turns silent "You don't have to do that"

"it's the only way! We can't afford both my school and your hospital bills! Mom! Your health is much more important than some certificates! And while I'm out of school I can work as well, even though I get paid a little, money is still money I can give to you-"

"NO! A mother's job is to provide for their kids and your my kid! You don't have to go to work, you don't have to stop going to school, you don't have to think about whether you'll be able to eat tommorow and the day after that, you're a kid! You're my baby! Stop worrying about me and instead, worry about boys you like or girls you like, worry about— I want you to be a kid"

You clench your fists "How can I be!?!? You think I don't hear you!? You come home when I'm supposedly asleep so you can cry about not being able to give a better life, I can hear you! I hear everything! You hate that your manager flirts with you! You hate that the mother's at school talks about you! You hate that I'm the only kid in school who can't afford a birthday party!, I'm trying to help! I can bring in money! I tutor, I babysit, I mow lawns, I can do more if I'm out of school!" At this point you're crying

Fake mom has never yelled at you, never. Whenever you get mad she hugs you and kisses you forehead, why is she yelling at you, you just want what's best for her

______________________________

You didn't care, after school you took on more jobs, you even started doing your classmate's homework and homework from higher and lower grades for money

Fake mom's medicine... It was expensive, that didn't matter, you'll work harder, you were so tired

You started selling bread for a family bakery who felt bad for you, that kind of money doesn't come up in thin air

But you were going to try

And you did, you really did, you did whatever you could

You and fake mom had another argument when you found out she got life insurance and placed you as the sole beneficiary

Fake mom's illness got so bad that she had to quit her jobs because she didn't have the strength to even walk, the amount of blood that comes out every time she coughs kept increasing

You stopped going to school to work more, you started to sweep and mop up for local grocery stores, the owner being a dad of one of your classmates

You knew your mom wouldn't approve, so you fed her with fake science fairs, fake school plays you had to practice for so she wouldn't get suspicious why you returned home late

"Don't stay out so late sweetheart, the riddler just escaped Arkham" your fake mom would warn you with a hint of love in her voice

If you could just make it work, even for half of the money you need, maybe you could put a down payment, and they'd give you the medicine and you'll pay them back later

So why wasn't your fake mom waking up?

You got home, after grueling hours of painting fences, you plan to tell your fake mom that you were just painting some backdrops for a school play

"Mommy?" You call out, you expect your fake mom to be either watching on a broken down TV or probably sewing some of your clothes with holes on them

It's eerie quiet, a quiet you don't like "Mama?" You see her in a chair, asleep and eyes closed

Is she that tired? "Mommy, do you want noodles? I'll make some?"

....

.........

"Mommy?"

You shake her body trying to wake her

Nothing.

"Mommy?"

Your heart drops "No... No. No. No. No. No. No... No!" You keep shaking and shaking her but nothing, it was then you notice her lips have gone horrifyingly pale

"no.. this- this- help! Someone help us please!" You yell trying to call your neighbors, someone, anyone!

______________________________

"I'm sorry kid, Your mom's gone, we'll try to find any other relatives you have" the police officer looks at you with pity

"I don't have any relatives left" you say

You're not going to cry, why would you? She wasn't your real mom, she- she....

Fuck, now you're crying, you're doing what you said you wouldn't do

The officer knelt to you and hugged you "We'll find you another loving family, one that will buy you toys and-"

"I don't want another loving family! I want my mommy! I want my mom" you cry

"it's okay... Everything is going to be okay" he pats your back

After a few days at the orphanage, the news came, everyone was shocked, a few staff who got attached to you were happy you'll be with someone who could provide, a few staff who also got attached to you angry that he abandoned such a sweet girl, a DNA match to the one and only Bruce Wayne, that man is your father.

You stand In front of doors a hundred times bigger than you, you see him- no you see them.

The infamous Wayne family, all in their glory

"Father, will it stay with us permanently" Damian asks

Dick the older one laughed and responded "Unfortunately for her, she will stay here"

Holy shit, you think

Holy shit.

Is this? No it can't be...

You refuse to believe you reincarnated in a Batfam x neglected reader story- surely not-

Welcome Reader! To the Neglected AU!

Prologue: dead mom- finished

Progress:100%

Chapter 1: "I wished I stayed at the orphanage"- start!

Progress: 0%

The screen appears In front of you

"Fuck" you whisper

______________________________

Alr so technically this is the prologue, "yes" won Soo...

