#Not now cause I'm going to bed but y'know

[alexa-fika]

Can I ask for a really rebellious and curious child mandarin fish mermaid reader with WB pirates or the redhair pirates? I wonder what kind of shenanigans and chaos would they be in with such child (who may or may not get kidnapped from time to time cuz y'know, mer things ). Maybe a little bit of hurt and comfort if you Don't mind

Fish for Sale (Thatch x reader)

A/N yall almost din’t het no update today either cause after I had everything ready my behind left the app for a min a din’t save the draft and now I have to do it all again 🤜🏼. Anyhow bet you thought you would’t get nothing today did ya? Also did ya peep my rebranding of the blog?

Reader here is Replaced by Dokucha which dtands for reader in japanese for the enjoyment of both reader and oc character readers

"Well, I'm on my kidnapped arc again," Dokucha sighed as she once again found herself on the shoulders of what she guessed to be another slave trader, foolishly thinking to be their lucky day at having found a mermaid.

"Hey, I really advise against this. I doubt you are going to leave with just a slap on the wrist if they find out you did this.

"Shut up, you damn brat, if you know what's good for you!" he growled.

Don't say I didn't warn you," she grumbled with a roll of their eyes.

"Come on, Brother Marco! I didn't get hurt," Dokcuha screamed, trying to be heard by the sound of the wind as she dangled from her brother's talons.

"That's not the point here, Dokucha." He huffed as he made his way closer to the mother ship, leaving behind a scalding inferno as Ace got rid of the slaver's HQ.

"And what is?" she asked, letting out a slight 'oomph' as Marco dropped her on the ship's deck and gracefully landed beside her.

"The point is you can't be that reckless-yoi," he admonished with a shake of his head.

"I couldn't help it! They just had the prettiest pearls I had seen. I just wanted a closer look, that is all. Turns out they were fake anyways, should have known," she huffed

"This is what I mean-yoi. You can't just barge in without thinking of the consequences," he called, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You're exaggerating!" she sneered, crossing her arms and looking away from him in a petulant manner.

"Am I? Dokucha, this is the third time this week; one of these days, we won't make it in time," he shot back, his tone slowly rising.

"Don't look away from me when I'm talking, Dokucha." he admonished

"Or what?"

"Alright, Alright, why don't ya take a breather?" Thatch cut in, putting his hands on Marco's shoulders as he guided him away.

Dokucha rolled her eyes as she watched the two men share hushed conversations, with Marco's coming out like hisses as he let his annoyance bubble to the top as he eventually left the two be, stomping his way to the clinic.

"I really don't see what his issue is," she grumbled as Thatch approached her, giving her a small slap to the back of her head and ignoring the whine she gave him as she rubbed the spot.

"AH! AH! Thatch that really hurts!" she cried as he pulled her by the ear inside the boat.

"Stop that carryin on!" he shot back, effectively shushing the girl as they made their way into her quarters.

"Sit," he ordered, pointing at her bed.

"But-

"Sit!" he repeated, deciding to ignore the colorful swears she let out under her breathe as she obliged craddling her now bright red ear.

"Here's what's gonna happen," he stated

"First of all, you are going to apologize to Marco, and then you are going to change this whole act or so. Help me!"

"What?! Why would I apologize to him?! He was diggin' into me for no reason!"

"Dokucha, I have three speeds right now, on, off, and don't push your luck. Marco had to go into the island to save your pretty behin' from getting taken again and you just acted as if nothin was wrong!"

"No one asked him to do it!" she seethed, gripping the bedsheets underneath her until her knuckles turned white.

"And yet he did!" he growled, making the young mermaid wince, at which he took notice and let out a small sigh.

"Lord help me over the fence," he muttered, kneeling in front of the girl

"Dokucha, he is just tryin' to help ya; just like all of us, he is worried about what can become of you if they managed to get ya into the slave industry." He called, putting his hand on her cheek and watching as she leaned into it

"Ya'r a very special girl Dragonet, and people often wanna take advanatage of tha, all they will see is your scales and rare colors. We don't wanna lose ya."

"I know"

"Right, so you understand he's not trying to harass ya?"

"Yeah, I just got a lil angry. I wanted to explore, and I'm always stopped because of my scales," She called, gesturing to her psychedelic-colored fins

"That's alright. I can go with ya if ya still wanna explore?"

"Will you?!" she called, shooting up, eyes sparkling

"After ya apologize ta Marco."

"Ugh!"

Also I tried my hand and making headers n dividers and now I have my own! I made three sets, these are for the child!reader so they are obviously more childish and breezy (?)

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

@epochal-oracle

[somegrumpynerd]

Thinking about how Nightmare has 4 mortals and 3 of them are so so bad at taking care of themselves

[moinsbienquekaworu]

We're leaving Saturday morning, I just took basically all of my clothes out of my closet and piled them near my suitcase so we know what I'm taking, and seeing my closet all empty (except for all the stuff I never wear I'm not taking with me) is like. Oh my god I'm leaving and I'm not coming back for months. Every time I leave for holidays I think "oh I should take this and this and this and this juust in case, yeah it's just a week but what if I really need my thick socks in the middle of summer?" before I restrain myself and just take three t-shirts, but now that I have the opportunity to pack literally everything in there, it feels wrong. I should not actually be packing up every piece of clothing I still wear. The clothes that stay at home are proof that I'm coming back, if I take them with me too there's no reason for me to go back!

[fairymint]

Teensy bit of an fyi, but sometime next month? or so? My activity may change again! Work wants me to undergo training for Customer Service. What I'm guessing is that my activity will go up- I'll be training in mornings some days, and the job is more my style; i'm better at helping people than i am at idle talk, and will be less social up front in the meantime between calls, doing more shelving work in the back.

If i get morning shifts, I'll have all evening to do what I want, whether that be crash for a lil while, or RP~

[midnite-c6]

thanos and namgyu putting your bed in between theirs 🙏🙏 even if you chose to stop playing the game they are still making you go to the circle side to sleep and perhaps that night they could change your mind about the next time you vote..

this trope is js the best fr in another life im an X picker and these two teach me to b obedient to their requests💔

thanos & nam-gyu imagine !!!!!! pt. 3 💓

warnings: 18+ DARK content, noncon, sa

pleassee read at ur own risk

soooo, they're literally like dogs tryna chase you, even to as forcing you to be next to them : "shitheads, no matter what, i'm still gonna pick X. i'm not gonna be easily convinced." you tell them firsthand, and they both laugh to themselves

"she obviously won't listen to us, you think her stupid brain could handle it?" nam-gyu complained to thanos, annoyed by how thanos was so persistent in making you switch sides. you scoff since he wasn't so quiet in saying that either, "hey, fuck you, you think I'M stupid enough to play again? don't wanna die than-" "shut up, cunt." nam-gyu cuts you off, placing his hand on your mouth to shut you up, the cold metal of his ring grazing your warm skin. your instant reaction was to bite him, "agh- i'll fucking kill y-" "calm down! everybody chiiiillllll." thanos, like a saviour, stopped nam-gyu from hitting you. "i'm sure we can all have a fair agreement, everybody gets what they want. right, pretty?" thanos turned to look at you, pushing his face awfully close to yours. "and what i want iss.... you." he stares directly into your eyes, that creepy smirk with eyes you KNOW isn't sober at all.

"you could scream and cry all you want, but you know noone in this room would be bothered to help you, girl." nam-gyu whispers into your ears whilst thanos carries you to the bathroom..

nsfw beloww ＼⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠／ ->

you were now naked, your sweaty body laying on the filthy bathroom floor, noone could hear your cries for help when nam-gyu's cock forces you to deepthroat him, his hand pulling on your hair to further be balls-deep inside your mouth.. you'd choke on him, saliva dripping all over his dick and your chin. you couldn't scream... and you couldn't fight it either, if it weren't for thanos' stupid, rough hands wrapped around your arms, pinning them to the ground, your legs placed on his shoulders as his tongue laps up and down your folds.. you try your best to wiggle away (even tho its impossible) and thanos notices, "don't even.. don't even try to pretend, baby." you could feel him smile against your pussy, that sensation leaving you to moan against nam-gyu's cock. "been trying to suck in all your juices, pretty, and.. they just keep comin' out..." thanos mocks in a baby voice, "you're dripping... so you're actually a slut...a whore, huuhhh, not that cool, confident typa girl?" you cry, but.. why did you like the sensation? his warm tongue in and out of your cunt. at this point, the ecstacy that was in his mouth was getting your pussy high. "m'not into whores like you," thanos frowns and slides his' tongue up against your clit, biting it harshly, which made you yelp in pain, causing you to lightly bite nam-gyu's dick. he hissed, roughly slapping your face. "bitch!" he pulls your hair to face you, "do that one more fucking time and i'll speeden up your death, fuck." thanos' fingers came on cue, middle and ring finger plunging inside you, making you speechless, mouth open to nam-gyu's comment. he just takes it as an invitation to stuff your mouth again, leaving a low groan at the action.

"y'know dude,," thanos looks up at nam-gyu, "maybe we should keep her, after we win." nam-gyu scoffed, flicking your forehead, "you think you deserve to live, huh?" thanos chuckled, rubbing his fingers against your clit, he doesn't care if it felt good, you were just a toy afterall, "think about it.. she feels good, right? she'll be good for in the long run, trust me, man." "pft." "trust me! her cunts still tight, anyway, right princessssss?" your visions blurry, your will to live gone, still, atleast you're useful to someone or two, two of the most evilest dumbasses you'll ever encounter in your life.

[crookedteethed]

HOW i slept with your father | r.c.

Pairing: (older)Bestfriend's Dad Rafe! x Fem!reader

Summary: In which you tell your best friend how you accidentally slept with her father...oops.

Warnings: 18+ Semi-smut (protected p in v) (smut showed through flashback), age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Rafe is in his early forties), cursing, ocs, unrealistic reactions?, hints at Rafe being a fuckboy, I also can't tell if Rafe preyed on reader (you decide for yourself)

A/N: This story is really just reader telling her best friend about her night with Rafe, lmk if you want an actual smutty fic with bestfriend dad Rafe (heart emoticon)

bfd masterlist | main masterlist(s) | taglist | Word count: 1.6k

"Maribella, I had sex with your Father."

There, you said it. Your guilty conscience has been cleared. Your mind has been restored, and you can stop thinking about how much of a terrible friend you are because you're really not. You told the truth.

It's like that old stupid proverb, something about the truth setting you free or you setting the truth free, something like that.

There had been a moment of silence. A moment in which Maribella had slowly turned around from her lowboy vanity, half of her face the color of rose red from the blush powder she'd been frantically beating on her cheeks--you two were going out tonight. 

In that moment of silence, you glanced at the ticking clock up on Maribella's wall. It was 8:50 pm, and the boys-- the ones you and Maribella met on the beach that evening, were supposed to pick you both up in thirty minutes. 

"Gross." Maribella mumbles, returning to her vanity mirror and continuing to powder her cheeks. "You aren't going to be my new stepmother now, are you?" She says. 

You looked at the framed photo on Marbella's vanity--the photo of a smallish Maribella with chubby cheeks and missing baby teeth sandwiched between a very young Mr. Cameron and Maribella's Late mother (She wasn't dead, just not in Maribella's life after the divorce). 

You think to yourself how much of a resemblance your friend shares with her father--the same cerulean-colored eyes and dusky blond hair--you remember thinking this that night in which you fucked Mr. Cameron. 

