#and then responded to the joke I made right after that

[chosove]

*tw!!! daddy kink!!! + a lotttt of size kink stuff!!! fem bodied reader*

I know he gets such a like…almost ‘selfish lover’ rep but in my humble daddy issue biased opinion, toji would 100% talk you through it like…

Everyone already finds him so intimidating, if not from his stature and general appearance, its his gruff voice and combative personality. He doesnt even mean to do it, he just always has that trademark scowl on his face that makes people afraid to say excuse me in grocery stores :(

Not you though, you still served him with your bright smile as he checked out of the store. You asked how he was and giggled at his flirty response of ‘why, ya wanna make my day better?’. I mean…other than his kids he never had people willingly make small talk with him, let alone laugh at his old man jokes.

Godddd he just gets so flustered when you look at him with your big doe eyes and say have a fantastic day :(

Thats why when he sees you on the dating app megumi downloaded for him (against his will), he feels his heart skip a beat. I just know he’s all nervous, thinking how dirty he is as a self proclaimed ‘old man’ finding such a pretty young thing attractive- i mean you could literally be his daughter. All these worried thoughts flitted through his head while he tried to decide, not realizing his thumb was just a littttttlllleeeee too close to the screen as he accidentally matched with you.

Oh.

Oh.

I mean it was an accident for him, but was it an accident for you? It couldnt be if you were texting him already, a message reading “hey there stranger :)” popping up on his phone.

And when you liked his simple response of “Hello.”, responding with “anything i can do to make your night better, toji?”, that couldnt just be a typo or misclick, right?

You made him feel like a teenager again, the butterflies he felt only becoming more intense when you asked him to come over n’ tell you in person :( he nearly jumped out of his skin trying to get ready, hands fumbling with that pinstripe button-up he’d been saving for something special (gumi’s grad or….i guess his first date in forever). It was only at times like this he wished he had someone to call to help him chill out.

Maybe after tonight that’d be you though? He hoped so at least, and even when you pulled him into your apartment, pushing him on the couch while he stuttered about getting to know each other first, he knew you were the girl for him.

It did take a while for him to actually get up to your speed- he didnt wanna break you or anything. You were just so, so desperate for him, tugging at his shirt while you grinded your clothed cunt against his beefy thighs, filthy words coming out of your mouth only making it harder for toji to take it slow with you.

“God you’re so big toji, feel like even jus’ your fingers can split me in half.”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you, knew you’d treat me better than all the guys my age. Ya gonna fuck me right toji? Please?”

“C’mon toji…know you wanna breed me, bet it’ll only take one time for me to give you a baby. D’you want that daddy?”

It was no later you said that word that he was picking you up, throwing you onto the tiny mattress your studio apartment held. Yeah, he definitely wasnt getting out of this alive- but neither were you judging by the way his big hands began to unbuckle his belt, unzipping the pants you so graciously left a giant wet stain on, the outline of his cock in his boxers making your mouth water.

“See what ya do to me, pretty?” His deep voice spoke, one hand giving his throbbing dick a few much-needed strokes while he stared down at you like a wolf. “Nothin’ to say anymore, hm? C’mon, i liked hearing it all.”

He hadnt even pressed himself against you before you let out a whine, his hands resting themselves on your sides already being enough to make your hips jump. If it weren’t for the fact he was now intent on hearing more of those pretty sounds from you, he’d have let out a whine himself from how soft your skin felt against his worked hands. And when he slowly pulled your panties down your thighs, clenching his jaw at the sight of strands of wetness sticking to your pussy, he nearly came in his pants.

“Poor girl, bet this sweet pussy hasnt been treated right in forever hm?” The question nearly brought tears to your eyes, both from the truth of it and from the fact he began to thumb at your glistening cunt, the rough pad of his finger being the exact pressure you needed on your pulsing bundle of nerves. “T-toji i might cum alr-”you began, but you werent able to get your sentence out before his hand came down to slap against your cunt.

“What happened to my good girl from earlier? Y’know not to call me toji, little bird. Whats my name?” He whispered against the shell of your ear, fingers covered in your wetness now coming to play with your hard nipples.

Clinging to his shaggy hair like it was your lifeline, you nearly cried out as you came undone for him, the desperate moan of ‘thank you daddy’ falling from your lips. He smiled as you writhed below him, your body convulsing while he let you ride what would be the first of many orgasms that night.

