#Neighbour AU

[miryum]

☆ miryum's dc universe☆

Neighbour!Jason Todd who wasn’t home when you first moved in. If he was, he would’ve offered to help with the heavy furniture. Alfred raised a gentleman, of course. But no, he was off in a safe house, nursing a wound from last night's patrol. A bullet had grazed his side and it was leaving a nasty ache

Neighbour!Jason Todd who then didn’t mean to wake you when he crashed into his apartment that night, via window. How could he know that someone had just moved into the apartment next door and was startling at every bump in the night?

Neighbour!Jason Todd who was very surprised when he, still in his Red Hood gear, heard someone knock on the door soon after. A very sweet voice called out, “hello? I just want to check that you’re okay? I know it’s not my place and you might be a serial killer, but just wanted to make sure you’re not having a heart attack.”

Neighbour!Jason Todd who threw off his helmet and voice modulator before clearing his throat and calling out, “nope! No, I’m fine. Uh… thank you?” 

Neighbour!Jason Todd who breathed a sigh of relief when the voice responded, “oh, okay. I- I’m sorry. Good night.”

Neighbour!Jason Todd who stood up, even though his bullet wound cried out against it. He wasn’t sure why he stood, for he could already hear your footsteps departing. His face twisted into one of confusion, both at his reaction, and the fact that someone had come to check up on him. The majority of his neighbours didn’t care

Neighbour!Jason Todd who next met you when he was going to get the mail. He saw you outside the lobby door, crouching down. His curiosity got the better of him and he stepped outside during dusk in Gotham, something no citizen should ever do

Neighbour!Jason Todd who found out that you were feeding the street cats. You were fucking feeding the street cats. There were at least six cats surrounding you, weaving in between your legs as you set down a bowl of milk and some cat food. He cleared his throat and you looked up at him, already smiling. How could someone in Gotham smile? At him? His long sleeves, while hiding his physical scars, surely couldn’t cover the anxiety and trauma embedded deep within him. “What… what are you doing?” he asked softly

Neighbour!Jason Todd who simply stared at you as you responded, “I’m feeding the cats.” After a pause, you added, “they were meowing at me when I came home from work so I picked up some cat food from the store and brought it back to them. Aren’t they just adorable?” You reached out to pet one who gladly turned on its belly for you

Neighbour!Jason Todd who asked, “you know, they do that to everyone? They’re smart enough to know a new face that’ll feed them.” And then he mentally kicked himself because now this girl thought he was pessimistic and didn’t feed the cats. Then you shrugged and everything seemed better. “Yeah, I know, but they look so hungry…” The way your lips tilted to the side made Jason want to stare at them forever

Neighbour!Jason Todd who almost offered to adopt the cats because that meant that you would come over to his apartment to see them

Neighbour!Jason Todd who then rubbed the back of his neck and announced, “my name is Jason.”

Neighbour!Jason Todd who melted when you laughed lightly and introduced yourself. He knew he had found the one

Neighbour!Jason Todd who then became much more aware of your presence in the apartment building. It wasn’t hard to piece together your routine (which you should think of changing regularly because it would be too easy for a criminal to figure it out) and if that meant Jason went to go on runs every now and then that coincided with your grocery trips, then it was a coincidence. He would grab his mail the same time you did. He would take more care to not make as much noise when he returned after vigilante nights, as to not wake you. It was the little things, he reasoned, that would make you notice him

Neighbour!Jason Todd who didn’t know what to do when the power went out. Of course, he had his survival kit ready and stocked with a flashlight, provisions, a blanket, a portable charger, and numerous weapons. He was ready to wait it out, but he didn’t know what to do when it came to you. Should he go over and check on you? Or would that seem like he thought you couldn’t handle yourself? 

Neighbour!Jason Todd who didn’t have to worry for long because a soft, rapid knock came at the door. He wasn’t surprised when you were there, small flashlight in hand. “Does this happen often?” is the first thing you asked. Jason huffed a laugh and replied with his own question, “is this your first time in Gotham?”

Neighbour!Jason Todd who invited you into his apartment. He wasn’t sure whether or not to count this as a first date, but you were soon bundled in his blankets and asking questions about his personal life, so that was like a date, right? He hadn’t been on many and didn’t intend to now that he met you

Neighbour!Jason Todd who did not know what to do when you fell asleep on his couch. Holy shit. Fuck. What should he do? He didn’t want you to think he assaulted you while you were sleeping, so for a couple minutes he sat in his kitchen, watching you wearily and putting as much distance between the two of you as possible. But then he didn’t like the distance between you, so it was a real conundrum

Neighbour!Jason Todd who instead sat awkwardly on his ottoman, watching TV with the volume muted and subtitles on

Neighbour!Jason Todd who didn’t even leave for patrol when the other members of the Batfam asked for help. The blackout was causing Gotham to run wild, but Jason was content with locking the doors and making sure you were comfy

Neighbour!Jason Todd who was still sitting on that ottoman when you woke up in the morning. He carefully evaded your questions on whether he slept and instead decided to make you breakfast. When you complimented his breakfast over and over, joking how you would have to come over more often if it meant his cooking, Jason agreed maybe a bit too quickly

Neighbour!Jason Todd who was the neighbour you then called on if you had a package arriving during work hours and needed someone to sign it. He was the neighbour you didn’t mind seeing in the halls because a chat with him wasn’t seen as uncomfortable. He was the neighbour you asked to help repair the sink (you got a very lovely image of his shirt riding up as he laid underneath your sink and maybe it was because you were ovulating but oh god did you want to jump his bones). He was the neighbour who, when he found out you liked similar movies, stumbled over his words to invite you to watch them with him

Neighbour!Jason Todd who actually didn’t love the genre of movies you did, but would like them if it meant seeing you

Neighbour!Jason Todd who wasn’t sure what your relationship status was with him and it ate away at him almost every moment of the day. You were always in the back of his mind, always making his heart warm 

Neighbour!Jason Todd who tried to coax you back to your apartment after you returned home one night, stumbling and intoxicated. But you didn’t want to. You were firmly standing in his doorway and kept blabbering about meaningless things. When he finally convinced you to rest on his couch, you declared, stumbling over your words, “see? This is why I like you Jason. You- you’re a- a very- You’re a very good person.” You then reached up and patted his cheek. “Love you, bye-bye.” And you promptly fell asleep