You remember having to close your eyes shut while his girthy length pile drove into you during missionary, but Rafe had insisted on keeping your eyes open, or he wouldn't have let you cum that time. "Eyes on me, baby." he said, lightly tapping your cheek.

"No, not if you don't want me to." you said.

Maribella hums.

"To make it even, you can sleep with my father." you suggested, which cause Maribella to scrunch up her face in her backwards reflection.

"Your father's gross and old." She says. "and besides, isn't he still with that women?"

"My mother? Yes."

You watch from your spot on Maribella's bed as she gets up from her vanity and enters her walk-in closet.

"At least I get the appeal with my father." She shouts from the other room.

Minutes later, Maribella emerges from her closet, no longer in her silk bathrobe but in a simple white slip dress. 

"How do I look?" she asks you.

"Cute." you tell her.

She hums again, being satisfied with your response. Then, Maribella goes back to her vanity to continue doing her makeup.

"So, tell me." She says. "Tell me how'd you fucked my dad."

You shrug. "It just happened one time." and many other times afterward.

"Y'know." Maribella turns around excitedly. "Out of all the women my dad has slept with, you're the first one I ever gotten to talk to about it, so what was he like?"

Now it was your turn to scrunch up your face in disgust. "Maribella, this is gross. I'm not going to tell you how your dad fucks in bed."

"No fair." she whines. "I tell you about all the guys I've slept with."

You raise your eyebrow, to be fair she had a point.

"Let's just pretend my dad isn't my dad or Mr. Cameron; he's just Rafe, some stupid boy you fucked; now tell me everything."

Rafe was just some stupid guy you had fucked, but he wasn't a boy; he was all man--which is what had you enamored by him--it was either that or he was the first guy actually to tend to the needs of being wanted that had you so enamored by him.

 Unlike other guys you had been with, Rafe was attentive and considerate, making sure to meet your needs and desires. That's what made him stand out and had you so enamored.

This is why you kept coming back.

It was the night of Maribella's 21st birthday party. In your retellings of the story, you failed to mention how Rafe had kept staring at you that night. Every time you encountered each other, his eyes would first wander to your lips and then linger on your breast--which was practically spilling out the top of your corset. And each time you labeled him "Mr. Cameron," he would insist on you calling him "Rafe" because you were no longer a child. 

And it was liberating that Rafe did not see you as a child anymore, now seeing you for who you are: an adult woman. 

You also failed to mention when you spotted Rafe and his then-date, some black-haired women equally his age, arguing on the upstairs deck of Tanny Hill.

You didn't tell Maribella that you overheard Rafe's date yell at him: "Don't call me the next time you're horny, call Mrs. Young Pussy instead." Before storming out.

You kept in how Rafe had called you Beautiful that night, you didn't keep in how much that made you blush, after Maribella had said "Gross."

You exaggerated how much you had drunk that night to make it seem like a blackout drunk story—was it 10 shots? 20? You've forgotten, you told Maribella.

You told Maribella how after you and Rafe carried a shit-fazed Maribella to her bedroom, Rafe told her you didn't have to go home as the rest of the guests did; you could stay.

"You're always welcomed to stay" His exact words.  

You also left out that moment in which you and Rafe shared in the kitchen sharing a bottle of wine, in which you confronted him about his date leaving mad, and in his exact words:

"Women my age are just so uptight."

And though you hadn't quite understood what he meant, you nodded anyway.

He then says: "I'm sure you can understand that, but in reverse, with men your age."

"Men my age are stupid and don't know what they want." you responded.

"That's a shame." Rafe had told you. "Because I know what I want."

And you knew it wasn't the weed you smoked earlier or the few sips of red wine you were having that altered your perception to make you think Rafe was getting closer to you; Rafe was getting closer to you. 

By the end of the conversation, Rafe was no longer on the opposite side of the kitchen island; he was now standing beside you, the skin of his elbow touching yours. 

Your breathing had become uneven as Rafe's gaze remained steadfastly locked with yours, but you deliberately avoided meeting his eyes, for this was your best friend's father.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to think of a way to break the silence. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to look into the intense blue of Rafe's eyes.

You didn't tell Maribella when you told Rafe that you weren't uptight, which was a quip to his response about knowing what he wants. And then he kissed you.     

The kiss took both of you by surprise, but it was undeniable that there was a spark between you. As your lips met, time seemed to stand still, and in that moment, you knew that this was the beginning of something extraordinary.

"And then we had sex." you concluded to Maribella.

Sex would be an understatement, you fucked.

Rafe had placed pecks on every inch of your body as he carried you into his bedroom, a room that was always off-limits when you and Maribella used to play with each other growing up. 

You were too enamored by Rafe's bergamot scent and how he kept calling you beautiful with each peck to your flesh to examine his room and hypothesize why this room of all rooms was once off limits. 

You were too overwhelmed when you felt his large muscular hands tear your clothes off your body to notice the picture of Maribella sitting on Rafe's bed side table.

You were too overcome with lust and craving when Rafe requested that you retrieve a condom from his nightstand, where you intentionally dislodged the photograph of Maribella.

Out of sight out of mine.

As Rafe carefully rolled the condom down his reddening shaft, you feigned an air of eager anticipation, so much so that you almost missed when Rafe remarked:

"You have no idea how long I've been longing for this moment."

Right then, without a warning, Rafe plunged himself deep inside of you like no man has ever done before. 

Your eyes widened, and your mouth formed the shape of an 'o' as you felt his thick cock split your cunt open, kiss your cervix, and sheath deep inside your belly. 

You counted the number of times Rafe said your pussy was tight; it was a number of 10.

At this point, Maribella no longer sat at her vanity and was now sitting beside you on her bed. 

"Oh, lame." She says. "So it was just a drunken mistake, a one-night stand kind of thing?"

You hummed. This reminds you that you should cut things off with Rafe since Maribella knows now. 

Right then in the moment Maribella's phone dings.

"The boys are here." She says. "You ready?"

And as you and Maribella walked down the spiral staircase of Tanny Hill, your friend told you:

"Now that I think of it, I'm not that pissed that you slept with my dad; as I said, I get it: he's rich, and he's good-looking for his age; what other qualities do you need in a man?"

In which you hummed again.

"Now if this was a recurring thing, that's a whole other story--Oh! hi Daddy."

As you and Maribelle descended to the base of the stairs, you were greeted by Rafe.

Rafe looked at you first before greeting his daughter.

You made an effort to maintain eye contact with him, despite his patronizing gaze, resisting the temptation to steal glances at him in his form-fitting shirt that accentuated his muscular physique.

You focused on maintaining a calm and composed demeanor, refusing to let his condescension affect you. Instead, you redirected your attention to the conversation at hand.

"Where are you girls headed?" He asks, addressing no one in particular.

"We're going out," Maribella says, sensing the tension and tugging your wrist towards the door.

"Don't wait up for me; we'll be out all night," Maribella said, Rafe's eyes never leaving yours as you and Maribella exited the door.

The boys you'd met earlier—Steven and Conrad, you think their names were—were parked outside Tanny Hill, blasting some obnoxious music from their car speakers.

"Oh wait, I think I forgot something," you tell Maribella as you approach the car. 

You don't wait for Maribella's approval before jogging back inside her house, where her father awaited you behind the front door with a sly smirk on his lips.

"I knew you couldn't resist telling me a goodbye," he remarked, just as the two of you leaned in for a messy, passionate kiss.

Knowing you were pressed for time, you were the one to break the kiss. 

'Same time again tomorrow night?' he asks, his voice filled with a mix of hope and desire as he wipes away the remnants of your shared moment. 

"Same time." you reassured.

[captain-huggy-bear]

The Sleeves

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Short Fem!Reader

Warnings: Quinn thinking you're hot af, so slightly mature in that sense but nothing extreme.

Summary: Jersey sleeves are just a little too long for you.

Notes: Reader is described as short but not a specific height. I, a short person, could be wrong here, but I assume the taller you are the longer your arms are hense the height focus in this fic. Also it's a 43 Hughes jersey not Quinn's own one because we're all different sizes and I don't want anyone to be unable to imagine it, y'know????

Had this idea cause my Jack Jersey has super long sleeves and it makes me feel safe and silly (I'm getting a Quinn jersey for X-mas from my brother and i'm very excited)

It's baffling actually, when you really think about it, that you'd been dating a pro-Hockey player for nearly 8 months and hadn't owned a single jersey until now. Sure, Quinn had tried to convince you to just borrow one of his, his desire to see you in his jersey practically an obsession, but half the time they were sweat stained and stinky and you kind of just wanted one designed for you and your body. So you'd gone to his games in just your normal clothes, sometimes you wore the stupid t-shirt Jack and Luke got you with Quinn's face on it for your birthday, but you'd never worn a hockey jersey.

This had seemed a shame and you'd decided enough was enough. You went to all Quinn's home games and tried to go to as many away games as possible, you thought that surely you should, as a dutiful girlfriend wear a #43 jersey. It felt wrong, somehow, not to have at least one, to wear one at least once.

So you'd bought one, taken your time considering which version to get, which size you preferred. You hadn't told Quinn because any time you wanted to buy something for yourself he always did it for you, claiming he had more money than he knew what to do with. As sweet as it was, sometimes you wanted to spend your own hard earned money. Plus, you'd wanted it to be a surprise. It was practically on his bucket list at this point, it felt like something...big.

So you'd kept it quiet, bought a #43 Hughes black skate jersey in a size just this side of too big, oversized for the comfort factor. What you hadn't anticipated was how you felt wearing it...or Quinn's reaction.

It was just fabric, just a jersey but the moment you slipped it on you felt...safe. The fabric was soft against your skin, not tight or claustrophobic and the sleeves...oh the sleeves were your favourite part. You were short, that was a fact of life, you hadn't grown upwards since you were 14 and you'd made your peace with it. Didn't really have a choice, given that you spent all your time around hockey players. Some of whom were absolute giants, Meyers came straight to mind. Quinn was considered a smaller player in the business and even he made you feel short. Being short, had the effect though of making the sleeves of your jersey gigantic.

You couldn't really describe the sheer joy you felt when the sleeves went past your fingertips absolutely swallowing your hands. You felt like a little kid again, you felt comfy, and safe. Maybe it was scratching some sort of anxiety itch in your brain or maybe it was that you'd missed this feeling from when you were a kid, the feeling of being so so small that everything else felt giant, but you loved it either way.

Your plan was to hide the jersey until Quinn's next game, ready to surprise him when he looked for you during warmups, ready for him to realise you were finally wearing his name and number. Something he'd been not so subtly pushing for months every single time he conveniently left a jersey out next to your game day clothes before he left for the rink.

The moment he left for the game after a goodbye kiss and some I love yous, you'd put the jersey he'd left on the bed away (no matter how many times he washed it it still had the lingering smell of hockey...) and reached into the back of the wardrobe, underneath a series of boxes and miscellaneous items, for your own. You'd hidden it well, so far back, it was actually a struggling to get to.

You'd slipped it on over your jumper and layers, letting the sleeves fall over your fingertips. That familiar safe, giddy feeling filling you as you twirled in a circle in front of the mirror before dropping your shoulders, closing your eyes and just enjoying it. There was something about the physical sensation that was enjoyable, the way it felt, the sense of comfort it brought, but it went past that. It felt good to look in the mirror and see Quinn's number on your arms, across your back, his surname plastered in the large font. It felt good to wear a reminder of him.

You opened your eyes after a few moments of flapping the long sleeves about, a childish joy in the flap of fabric. Your sight snagging in the mirror on the doorframe behind you, Quinn leaning a shoulder against it, kit bag at his feet. He had softest smile on his face, the sort of smile that made his eyes crinkle gently and had his teeth poking out just so.