[fancyfeathers]

Always Prey But Never A Bird

Based on the Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling series

Previous Chapter <- Chapter Ten -> Next Chapter

Taglist: @jsprien213 @toast-on-dandelioms @plsfckmedxddy @lilyalone @sydneyyyya @yandere-wishes @cxcilla @nemesis-writer @sadslasher13

“Hey bugaboo, you need to eat something.” You heard Tim speak as your door opened and he stepped inside, walking over to your bed and he sat down on the edge of your bed, reaching out to rest his left hand in between your shoulder blades on your back. “Alfred made breakfast if you want to come downstairs or I can bring something up here.”

“I’m fine.” You responded, not moving a single muscle as his hand reached up to pull away the hair off of your face as you lay down, letting it slip from his hand and falling down your back.

“You’re not fine, you haven’t moved since you got here.” He sighed, his hand slipping away and tucking itself into his hoodie pocket. “You have not eaten or showered, it has been eighteen hours, you have-“

“I can’t… I’m tired Tim.” You sighed and reached for your phone on the nightstand, it somewhat surprised you that Dick left that behind but it was understandable why, to leave you cut off from everything right now would be like leaving alone to die, you were unstable and they all knew that. You turned on your phone and you could see the wall of notifications, unread messages from your friends and Gabriel along with at least twenty missed calls from Gabriel. You groaned and dropped your phone down on your bed and buried your head into the sheets. You glanced at your older brother, half your face still buried in the bedding, and it took you a moment to make yourself talk because you just felt tired and far too exhausted. “…I’m sorry about… you know…”

“Throwing me at a mirror? I figured…” He sighed and you felt the weight on your bed shift and the blanket over you is pulled over Tim as well and you felt his arms wrap around your waist and he pressed his head into the crook of your neck as you felt his hands rest on you bare stomach as your shirt had ridden up a little, his hands were cold to the touch which would have made you jolt if you already did not feel so incredibly numb. “I can take it, besides you were scared and it was not your fault, you’re safe now.”

“Safe in Gotham? You’re joking right?” You huffed, closing your eyes, hoping to fall back asleep and that he would just let it be, but when have they ever just left you alone? You felt Tim’s breath on your neck as he moved his head so that his forehead was pressed against the top of the back of your neck.

“C’mon downstairs, you need to eat something.” At his words you groaned and took your blanket from where it lay over him as you turned over on your stomach and threw the blanket over you and tucking the edges of the blanket underneath you. You could practically feel the eye roll from Tim, even if you could not see it, as he stood up from your bed and walked over to your bedroom door. “Okay, be that way, but I can’t promise you’ll like the outcome.”

You heard his footsteps trail off, though the asshole of your so called brother never closed your bedroom door, leaving it wide open to the hallway. You enjoyed the peace and quiet for the few minutes you had it and you silently prayed that they would forget about you and get distracted in conversation about their current or upcoming cases and or missions, but again, they never forget about you or leave you alone. You could hear and feel the heavy footsteps against your bedroom floor as another person walked a few minutes after Tim had left and you almost instantly knew who it was, Jason. You could have moved, but you felt too tired to and you certainly did not expect what he ended up doing in grabbing you in the blanket before you could react and throwing you and the blankets over his shoulder like a makeshift bag with you inside.

“Jason, this isn’t funny!” You shouted at your older brother as he carried you out of the room in the blanket like a sack of potatoes, you had the faintest memory of him doing this same thing to you as a child, maybe you were eight or nine years old, not to long after your mother and father got back together again, though that statement could be taken with a grain of salt, but you could not get a clear image of said memory in your mind. You were a lot smaller as a child, especially at that age, maybe a foot and a half shorter than where you stand now along with being about a hundred pounds lighter than you were now, not counting the twenty to twenty five pounds of muscle you have gained over the last four years of your life as a vigilante, but yet he still carried and treated you the exact same way over all these years. “Put me down!”

“Not happening.” You could feel the vibrations of Jason’s voice through the blanket and then when he took a step down the stairs you certainly felt it, the blanket bag bouncing as he walked down the stairs, your shoulder and side colliding against his toned back between the blanket which made you squeak in surprise. You could hear the voices coming from the dining room down the hall, or at least the family dining room, not the one that is used for parties and galas which only got louder as you got closer and then suddenly you were tossed over Jason’s shoulder and into a dining chair at a weird angle, the blanket draping over the chair beneath you.