Neighbour!Jason Todd who was then in a state of shock of the next three hours

Neighbour!Jason Todd who ended up calling Alfred at four in the morning, prompting the older man to think the ex-Robin was kidnapped and needed help. As it turned out, Jason needed help, but with a girl; not a crime lord. Alfred sent Jason off with a few words of wisdom and luck, the most notable being, “Master Jason, if the girl does not return your feelings, then you can simply move out of your apartment and back into the Manor.” Jason thought that was a worse fate than you rejecting him

Neighbour!Jason Todd who was very patient the next morning, giving you painkillers and a large glass of water. When you remembered the previous night, mortified, he tried to calm you down, eyes worried that you would leave him. He wasn’t sure what he would do if you left his life

Neighbour!Jason Todd who, in a mess of panic and embarrassment, managed to blurt out, “no, wait! I- I want you to stay. Please. I know you didn’t mean your words last night, but I really like having you in my life. Can’t we… be friends?” It broke his heart to suggest it, but he’d be willing to keep that platonic bond if it didn’t drive you away

Neighbour!Jason Todd who waited, heart in his throat, when the seconds ticked by and you didn’t answer. “But I did mean them,” you finally whispered out. “I like you, Jason. And I wanna do something about that.”

Neighbour!Jason Todd who stammered and spluttered, “well, then, let’s do something.”

Neighbour!Jason Todd who took you out on dates every week and didn’t know what to do when you found the Red Hood gear in his closet when you were searching for a hoodie to steal

Neighbour!Jason Todd who wasn’t expecting you to laugh, of all things. “I guessed,” is all you said. And that’s when Jason kissed you for the first time

Neighbour!Jason Todd who became a staple in your life, not only because you two lived in the same building, but because of how amazing he was. There were no other words to describe it. It was like the man knew your needs before you did and fulfilled them just because he wanted to. He was the epitome of “princess treatment”

Neighbour!Jason Todd who was scared for you to sleep over for the first time because of his nightmares but found out that when your head was on his bicep (cutting off circulation to his fingers), and your body was tucked into his, hair messy and lips slightly parted, that he didn’t have nightmares. It was like you scared them all away, just by being there

Neighbour!Jason Todd who wanted you to sleep over much more frequently

Neighbour!Jason Todd who made it a habit to buy cat food at the grocery store because you still insisted on feeding those damn cats after months of living in Gotham. Nevermind that the cats had found which apartment you lived in and climbed up to the window via the fire escape. Nevermind that the cats realised that when you weren’t in your apartment, you were most likely in Jasons. And nevermind that he now had cats outside his window almost 24/7 that he begrudgingly fed because who was he if not subject to you or Damian’s rants about feeding the fucking cats

Neighbour!Jason Todd who just liked to touch you. He liked to be reminded that he was much bigger than you and his body could swallow yours up whilst cuddling on the couch. He liked to put his arm around your shoulder and trace patterns on your skin. He liked to hug you tightly from behind because it reminded him that you were there and you were his. He liked to do this in public too – not huge amounts of PDA, but a hand on the waist or slipped in your back pocket. A hand on the small of your back when crossing streets. Reaching out behind him to grab your hand while walking through large crowds

Neighbour!Jason Todd who, a year later, signed the lease to your apartment, so that now you were neighbours who shared a bed and a bathroom and a home

[missmoonfrost]

Mr. Dangerous - a wolfstar microfic

April 18 - Neighbour AU - 567 words

@wolfstarmicrofic

The yelling wakes Remus up. The voice is distant, but loud enough that he can make out some words.

“Fucking whore, fucking bitch”

And, oh. That is definitely a woman crying.

Remus pulls the pillow over his head and tries to think of an excuse. He doesn’t know which apartment it is coming from. Maybe it’s even just someone passing by outside?

No. He can't ignore this. He won’t be that kind of person. With dread pooling in his stomach, he pulls a cardigan over his worn-out T-shirt and pyjama pants and wearily steps out into the staircase.

He freezes as he spots Mr. Dangerous, as Remus has named him in his mind. The neighbour with long black hair and tattoos winding up his neck, whom Remus lets play loud music late at night because he doesn’t dare complain. For a moment he thinks the yells must have been him. But then he fixes Remus with a concerned look.

“Did you hear it too?”

“Y- yeah. I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

As on cue, they hear a new tirade of curses.

“It must be from above.”

Remus silently agrees and follows Mr. Dangerous up the stairs. They stop in front of a door and look at each other. Mr. Dangerous knocks hard. The voice gets silent. The man that opens reeks of alcohol.

“What do you want?”

“Is everything ok?”

The grumpy man grunts. “Trying to sleep here.”

That’s hard to believe as he is fully dressed. Remus waits for Mr. Dangerous to say something more, but he doesn’t. Remus suddenly realises he looks scared and not dangerous at all, so he puts a foot forward.

“Can I come in? I lost my cat and I think I saw it through your window.”

The man grunts dismissively and starts closing the door.

“Let us in!” Mr. Apparently Not Scared Anymore springs forward. “I know karate and I –“ He gets a punch in the face and stumbles backwards.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Are you ok?” Remus grabs his shoulders and pulls him back, but the door is already closed.

“Fine. It’s fine.” Mr. Stupidly Brave presses his hands to his face.

“I’m calling the cops.”

“Already done.”

And sure enough, Remus can hear sirens in the distance.

After an hour of drama, both of them having been questioned by police officers, both the wife-beater and the poor woman having been escorted out by police and all nosey neighbours that suddenly did hear after all having withdrawn again, Remus finds himself in the staircase alone with Mr. Hero Of The Day.

They look solemnly at each other. Until Mr. Hero Of The Day smirks. “I lost my cat?”

Remus rubs his neck with heating cheeks. “Worth a try, wasn’t it?” He laughes along. It's liberating after all thay have just been trough.

Remus raises an eyebrow. “I know karate?”

It’s Mr. Hero's turn to huff and squirm, but they both laugh loudly again.

“I will not be able to sleep any time soon.”

“Me, neither.”

Remus jerks his head in the direction of his door. “Do you want to come in for a cup of tea?”

Suddenly the good neighbour who Remus had started to relax around looks like Mr. Dangerous again, sizing him up with his eyes squinting and arms folded.

“Only if you don’t want to come to mine for a shot of whiskey.”

Remus laughs again. “Sure. I could use one.”

[thesleepyskipper]

WIP Wednesday!

Thank you to the lovely @onthewaytosomewhere and @henryspearl for the tags today!