Also goodbye mom

My ass wrote this with a fever, while playing chess with my cousin, I'm built diff like that

Also I won, if you want pics of the chessboard and the thermometer I'll provide🔥

[teaboot]

I seriously hope you can job hop to something else cause you're not chaotic neutral man.

You're still a white Canadian whose actions and job help more the megacorps keep the status quo.

I really looked up to you but that's on me.

And yeah, I know security, cop shit and military pay good money but at the cost of my people? Fuck no.

Listen. I feel you. But there's a lot of cold, power-tripping bastards in this line of work and if I stick where I am then they don't get to have that.

I'm not a cop. I am not beholden to the justice system. Sometimes I get contracted out to people who say shit like "addicts should be put down, if you see any crackheads drag them out" and I nod and say "yes sir", and then I take their money and use it to buy those people coffee and a sandwich and tell 'em when free lunch days are at the church.

Boss sees me walking with someone and thinks I'm kicking them out, gives my boss great reviews. I'm having a great conversation with Connie, who used to by a stylist and wound up on the street after an accident that left her with chronic pain and a heroin addiction. Connie learns that there's a gap between two property lines nearby where technically nobody can call to have her removed.

There's a really sweet guy in town who's normally very nice, but sometimes flies into paranoid rage and yells slurs at people. Sometimes he forgets he's been banned from places and wanders in looking for a wife he hasn't had for nine years. Owner sends me to kick him out, and I ask "hey Mike, how are you?" And see where we are today.

One time there was a guy whose abusive ex kept following him to work, and I got to walk him to his car at the end of every day to make sure she couldn't get him alone.

Another person had a stalker who kept asking receptionists when she was gonna be there, when she was supposed to leave, if she was in today. I'd keep record of every time he came in, every time someone saw him, every time he violated his restraining order or damaged her things.

And when I wonder if I'm actually helping or not, or if I'm part of the greater problem, I remember that other people who work with me call homeless people wildlife and talk about how bad they wanna get an excuse to fight someone and I remember that I'm the one who knows where the blind spots on the cameras are, and thank God it's not him.

My position is fundamentally different from that of the military or law enforcement. I don't *need* to be buddy-buddy with most of these dickheads- I don't *need* to send people into the justice system.

I do single-person foot patrol. Nobody cares how I get the job done. They say, "Hey, faceless goon number three- make that bastard disappear" and I say "on it, boss" and give him tickets to disney world.

I once asked another guard if he knew that one of our regulars used to be an airplane technician. He said, "No, I don't talk to them". Blanket "Them". "Them" as in street people. "Them" as in addicts, or shoplifters, or ex-cons, or sex workers.

I asked why, and he told me, "it's easier if you don't think of them as people."

Anyhow, now I get calls to "watch that sketchy lady who just came in" and I say, "yes, sir" and leave her the fuck alone, 'cause that's Jolene, and people always think she's on drugs and aggressive but she's just deaf in one ear and slurs cause she has brain damage, you dickhead

so yeah, don't worry, I've spent a lot of time weighing the pros and cons of my vocation, and I still think I'd rather be in charge of my locations than someone like Darryl, who dreams of "cuffing a perp" and drives a car with Punisher decals on the hood

Also it's minimum wage but that's kinda tangential

[frombookstoretobookstore]

Hi! I absolutely love your Jack Abott fics!! You’d are a wonderful writer! I was wondering if you would consider doing a jealous Jack fic? 😁

Aw thank you! Of course! I've had one in the works since I put out a poll. Enjoy!

Jealousy Looks Good On You

Summary: Jealous Abbot is quite possessive and isn't afraid to show it at work, or in the elevator ;) T/W: Bit steamy, Abbot isn't afraid to touch what's his. Masterlist

“You keep that Abbot furrow up you’ll burst a blood vessel.” Robby laughs from where he’s leaned against the nurses’ station.

Jack doesn’t answer, his jaw creaks as his teeth grind together. He can feel the headache starting to form behind his eyes from where his gaze is trained on you. A growl almost forms in his chest when he watches your eyes sparkle as you laugh at what one of the cops says. He can feel his nails digging into his palm as his fists clench.

“Seriously, Abbot.” Robby knocks his shoulders against Jack’s, breaking him out of his trance. “What has gotten into you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jack says as he turns to his friend, willing a smile to his face. It drops as soon as he hears you laugh again, his scowl back as he turns towards your direction.