“Master Jason, please refrain from carrying the young lady like a bag of produce.” You looked up to see Alfred across the table, he was setting plates of prepared food down for you all to take from, he looked up at you and smiled at you, and gave you a small bow with his head. “Good morning, Miss.” 

“Mornin’ Alfred.” You mumbled, slouching in your chair and you looked around the table. It seemed like everyone was over but people were still waking up and coming downstairs one by one. Jason took a seat down next to you, Cassandra was sitting on the other side of you, and then across the table, you could see Tim sitting down and sipping a cup of coffee and scrolling on your phone, his eyes flicking up at you for a moment, acting like he was not the one who snitched to Jason to get him to drag you out of bed. You glanced around the table and spotted there was a spot set for everyone set at the table, even a spot without a chair for when Barbara comes by to join you all for breakfast next to where Tim sat, Dick was probably picking her up. Then just like clockwork you could hear the front door open and the energetic voice of Dick from down the hall. Just as Barbara and Dick entered the dining room, Alfred set a cup down in front of you, it was hot chocolate since your father did not like you consuming caffeine but when you brought it up to your lips to take a sip you could smell the scent of espresso beans, it seems like Alfred was more in touch with the person you were than your own family, even with something as small as dietary preferences. “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Hey, sweet pea.” You heard Barbara speak as she rolled by you, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, and gave your shoulder a small squeeze. “How are you holding up?”

“I…I’m fine.” You replied as she rolled past, going around the table to take her spot next to Tim. You had a strange relationship with the police commissioner’s daughter, she was dating Dick for years but she treated you like her own sister, well a sister in the way your siblings treated you, which certainly was not normal. They all were overprotective and their relationship with you was not exactly healthy, but honestly, some of them were just clingy, and uncomfortable so, like Dick and Stephanie, especially Stephanie, then of course speak of the devil and they shall appear. After you replied to Barbara, the familiar blonde young woman stepped into the room along with Duke. Stephanie’s eyes immediately lit up and she practically skipped over to you and swung her arms over the back of your chair, giving you a hug and practically pinning you to the back of your chair. “M-morning, Steph.”

“Good morning, sleepy head.” She practically squeezed you harder from behind, practically knocking the air out of your lungs. Then luckily she finally let go, walking past Cassandra to sit down next to her. Then Duke walked past you, patting your head, brushing your hair with his fingers, his hand slipping away and slightly messing up your hair even more as he walked past Jason to sit down next to him. Something about Duke felt like he was not pretending that nothing was wrong, he knew what happened yesterday, you were traumatized as far as he knew, he was well aware of what was going on in your head right now, and everyone else was probably just walking on ice as to not set anything off in you and make you cry, you doubted that Bruce or Damian would force a smile, they probably would dive into investigating those photos after breakfast if they had not already, but they would never tell you. Cassandra was just quiet as always as she sat next to you, but that definitely did not cover up the fact that she was bothered, she knew that something was horribly wrong. 

“Master Bruce has a board meeting with investors for a new project, he will be back this afternoon,” Alfred spoke as he set cups down in front of Stephaine, Barbara, Duke, and Dick. Then just as Alfred spoke, Damian stepped into the room, his right hand resting against the upper back of the other person stepping into the room, your mother, it seemed that he woke your mother up after Bruce left this morning. “Good morning Master Damian, Mrs. Wayne.”

“Hello Alfred…” Your mother responded, only half awake as she walked over to her seat at the table but her voice trailed off as her eyes landed on you, sitting next to Cassandra and Jason. She sighed and pulled out her chair next to the head of the table, where your father would usually sit. “It seems your father was not joking when he told me you were back.”

“Ya…. Hi Mom.” You could only imagine the overwhelming feeling of guilt your mother held in her heart right now because over the years she was the only one who supported and encouraged your relationship with your now ex-fiance, though you have not told him that you were breaking up with yet, maybe it would just be best to ghost him, you doubted after seeing those photos, the reality of who he was, that he was the type of person to take rejection well, especially rejection from you, someone he had not forgotten about in years, someone he waited for years, never losing hope that you were still out there somewhere. You watched as everyone began to help themselves to the spread of food laid out in front of you all as your mother sat down and Alfred left the room to presumably clean up the kitchen. You almost completely lost your appetite at the thought of having to eat in front of them, it felt off to you, it felt fine with your friends, and you all felt comfortable with one another, there was no tension around one another or discomfort or even fear. You reached out and only grabbed two pieces of the warm toast, knowing they would not be exactly happy if you did not eat anything at all.