I'm early as it was time to post the final chapter and epilogue of my @aroyallybigbangrwrb fic good neighbours (reblogs appreciated of my little post about it here ❤️)

Now that that's all done, it's time to really focus on 'the shower one' and I'm excited about it! Here's a little snippet.

There’s a stream of water running across Henry; it starts from his head, dampening his hair until it is dark and messy, pieces of it covering his eyes with droplets slowly dripping onto the tiled floor. From there, it chases a path from his neck, across his shoulder and down his torso, like a river. The kind of river Alex played in as a kid back in Texas. He wants to play in it, splash in it, bathe in it. He settles for reaching out and letting the stream run down over his hand as he places it on Henry’s chest.

And here's some tags for other lovelies in case you would like to play:

@kiwiana-writes, @welcometololaland, @cha-melodius, @orchidscript, @firenati0n

@theprinceandagcd, @cricketnationrise, @jmagnabo92, @myheartalivewrites, @piratefalls

@rmd-writes, @celeritas2997, @three-drink-amy, @iboatedhere, @noahreids

@blueeyedgrlwrites, @alasse9, @stereopticons, @rarelyrad, @smblmn

@nontoxic-writes, @indestructibleheart, @maxbegone, @clockwrkpendrxgon, @getmehighonmagic

@anincompletelist, @anchoredarchangel, @emmalostinwonderland, @heysweetheart-writes, @littlemisskittentoes

@tailsbeth-writes, @sparklepocalypse, @fullsunsets, @duchessdepolignaca03, @sophie1973

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @dragonflylady77, @agame-writes, @nocoastposts, @lightningboltreader

@inexplicablymine, @na-dineee, @notspecialbabe, @benwvatt, @cactusdragon517

@onetwistedmiracle, @tinyarmedtrex, @caterpills, @ninzied, @porcelainmortal,

@kordeliafawkes, @stratocumulusperlucidus, @bitbybitwrites, @idealuk, @stellarmeadow

@suseagull04, @wordsofhoneydew, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @dreamtigress, @caterpills

@miss-minnelli, @priincebutt, @stellarmeadow, @softboynick, @judasofsuburbia

@firstprincefairytale, @rachelica9, @readstheroom, @anti-homophobia-cheese, @fullerthanskippy

@mummabear1o, @zwiazdziarka, @mikibwrites, @swearphil, @flowerfan2

[nerdywriter36]

Sticky Notes and Serendipity, Epilogue: Sticky Notes and Serendipity

AO3

And just like that, Sticky Notes and Serendipity is completed!! It's crazy to think about that, but @brendadaaedestler and I are so excited to be able to share the conclusion of this story with everyone. We are so happy with this sweet ending, and we think our readers will be too ❤️

The fact that this fic is finished and posted in its entirety is absolutely insane. The last year of working on it has been a wild ride and we have loved every second of bringing this beautiful story to life. The love that it received was something that neither of us expected but are so happy about; we're so glad that everyone came to love the story and these characters as much as we did. It is without a doubt one of my favourite things that I've ever written, that I am the most proud of, and I don't think that will change any time soon.

For everyone who has been waiting for the last part, here you are and THANK YOU for going on this ride with us!! For everyone who has been waiting for this fic to be completed before reading it, go nuts!!

Thank you to everyone who has read this fic, and enjoy the epilogue of Sticky Notes and Serendipity ❤️

[lulublack90]

Prompt 18 Neighbour AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 18, word count 991

Remus Lupin had one asset, and that was his parent’s house. It was in the middle of the Welsh countryside. It was a mile walk to the little village, and the only thing it had going for it was the barn. It was light and airy and smelled of wood. 

Remus had spent a lot of time and effort converting it into a liveable space. The idea had been to sell it, but no one was interested in living so far away from the major cities. So, under the advice of his estate agent, he rented it out for short holidays. 

So far, it had been quite lucrative. With the money he made from that and his own job, he could afford chocolate whenever he wanted. 

The holiday season was coming, and he already had two weeks booked out. He tended to get a lot of city dwellers looking to get away from it all or families trying to get back to their roots. 

He checked his emails one morning with a fresh cup of tea and a plate of crumpets. HE filtered out the junk and found an inquiry email in his barn folder. He opened it.

A man was looking to hire the barn for the full summer and all of September as well. He was looking at three months of solid booking. It was a shame he couldn’t offer it, having already booked those two weeks. And he refused to let down his other guests. He typed a reply stating as much. He got a reply back almost instantly, asking if there was somewhere he could pitch a small tent. Mr Black said he would gladly still pay full price while his other guests used the barn. Remus couldn’t believe what he was reading. It seemed too good to be true. He sent a couple of pictures of his personal garden. The views weren’t as good, but it would be sheltered from the worst of the wind, and he could use Remus’s garden furniture. Again, the reply was quick. The man agreed and said he hoped he wouldn’t be any bother. 

Remus sent an invoice and got Mr Black to confirm he agreed to the price, and with the confirmation, he booked out the three months. He sat back with a pleased look on his face as he finished his crumpets. He just hoped that Mr Black would be a good neighbour as it was a long time to deal with a terrible guest. 

July arrived, and with it, a sleek black motorbike and an equally sleek owner. Sirius, as he demanded to be called, settled in instantly. He played his music a little loudly, but as it was to Remus’s taste, he decided to enjoy it. 

Remus found he quite enjoyed Sirius’s company, and they spent nearly every night in Remus’s garden drinking beers. Remus had even started making enough dinner for Sirius, though Sirius had told him he didn’t expect it but did appreciate it as he was useless at cooking.

It turned out that Sirius needed a break from his high-pressure job, which was why he’d come to Remus’s. 

“I hate it. It’s been my life since my mother found out she was pregnant with me. They own the company now, but my brother and I run it. He’s so much better at it than I am, and I swear he’d have such an easier time at it if I quit.” Sirius had admitted to him one August afternoon.

“Then why don’t you quit?” Remus asked as though it were an obvious solution. 

“Everything I own is tied up in the company. If I leave, I lose everything.” He shrugged. “My parents made sure it was that way after I went through a rebellious streak in my teenage years.”

“That’s terrible, Sirius. I wish I could help.” And Remus found he meant it. 

“Don’t fret about it. I’ll muddle through.” Sirius beamed at him as he patted Remus’s leg. “Right, enough feeling sorry for myself. I’m off for a walk. Care to join me?” Remus couldn’t think of any reason not to, so he took the proffered hand, and they strolled towards the village. 

Remus showed Sirius some of his favourite childhood haunts just off the beaten track, and they spent a wonderful afternoon in the thick foliage. 