You spin around to face him startled, not expecting him to be back. Your fingers meeting and twisting together, hidden beneath the lengths of sleeve fabric.

"Did you...did you forget something?"

It's obvious to him that you're trying to avoid the elephant in the room, the surprise he's clearly ruined. It's not his jersey, but it is and it's all he's wanted to see you in for months now...Fuck, you look good in his jersey. You've brought it in a size that's just the right sort of oversized, swallowing familiar curves under layers of black, yellow and red fabric. How you make something that hides every part of you look so good he doesn't really understand, but he thinks that maybe that just says more about how he feels about you than anything else.

Your hands are invisible, swallowed by fabric and his name and number across your back were practically searerd into his retina. A memory pressed into the pages of his mind. It's stupid, possessive, ridiculous, caveman-ish but, fuck, he likes that you're saying you're his, likes that everyone can see it. That it's his name across your back.

"My number looks good on you..." Quinn bites down on his bottom lip, tilts his head to the side as his eyes trail over you. The way he's looking at you, you'd think you were stood there naked, not swallowed in fabric. It makes your cheeks warm.

"Quinn..." You let out and embarrassed whine, hands coming up to cover your face as he trails his way closer, feet padding softly across the carpet. His gear forgotten in the doorway, the sense of urgency to get the last piece he forgot and get to the rink, gone. Game? What game?

You feel his presence first, feet stopping close to your own, his form towering over you as he wraps his hands gently around your wrists and tugs them free from your face. He's practically grinning at you, that one strand of brunet hair falling across his brow as he leans down towards you.

"The sleeves too, you look cute in it, fuck..." He tugs on the ends of the sleeves, examining the way your hands are swallowed by the fabric. The cute wiggle of them from underneath before being swallowed whole.

"This for me, pretty girl?"

You nod, feeling oddly shy in front of him as his eyes keep following your form like he can't quiet get enough. It's surreal, you've had boyfriends who didn't even look at you like that when you were dolled to the nines, you're just in a jersey, some ordinary clothes, everything covered, nothing special, "...It was supposed to be a surprise...for tonight."

"Ah," he fills in the blanks. He's ruined it by coming back unexpectedly, because he forgot his stupid mouthguard of all things. He imagines it though, being on the ice, looking for you like he always does, his eyes gravitating towards you like he's stuck in your orbit. He can see the way you'd look in the lights of the rink, his number proudly displayed. Could see the way he'd probably stop dead on the ice, probably get a bunch of shit from the guys, can see Petey shoving him with a laugh, but he'd not care at all because you're finally wearing his jersey and he's been waiting for this for months.

"Can you, uh, never take it off?" he laughs, tugging you closer, arms wrapping around you as his fingers trail across the letters making up his name on the back. Memorising the feel of it, his name on you, finally.

"Quinn..."

"What? You look...fuck, you look so good in my jersey, baby, like...unreal..." He means it and you know he means it because he's got that sparkle in his eyes that screams his feelings out loud without a single word.

"...you have a game to get to.." you mumble, face pressing into his chest, trying to hide from him because only Quinn can make you quite this bashful after this length of time together. Only Quinn can seemingly disarm you completely.

He presses a kiss to the top of your hair, cheek pushing against the crown of your head as he rocks you side to side.

"Mmm, you're not gonna take this off, right? You're still going to wear it to the game for me, baby?" There's a little slither of fear that he might have embarrassed you, that you'll hide the jersey away somewhere and he'll never see you in it again.

"...Yeah, i'll still wear it for you..."

He thinks this might just be what he wants for the rest of his life. You in his jersey, you with his name across your back, you...with the name you might one day share proudly taking up space for everyone to see.

In that moment, he realises, he's a complete fucking goner for you. He's well and truly fucked in the best sort of way.

[chrissturnsfav]

Following the anon i sent so I was thinking that singer!reader has always struggled with loving her like thighs and stomach or smt but hear me out if you’re comfortable with it maybe some mentions of self harm like

A scenario

So reader and Chris are laying in bed cuddling or some shit and he’s like tracing his fingers up and don on her thighs and he notices her scars orrr

They’re laying and he compliments her and she goes on a rampage of how she’s not and how ugly her stomach is or smt

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris knows how to make singer!reader feel pretty

tw: mentions of body image issues

you're sat on the edge of the couch in chris' big living room, scrolling through photos on your phone. your gaze lingers a little too long on a paparazzi picture of yourself from last weekend, your legs prominently featured. a familiar wave of self-doubt washes over you, and before you can stop yourself, you mutter under your breath, "fuck, my thighs look huge."

chris, who’s been freestyling under his breath while jotting down lyrics in his notebook across the couch, freezes mid-bar. his head snaps up, and his eyes narrow, like he can’t believe what he just heard.

"hold up, what'd you say ma?"

you glance at him, trying to play it off. "nothing, forget it," you mumble wearily as you shake your head.

"nah, nah, we ain't doin' that." he gets up, his notebook abandoned on the coffee table, and strides over to you. "what’s this bullshit 'bout your thighs?”

you sigh, trying to avoid his gaze, but chris crouches down in front of you, his icy blue eyes locking onto yours.

"they’re just... big," you mumble. "like, bigger than they should be."

chris scoffs like you just insulted his entire existence. "bigger than they should be? mama, stop fuckin' wit me right now."

you try to laugh, but it’s weak. "i’m serious, chris. i see all these girls online with these slim legs, and then there’s me. i just feel...i dunno...out of place, i guess."

he sits beside you, shaking his head, still looking like he’s offended on your thighs’ behalf. "you’re trippin'. hard. have y'seen yourself? like, really looked at y'self? 'cause if y'did," he says, reaching out to lightly squeeze one of your thighs, "you’d know your thighs are perfect. thick, pretty, sexy as hell—are you serious?"

your cheeks heat up, and you roll your eyes, but he’s just getting started.

"y'know what your thighs say to me?” he continues and smirks a bit, leaning in. "they tell me you're perfect, tell me y'got the full package. tell me you’re built like a model, and that i’d be a dumbass not to appreciate you."

you can’t help but laugh at his over-the-top delivery, and he grins, knowing he’s getting through to you as he brushes his fingers lightly over the smooth skin on your thigh.

"listen baby," he starts, using his free hand to gently cup your jaw and turn your face to his, "i know the world tries to tell girls all this bullshit 'bout what they’re supposed to look like, but lemme tell you sum'n real: you are it for me. all o'you. those thighs you’re trippin' over? they’re one of my favorite things 'bout you."

he moves his hand down to your knee, his thumb drawing little circles. "so stop comparin' yourself to edited pictures on the internet, aight? you’re real, 'n you’re beautiful, 'n if anyone’s got a problem wit' that, they can see me 'bout it."

your chest feels lighter, the weight of insecurity lifting under his unwavering gaze and heartfelt words. you smile, finally meeting his eyes.

"okay," you whisper.

"okay?" he teases. "that’s it? after i jus' dropped the most fire compliments of all time?"

you laugh again, swatting his arm. "thank you, chris. really."

"'course," he says, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. "now stop geekin', i gotta go write a verse 'bout how my girl’s got the finest thighs in the game."

you roll your eyes, but your smile lingers long after he’s returned to his notebook on the other side of the couch.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: i'm not comfortable writing about self harm, so i hope this was good!

thank you for reading!! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott

@chrissturnsfav ™

[heich0e]

"sukuna!"

the itadori house is quiet as the call rings out through the narrow halls.

"SU-KU-NA!"

a door somewhere in the apartment flies open, and heavy footfalls land against the floor.

"what the hell are you yelling for?" the elder of the two itadori brothers turns the corner into the living room, sweatpants low on his hips and his chest bare. his glower is fixed upon his little brother, seated with his legs crossed in the centre of the sofa, a throw pillow cradled on his lap.

yuuji pouts.

"i'm bored."

"i'm gonna kick your ass," sukuna mutters under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"wanna go see a movie?" yuuji asks him, his eyes bright with expectation.

"no," sukuna replies flatly.

"what, why?" yuuji complains.

"last time we went to the movies on a friday night we were surrounded by teenagers sucking face for two fuckin' hours,"—he holds up two fingers for emphasis—"i'm not spending my night off watching some seventeen year old snots trying not to cream their jeans just cause they've got a tongue in their mouth for the first time again."

yuuji grimaces a little, both at the memory and his brother's less than enticing use of imagery.

"but i'm bored," yuuji sighs, flopping down onto the sofa with the pillow hugged to his chest.

"so you've said." sukuna lifts an eyebrow. "where's your little minion tonight? lose track of her or something?"

"she's not my minion," yuuji points out.

"co-conspirator then," sukuna rolls his eyes.

yuuji huffs. "she's not answering my calls. i bet she fell asleep after she got home from class."

"still surprised the two of you don't have some kind of weird telepathy goin' on considering how much time the two of you spend together," sukuna drawls. "try tappin' into that. maybe she'll pick up."

yuuji's stares at his brother for a moment, a pensive furrow on his brow.

it's quiet.

sukuna smirks. "gettin' anything?"

yuuji's expression relaxes again, and he slumps further into the sofa. he sighs resignedly. "nothing."

the younger itadori brother surveys the elder for a moment, and sukuna crosses his arms over his chest defensively.

"why are you all sweaty?"

"just got back from a run," sukuna replies curtly.

"you're wasting your night off running?" yuuji asks skeptically.

"yeah, and now i plan on jerking off, taking a shower, and going the fuck to bed—what's it to you?" the elder snaps.

yuuji's nose wrinkles at his brother's crass remark.

"gross," the youngest mutters.

there's the muffled sound of a cell phone chiming somewhere in the room, and yuuji hastens to free the device from the front pocket of his hoodie. his eyes light up when he sees the notification on the screen, hopping up to his feet.

"fushiguro just got off work early and said he'd go to the movies with me!" he cheers excitedly. sukuna rolls his eyes at his brother's enthusiasm as he watches him dash across the living room towards the genkan, clumsily pulling on his sneakers and tugging a cross-body bag over his chest.

"y'know, if you run the whole way there you'll look too eager," sukuna singsongs from where he leans against the wall on the other side of the room. even from such a distance away he can see the blush that paints the tops of his baby brother's cheeks.

"shut up!" yuuji replies, reaching for the doorknob.

"try not to cream your—!" the front door slams behind him before sukuna can finish his remark.

the eldest itadori chuckles a little to himself, shaking his head at his little brother's antics. he reaches up and ruffles the hair at the nape of his neck.

"what would you have done if we really did have a telepathic connection?"

sukuna pauses, his hand still brushing through the back of his hair. he turns to glance down the hallway behind him, only to find you—dressed only in his hoodie, the same one that matches the sweatpants he has on—standing behind him with your hands on your hips.

he smirks a little at the sight, appreciating it for a moment.

"surprised you made it all the way out here," he remarks, his head tilting to the side. "those legs were pretty shaky a couple minutes ago."

"shut up," you mumble, turning your nose up at him indignantly.

"how come everyone's always tellin' me to shut up?" sukuna complains, slinking towards you. he tugs you forward into him by the pocket of his hoodie, his arms snaking around your waist.

"maybe because you deserve it," you remark smugly.

"now is that any way to talk to the guy who just let you cum on his face?" he asks, dipping down until he's nose to nose with you. he watches the way your eyelids flutter a little at his sudden proximity. feels the way your breath breaks on his lips.