“Aren’t you going to get something else?” Stephanie piped up as she glanced over at your plate with barely anything on it, and of course, her words made everyone turn their heads towards you, except your mother who could not even make herself look at you. So now you were caught like a deer in headlights in front of all your so-called siblings. She did not even wait for a response from you, Stephanie just reached across the table to grab a bowl of roasted and seasoned potatoes and then reached across where Cassandra sat to put some on your plate, well some make it sound like it was a little, no the amount she put on your plate took up a quarter of the plate. “Hey Dick, pass the eggs please-” “I’m fine… I’m not really hungry.” You spoke up and you could see Barbara stiffen up from across the table, her hold on her own fork was so tight that her fingertips were starting to turn pink. “I just don’t have much of an appetite right now-”

“Were you fine when my dad and Detective Montoya kept food for the vigilante, Songbird, on them in case they ran into her, or rather you? You were starving weren’t you?” You immediately stiffened up at Barbara’s words, your blood ran ice cold as the dining room fell completely silent. Before you had Mr. Austen as your sponsor you had next to nothing, when you and your friends were runaways none of you could really get a job without probably being found and getting sent back home, especially you, you could not do anything outside of the mask, not if you did not want to get caught. Commissioner Gordon was no fool, especially with a small teenager who caught and stopped an organ trafficking ring before the GCPD even learned of it, he knew you were some street kid, well that was what you were when you ran away, and he knew he would be seeing more of you so him tossing you snacks after catching gangs and murderers were nothing to be surprised about, it was only surprising to him when you told him that he did not need to do that anymore when you got Mr. Austen as a sponsor, but Commissioner Gordon still did and over time Detective Montoya did it as well when you and Clove began working with her more often as well. “Judging by your expression it’s true, isn’t it?” “Barbara that is enough.” Your mother scolded the red-haired woman for her overprotective behavior, finally speaking up in the silent room. Your eyes looked over at your mother as she picked at her own food, clearly having lost much of her own appetite as well. “She is not starving now, she is just not hungry right now, a sentiment I share at the moment.”

“...May I be excused, Mom?” You hesitated to ask in front of all your siblings after what had just been said out loud. You looked up at her and finally, she looked at you and nodded yes and you could just see the pure pain and anguish in her eyes. So you stood up from the table and grabbed the blanket Jason had carried you down just a few minutes ago and walked towards to dining room door and before you stepped out you glanced at your mother.  “Thank you.”

______________________

Not having to worry about running out of hot water is such a nice thing, back at the warehouse you all would take timed showers so you would not run out of running water in the middle of a wash, honestly, you could not remember the last time you had taken an actual bath, it had to be before you ran away four years ago. Your body just sank into the hot water after you turned off the facet and you slipped inside, it was slightly too hot but you could not bring yourself to care at the feeling of the hot water slightly tingling and burning your skin. The smell of strawberry scent soap filled your nose as you popped open the lid of the body wash and poured a generous amount of cleaning product onto your hand before you set the open bottle aside on the edge of the tub and began washing away any grime or sweat your body had acquired over the last day and a half.

But of course, there was a reason you gave up all these nice things, and the door to your bathroom just proved your point as Damian stepped inside. Your hands immediately went to cover yourself and your body sunk farther into the bath, trying to use the white bubbles on the surface of the hot water to cover up your naked body. 

“Have you ever heard of knocking?!” You shouted at your older brother, honestly, it felt strange now, you could remember him as a boy when you were little or the teenage boy when you were in high school together but now he was a fully grown man just like how you were a fully grown woman. “You have your own bathroom in your own room!”

“Stop overreacting, I want to talk.” He rolled his eyes at your words, your overreaction was how he would phrase it.

“Okay, we can talk when I’m wearing clothes and am not naked.” 

“You act like I have not seen you without clothes before.”

“That’s not a normal thing to say you know?”

“Your clothes… they cover your scars.” There was an audible ‘oh’ that escaped your lips after Damian’s words he spoke as he came to sit on the edge of your bathtub near the faucet so he was able to look at you. “I saw them when Father was dressing your wounds a couple of weeks ago after you fell off the bridge, where are they from?”