Soon, the first week came around when Sirius would have to sleep in his tent. And, of course, the worst storm to hit Wales in over a hundred years decided to arrive that night. 

The trees were whipping back and forth, creaking and groaning. The fence surrounding Remus’s garden swayed dangerously. Remus refused to let Sirius stay out in this. He flung open the back door and yelled into the downpour. 

“Sirius! Sirius!” A face popped out of the zippered entrance of the tent. “Get in here!” Sirius shook his head. 

“I’m all good. Don’t fret.” 

Lightning cut across the sky, lighting the dark ground with its answering thunder not far behind. 

“Sirius, please! I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re out here!” 

Suddenly, Sirius was streaking across the lawn and ran straight into Remus’s arms, knocking the lanky man back a few steps. Lighting flashed across the sky again and then another and another. The last bolt hit the cherry blossom tree in Remus’s garden, and a huge branch fell off and crushed the tent Sirius had been in moments before. 

“Yeah, probably a good call that Remus,” He joked. “Shall I put the kettle on?” Remus decided, not that he had much choice, that Sirius would be staying in his spare bedroom for the remainder of the two weeks. Maybe longer if the look Sirius was giving him meant what Remus thought it did. That night, they sat, snuggled up together on Remus’s tiny sofa in front of a roaring fire, sipping mugs of hot chocolate and listening to the storm wailing around them.  

[autisticlancemcclain]

The boy is young.

Marcela is concerned.

“What you are is nosy,” Miguel says.

“Blah, blah,” Marcela responds like the elegant lady she was raised to be, peeking through the blinds to watch as the boy struggles with several bags full of groceries. She frowns. “Look at him, Guelos. He’s still so young that he takes one trip with ten bags. He’s — a child, practically. A baby. With a mortgage. Who authorized this?”

Her husband sighs, pushing his chair out to come stand next to her. She opens the blinds a couple millimetres wider to help him see, leaning into the hand he places on her back.

“We were young too, you know. No older than him the year you were pregnant with Luis.”

Marcela frowns at him. “Yes, but we were young together. We both had savings, and jobs. I’d been practically raising my siblings for years, at that point. You’d been working since you were twelve. Times were — different, Miguel.”

She turns back to the window. The boy, who just moved in a few days ago, is standing on the small veranda, staring at the door. He looks down at his hand, laden with bags, and then back at the door. Marcela has to bite her lip to keep from smiling, despite her worry.

Miguel slides his hand across her shoulders, pulling her close and pressing a lingering kiss to her head. She closes her eyes, leaning into it, curling her fist at his sternum.

“Times have changed,” he agrees softly, words muffled against her skin. “We’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Okay,” she breathes. She watches over her husband’s shoulder as the boy finally gives up, dropping the groceries to the ground and digging around his pockets for his keys. It was funny before, but he looks so — defeated. Sad. Like this was the frustrating cherry on top of an already difficult day.

Or maybe she’s reading into things. She watches until he finally gets inside, door closing forcefully behind him, and she knows in her heart that she will not be able to leave it be.

———

Marcela is nosy.

“Why are we here,” Lancito whines, trying and failing to pull away from her hand.

“Because we are being neighbourly,” Marcela responds primly. She sees him stick out his tongue from the corner of his eye and decides to let him have it.

“You just want to see the inside of the new guy’s house,” he mutters.

Marcela’s jaw drops, because how the hell did that little brat know that, but before she can say anything the lock turns and she schools her face quickly back into her brightest smile, slightly strained. Lance, suddenly shy, hides behind her legs.

“…Hi,” the boy says. He looks — wary, slightly, but not too uncomfortable.

Marcela takes it for the win it is.

“Hello,” she says, softening considerably. The boy reminds her sharply of her brother. He had that same look to him, the eyes of someone older than he is; the posture of someone who seems to simply understand the world on a deeper level. His slight, awkward smile is identical, as well. She has to blink back tears, heart aching in missing him. “I’m Marcela. I live next door. These are for you.”

She holds out the plate of tostones, covered in aluminum foil. She’d originally had them in a container, but then worried that he’d feel pressured to wash and return it. She moved the tostones from the plate to the container so many times that Marco had walked over from where he was doing his homework, grabbed her hands, guided her gently to the side, and fixed the plate up himself. Miguel had laughed until he cried, because apparently he’s hankering for a divorce. (He’d laughed harder when she’d said that.)

“Oh.” The boy blinks, surprised. He stares at the plate for a moment, wary look on his face replaced with something like confusion.

“They’re tostones,” Lancito offers, peeking out from behind her. The boy startles, looking at Lance with wide eyes. Lance takes his awkwardness for ignorance. “They’re squashed plantains that are fried. Plantains are like bananas but better. Mamá makes them really good.”

Slowly, the boy reaches out and grabs the plate. He peels back the aluminum foil slightly, peeking inside.

“They look good,” he agrees, voice soft.

Lancito scoffs. He steps out from behind her, offense making him brave, but still hold on to the hem of her shirt. “Um, duh. They’re tostones.” He looks hungrily at the plate. “Mamá spent all morning making them and we didn’t get any. You must be her favourite neighbour or something.”

“Leandro-Agustín,” Marcela hisses, cheeks flushing. Lance only stares back at him with a puzzled expression, hand raised in a universal, what?

Luckily, though, the boy doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does he doesn’t say anything. He only slowly peels back the aluminum farther and offers the plate towards Lance. Lance looks back at Marcela, questioning. Marcela sighs.

Quickly, so she doesn’t change her mind, Lance snatches the closest one and shoves it in his mouth. The boy’s small smile gets a little bit bigger. He picks up his own tostone and takes a bite, inclining his head after swallowing.

“You were right,” he says. “They are delicious. Thank you, Mrs. Marcela.”

“Just Marcela is fine,” she assures.

The boy hesitates, face twitching. “I don’t think I can physically do that,” he says politely. “I can feel my grandmother rolling in her grave.”

Marcela snorts. “Alright, fair. I can live with the formalities, I suppose.”

The boy has the same tiny smile again. It brightens his eyes, makes his whole face look younger.

“I’m Takashi,” he says. He goes to offer his hand to shake, but there’s only —

The stump of his right arm twitches. The boy — Takashi — stiffens. Marcela watches, despondent, as his expression shutters, and he steps back.

“Thank you for coming,” he says robotically. “I appreciate the food.”