“I see lover boy is at it again.” Dana scoffs, patting Jack’s shoulder as she walks past him to drop off her bag as her shift starts.

“Some days I think the only security we need is to protect some of these guys against Abbot.” Robby smirks at the glare Jack sends him.

“Abbot, she’s just talking, cool your jets!” Dana says harshly, causing Jack to look down at his shoes. 

Jack’s irritation peaks when he sees the cop touch your elbow, his vision pinpoints on the contact between the two of you. 

His feet move before his brain can stop them, carrying him across the room toward you. He can hear Robby’s voice calling after him, but it’s just background noise compared to the storm brewing in his chest. By the time he’s standing a few feet away, he notes the faint flush on your cheeks as you clock his movement.

“Just finished with a consult, sorry to keep you waiting.” His smile is predatory as he leans in, pressing a kiss to your hairline. His hands instinctively pull you into his side as he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Anyway, let me know if you hear anything on it, I’m sure the rig will show up sometime.” Y/n waves as Jack is practically dragging her back to the nurses’ station, his only intent to pull you back unto his world, under his gaze and protection.

Dana snorts from behind her hand, clearly unimpressed with Jack’s attitude. He shoots her a look sharp enough to cut glass. You roll your eyes as even Robby is having to bite his lip to withhold his laughter.

“I guess we’re headed out.” Y/n says, raising her eyebrows in annoyance. She looks up to Jack who still has a hand on her waist. “Am I allowed to say goodbye or are you going to hulk out again?” He rolls his eyes with a huff; he leans back against the counter as you gather your things, his gaze sweeping across the room like a bodyguard looking for threats.

“He isn’t a man of sharing; the man covets peanut M&M’s like a kid at Halloween.” Robby laughs, rolling his eyes as he feels the bite of Jack’s gaze. 

Y/n barely has her things gathered before Jack is ushering them out of the ED; she calls out a parting goodbye as he stomps them out through the ambulance bay. He’s livid when he watches her shoot a sarcastic salute to the cop she had been talking to earlier.

Once out of ear shot, he winces as he feels her rally to call him out. “Jack, what the actual fuck?!”

“He was flirting with you.” He grunts, clearly still in full blown protective mode.

You grab his wrist to halt him, making him turn his broody gaze down to you. You burst out laughing at the dark look in his eyes that seems like it should be in a period drama, and not on your boyfriend’s face.

“Oh my god.” You blow out. “Are you fucking jealous because I talked to the cop about a boat rig, they’d had stolen last night?” He turns away stiffly and continues walking towards the direction of your apartment building, ignoring the laughter that almost has you doubled over.

“We were talking about the boat that was stolen from the police department parking lot, trailer and all, and you’re acting like some damn brooding period romance wannabe Jack!” He’s still ignoring you, trying to quicken his pace. Now that the initial jealousy has worn off, he’s slightly embarrassed by his behavior.

He’s holding the door for you to grab before he’s punching his keys into the lock on the front door of your apartment complex. His jaw is tight again, a muscle ticking. He can feel the triumphant smirk on your face you’re aiming at his back. 

He leans against the back wall of the elevator, his arms braced on the railing. You chuckle slightly as you wait for the elevator to reach your floor, your arms crossed as you shift your weight as you stand in front of him. You startle as you feel a sharp slap delivered to your ass by Jack.

You scoff and turn to him, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Excuse me?” you ask.

He crosses his arms and drops his eyes down to you and then back up to the screen to watch the floor numbers climb. “Mine.” He growls softly.

“Don’t start.” You warn, turning back around. You jump again as he places one last slap to your ass before brushing past you when the elevator doors start to open.

“Jack Abbot.” You scold, hustling after him, his dark chuckle echoing back to you from down the hall. He’s leaning against the apartment door, his gaze still dark, his arms crossed. You take probably a bit too long studying the veins as you walk up, enjoying the ways his muscles flex.

You eye him with an eyebrow raised and a shake of your head. You dig into your pockets to find your keys.

“I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow am I.” You say as you push the door open, his gaze still heavy on you.

“Not if I can help it.” He says with a wicked smirk; his lips crashing into yours, his hand already possessively around your neck. 

“Jealousy looks really good on you.” You moan, chuckling softly at his lack of control as he pushes you across the threshold and into your apartment.

------------------------------------------------------ A/N: Slowly working through requests! Per usual I hope you and enjoy and lmk what y'all think!