“The same place where you all got your own.” 

“No, I mean where you specifically got them.” You watched and surprisingly let Damian reach out to touch you, more specifically a scar near your collarbone from a blade. “Like this one, where is it from?”

“A rusted pipe I landed on when I got thrown by Clayface.”

“Two years ago, correct.” His words made you pause, looking at him with a look of confusion. “I have been keeping track or the stories about you and your… friends.”

“You just did not know it was me.”

“Correct.” He paused and looked away at the moment before looking back at you from where you sat in the bathtub. “Your fight with Firefly and Killer Moth a few months ago… you stopped appearing for a few weeks after that, how bad were those injuries?”

“I…I don’t like talking about that… my friend, Clove, got really hurt during that fight, a lot worse than me.” You shifted uncomfortably, you got burned pretty badly by Firefly on your back during that fight, but Clove, she only recently fully recovered from that fight before you met Talia a few weeks ago. Clove’s whole lower body was burned to some extent along with her left arm. 

“Let me see.”

“What?! No!” You snapped back, anger brewing inside of you for your brother’s disrespect for your trauma of what happened. You heard him sigh and he reached out to grab you by under the arms and slightly pulling you out of your water and looking over your body as you were divided between fighting against him or covering your body. Then his right hand grabbed your hands and forced them in front of your body and his left hand grabbed your waist and turned you around and a sigh escaped your lips as his eyes fell on the large burn scar on your back. His left hand trailed down your spine, past your other scars, a stab wound from from some thugs who tried to unmask you, a scar from a gash from a fall you took when you caught a girl who was trying to commit sucide and you saved her life that night, her name was Elizabeth and she was someone you still kept in touch with, checking up on her on your patrols, you became her hero and she loved you so much that her mother made a homemade plushie of you in your Sogbird suit. Damian’s hand rested flat against the damaged tissue on your back and you felt your brother hesitate for a moment before finally letting you go and you immediately pushed yourself back into the tub of hot water. Damian said nothing else, but there was a look in his eye that you could not quite place as he stood up from where he sat on the edge of the tub and made his way to the door. “Hey… Damian…”

“Yes?” “I need to go somewhere today as Songbird because I didn’t… I haven’t gone the last few nights.” You paused an sighed, you were lying to him but it was a half lie, you were going to do what you told him, but not just that since there was another stop you had to make. “There is a girl who lives down by city hall-”

“There girl who you saved from killing herself, correct?”

That’s right, he kept up with the news.

“Ya, I try to visit her on my patrols and I haven’t these last few nights and I am just worried about her-” “It… it’s fine, but don’t take long, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, thank you.”

You sighed as you leaned back in the tub and while you felt slightly bad for lying to your elder brother, you did not feel bad enough to say sorry or even feel remorse. You needed to speak to someone and get a little bit of advice that you could not ask someone for as the youngest Wayne because that would catch the attention of the press and you could not just ask anyone as Songbird since attention would be drawn as well as why Songbird, a vigilante, was asking for legal advice, so who better to go to than the former district attorney who was currently locked up in Arkham Asylum for his personality disorder, for lack of a better term.

You have a visit to make to Mr. Harvey Dent since no one will look twice at Songbird paying a visit to Arkham Asylum.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Found another drabble in my notes. This one is for my saltommy lovers.

Again, can’t remember if I ever posted but you can have it anyway.

Enjoy 🩶

**********

Tommy, Hen and Chimney sat in the booth as they watched the blonde woman walk away from Sal. It was the 3rd woman that night that Sal had rejected.

“Brain tumor?” Chimney suggested.

“His head is way too solid on the inside for a tumor to grow.” Hen joked to the laughter of the others.

“Viral encephalitis?” He suggested next.

“I think we’d know if he was hallucinating.” Hen told him.

“Yeah, he’d be bragging about seeing naked women everywhere.” Tommy added with a laugh.

“Maybe he’s got a girlfriend?” Chim tried again to figure it the reason why Sal—the man whose internal compass was led by his dick pointing true north towards available women—was actively rejecting women.

“Alright, alright what gives?” He asked as Sal walked back to their table.

“Fuck are you taking about?”