Marcela knows a dismissal when she hears one. She anguishes, once again, in the privacy of her own mind, just how young this kid is. Barely older than Luis.

“I’m right next door,” she says softly. Lance, ever observant, watches the two of them closely. “If you need anything, Takashi, let us know.”

The boy nods stiffly. He closes his door without another word. Marcela sighs.

“You’re gonna need another plate of nosy food,” Lance observes. “Or maybe you should invite him for dinner, and then he’ll invite you for dinner. That might work better.”

Marcela guides them down the steps and back to their house, kissing him gently on the head. “I think you’re right, mijo. You wanna help me make some cookies?”

They’ll get there.

[detective-inspector-her]

[asking in an ask now]

What is Neighbour Val?

Neighbour Val is sort of based on my Timetravel fic without the timetravel. The idea of the Darklys moving to Haggard to be closer to the Sanctuary.

Valkyrie is Auger and Omen's neighbour from the second book onwards and shenanigans ensue.

Because they'd be a fun trio.

More confident Omen, Darkly Parents Bashing. The whole thing. Also incorporating the Omen has asthma headcanon.

I've got a plan for One chapter and it's slow going, but it'll be out after I've written The Faceless Ones:Time Travel probably.

[totallynotashieldagent]

No Reservations

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader

Summary: Reader is a Chef in Gotham for just a year for a certification. She wants to make friends. She'll do it even if it means forcing the neighbour to do it.

Masterlist

March

"So, no one else is on this floor?" You asked the building manager 

"Just one guy- But he's hardly around." He shrugged and handed you the key 

Disappointment. That was the only word you could think of. 

Neighbours were the easiest way to make friends, to get to know a city, to get to know its people. Even if it was a place like Gotham. But you were here for a year to finish your guild certification and through that, you didn't want to be alone. People at school weren't the friendliest, and there was good reason for it. The job placements afterwards were for a select number only and no one could jeopardise their career by fraternising with the enemy. 

In any case, you hoped that you'd just run into your mystery neighbour in the elevator or the hallway eventually, and make small talk then take it from there. Or just bring something back from class as a peace offering. 

The first week was manic. Moving in and making sure that you were prepared for the hectic months ahead.

[onboardsorasora]

https://www.tumblr.com/onboardsorasora/747284783747497984

Neighbor max comes home to Daniel washing his car in Max’s parking spot

He’s horny and annoyed

oh and Daniel's probably doing this in tiny shorts and like a muscle shirt so he's not hiding anything. the sun is beating down on him and his wet and glistening and Max is sooooo annoyed becasue thats his space.

he stomps into the building. refusing to respond to daniel's greeting. of course his apartment faces the parking lot. so he glances out his window and see's daniel in all his glory. jerks off to the play of muscles in the sun

[kenjikishimotoswifey]

HELPPLLPP

good on your cat for doing that james i hope mother cat messages him when she runs out of cat food

jegulus au where

[miryum]

I have three main WIPS I’m working on and I need motivation. Which to finish first? (I think the Jason girlies will win, but you never know 🤷‍♀️)

[thesleepyskipper]

Seven (+1) Sentence Sunday

Many thanks to @kiwiana-writes, @blueeyedgrlwrites, @myheartalivewrites and @littlemisskittentoes for the tags!!

I'm really happy to be able to say that I have finished my rough draft for @aroyallybigbangrwrb and Chapter 1 will be posted a week today, next Sunday!

Here's another little sneak peek of my neighbours AU with a bonus sentence! 😂

“Hi,” Henry responded, barely able to make proper words in his head, proud to have at least formed a single intelligible syllable with his mouth. 

His brain was still stuck on how stunning the man in front of him was, his unfairly long eyelashes coming into view as he got closer and closer. In fact, he felt there were not enough adjectives in the English language to describe just how beautiful he was. And Henry should know, as an English Literature major with a Master’s degree from Oxford, and certainly as a published author with a novel currently on the New York Times bestseller list.  

(Okay, it was #14 this week and had never been above #12, but he was definitely not complaining - he had at least made it onto the list!). 

Not wanting to be rude, Henry managed to get a few more words to escape his lips, “I’d shake your hand, but I’m a bit, uh, indisposed at the moment.” 

He tried to point at the box by tipping his head towards it, hoping that got the message across. Henry also tried to appear perfectly capable of managing the weight, but his arms were straining at this point as the box started to slowly slip lower and lower in his grasp, inching towards the floor.

Tagging friends new and old who might like to share on this beautiful weekend!

@rmd-writes, @celeritas2997, @cricketnationrise, @nontoxic-writes, @welcometololaland

@indestructibleheart, @alasse9, @sparklepocalypse, @ships-to-sail, @firenati0n

@anincompletelist, @anchoredarchangel, @iboatedhere, @priincebutt, @jmagnabo92

@heysweetheart-writes, @duchessdepolignaca03, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @dragonflylady77, @theprinceandagcd

@henryspearl, @agame-writes, @fullsunsets, @nocoastposts, @inexplicablymine

@na-dineee, @notspecialbabe, @benwvatt, @cactusdragon517, @onetwistedmiracle

@suseagull04, @caterpills @stratocumulusperlucidus, @tailsbeth-writes, @getmehighonmagic

@cha-melodius @three-drink-amy @orchidscript @onthewaytosomewhere, @tinyarmedtrex

@ninzied, @porcelainmortal, @emmalostinwonderland

(I think I've fixed my tags now! Open tag to anyone else who wants to share!)

[nerdywriter36]

Sticky Notes and Serendipity Chapter 28: Emerald Rings and Evening Excursions

AO3

Chapter 28 is up and it's a big one! No hints, you've got to read it and find out what goes on 😉

Thank you all so much for the recent love on Sticky Notes, it has been overwhelming! Chloe and I can't believe how many people love this fic; it makes us so happy to see and read all of the comments. Thank you again and happy reading! ❤️

[ohmoonbeam]

I’m dead and buried. At least Harry is getting what he was missing in his marriage

MAKE HER REGRET IT

A/N: i was really in the mood for some smut and the neighbors trope popped into my head, so here we are!

WORD COUNT: 4.1k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry, your freshly divorced, insanely hot neighbor needs your help: you have to pretend to be his new girlfriend when his ex-wife comes over, however your little stunt outdoes your expectations in a lot of ways.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

It's a basic instinct for you at this point to look up at the balcony whenever you’re approaching your apartment building. However you’re not looking at yours, but the one next to yours that belongs to one hot, freshly divorced guy who moved in next door about two months ago. 