"no, but it's the way to talk to the guy who left me right after to go talk about jerking off with his brother," you reply, but it lacks the bite he knows you're aiming for—too breathless to have any real sting.

"aw, were you lonely?" sukuna drawls, inching closer until his smirking mouth is right over yours—close enough to feel the soft, wet heat that radiates from it. practically close enough to taste it.

you shiver a little bit, your facade of indifference fracturing under his nearness. sukuna's smirk splits into a full-blown grin, and before you can even blink he's got you tossed over his shoulder as he carries you back towards his bedroom.

"sukuna! put me down!" you protest, wiggling in his grip. the tips of his fingers dig into the soft give of your bare thighs, keeping you still.

"no can do, kid," he replies easily, ignoring your complaints.

he kicks his bedroom door closed behind him with his heel, and tosses you down onto the rumpled sheets of his bed. you bounce slightly as you land, but eventually settle, leaving you to you stare up at him, your chest heaving, from the mattress below him. he leans over and crawls into his bed overtop of you.

"we've got two hours to kill before he comes back, y'know," sukuna says quietly, dragging his lips up along the edge of your jaw. "how should we pass the time?"

[bloomries]

y-you're too close!

includes : lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, and belphegor.

summary : they get a little too close to your face— and how are you supposed to ignore their mesmerizing eyes or kissable lips?

warnings : gn! reader. kissing (lucifer, satan, belphegor).

LUCIFER

Lucifer had, of course, went to visit you- and you just so happened to be in an empty classroom at the time. He found you rather easily, almost having a sixth sense for your presence. Standing behind you, he watched as read some words from a textbook before writing down an answer.

He then leans down to whisper in your ear, to teasingly praise you for your hardwork, when you turn your head to the side at just that moment— your lips brushing over his.

"L- Lucifer!?" You squeak, before falling out your seat from trying to pull back much too fast. His eyes widen, and he swiftly catches you before you can cause too much of a commotion.

"Are you alright?" He holds back a laugh, meanwhile you're trying to not have your heart explode.

"I'm fine- I just- you were- why were you so close!?" You manage to get out as he puts you back in place, your homework long forgotten by now. He tries to hide the quirk of his lip, but you see it and know he's preparing to tease you.

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to turn your head and try to kiss me." He says, touching his lips and shaking his head. "You must conduct yourself in a more respectful manner."

"You know I wasn't trying to- you just snuck up on me!" Lucifer frowns, still putting on an act special to you. He'd never act in such a silly manner to anyone else.

"But you still kissed me. You'll have to be held accountable." You groan, looking up at him with a dismal expression. You make him almost take pity on you, but then again he was never known as merciful.

"And how do you suppose I make up for my mistakes?"

"Hmm, perhaps kissing me again? On purpose this time, of course."

MAMMON

"Mammon, knock it off," You groan, pushing him away from you. He had been bothering you for the better half of the day, clinging on to you. You don't normally mind, but Mammon also doesn't normally poke your sides and pinch your thighs.

"Noo," He whines, and this naturally leads into you two play wrestling, Mammon ending up with his face perhaps a little too close to yours when he pins you down against the bed. Your eyes widen when you realize just how close he is.

"Hey, let up." You struggle in his grip and he huffs, getting all smug.

"No way. I won fair 'nd squa...re.... ah," That's when Mammon realized just how close to your face he was. "Uh..." He doesn't pull away from you, though his grip loosens. Now you're both messes. Mammon's hot in the face, and you're trying hard to ignore how sweaty your palms have grown.

After a few seconds on bashful staring at each other, Mammon finally pulls away and lets out a shaky loud laugh. "Ha, well, I won. So... I get to stay."

You're still too flustered to deny him, so you just nod wordlessly. However, the tension in the air is thick, and Mammon is like a statue from how he barely moves.

Both of you painfully aware of the obvious affections you two have been showing nonstop over the last few months, but none of it being really faced until just now- when you two were basically a inch away from kissing.

"Should we, uhm, y'know, talk... about what just-"

"I just remembered I have to do, uh, dishes!" Mammon stood up abruptly. "I- I'll talk to ya later!" Oh, this is definitely going to cause a few awkward days in the House of Lamentation.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan and you had been up for hours on the new game he got, collecting items, ravaging villages, defeating enemies, and it all lead to now— the final boss. Through sweat, blood, and tears you two managed to defeat the final boss in a total of four minutes and fifty six seconds.

"Y- Yes!" You both shouted, cheering and jumping up from your seats, clinging on to each other with damn near tear in your eyes. "Yes! We did it!" Levi cried, squeezing you tightly.

You laugh with joy, pulling away from the hug only to be met face-to-face with Levi.

"Didn't doubt us for a second," You smile, a flirty lilt in your tone that has Levi sudden very conscious on how close you two are. Your eyes flicker down to his lips and he gasps- were you- no, no way! he was a gross otaku! you must be mistaken! yes, that's it!

And thus, Levi is quick to push your face away and accidentally push you back into your gaming chair. "Ow," you pout, and Levi gasps once more.

"S- Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, Levi, really," You chuckle, and he awkwardly laughs with you. He sits down back in his seat, letting the end music play as he messes with the hem of his shirt.

"I thought, I thought you were going to kiss me for a second," He admits bashfully, chuckling as if that was impossible. You quirk a brow, leaning back in your seat and eyeing him.

"I was."

"Haha, yeah exactly you weren't- wait, what!?"

"I said, I was. I was going to kiss you, Levi." You push yourself forward, your face once again impossibly close to his and he chokes on his own breath before squeezing his eyes shut, lips puckering forward a little.

You press a finger to his lips, and he peaks an eye open- disappointed. "Aw, too bad you missed your chance today, how about you try again tomorrow?" Ah, he most definitely would- if he didn't talk himself down by then!

SATAN

"Wait, so, forward, right- uhm, oh!" You had asked Satan to teach you how to dance upon getting the invitation to Diavolo's upcoming ball. Apparently demons love ballroom dancing. However, in your attempt to learn, you've come to realize that you're dancing skills are possibly a little rusty.

"Sorry," You chuckle, you had tripped over your own feet for the umpteenth time, but at least it was Satan's? You sigh, looking up at him as he looks down at you, and oh. Oh wow.

It was quiet, except for the classical music playing softly in the background. Your heart is racing, and you fear that in your close proximity he might be able to feel it. He fears the same, his grasp on you tightening. He has that charming smile resting on his features, despite the storm in his mind!

How desperately you want to kiss him- and had his eyes always been so green?

Your certain your cheeks are on fire, and you want so badly for the ground to swallow you up. You can't form any words, just staring like a lovesick fool- and Satan is doing no better. He's at a loss for words, truly. How could he even begin to form a sentence worth interrupting this moment?

Then, a book falls to the ground with a loud thud- a mischievous tabby meowing and stretching somewhere. You both pull away, Satan's cheeks growing a rosy color as he clears his throat.

"Maybe we should take a break? I'll... I'll go get us some waters," You say, about to leave, however Satan can't help himself and pulls you by the waist towards him.

"Please forgive me," He whispers, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Kiss m-" With that, he kisses you deeply. A kiss that certainly will make itself into your dance routine with Satan at the ball next week.

ASMODEUS

"What do you think?" Asmo asks, scooting closer to you, showing off the new look he was attempting- and obviously he was nailing it. He looked perfect, but that wasn't unusual in his case.

"Pretty as always," You say, not really looking at him. He was always showing off looks that were amazing, so you already knew that it was perfect. He whines, shimmying closer to you.

"You're not looking!" He pouts, and you sigh, turning your head abruptly- not expecting him to be so close. Oh. He did look very pretty. And now your cheeks are warm. "Thank you! So, how does it look?" He asks, as if the close proximity wasn't bothering him.

"You look nice- good- you look... good..." He frowns. Well good wasn't good enough. He pulls back and checks in the mirror, but finds not a single product out of place. He whips back around towards you, getting even closer to your face.

"Just good?"

"You look beautiful," You say, and he blinks in shock at your earnestness. He's glad the make up is covering up the blush that surely spreads on his cheeks.

"Oh my, are you falling for my good looks?" His teasing comment ruins the moment, and you scoff, shaking your head as you turn to look back at your phone.

"You wish, princess." You say, pushing him away by the shoulder. You ignore the heart palpitations as you scroll through your DDD.

BEELZEBUB

"Oh, Beel, you got something right there..." You say, pointing to your cheek to where Beelzebub had some sauce. Beel looks down at the food in his hands- both hands were pretty occupied, so he leaned in for you to wipe it away for him.

"W- What?-" It seems he underestimated how small the table was, though, as he leaned in way too close! Face hot, you lift a shaky hand to wipe away the sauce with a napkin and then he shoots you the biggest, most kissable grin in the world.

"Thanks!" He chuckles, before leaning back and taking another bite of his food. You can only stare at the table now though, lest you wish to continue your rather romantic thoughts.

Beel notices this, and once again leans in close— Damn it, is he trying to give you a heart attack!? He furrows his brows as he inspects you, before frowning. Shit, did he realize that you were having definitely not friendly thoughts?

"Are you okay? You look a lil' sick." He says, leaning back. You let a silent breath of relief before nodding.

"I'm fine, just... just a little hot, that's all." And technically, you weren't lying.

BELPHEGOR

"Shuddup," Belphegor groans, rolling over on to his side to face you, before grabbing your waist and pulling you into him. You gasp, not from the action- honestly, this is a rather typical evening with Belphegor (he claims he "sleeps better" when you're near him) but you gasp due to how close your face is to his.

Usually you land near his chest or vise versa, but this face-to-face view was definitely making you grow quiet. Belphegor was pleased with this, before he realized it took quite a lot to usually shut you up. He peaks an eye open with a frown.

"What's your deal?" When you don't respond and instead try to wiggle out of his arms, he tightens his grip and gets even closer. "Hm? Trying to get away?"

"Yes! Let me gooo!"

"Nah," He grins, realizing what's happening. "I think you don't really want me to let you go anyways, right? You wanna stare at my face longer? Wanna kiiisss meeee?" You groan, wishing to strangle the annoying demon. He laughs when you don't deny him.

"I knew it," He flutters his lashes close and pouts his lips out a little, trying to appear 'pretty' or... something? You just shake your head, done with his teasing. Grabbing his collar, you admire his natural beauty for a second— after all, who knows when you'll be so close to his face again— before catching him off guard with a kiss

Letting go of you out of shock, you're quick to run away, leaving Belphegor in a stunned, blushing mess. Stupid humans...~

[cinnablu3]

RECKLESS - JUST TO STOP THE FEELINGS

Masterlist

Happy holidays! Please stay safe and take care of yourselves! It's Currently midnight I have work in the morning and night shift this Christmas 😞 wish me luck!

"Hime don't be so upset." You hiccup clinging to Utahime arms. Wiping your tears, trying processing what just happened. One moment you're standing waiting for Choso to grab some drinks and the next your ex boyfriend is begging you back and suddenly his lips are on yours.

"Shoko knew, he was coming but didn't say anything..is she genuinely stupid?" Utahime said in anger, pulling Name closer.

"I'm sorry for causing so much trouble." Looking up at Utahime sighs, giving you a small smile.

"It's not your fault y'know Name, she could've brought it up and we could've went to the club instead." Utahime rubs her temple. "I just wanted to know what her thought process was."

"Knowing her, she misses the old times." Replying feeling more relaxed in Utahime arms. "I'm worried for Choso, they locked him up too." You frowned.

"He's fine, knowing his good looks they'll let him out." Utahime jokes stifling a laugh from you. "He definitely cares about you, so don't let his imprisonment go to waste."