“The 3 hottest women in this bar have hit on you tonight and you’ve let them all go. Why?” Hen asked. Sal rolled his eyes.

“You’re always chastising me for screwing around and now that I’m not feeling it tonight you’re chastising me again? Make up your mind—you’re giving me whiplash.” He rolled his eyes and sipped his beer.

“You’re.. not feeling it?” Chim repeated.

“Did I stutter?” Sal sarcastically responded.

“You? Sal Deluca? Known for sticking it anywhere he can is.. not feeling it?” Hen added utterly perplexed.

“You calling me a whore?” Sal asked.

“Yes.”

“Absolutely.”

“Uh-huh.”

Hen, Tommy and Chim replied simultaneously. Sal scoffed and downed the last of his beer.

“Sal, we’ll take it back if you can tell us the name of the woman you slept with last week that you met at that factory fire.” All 3 of them stared at Sal awaiting the answer that they knew wasn’t coming.

“Kitty?” He tried to remember. “Katie? Khloe? Something with a “K” I think.” He shrugged.

“She made an impression, clearly.” Chim said sarcastically.”

“Screw you.” Sal threw back.

“Seriously, what’s going on with you?” Tommy asked Sal later as he drove him home from the bar.

“Jesus Christ, Tommy, you too? I didn’t feel like having sex tonight. Didn’t realise that was a fucking crime.” Sal snapped back, frustrated.

“Come on, Sal. You’ve done nothing but screw around for the last few months since you and Gina split—you can’t be surprised that everyone thinks something is up when you suddenly stop.”

Sal scoffed. He knew Tommy was right—he had been sticking his dick in practically anything that moved in an effort to not think about his marriage ending. Although nobody knew the reason why they had divorced—and it was the right decision to end the marriage—it was still something that Sal struggled with.

Though he wasn’t particularly practicing these days, Sal was raised catholic by two very strongly catholic parents who believed divorce was never an option. He and Gina had agreed, after months of endless conversations between themselves and their priest, trying to find a way to avoid the inevitable, that going their separate ways was the best choice for both of them.

But it didn’t stop Sal from feeling like a failure. His marriage was built on a lie and he simply couldn’t continue it, but having it drilled into you your whole life that marriage was for forever, did make harder to emotionally walk away from.

“You coming in for a beer?” He asked as Tommy pulled his truck to stop outside Sals house. Tommy knew him well enough to know by the tone in which the question asked meant that Sal wanted him to come in but didn’t have the emotional confidence to say so.

Being able to read Sal’s emotions by his tone or facial expressions was something that Tommy had become an expert in. Sal would throw himself into a burning building no questions asked; courage seeping from his every pore. But opening up emotionally? He’d have to be incredibly drunk or in a really bad way to even consider it. That’s how he found out Sal and Gina had split—Sal banging on Tommy’s door, drunk as all hell, at 3am.

“Sure.” Tommy agreed and followed Sal into his house.

It was a modest, 2 bedroom, single story home. Far smaller than the house he’d shared with Gina and the twins. There wasn’t much to it inside, at least compared to Tommy’s house—Sal had called it cluttered but Tommy insisted it was simply cosy. Sal, on the other hand didn’t seem to have many things. Aside from basic furniture and kitchen equipment there wasn’t much else. No knickknacks or themed decor, no artwork hung up save for drawings the girls has made that Sal had stuck to his fridge. You didn’t need to be an expert in human psychology to immediately know it was a house lived in by a divorced dad.

“Jesus, Sal. Ever hear of art?” Tommy quipped looking around.

“That was Gina’s forte. I couldn’t give a shit to be honest.” He took two beers from the fridge and handed one to Tommy.

“How is Gina? With the divorce.”

“Well she’s stopped cursing me every chance she gets so better, I think.” Sal replied with an amused tone.

“Sal.” Tommy admonished. “Are you really not going to tell me why you left her?”

Sal scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t leave your wife after 15 years of marriage for something that doesn’t matter.” Tommy said. “Did she cheat on you?”

“No.” Sal replied quickly almost offended by the accusation.

“Did you cheat on her?”

Sal hesitated before answering “No.” Tommy caught it and stared at him for a moment.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You hesitated.”

“No I didn’t.” Sal argued downing the rest of his beer before removing another from his fridge.

“Yes you did. Sal, you can tell me the truth. I’m not going to judge you.”