You remember the morning the moving truck appeared and you knew someone was taking the vacant apartment beside yours. You just arrived back from your morning run and you jumped right into guesses about who it will be. Maybe someone your age? A girl you can go to yoga with? Or a sweet old lady you can have tea with on warm afternoons? Hopefully not a noisy family, because the walls are way too thin to endure the screaming of a child. 

Then you saw him. Carrying a heavy looking box up the stairs, a simple white shirt stretching on his torso, tattooed arms flexing under the weight of the box, you knew you were fucked the first time you saw Harry Styles. 

It took you no time to lurk over the next day and introduce yourself as his neighbor. 

“If you need suggestions for coffee spots around the neighborhood, I’m your person,” you smiled at him charmingly as he stood in his doorway in gray sweats and a black t-shirt, hair messy but so delicious, it was screaming for your fingers to run through his locks. 

“I will definitely keep that in mind. I can offer to fix anything around your apartment, I’m kind of a handyman,” he chuckled and your knees almost buckled hearing his creamy british accent. 

Fate played on your hand, because you kept running into each other so it didn’t take long for you to go out for a coffee run together and it was smooth sailing from then. You learned about how he just got divorced, his wife cheated on him and he found out on their second anniversary, tragic story and you still can’t quite understand how any woman could cheat on a man like him. You practically drool every time you catch a glimpse of him arriving back from a run in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tanned skin glistening from sweat. You definitely love to move out to the balcony around the time he can be expected to appear in the late afternoon, you watch him stretch and breathe heavily and the sight alone makes you break a sweat as well, but for a whole different reason. 

You’ve been trying to flirt with him every possible occasion, but you also make sure you don’t come off too pushy. After all he just got out of a marriage, it must be hard on him to recover from being cheated on. There’s also a slight age difference between the two of you, not that dramatic, but that eight years could easily be a deal breaker for him, so you’ve been playing it safe. 

When you’re lying in bed late at night and sleep is not coming to you, you can’t help but think of how he is on the other side of the wall, you imagine him sleeping without a shirt, maybe thinking about you the way you like to think of him… But it’s all just a fantasy, one you fancy very much. 

The door to his balcony is open so you know he is home, but he is not out. You take your time walking up the stairs, your legs are definitely tired from the run you just had and just when you reach your floor Harry’s front door swings open and you stop, watching him walk over to your door. He didn’t notice you, so you stay still and watch him take a deep breath as he lifts his fist up to knock, but then it falls back to his side and he shakes his head, stepping backwards before returning to his spot on your doormat and that’s when you decide to put him out of his misery. 

“Are you out of sugar, neighbor?” you ask, slowly walking towards him. Harry spins around with a stunned expression. 

“Oh, I didn’t–I didn’t see you.” You catch his gaze running down your body and legs and you’re thankful you decided to wear your shortest shorts. 

Playing with your keys in your hands, you finally reach him. 

“What’s up?”

“Um… I have a bit of a situation on my hands and you might be able to help me.”

Unlocking the door you push it in and gesture for him to follow you inside. 

“Do tell me.”

Rounding your way into the kitchen you step to the fridge to grab some water. Harry hesitantly follows you and stops by the kitchen counter. 

“So, I talked to Rory this morning,” he starts. You’ve heard enough about Rory, his ex wife to know that if she’s involved, it’s for sure something messy. “You know that painting in my living room?” You nod. “Well, she insists it’s hers, because a friend of hers painted it, but I was the one who paid for it. Whatever. She’s been trying to get me to give it to her and honestly I’m over it so I gave in. She is picking it up today.”

“When will the part where I can help come?”

“Right here,” he chuckles nervously. “We got into a fight, no surprise. She screamed at me over the phone and told me I’ll die alone because no one can put up with my shit.”

You need to force yourself to swallow the bitterness in your mouth. That woman sounds very much like the spawn of the devil, because who would say that to anyone? Especially to Harry? Aside from being insanely hot you’ve also learned just how kind, passionate and funny he is, basically the whole deal. Rory is the biggest loser in history for letting go of a man like him. 

“One thing followed the other and I just… Um, I told her that I have someone.”

The light bulb switches on in your mind, because you already know where this is heading. And you like it, very much. 

“I don’t know what got into me, but I told her she can meet my alleged girlfriend when she picks up the painting so she can see herself that I’m not the loser she thinks I am. And… as you might now, I do not have anyone…”

“You want me to be your fake girlfriend,” you finish for him, saving him from having to say it out loud. You can see just how awkward he is, having to ask you for such a thing. 

“Basically, yeah. Only if you don’t mind being part of this shitshow. I understand if you find it weird and I don’t expect you to–”

“When should I be over at yours?” you simply ask and watch his eyes go wide. 

“Y-You will do it?”

“Sure, sounds fun. Besides, I’m curious to see the stupidest woman on earth,” you add smirking and he finally lets out a relieved laugh as well. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N. Really, I owe you big time. She’ll be here in about two hours.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there.”

For the next two hours, you do everything you can to bring out the hottest version of yourself. Hair, makeup, dress, everything is on spot when you step out of your apartment and walk over to Harry’s door, ringing the bell. 

When the door swings open and Harry sees you his mouth hangs open, giving you that one last ego boost you need to be the best possible fake girlfriend ever. 

“Satisfied with your girlfriend?” you ask, tilting your head. 

“I-I uh–Yeah! I’m… yes.”

“Can I go inside then?” you ask with a chuckle and he steps aside in a hurry.

“Sorry, yeah come inside.”

“So what’s the plan?” you ask, walking into his living room and making yourself comfortable on the couch. Harry follows, but he takes the armchair across you and you can tell he is still struggling with not ogling you, especially your exposed legs and deep cleavage the dress teases him with. 

“I don’t… I have no idea, I have never done this before.”

“I have.”

“Really?”

“Just once, in college. One of my friends broke up with a girl who did not take it well and I was his fake girlfriend for a week to get her to stop harassing him. It worked.”

“Then… I trust you with anything.”

“What’s the goal?”

Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, as if he is embarrassed to say what’s on his mind. 

“Harry, say it. I’m happy to help with anything.”

“I want to make her regret it.”

“Regret what she said?”

“Regret everything,” he corrects and when he looks you in the eye a shiver runs down your spine from the determination that’s behind his green irises. 

“Consider it done,” you smile at him devilishly. 

At your suggestion you both take a shot to ease your nerves and make it easier to lie. It seems to loosen him just enough that he doesn’t look like he is about to attend an interrogation. 