"I won't."

"Good, it's getting late. Let's go to bed."

"Sharing a bed together Hime? How lewd!"

"Yeah let's hold hands while we're at it."

They both laughed enjoying each other's presence.

Taglist is now closed and full 💞 @miiiturix @superdonkeypatroleggs @inthedarkshadows000 @kumori-suwan @chilichopsticks @prized-jules 1ndee @lov3vivian @yuuuumii @chiiinglebells @sakurayashiro @ghostlyfanenemy @cisseadven @totallygyomeiswife bemebiu @chckn-pi @for-hearthand-home @sh0ot1ngst4r @muthic @lukaerith-morningstar meowforluv @uniquenicefangirl @4rmins @corvid007 @beautifulwitchcandy @iluv-ace @tartartagliaboo @genxnarumi lafrone @coffee-addicted-demigod @cupidsblonde depressedemosantaclaus @drownedbytears @s777athv @linaaeatsfamilies @lun4rchive @moonlitwitchdaisy @kooksbunnnn @shoma-nom @reagan707 @kaged-kitty b0nez9 btsinthesoop @shokosbunny @sleepykittyenergy @sad-darksoul @ghostswhoretbh @raquel12 @missthatgirl @explosivelywuisa @bunviixo @rifran @therealanxiety @harryzcherry

[writingthroughmyass]

Service Animal (Part one)

My mans Logan Howlett X Reader (afab)

Part two here

WARNING: This is soooo self insert it's not even funny. I get weird migraines that present like absent seizures and thought it would be nice to get a warning beforehand by my favourite babygirl Logan (like my own personal service animal). This is gonna be in three parts, it's mostly finished and ends in smooshing so be ready for that ;)

UPDATE: turns out my migraines are actually mini strokes :)

The after effects of using your power was kicking your ass.

In a daze, you made it to your private room and went straight to your bathroom. You felt the nausea rising up in your throat and quickly opened the toilet lid to throw up. 

The multiple alternate realities of what could have happened tonight flashed before your eyes. Ororo, Jean, Scott, Logan, all collapsed on the floor, dead. Their screams played in a relentless loop in your head; you were dissociating badly. Your surroundings melted away until there was nothing but the countless ways they could have died if you hadn't bent reality to avoid it. 

Always. It's always like this. 

Gradually, you begin to return to your body, only to realise there was someone in the room with you, holding your hair back. 

Terrified, your body snapped up from its kneeling position to face the intruder. 

“Woah, hey, it's just me. Calm down.”

“L-Logan?” you slurred, suddenly feeling self conscious of the smell of your breath. 

“I knocked and called out but you didn't answer. So I came in to check on you.” 

You eyed him, feeling suspicious of how out of character this was for him. 

“Why are you looking at me like I'm lying? I'm not totally heartless,” he said defensively.

“Why'd you come in the first place to see me though? I thought you were pissed with me,” you grumble.

When you'd overdone it with your powers, Logan threw a hissy fit and yelled at you for going too far. While you knew it was out of care, it still rankled you that he was acting as if you were a child. You knew what you were doing. 

“I… just had a bad feeling,” he said quietly. “Y'know how I've got my heightened senses. I could tell something was off with you.”

“I'm fine. Just need to rest. This is normal for me.”

You turned around to the bathroom sink and grabbed your toothbrush. You gave your teeth and tongue a quick clean, wanting to just wash all the blood off your body so you could sleep. 

It felt like you had a raging hangover from drinking Everclear all night. 

When you turned from the sink you noticed Logan was still there. 

“Uh… need something? I wanna get ready for bed and pass out.”

“Yeah, I need to know you're okay,” he says.

“I told you, I'm fine. I'm going to shower so please leave.” 

Your patience was wearing thin. But you were also aware that some of it was nervousness coming out as aggression. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, although his attitude left much to be desired. His behaviour tonight was quite frankly really sweet and it was psyching you out. You were already in the midst of losing touch with reality and his actions were so contradictory to his usual self that it was causing you a psychotic break. 

“You're not listening to me,” he ground out, losing some of his own patience. “I'm telling you that something is wrong with you.” 

You stared silently at him, mouth slightly hanging open. 

“Okay, that came out the wrong way.” He was ruffling his hair in agitation. Cute. “What I'm saying is- I'm… ah…”

“Please, Logan, I just want a shower so I can go to bed…”

“Look, I'll just wait in your room and I'll leave once you're in bed safe, ‘kay,” he says, turning to the door and walking out, shutting it behind himself. 

Fuck. 

You just wanted to be alone so you could have a good cry. You were incredibly confused about what in the world was going on but now you were really getting scared. And Logan's words were not helping. 

What if he's right and this time your connection with reality has been completely severed? But what else were you supposed to do? Let them all die? Even with your special training with Charles, your power was so unruly and chaotic that it was terrifying. You had to be careful or there would be no way back. 

You got undressed and turned on the shower, stepping inside. It was only once you were under the hot stream of water that you realised you'd left your pyjamas in your bedroom. You groaned aloud. Fuck, now you'd have to walk in front of Logan in nothing but a towel. Why the fuck was he here? You wished he'd just leave. 

You watched the dried blood wash away from your skin, turning the floor of your shower a bright red. 

You felt your stomach drop and your head turned fuzzy. The sound of your shower disappeared. The safety of your surroundings melted away. 

Scott, his eyes gouged out from his head. Ororo’s limbs crumpled every which way, her eyes clouded over not because of her powers but because she was lifeless. Jean, her neck holding on to her body by a thread, her cranium blasted open and her brain dripping down her face. 

Logan, on the ground, ripped to shreds, his Adamantium bones showing through his torn flesh. And the wounds weren't healing. 

It was always like this. As if you were being punished for playing god. It was as if all the horrible realities you prevented from happening still lived on but solely in your mind, driving you insane. It left scars of trauma on your psyche, Charles had told you. So you had to be careful in how you used your powers or you may become completely untethered from reality. A fate worse than death. 

Vaguely, you could hear yourself mumbling and gasping and swallowing loudly, trying to find some kind of equilibrium in the mess of your mind. 

You were trying desperately to connect back with your body but at the same time you didn't want to because it only meant having to fight this same battle over and over again. 

Seeing your friends die before your very eyes in hundreds of thousands of different ways, experiencing each traumatic story to its conclusion. Only to have it all unravel into a reality where none of it happened, but the whiplash makes you doubt this reality too. It's always too good to be true. You feel it in your bones that you don't deserve this. That the way you twist reality is wrong and one day it'll catch up to you in the worst possible way. 

You feel water running down your face and remember that you're in the shower. You try to ground yourself and come back to your body. You hear the water splashing, feel the ground beneath your feet, the solid embrace around you. 

You try to move but you can't. Finally, you snap fully to your body. Your mind is groggy, feeling like you'd been hit by a truck. But there's the unmistakable warmth surrounding you, dense and as unyielding as brick. 

Your face is roughly yanked upwards and you open your eyes.

“Fuck, finally! Are you alright?” 

You stare blearily, mouth open and dry from the adrenaline that had been pumping through your body just moments ago.

Bright hazel eyes. Huh. So pretty. You'd never noticed. 

You realise you're not supporting your own weight. You're finally aware that Logan has you in an embrace, holding your body up, one hand around your waist and the other on your jaw as he looks into your face. The water on your face isn't from the shower, you realise. It's your tears. 

“Bloody hell, please say something,” he says angrily. You feel some of your own anger flare up in response. What's his problem? 

“Fuck,” you croak. 

You feel his chest vibrate against yours as he laughs, suddenly aware that you're as naked as the day you were born and this man is fully clothed standing in your shower, getting his white singlet wet. Giving you a bear hug…

Your brain short circuits as you try to come up with words, feeling your whole body heat with embarrassment. 

“W-what are you doing in here?” you manage to slur.

“Helping your ass,” he says roughly. “Can you stand?”

Fuck, good question. Can I stand??

“C-close your eyes first,” you demand. 

“Bit late to be feeling shy now don't you think?” he teases with a wink. 

“Just close ‘em!” you yell at him. 

He laughs before complying. 

You extricate yourself from his arms, turning off the shower, then navigate carefully around him to exit the cubicle. You grab a towel and cover yourself, making a mental note to grab a clean one later since this one was definitely dirty now. 

“Okay, open your eyes and get out, please.”

He turns to look at you.

“Don't think that's a good idea, bub.”

“And why is that?” you huff impatiently.

“What if you collapse in the shower again?” he says matter of factly.

“I've been having these things for a long time. I've managed to survive so far so don't stress about it.”

“It's different now though, isn't it? You've been having these for a long time, you said so yourself, and they're only getting worse instead of better.”

You sigh heavily in frustration. You hated that he was right. 

“So what exactly are you suggesting?” 

Your heart was beating like crazy. He better not suggest what you think he was going to suggest.

“I'm sure old Chuckie boy wouldn't mind lending you his shower chair for the night,” he smirked. 

You laughed out loud despite the tension in the room. He always managed to make you laugh. 

“Yeah, I'm just going to wake up an old man in the middle of the night to ask if I can borrow his shower chair,” you joked, lightly slapping him on the shoulder. 

He laughed along with you then you both shared a few moments of comfortable silence. Only for him to break it with-

“My other suggestion is to shower with me so I can make sure you don't faint and hurt yourself.”

You stared at him distrustfully.

“Hey, look, I'm not being a pervert, it's just the only solution I can think of on the fly,” he placates, hands raised as if to say I'm innocent and unarmed. 

“Right…”

You stopped to think for a second, your muddled mind trying to make sense of the situation. 

It made you especially uncomfortable that you didn't exactly have your full mental faculties about you. 

But Logan was a good friend. You'd fought beside him many times before and you saw that you could trust him. But… he was still a man. A man much bigger and stronger than you. 

“Can I trust you?” you asked falteringly. What a stupid idea to ask the opinion of someone fully in power over you. 

“I promise I won't do anything without you wanting it. This is entirely your choice.” 

You looked him in the eyes, trying to find a trace of falsehood in them. But you only saw honeyed eyes, dripping with conviction. The same conviction you'd seen many times before when he was protecting those he loved. 

You felt yourself feel a little calmer. 

“Okay… but you better not break your promise. Or I'll sick Charles and his shower chair on you.” 

“I won't. I just want to keep you safe,” he said in a low, serious voice. 

You felt a fluttering behind your ribs. Fuck… I'm about to shower with this incredibly attractive asshole.

“Okay… you get in first,” you said. 

“Yes, ma'am,” he said a little too cheerily. 

You turned around to give him privacy to undress. You heard the rustle of his clothes then a thump as he dropped them on the floor of your bathroom. 

Should've known he'd be a slob…

You heard the shower turn on and you braced yourself for what was to come next. 

You turned towards the shower, keeping your head down and eyes averted. You removed your towel and stepped into the shower, still not looking at Logan and ignoring his presence, which was hard to do in your little shower. Thankfully he was turned away respectfully.

You stood behind him, turned away from his body. You took your soap and began to lather it over yourself as you usually did when you showered. 

“Would you like a hand with your back?” Logan spoke up. 

You paused as you weighed up the question in your mind. 

“Sure,” you said quietly, trying to keep yourself calm. 

This is totally normal. We're just friends having a shower. Together. 

You turned your back and heard him applying soap to his hands. Slowly, gently, as if you were made of glass, he began to rub your back, starting with your shoulders. You felt yourself give an involuntary shiver.

“Are you cold? Do you need the water a bit hotter?” he asked you. 