Sal looked down at his beer bottle as he contemplated answering Tommy. The thing is, Tommy of all people would absolutely understand why Sal needed to end his marriage. But that was part of the problem—he didn’t want someone telling him he did the right thing. He deserved the guilt that he felt as far as he was concerned and he didn’t want someone helping to relieve it.

But there was pain in nobody knowing the truth. Hiding the truth, hiding himself, especially from his best friend, was slowly and painfully gnawing at him.

“Sal.” Tommy’s voice was soft and reassuring. Sal looked up to see Tommy looking at him earnestly. The bastard made always made it easier to open up.

“I..” Sal knew the words. He thought the words; had done for months—even though he’d tried his damndest not to—But had never said them out loud. He looked at Tommy, hoping he’d somehow telepathically gain the answer directly from Sals brain so he wouldn’t have to say it. He’d finally accepted it as truth, but speaking the words out loud he just wasn’t ready for.

Especially saying them to Tommy. He didn’t know it but he was the catalyst to Sals marriage ending. At least, it was Tommy that had started Sal’s questioning.

He’d always admired Tommy’s physique—he worked hard at it and Sal appreciated a man who took the gym seriously. He’d watch as Tommys muscles flexed and tensed as he worked out in the station gym and for a while—years, even—it was a simple admiration for the hard work Tommy put in. Maybe even tinged with a hint of jealousy when he’d lift heavier than Sal could.

He found himself one day imagining what Tommys biceps would feel like. That wasn’t abnormal, right? Simple curiosity at whether they’d feel like his. The day they’d come back to the station after a hell of a fire; Tommy covered in sweat and soot, and Sal had the fleeting image in his mind of licking it from Tommy’s arm, was the day he realised that that wasn’t something you would usually imagine about your platonic best friend.

He’d pushed the thought away, of course, because absolutely no fucking way. But, as they always do, those thoughts returned. And returned and returned and returned. Every time they did Sal did his best to push them down and away. He loved Gina. Sure, they’d only gotten married because they found out she was pregnant, but they would have gotten married eventually anyway, right? And okay, he didn’t feel fireworks when they kissed or had sex, or as though his breathing hinged on her existing like the couples in those shitty movies she’d make him watch, but this was real life—real marriages, real relationships, weren’t like that.

Except Tommy.. When he looked at Sal he felt a warm sickly feeling in his stomach. He’d never felt that when Gina looked at him.

Slowly, he began to realise that though he did love Gina—she was an incredible, feisty, intelligent woman who was one of the few people who could call Sal out on his bullshit which he actually respected, he wasn’t in love with her. And if when he really thought bout it he never had been.

He’d tried to ignore it; to pretend that everything was fine and normal. He’d made vows to Gina that were life long no matter what.

But it ate at him. He’d began drinking more and coming home from shift later and later. If he could avoid seeing his wife then he could avoid the twisting guilt that wrecked his stomach. But eventually it all became too much and one night, after a particularly heavy night of whiskey drinking, Gina had had enough and confronted him. He tried denying anything was wrong but god damn it she wouldn’t leave it the hell alone!

And the truth came tumbling out of his mouth.

Tears and screaming followed. And then, after a few days of near silence, they decided to try and make it work. Mostly for the kids sake, but also because they both knew how their families would react to a divorce.

Sal tried. He really did—for months he put everything into trying to make it work. But the truth about who he was got harder and harder to ignore. It took a night of drinking that led to alcohol poisoning and his stomach being pumped to finally make him realise that he couldn’t live like this anymore.

He stood across the kitchen from Tommy, still looking at him hoping that he’d just simply know; that he’d take the pressure off Sal having to say the words out loud.

“My family..” he eventually spoke as Tommy helped himself to another beer and leant back against the kitchen island opposite Sal. “There’s a way you do things. You find a nice girl, you get married, pop out some kids and that it. No deviation. It’s what’s done. Doesn’t matter what you want or.. or who you are really—you shove that down; pretend it doesn’t exist, and you provide for your family.”

Tommy looked at him confused. “Shove what down?”

“The truth. And I tried. I did what was supposed to be done. But it all just got too fucking much and I couldn’t do it anymore.” Sals jaw clenched and he swallowed away the thick emotion rising in his throat. It was bad enough that he had a failed marriage under his belt, and that his family were still disappointed in him, but now he was almost crying like a fucking 5 year old girl!