And then the bell rings. 

“Show time,” you smile at him and as he walks over to the door you take your place on the couch again. 

You hear the door open and then a female voice mixes with Harry’s before the footsteps follow. Harry comes into view first, but then Rory steps out from behind him and you see the pure shock in her eyes when she finally spots you. 

“Oh, hi!” you smile at her almost disgustingly sweetly as you stand from the couch and walk closer. “You must be Rony. I’m Y/N.” You hold out a hand for her and watch as her mouth twitches when she hears you mess her name up. 

“Rory,” she sassily says and shakes your hand at last. “So you’re the… girlfriend.” The disgust in her tone is apparent, she is not even trying to hide it and it just makes it way more enjoyable. 

“Yes and you must be the cheating ex-wife.”

Harry coughs beside you, he was not expecting you to be this blunt, but the look on Rory’s face is priceless, because she can’t deny what she is. Moving closer to Harry you wrap an arm around his waist and though at first he freezes at your closeness, he is quick to recover and join in on the act, his arm finding your waist as well. 

“The painting is over there, just take it and let’s get over with it, alright?” Harry nods towards the painting he already took off the wall, now it’s leant against the console table that’s been underneath it. 

“You didn’t even wrap it?” she scoffs. How am I supposed to take it like this?”

“Rory, I’m not a fucking gallery. You wanted the painting, take it.”

“It’s gonna be ruined if I just put it into my car like this!” she argues. 

“That’s none of my business.”

“Harry, this is so not okay! I can’t–”

“Jesus, Rory fine! I think I have some bubble wrap,” he grunts, heading into his bedroom to find something to wrap the painting in, leaving the two of you alone.

Rory gives you another long, dirty look, as if you were the woman Harry cheated on her with when she is the culprit of this mess here. 

“So how long have you been together?” she then asks, pretending like she is just chit chatting, but you know she is eager to know everything about you.

“A little over a month now. You know, I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but Harry is just the perfect guy and I couldn’t stay away from him.”

“Oh, he is not that perfect, little girl.”

It’s obvious she tried to derogate you by calling you a little girl, she must be around the age of Harry, not more than thirty-six for sure, but she can’t find anything to use against you other than the fact that you’re clearly in your twenties. How mature. 

“I know. But everything he can give me makes it worth it. And the sex, ah!”

She gives you a puzzled look. You knew this would stir her up, Harry mentioned how distant they grew in the last few months and sex wasn’t the same anymore. Looking at the timeline she must have started her affair around that time and Harry couldn’t perform the way he otherwise could because she wasn’t open to him anymore. It was a vicious cycle, but you also know Rory is the kind of woman who must have humiliated him because of that. Harry never said, but you just feel that she criticized his sexual performance when she left him even if it all happened because of her. 

And now hearing that he is giving his all to another woman is definitely something that can drive her nuts. 

“Oh please, he sucks in bed,” she scoffs.

“Not with the right partner. He is so good, I honestly don’t know how you could let go of him.”

“He couldn’t make me cum for months!”

“That’s unfortunate. I get an orgasm basically after every meal. He is so good at it, honestly, it’s like he just wants to please me every possible moment. I mean, I can’t remember a morning when I didn’t wake up with his head between my legs, he loves quickies, I have to sanitize the kitchen counter like twice a day.” You let out a chuckle and just watch as her face grows redder while staring at the kitchen counter, raging jealousy swirling in her mind for sure. It’s clearer than daylight that she didn’t cheat on him because he wasn’t manly enough, this woman is simply a stupid loser who couldn’t appreciate what she had, maybe panicked that she can’t mess around with others and then simply chose to ruin everything. 

You’re more than happy to remind her what she lost. 

“Alright, this is all I got,” Harry emerges from the bedroom with some bubble wrap he probably had left from moving, but when he sees you and Rory staring each other down, he stops. But before he could speak up, you decide to push that knife into Rory’s chest as your final move. 

Stepping over to Harry you push yourself up against him, he drops the bubble wrap and his hands grab you by the waist instantly, though you see confusion in his eyes before you take his face in your hands and pull him closer, lips pressing against his hungrily. 

It’s not a sweet, shy first kiss. This is the perfect show off, messy, passionate, full of tongue and eagerness as you practically devour each other. For a bit you forget about the show you’re putting up and it’s your real desire you’ve been fighting for weeks now. Every time you try to pull back Harry just keeps demanding more and you happily give him what he wants. He bites into your bottom lip when one of his hands moves down to your ass, giving it a not-at-all shy squeeze, making you moan into the kiss. 

It feels like it takes forever for you to stop, when you open your eyes you’re met with Harry’s hungry eyes, his lips are slightly swollen and shiny from your kisses. 

And then you remember you’re not alone. 

“Oh, fuck you. Fuck you both!” Rory pops the bubble around you and when you turn to look at her, she is already grabbing the painting, not even bothering to wrap it. 

“It was nice to meet you!” you call after her.

“Fuck you!” she repeats, marching towards the door and you’re just smirking like an idiot, pleased with yourself for pissing her off so badly. 

Harry follows her to shut the door behind her and you let yourself bathe in the sweet victory you just earned. 

“This went amazing, right? She was so mad, oh my God!” you laugh, but your smile quickly disappears when you realize the serious look on Harry’s face as he is walking back towards you. 

Shit, maybe the kiss was too much. He didn’t want it and now he is pissed at you.

“Are you mad about the kiss? I-I’m sorry if it was too–”

The words die down on your lips when they crash against his again, his hand cupping the back of your head while the other returns straight to your ass, groping you so hard your whole body smashes against his. 

Your mouth opens in surprise and it gives him the chance to push his tongue against yours, he is demanding, rough and so much more raw than what you imagined him to be like. 

“What did you tell her?” he asks against your mouth, moving you around until the small of your back hits the kitchen counter. “What did you tell her that made her so pissed?” he demands, his hand already eagerly moving underneath your dress. He presses two fingers against your clothed clit, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“I said, ah–I said I wake up every day with… your head between my legs, and… Oh fuck!” You’re losing your ability to speak your thoughts as his fingers start circling, the fabric of your underwear is so drenched, if you could think straight you might be embarrassed just how aroused he made you so fast. 

“And?” he urges you to continue, but at the same time he pushes your underwear to the side and pushes two fingers into you without warning, making you gasp so loud that people on the street must have heard it through the open balcony door. 

“A-and that you fuck me on the… the kitchen counter all the time.”