“No, it's fine. The temperature is okay with you?” 

“Yeah, bub, just perfect.” 

His hands felt massive against your back. He massaged your neck for a few seconds before moving down your shoulder blades towards your middle back. 

“Did-did you want me to do your back too?” you asked, trying to hide how nervous you were. 

“Since you're offering, sure,” he said gruffly. You turned towards him at the same moment he turned away from you, unfortunately catching a glimpse of his insane fucking abs, but thankfully managing not to make eye contact. 

You soaped up your hands and began with his neck, trying not to notice how thick and muscular his traps were. 

God… this is hell but also heaven. 

You ran your hands across his ridiculously broad shoulders and down his middle back, avoiding going too low lest you caress his stupid, tight ass. 

“I'm going to wash my hair, okay?” you told him, unsure of why you were asking permission. 

“Don't know why you're asking my permission.” Fuck. You were being weird. “But I can do the same right?” he responded, holding in laughter. 

You felt your face go hot.

“D-do what you want,” you said petulantly. 

You took the shampoo bottle, squeezing what you needed for yourself before handing it to him over his shoulder, which he thankfully kept turned to you in respect. 

You both washed your hair in silence. You already felt a bit better. You dreamily thought of your bed as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair. 

You then grabbed the conditioner and squeezed some into your hand. 

“Need the conditioner?” you asked Logan.

“What for?” he asked, confused. 

“For your hair, duh.”

“Nah, I'm good. Haven't had to use it so far in my life, won't start now. Need a hand with washing your hair?” 

You knew he was trying to be helpful. But it felt so, so wrong. Like overstepping your relationship as friends. But then again… would you ever get the chance again to have an incredibly sexy man wash your hair for you? 

“Sure,” you said stiffly.

Silence, then his hand moved around you to grab the bottle from you. 

“Ah-” you already had some conditioner in your hand. You were about to tell him but decided to keep quiet as he worked on your hair. 

His fingers… so thick and strong yet gentle through your hair, over your scalp. You couldn't help but to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. 

It was over too soon and he stepped away from you again. You tipped your head to rinse your hair, giving your face a quick scrub with water while you were at it; fuck your skin routine, you were going straight to bed. 

“I'm going to step out first,” you informed him. 

He grunted in reply and you stepped from the shower, grabbing two clean towels from your bathroom cupboard. You covered yourself with one and half turned your body to Logan, gaze still averted from his direction. 

“Here ya go,” you tried to say cheerily, offering the towel to him.  

“Thanks,” he said and grabbed it from your hand. You quickly moved to the door. 

“Wait until I say you can come in,” you said before closing the door behind you. 

Fuuuuucccckkkkk.

This was not helping you to relax at all.

You dried yourself quickly and threw your pyjamas on. 

“I'm done!” you called through the door. 

He stepped out with his towel wrapped around his stupid, slutty waist. You could see his happy trail adorning his abs. His enormous pecs, his dog tags resting in the dip of his gorgeous chest. 

“Hey, bub, my eyes are up here,” he teases. 

You swallow thickly and glare at his stupid, smirking face.

“Have I ever told you I hate you?” you retort, only succeeding in making him laugh. 

“How are you feeling now?” he says softly, suddenly serious. 

“I'm… exhausted. I usually sleep a lot after an episode.” 

He nods in understanding. 

“You'll be okay if I leave?”

This gives you pause. If you were being honest to yourself, you'd say, “Please stay. I don't want to be alone tonight.” 

But you weren't honest with yourself. 

“Thanks for looking out for me, Logan. I really appreciate it and sorry for putting you out. I'll be okay. You can go to bed now if you want.” 

He looked at you in silence. He stepped towards you, so close that you had to look up to keep eye contact. You could feel the warmth radiating from him. Fuck he runs hot. 

“You mean it, right? You're okay to be alone?” 

You stared at him, a little bit dumbfounded. Was he able to read minds or something? 

“Yes, I'll be fine. I'll be in bed so I can't exactly fall,” you chuckled. 

He didn't laugh with you. Only watched you carefully. 

“Okay. I'll respect what you say you want,” he says carefully. 

Again, this is so out of character for him that you second guess yourself whether you're in reality or not. 

You watch as he turns to the bathroom and grabs his clothes from the floor then goes towards the door to the hall. 

“Hey-w-wait-y-you're not going out like that are you?” you stutter in disbelief.

He turns back to you. 

“What else am I going to do?” he asks incredulously. 

Clueless.

“Put your clothes back on,” you retort.

“Ew, you're a bit of a slob, aren't you? They're dirty and covered with blood and who knows what or who else.”

You deadpanned. 

“What if… what if you stayed here for the night?” you blurted out without thinking. You flinch at your own words.

Logan pauses with his hand on the door knob. 

“I don't exactly have my pyjamas here with me,” he says slowly. 

“I've already seen and touched you naked. What's the difference?” you hear yourself say.

What the fuck am I saying?

“I-I mean, surely I have something that can fit you,” you amend quickly. His face seems to go slack in surprise.

“Wow. You really want it, huh?” he smirks at you. 

You ignore the heat that overtakes your whole body. 

“N-never mind! Fuck off already,” you say sourly. 

“Hey, I'm just joking,” he laughs. “I can definitely stay if it helps you feel better.” He smiles at you and you feel yourself melt a little bit. 

“It… it would. Help me feel better, I mean.” 

Having him near you would help remind you that this is real, you justify. 

“Alright then,” he nods to you. “Some clothes would be great.” 

“Ah, sure, give me a second.” 

You quickly go to your wardrobe to locate the loosest pair of pants you own. He'll just have to sleep shirtless, there's no way you have a top that will fit over his broad shoulders. 

You find a dark grey pair of trackies and turn back to him. 

“Try these.”

“Thanks,” he says as he takes it from your hand.

As he moves back to the bathroom you jump into bed to wait. Your bed never felt so fucking good. 

You've barely settled under the covers when Logan reappears from the bathroom, his hair still wet and dripping down his neck. You do your best not to stare. 

He moves towards you and lifts the covers to slip into bed with you. 

This is just a sleepover, you tell yourself. Like when you have a friend over for the night.

Logan slots himself into your bed alongside you and you become suddenly aware of how small your double bed is. The frame creaks loudly from the weight of him and his Adamantium bones. 

“Comfy?” you ask.

He turns in the bed so he's facing you. A smile slowly makes its way to his face and you find you can't breathe for a second. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he murmurs. 

“Alright, sweet, g’night then,” you say quickly, turning away from him to still your beating heart. Fuck, I hope he can't hear my heart right now.

“Are you sure you're ready to sleep? Your heart is beating pretty fast,” he points out cooly. 

Mother fucker.

“So… you have heightened senses right? Kind of.. like a dog?” I'm not thinking straight, why am I trying to piss him off? 

“Thought you were going to sleep,” he grunted. The sound of his gravelly voice did something to you. But you ignored it. 

“It just kind of reminds me of those service dogs, y'know the ones that can sense when their owner is going to have a seizure? I mean, I know I don't have seizures exactly, but I guess it presents sort of like one.”

“What are you trying to say?” he asks gruffly. He doesn't like it when people compare him to dogs. You're just grateful you can't see the look on his face right now. 

“I'm just wondering how you can tell? What is it exactly that you're sensing? It's always interested me,” you say honestly. 

He grunts again and goes quiet before answering.

“I can smell it. Can't even explain what it actually smells like. But that's how I know, although it isn't always accurate.”

“That's really interesting.” And you mean it. It really is interesting… although the implications concerning his sense of smell have you a little bit paranoid… 

“So that's why I'm telling you to listen to me when I fucking tell you to stop with your powers. You could've killed yourself tonight,” he grinds out, anger in his voice. 

“Logan… you need to understand where I'm coming from. You all died tonight. Like literally, right before my very eyes, you were all dead. What do you expect me to do?” 

You feel tears pricking your eyes, the lump in your throat is choking you.

“I… I can't talk about this right now okay?” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Okay… okay, I'm sorry,” his voice softens. “Please, just get some sleep, okay? Guide dog’s orders.”

And just like that you're laughing again, feeling a tear running down your cheek to your pillow. You were so grateful to have him in your life. You were also grateful he couldn't see you crying right now. 

“Alright, g'night, puppy,” you tease.

“‘Night,” he says softly. 

A minute passes and you can already feel yourself starting to drift off. You smile to yourself, knowing that you have your own personal “service animal” to keep you safe tonight.

[thehelltingvilleclub]

Josh Levy - Teddy Bear with a Lightsaber

He's not fat.. okay he's fat AND he's big boned.

Joshua “Josh” Aaron Levy [05/04/80] Secretary of Science Fiction AOL / Online Users: [JediJunkies_80] Theme Songs: Science Fiction Double Feature - Me First and Gimmie Gimmies | Ghost - Mystery Skulls | Aliens Exist - blink-182

Favorite Shit: Star Trek, Star Wars, Dr. Who, Twilight Zone, Kaiju, Stargate SG-1 Battlestar Galactica, Klingon, Alternate Earths, Firefly, Planet of the Apes, 12” Action Figures, Torrent Sites, The X-Files, Babylon 5, Akira, Farscape, Boba Fett

Despite his (well earned) grievances, he still hangs around these fuckers cause he can't really seem to find solace anywhere else, even online spaces. He didn't expect to find any enjoyment out of going to tournaments with Jerry, but an excuse to get good city food and walk around the comic shops they were held in were enough in his book to keep him coming back. He even managed to find a space themed tabletop he likes to play, and... y'know.. maybe other reasons..

But we don't talk about him shit uh IT UH--

Never tell me the odds.

Oh Joshybear my beloved you poor antagonistic shitsmear.

His mom is in the hospital a lot more often or just straight up bed bound, which makes him kind of never want to leave his room out of guilt.

Yes, this dingus still blames himself for it, though it's not like his father helps with that.

Whenever he isn't holed up in his room, he's trying to drag somebody anybody out of the house to do something. Anything to get his mind off of stupid emotional shit--

He often goes with Jerry into the inner city when he has tournaments, especially when nobody else really wants to go. Sometimes he even covers Jerry bus fair or just borrows his mom's car.

However, this fucker HATES driving. It makes him the most anxious he's ever been his entire life. It is nothing like video games and it is nothing like the Millennium Falcon, that's for damn certain.

He also hates trying to park because he is deathly afraid of hitting the side of someone's car with the door.

Josh actually doesn't meet Matt at the same time as Jerry, surprisingly enough. Jerry introduces them when they bump into each other at the shop for a non-tournament related reason.

Josh nearly had a panic attack on the spot but it's fine

The moment he heard Matt had never seen the Star Wars films he nearly lost his mind.

This became the entire basis of Josh's attachment to the dude: "I have to show him the cinematic masterpiece that is this damn franchise."

And that's all it is. Mhmm. Totally. Don't ask why his hands are clammy and he's even more show-offy than normal whenever he's around. Don't.

please?

He works with his dad at their Synagogue as essentially a secretary and sound technician, but hey, it lets him write his fanfictions Reimaginings and scroll through blogs in peace, right?

And it keeps him out of his dad's hair and the house, so it's kind of a win-win-win.. win?

I love him

I want to eat him.

A DOUBLE POST???? HJGDSAJKHDKSJALHDLK You're welcome

Also don't worry guys, you'll get a WHOLE lot more info on Matt soon. He's not an affiliated member of the club and I didn't have many drawings of him (despite my.. excessive notes...) so I'm cranking them out as I post this.