He curls his fingers inside you as he keeps talking.

“Then that’s what I’ll do to you now. Are you okay with that?” he asks and you nod eagerly as you hold onto his broad shoulders. 

The next moment he pulls his hand back and you whine, feeling empty all of a sudden, but then he lifts you up and makes you sit on the counter, he lowers himself and places your legs over his shoulders with careful, but confident moves. You grab onto his hair as he pushes his head between your thighs and his mouth meets your clit. 

“Oh, fuck! Harry!” you gasp out, tugging on his hair as he swirls his tongue against your swollen clit, his fingers teasing your hole again. Then they push into you and he sucks on your clit, making you see stars. 

You imagined him to be skilled, but whatever it is he is doing to you, it feels out of this world and now you know you weren’t wrong when you praised him that much to Rory before. 

You’re totally out of breath when he comes up, he kisses you and you can taste yourself on his tongue, your hands impatiently tug on his shirt to get rid of it. Soon the fabric lands on the tiled floor and you map out every inch of his hard chest with your palm and while you keep kissing like there’s no tomorrow, you faintly hear the zipper of his pants come undone. 

You look him in the eyes when you reach down and take his hard length into your hands and you can’t hold back a gasp when you realize just how big he is. 

“I know you can take it, baby,” he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth and you’re ready to take him right then and there, but he moves back, making you reach for him in panic. “Condom,” he says and you lean back onto your elbows with a sigh as you watch him disappear in his bedroom. You have just a few seconds you process that here you are, on top of Harry’s kitchen counter, with your dress bunched up around your waist, your drenched pussy on show, waiting to be fucked properly. You definitely did not expect this outcome when you woke up this morning, but you’re not complaining. 

Then Harry appears and he is walking over to you, completely naked, his dick in his hands as he rolls the condom on while moving and you bite into your bottom lip, hoping to remember this view until the end of time. 

When he reaches you again he simply curls his arms around your thighs and tugs on you so you get closer to the edge. His erection wedges between your wet folds and the tip pokes against your clit, making you clench around nothing. 

“I have to admit, I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on this counter since the day I moved in and saw you for the first time.”

“Just on the counter?” you ask teasingly. 

“Every surface of this fucking apartment,” he admits with no remorse.

“Make a list then and I’m more than happy to do them all. But let’s tick the counter off first.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

He reaches down and circles his thumb against your clit a bit before grabbing his dick by the base and dragging it up and down your cunt a few times before pushing the head in first, letting you adjust to his thickness first. When you claw at his chest he takes it as a sign to go deeper and he keeps pushing until you take his whole length, feeling fuller than ever before. 

“I want to go hard,” he breathes out, staying still for now.

“Go hard then. I can take it,” you assure him, though you do have doubts feeling just how stretched out you are now. 

“Of course you can. You’re my good girl,” he praises you and before you could get a word out, he pulls back and slams into you hard. 

There are moments when you actually think you’re about to burst, Harry did not joke when he said he wants to go hard, his thrusts are fast and rough and he makes sure he buries his whole length into you every time he pushes into you. At one point he pulls your legs over his shoulders and it allows him to reach a point in you no one has before and it pushes you towards the edge rapidly. The counter is painfully hard underneath you, but you somehow forget about the pain and only focus on how hard Harry is railing into you. His stamina is incredible, your body already feels like goo and you’re not even doing the actual work. 

“Harry, I’m so close,” you moan and his fingers dig deeper into your thighs at your words. 

“Come around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you squeeze me.”

You cry out his name again, a tear rolling down your cheek, because you’re so desperate to let go. Harry moves a hand to where you meet and his thumb returns to your clit and that’s what throws you over the edge. 

Your back arches and you squeeze around him uncontrollably, gasping for air as he ruthlessly keeps fucking into you. 

“That’s it, baby. You look so fucking beautiful, coming on my cock.”

You can’t stop moaning as you ride out your orgasm. The last waves are washing over your body when his movements fall out of rhythm, he slams into you hard and he sucks on his breath before moaning out your name over and over again, pushing into you a few more times as he comes. He falls forward, his face burying into your heaving chest as he tries to catch his breath along with you. There’s a long minute of silent bliss, his cock is still inside you, his lips peppering soft kisses onto the skin that’s exposed on your chest while you’re mindlessly playing with his hair. 

When he straightens up he pulls out of you, the empty feeling hitting you again. He carefully helps you off the counter, but keeps his arms around you, because when your feet hit the floor you wobble. 

Nuzzling your nose against his chest you take the cross pendant on his necklace between your teeth and pull back, looking him in the eyes. 

“Don’t do that, or we’re moving to the next place on the list.”

Giggling you let go of it and push yourself up to steal a kiss. 

“Give me some time to recover, but I’m all in to check out another place.”

“Jesus, I knew you’d be the death of me the moment I saw you,” he breathes out, before his mouth claims yours hungrily. 

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[soapcloth]

CW: 18+ MDNI, neighbour!price x reader - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

You find out John Price doesn’t play around when it comes to catching up on sleep while he’s on leave.

Struggling to bring in a heavy package one morning, you’re startled by your neighbour emerging from his unit huffing and puffing tiredly about noise in nothing but a simple pair of low hanging pyjama bottoms.

You’re concerned you’re going to get an earful when he wordlessly hoists the box up, uncaring about the way it tugs at his waistband to expose a dusting of hair and noticeable veins. Leaving your delivery just inside your door, he turns to look at you through squinted eyes, and your cheeks heat up when you realize you’ve been caught watching it bob under the loose fabric.

In your defence, he cuts quite the hypnotic figure from the side.

“Thank you, John-“ you try- only to be interrupted by a thick arm hooking around your neck; the other reaching behind him to close your door with just a tad too much force. His free hand lowers to scratch at his belly, prompting a loud yawn as a thick palm dips lower, giving himself a little squeeze. With a content hum rolling around in his chest, he pulls you into his apartment.

“Too early.” He grumbles as he flops onto his well-worn couch, half asleep and tugging you with him. Like a strangler fig, he rolls onto his side and cages you against the cushions, his legs tangling around yours and his cock unmistakably fattening against your belly.

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

no capes au dick and jason referring to tim as gala kid, before he’s adopted because he was the only other kid at the galas and they forgot his name.

jason post coma: what the heck bruce you adopted gala kid??

dick: his name is tim

jason: oh fr?

bruce: jason please be more sensitive his parents died

jason: omg welcome to the club

dick laughing: that’s what i told him!