NOW LOVE THE BIG MAN ON CAMPUS DAMNIT.

also hi I know his pants look weird shut up nothing else looked better.

[witherby]

Mother Hen Hal skit perhaps...? Since you said you are up for writing anything, can i recommend some silly mother hen Hal? :3/nf/silly

Y'know what hell yeah. Hal is Mom, and that's canon now.

Also, it doesn't really make sense for me to use the infant gif for Flittermouse when they inevitably get older. Does this one work for you guys? Let me know. I might fiddle around until I find something suitable.

The Littlest Wayne: Mother Hen

Masterlist is Here!

"Ah-ah! Put it down."

You freeze, one hand curled around the handle of the popsicle you were trying to sneak before dinner.

"I'm not a motion sensor, kid. I can still see you if you're standing still. Put. It. Down. If you want a snack then there's a fruit bowl on the counter."

You huff and put the popsicle back in the freezer, stomping over to the bowl to snatch an orange. "Fine."

"What was that?"

You grimace. "Yes, mama."

Hal narrows his eyes at you and holds out his hand. You approach him from where he's leaning against the doorway and hand the orange over, and he starts to peel it for you.

"Kids these days, gettin' sassier and sassier. Y'know when I was young my dad would pop me on the mouth for backtalk."

"Thank goodness you're not your dad," you say, taking it back and stepping into his shadow to let it pull you into the dark. "Thanks, mama."

"Uh huh," he sighs, but his expression is fond as he watches you disappear. He shakes his head and grabs a banana for himself. "Goofy kid. They should be grateful I found 'em in the act and not Alfred."

--

"Disarm that, please."

Jason glances up at Hal from where he's sitting on his bed, currently taking inventory of his ammo and checking the condition of his guns.

"Uh, 'scuse me?"

"You know your dad's rule. No guns in the house. If you wanna keep it upstairs, you've gotta disassemble it."

"Oh," Jason says, scoffing, "what, like I'm gonna suit up and shoot up the place? I'm an asshole, but I'm not that big an asshole."

"Everyone trusts you, Jaybird," Hal says, "but even the best-maintained guns can misfire. A warped firing pin here, too much gunpowder in a bullet there, a hair trigger —"

"You think I'm running around with shitty equipment like an amateur, Jordan?" Jason sneers and picks up one of his pistols, aiming it at Hal's head. It doesn't have any bullets in it, but fear factor is half of his job. "You think this could go off willy-nilly 'cause I dunno how to take care of my toys? Huh? Just because you're fucking Bruce doesn't mean you get to call any shots in this house —"

A green hammer materializes faster than Jason can blink and smacks the gun from his hand. He hisses flexes his fingers, glaring, only lean back when he suddenly finds Hal glaring down at him less than a foot away from the edge of the bed.

"I'm not playing this game with you, Jason Todd-Wayne," he says. The boy actually feels sweat pooling on the back of his neck. "I have to go pick your brother up from school, and when I come back these guns are either going to be in the cave, or disassembled in your bedroom."

"...yes, ma," Jason mumbles. Hal nods once, gives him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, and leaves the room.

--

Tim doesn't glance up when he hears footsteps descending the cave. He keeps scrolling through the security footage from the most recent bank heist on the batcomputer, trying and failing to figure out exactly what the hell Two-Face would want with that many uncut diamonds. Money tends to play very little factor in his scheme of the week, so why —

"Bed time."

"Crime never sleeps," Tim mumbles, rubbing his burning eyes and reaching for the can of Monster on the desk. Another hand swipes it away first, and he scowls. "I'll head up in, like, an hour." He squints when he thinks he sees a partial blueprint sticking out of Two-Face's pocket. "Like two hours."

"Nuh-uh. The one and only time I fell for that, you stayed awake for another fifty hours before we caught onto you. No more computer tonight."

"And I cracked that case fifty hours faster than I would've if I'd slept."

Hal scruffs Tim, hoisting him into the air by the back of his shirt and turning to go back up the staircase.

"Hal! Okay, I'm serious this time, twenty minutes so I can mark my place and —"

"Bed time," Hal hisses. "It is three in the morning and I have to get up at five. Do not test my patience right now."

"Yes, mom," Tim immediately says, eyes wide. He wants to scan that blueprint, but he wants to avoid getting on a sleep-deprived Hal's bad side even more. "Bed time."

Hal nods and carts him off to his room, tucking Tim in and giving him a pointed goodnight before leaving.

--

Dick knows better than to fight Hal when he puts his foot down for something. Bruce he can gradually wheedle into submission, especially if he calls him Dad and gives him big puppy eyes, but Hal is a demon and seemingly immune to all forms of sucking up.

So when he slips out of his window and into the garden, trying to sneak away to go back to Blüdhaven, he runs into Hal and immediately turns back around.

"Smart move. Get back in bed and I'll have Alfred make sure you didn't pop your stitches crawling down the wall like an idiot just now."

"Yes, mum. Sorry, mum."

--

"Damian Al-Ghul-Wayne!"

"Oh, fuck."

Nothing but ice-cold dread zips up and down that boy's spine. He darts out of his room and down the stairs, running from room to room until he finds Hal standing in the vestibule with blood at his feet and a nasty snake bite on his arm. The culprit is trapped in a constructed box several feet away.

"Is it venomous." Hal asks, tone flat.

"No, Mother," Damian says, standing at attention directly in front of him. He keeps his hands in his pockets to stop them from trembling.

"Is there more than one."

"No, Mother."

"Will you have it re-homed by tomorrow."

"Yes, Mother."

"Are you going to start asking for permission before bringing more animals home."

"..."

"Damian."

"Yes, Mother."

Hal steps forward with his good hand and gently cups Damian's cheek.

"Do you understand why I'm upset?" He asks, gentler. Damian nods. "Okay. All I'll say is that I'm glad it was me this happened to, and not any of your siblings. I think you really would've frightened Mouse if they got bit."

Damian's eyes widen briefly, not having considered such a consequence. He stiffens and avoids eye contact.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. Hal opens his arms and Damian goes in easily for the offered hug. "I'll get rid of Piper tonight."

"Good. I'm sorry you can't keep her, pal, but it's too dangerous to let it roam the grounds like that. Plus, this bite really smarts. If you're hell-bent on a snake, maybe you can get a small one in, like, a month for your birthday. Real small. Like a hog-nose. Or a corn snake."

"Fine," Damian mumbles, but the tension bleeds out of his shoulders. "I'll fetch the first aid kit for you."

"Thanks, 'ppreciate it."

--

"Oh, dearest husband of mine."

Bruce maintains a front of stoic calm, unmoving and unaffected by the saccharine pitch of Hal's voice. He continues stitching himself up in the batcave's med room and doesn't look up when a pair of green boots enters his periphery.

"Can you answer a question for me?"

"Yeah, shoot," Bruce says, proud that his voice didn't waver.

"What's the thermal rating on the latest iteration of your suit?"

Bruce glances at the jar of burn cream he hasn't cracked open yet to treat the massive wound on his side. A bead of sweat forms on his temple.

"It's —"

"Is it high enough to withstand a condensed, point-blank blast directly from the sun?"

He doesn't respond. Bruce finishes his stitch job and ties it off, then reaches over for the jar. Hal snatches it.

"Answer the question, Wayne."

Bruce swallows thickly. "No. It's not thermally rated high enough to withstand a condensed blast as powerful as the sun, obviously."

"Obvi — oh. Okay, it was obvious. I'm glad it was obvious. That's fantastic. I just have a follow-up question, then."

The jar creaks in Hal's grip. His free hand is clenched in a tight fist.

"If you knew your suit wasn't sturdy enough to take a blast like that, WHY THE FUCK DID YOU STEP IN FRONT OF IT!?"

Bruce clears his throat. "It was going to hit you, and you weren't watching your six."

"I AM ENCASED IN A MAGIC GLOWING SUIT MADE OF WILLPOWER, BRUCE. I WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE. YOU'RE RUNNING AROUND IN LEATHER AND KEVLAR."

Bruce slides off the table, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. A pair of green arms hook him under his armpits and heave him back onto it with a not-so-gentle thud, and he winces when it aggravates his injury. "Hal, stop shouting. I already have Tinnitus and this isn't helping."

"Oh, your poor ears," Hal coos, stepping between Bruce's legs. He sets the jar down and gingerly cups Bruce's ears, pouting. "I'll speak softly so I don't cause you further pain. Y'know, like the massive fucking burn in your side from GETTING BLASTED BY A SUN RAY."

"I'm not going to apologize!"

Hal snaps his mouth shut, glaring at Bruce. "What."

"I'm not going to apologize for protecting you." Bruce's hands cover Hal's. He brings them down to his lap, interlacing their fingers and squeezing tightly. "It's very statistically probable I'm going to do it again, as a matter of fact. And I'll keep doing it as long as I think you need to be protected."

He thumbs over the golden band on Hal's left hand, and the edge of the Green Lantern ring on his right.

"Because that's what I promised you when we got married. That as long as I have a body that moves, and lungs that breathe air, and a mind that can think, I will move and breathe and think in whatever way guarantees your health and happiness."

"Collecting battle scars like bottle pops doesn't make me happy, Bruce," Hal murmurs. "One day I'm gonna check my six and find you on the ground like I did today, and one day you're not gonna get back up again."

"That's the risk we take every time we suit up," Bruce sighs. "People in our line of work seldom make it to retirement age, love."

Hal lifts his hands to cup the back of Bruce's head and draw him into a kiss. There's a subtle tremble in his body that Bruce does his best to soothe with pliant lips and a skilled tongue.

"I'm going to help you with the burn," Hal mumbles against his lips, "then we're going upstairs for movie night, and I'm picking this time. And by then, maybe I'll have decided if you get to sleep in our bed or on the couch tonight."

"Yes, mom," Bruce mutters back, grinning. He hisses when Hal flicks his wound. "Sorry."

[begginmonty]

Thinking about Mike avoiding you after you saw him beating that man in the fountain ‘cause in his mind you think that he’s a monster and never want to see him again

(Sorry for any mistake, that’s not my first language)

dont apologise hun!

you worked at the coffee stand in the mall. wasn't the best pay and perhaps the hours were sometimes a little too long but you got to work in the same building as your boyfriend so, it wasn't the end of the world.

you were busy cleaning the counter, "is that mike-? y/n! y/n!" your co-worker called you and you quickly walked over to where she was, following her eyesight and suddenly there was your boyfriend tackling a man into a fountain. "oh my god" you mumbled, practically jumping over the counter and running to where you boyfriend was beating the ever living fuck out of some guy. but you knew mike, he wasn't one just to spring attacks, there had to be a good cause for this, a decent enough reason. you watched as your boyfriend was pulled off the guy by jeremiah, his coworker, and everyone was crowding around, and thats when mike had made eye contact with you. there was a confused look upon your face which he mistook for fear and disappointment. "wha-" you had mouthed, motioning to what had happened but he quickly had looked away.

you'd picked mike up from the police station that evening and he hadn't muttered a single word to you nor made eye contact with you. the car journey was silent, and when you arrived home he just got out the car and into the house. you'd sighed and gotten out the car, and walked into the house, max shared a quizzical look at you. "yeah, i dont know. thanks for watching abby though" you handed her a $30 and she said her goodbyes before leaving.

"what's wrong with mike?" abby had asked, you didn't want to tell her anything. so you told her he'd had a long day and that she should be getting ready for bed. you tucked her up in bed and left her to sleep.

the evening carried on and you wanted to let mike collect himself before you spoke to him, he needed space sometimes and you totally respected that. but by like 10pm, he was still in the room. you had knocked a few times on the door but you were met with silence. he finally emerged from the bedroom around 11pm to find you sat on the couch watching tv. "baby?" you spoke up, but he ignored you and went off into the kitchen to grab water, "mike? hello?" you'd stood up now and made your way over to him, blocking him so he couldn't walk away, he was face forward, leaning against the counter staring out into space "baby, please talk to me" mike hated how your voice sounded sad, he didn't want to make you sad.

"i'm not mad at you or anything mike, i promise, i just want you to talk to me" you said softly, walking behind him and hugging him from behind, "im not sure what happened but i promise you mike, i am not mad at you or anything like that, okay?"

"im sorry" his voice was quiet, "i just, uh, it looked like he was taking the kid y'know, and then you were there and you looked scared of me and i-"

"i could never be scared of you" you mumbled into his shoulder, pressing a kiss there "we can talk about it later, lets just go to bed yeah?"

mike nodded, and the two of you went to bed.

(its a bit shit soz<;3)

[mattslolita]

subby matt fic PLEASE

kisses 🎀😚

anon 💫 ;)

lock your phone - m. sturniolo

in which ... your boyfriend's been so busy with work that he's barely paid attention to you — so you show him how much you missed him. ( boyfriend!matt x black!fem reader )

warnings ; soft!dom!reader, sub!matt, oral ( m! & f! receiving ), face riding, overstim

"𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

your boyfriend matt was always so busy nowadays.

you knew how much being an youtuber could be a very demanding job — the many meetings he had to attend, all the filming, you understand that he alot on his plate at times.

but sometimes you felt neglected, sexually frustrated — you had been left to your own devices most of the time. but the feeling of your own fingers wasn't the same as the way matt's tongue pleased you. or the way his fingers curled inside you. you needed him — you craved him.

matt and his brothers had finished their collab with sam and colby, meaning you shared your final night at the hotel with him. alone, this time.

he hadn't gotten back just yet, but he texted you earlier to tell you that he and his brothers were on their way back to the hotel. luckily, you packed your blue lingerie set that you specifically bought for the occasion, and you were dressed in that under the white robe you tied around your body.

you sprayed a light amount of body spray on you, then you set the bottle down. a sudden click of the door sounded, causing excitement to flood through your veins as you realized matt was finally back.

"baby, i'm back," matt calls out, and you stifle a giggle.

"i'll be out in a second!" you called back to him, giving yourself one final once over before you opened the bathroom door.

you stood in the doorway as you observed the man, who had taken off his outside clothes and sat in only his grey wife beater tank top with his black sweatpants hugging his hips dangerously low, just on the base of his waist. he smiled at you as you observed him, tilting your head at him slightly.

"baby, why're you just standing there?" he asks you, and you bite your lip and put a hand on your hips.

"you've been so busy lately, y'know?" you pouted, "i missed you so much."

he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, nodding in agreement. "i've missed you too, angel. our schedule's just been so cramped lately, i miss spending time with you..."

"i understand," you nodded, suddenly standing upright as you give him a sly smirk. "but we've got tonight to ourselves, right sweet boy?"

his eyes widen slightly at your sultry tone, causing him to nod — you slowly unravel the material that holds your robe together, letting the fabric fall at your feet as you stand in your lingerie, your brown skin glimmering in the low lamp light provided.

matt's eyes roam every inch of your figure, drinking in the sight of you and the heat immediately rushes to his now hard dick as he almost salivates.

"fuck, my favorite color," he mumbles to himself, his hand going down to rub over his sensitive, but clothed cock.

you make your way towards him seductively crawling on the bed, stopping in front of him — he gets a view of your perfectly perked tits, biting his lip and resisting the urge to take the top half off and take one into his mouth.

you crawl into his lap, placing both your legs over his waist as your heat is directly centered with his already hard dick — you waste no time in connecting your lips slowly, your hands intertwining themselves behind his neck as you draw him closer to you.

his hands fly to your waist, gripping tightly as he squeezes the brown flesh needily, wanting you impossibly closer to him. your tongue explores his mouth, letting you do the work as you grind down on him eliciting a groan from him.

the buzz of his phone on the desk beside you breaks the heated moment between the two of you, causing matt to pull away with a sigh, rubbing his hand along the side of his face.

you raised your eyebrow at him, daring him to pick his phone up — he gulped at your stare, his hand going to reach for the cellular device. but before he could pick it up, you beat him to it, grabbing it off the desk and holding it in your hand, a grin overtaking your features as you hold it up and dangle it in his face.

"i'm not sentimental, but," you begin, biting your lip as you trace your free hand along his jawline, peppering kisses along it, "the way you look tonight? i need to savor this, baby."

whimpers draw from matt's lips as you suck on the sweet spot of his neck — another vibration follows from his phone, as he bucks his hips up towards you, but you pull away from his neck and sit there.

"i need you, please," matt mumbles out, and you bite your lip and grin as you slide his phone into his hand.

"then you better lock your phone," you instruct him, grinding down on his erection as both your hands connect around his neck once again, "and look at me when you're alone."

his eyes never leaving yours he powers his phone off, tossing it on the desk as you instantly connect your lips once again. matt's hands quickly fly to your hips again, digging into your soft flesh as he pulls you closer to him.

you leave a trail of kisses on either side of his neck, eliciting small whines from the boy, as you feel his erection poking your clothed cunt. "please baby, i need to feel you."

"don't worry sweet boy, i'm gonna take good care of you," you tell him, grabbing his jaw softly as you force him to look up at you, "you gonna be good for me?"

"yes," he whines, his hips bucking upward again, but you quickly slapped his hips, ceasing his movements.

with a smirk you get off of his lap and slowly inch downward until your face is leveled with his clothed cock, and you bite your lip at the small wet patch on grey sweatpants. "look at you matt, all worked up and i haven't even touched you. you're such a needy boy, you know that?"

he does nothing but whimper as you slide his sweatpants down and throw them to side, his boxers leaving next — your mouth salivates at his length, taking in the leaking tip and the thick vein that runs along the side of it.

"such a pretty cock," you tell him, your hand wrapping around his shaft as you spit on it, beginning to stroke him, "you like the way i touch you, pretty boy?"

a moan leaves his lips as you continue to stroke him, running you thumb over his slit teasingly — however, you didn't take kindly to his lack of response, causing your movements to cease. "words, matthew. you like how i touch you?"

"y-yes baby, so much," matt whines again, his eyes pleading as he looks at you, "please, i need your mouth..."

"you need my what?" you ask him, continuing to stroke him once again, teasingly drawing your mouth closer to where he craved you the most.

"your mouth, please..."

matt's soft whines caused your panties to dampen as you finally lowered your head level with his cock, licking a stripe along the side of him, whilst keeping eye contact with him — he watches in awe as you do so, soft moans leaving his lips when you completely wrap your lips around his shaft, beginning to bob your head up and down in a rhythmetic pattern.

"fuck, oh my gosh," matt moans, his head thrown back as you continue deep throating his cock, "feels so good, baby."

you take him out of your mouth to teasingly lick around the head of his tip, staring up at him. it quickly turns into a glare as you realize his eyes are screwed shut, his head thrown against the headboard.

"look at me when i suck you off, or i'll fucking stop," you demand him, your hand no longer on his throbbing dick.

his eyes immediately snap towards you and you grin at this, wasting no time in placing your lips back onto his cock, sucking him off once again — you maintain eye contact with him as your head bobs up and down on his cock, pumping the rest of what couldn't fit in your mouth.

"m'close," matt moans, causing you to speed up your movements.

"cum for me, sweet boy."

that's all the confirmation he needed before his body convulsed as he shot his load into your mouth, along with a string of moans and curses of your name — you swallowed his load and licked the remainder off of his cock, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

a smirk adorns your lips as you strip yourself of your panties, matt watching in confusion — he then watches as you level yourself with his cock, lining yourself up but he shakes his head in protest.

"m'too sensitive, baby, i can't..." he whines out, causing you to pout with faux sympathy.

"thought you were gonna be a good boy for me?" you tsk, leaning over him as you grab both of his hands, holding them above his head, "c'mon baby, i know you can give me another one."

you fully sink down onto him, letting out a moan as you do so — you let go of his hands momentarily, stripping yourself of the top half of your lingerie. matt watches in awe, biting his lip as you grip both of his arms and pin them down by his sides, slowly beginning to rock your hips back and forth on his dick.

"fuck baby, you fill me so well," you moan, your hips moving at a faster pace, him letting out whimpers as his brunette hair sticks to his forehead. "your cock was made for me."

"you feel s-so good, y/n," matt whines out, bucking hips up to meet your pace.

you continue to rock your hips back and forth, your mouth slightly open as you look down at matt's fucked out expression — his lips were parted slightly as he looked up at you, his eyes blown wide, and you noticed his eyes on something in particular — his eyes stayed glued on the way your tits bounced above him, causing you to bite your lip.

"go on baby, i see you looking," you say, unpinning his arms from his sides, and his hands immediately fly to grope your tits in his hand.

his mouth attaches to your left nipple, sucking and nipping on it as you throw your head back, bouncing up and down on his cock. your orgasm is approaching quickly, causing your bounces to become sloppier.

"you've been such a good boy for me, baby," you moan out, "what do you want your reward to be?"

"can...can you sit on my face?" matt asks you, his hands gripping your waist still as you continue to bounce.

you nod and begin to slide yourself off of him, your pussy squelching with how wet it already was — you slowly hover over matt's face, sinking yourself slowly until you feel his nose graze your clit.

like a starved man, he quickly laps at your cunt, licking up all your juices as you grip the headboard. "fuck, right there matt!"

his tongue goes to work creating figure eights, diving into that sweet spot as he savors the taste of you. uncontrollable moans leave your lips as you feel him groan which sends vibrations through your cunt.

"making me feel so good, baby," you moan as you grind onto his face, throwing your head, "i'm gonna cum!"

matt continued lapping at your pussy, as your orgasm approached fast — your juices squirted all over matt's face, and he licked every drop as if it'd be the last time he had a meal.

he helped you ride out your orgasm, before you fell beside him, both of you panting and out of breath. you looked down at your boyfriend, seeing your juices glistening on his chin. he looked up at you and smiled, to which you moved the sweaty baby hairs that stuck to his forehead.

"let me get you a towel, okay?" he said, and he nodded, puckering his lips out for a quick kiss.

you kissed him quickly, getting up and returning with a small, wet towel, wiping his face off, then planting another sweet kiss to his lips.

to your surprise, matt deepened the kiss and flipped you over so that he was on top, and you laid underneath him, a shocked expression on your face.

"you thought we were done for the night, angel? i hope you got your phone on dnd."

lil 💌

hii @thesturniolos im soz this took so long bae bae, but shes here !! ts is also for my lover @middlepartmatt titled after ur fav billie song ❤ I hope you freaks enjoyed this ! i loved writing it <3

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @junnniiieee07 @astrowh0r3 @v33angel @ilovechrissturniolo1 @e1ias3 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturn777 @stasiesturn @prettypinkprincess15 @breeloveschris @summerssover @mayhem-72 @riasturns @chrissturniolossidehoe @moonk1ss3d @v33angel @h3arts4harry @stargirll567 @bitchydragonparadise @heartsforchrisandmatt @pepsienthusiasts @tillies33ssss @thenickgirl @sturnprime @summerssover @k4di333 @pinksturniolo @middlepartmatt @jnkvivi @hoesformatt @hysteria-things @cottoncandyswisherz