“What truth, Sal?” Tommy asked still confused. Sal finally looked up at him. Of all the people he could say the words to, he knew that Tommy would be the one who he could say them too. But still, the words were stuck in his throat; barbed and hooked in to the skin.

“I..”

“It’s okay, Sal. Whatever it is.”

There was something in Tommy’s expression—something earnest. And inviting. Sal had pictured it a thousand times; fantasised, actually, but he’d convinced himself that it would never be a reality. Tommy was his best friend. He couldn’t. They couldn’t.

But he was just enough over the line of sobriety to give him confidence in the moment. And before he could second guess himself he closed the few feet of distance between them, put his hand on the back of Tommy’s neck and connected their lips.

**********

[icouldbeyourprettygirl]

He texted me again while he was high. When I asked him why he always comes to ME when he's under the influence, he didn't respond

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Daddy, don't go.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time

I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist

Jayce:

-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”

Viktor:

-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”

Ekko:

-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry

Vander:

-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.

-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married

Silco (old man):

-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”

Silco (young):

-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy

Steb:

-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready

Jinx:

-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman

Vi:

-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”

-"My... wife?"

-"Again"

Caitlyn:

-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled

Mel:

-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue

Sevika:

-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple

[rafecameronssl4t]

Actors on Actors || Drew Starkey x actress!reader

Summary: Actress!reader and Drew partaking in Variety's Actors on Actors!!

Warnings: not proofread sozz

Word count: 3,057 loooong one

A/n: damn I felt like I was in the interview room for this one

MASTERLIST

Drew couldn’t keep his eyes off you as the crew flitted around, prepping for the Actors on Actors interview with Variety. You were standing just a few feet away, laughing lightly at something one of the staff members had said, your head tilted back, eyes sparkling. To him, you looked utterly breathtaking—ethereal, even. Everyone knew Drew Starkey had the biggest crush on you.

He was never subtle about it, often caught in candid interviews or behind-the-scenes clips praising you, his admiration so obvious it became a running joke among his friends and colleagues. But right now, as he adjusted his mic and watched you from the corner of his eye, he wished he hadn’t been so vocal about it. His nerves were getting the best of him.

What if he said something dumb? What if you already thought he was just some lovesick fool? He swallowed hard, trying to calm the fluttering in his chest as you walked toward the set, your heels clicking softly against the floor. “Drew Starkey,” you greeted warmly, a radiant smile lighting up your features as you settled into the armchair opposite him.

You sat first, crossing your legs effortlessly, the picture of poise. “Y/n,” Drew smiled back, leaning forward slightly to kiss both of your cheeks. The casual intimacy of the gesture sent his pulse racing, but he played it cool as you let out a soft laugh, your perfume lingering faintly in the air.

“How’s it going?” he asked, his tone steady, though there was a barely perceptible edge to it—a nervous undertone that betrayed just how much this moment meant to him. His gaze lingered on yours, longer than what might be considered polite, but you didn’t seem to mind. “I’m good, and—” You paused mid-sentence as Drew suddenly leaned forward, his brows knitting together.

“Sorry—hold on,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, softer, as his fingers reached toward the hem of your dress. “You’ve got a little something.” Before you could respond, he gently plucked a stray piece of lint from the fabric, his fingertips brushing ever so lightly against the material.

The touch was fleeting, almost inconsequential, but it sent a quiet thrill up your spine, one you quickly masked with a polite chuckle. “Oh—thanks,” you said, your voice airy as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re welcome,” Drew replied, his lips curving into a shy grin, his usual confidence momentarily replaced by something more boyish and endearing.

For a moment, you could swear his ears turned a little pink. You leaned back, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you studied him. Of course you knew Drew Starkey had a crush on you. It wasn’t exactly a secret.

But there was something undeniably flattering about it—something that made you feel just a bit lighter, a bit more self-assured. However, you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a crush on him. It was Drew Starkey after all.

Your eyes met again, and the silence between you stretched into something that felt almost electric. Both of you wore soft, bashful smiles, the moment teetering between unspoken words and playful tension. Finally, you broke into a small laugh, breaking the spell, and Drew looked away, scratching the back of his neck, his own smile lingering despite himself.

“You know,” you began, shifting slightly in your seat, “it’s kind of funny. We’ve both been at so many of the same events, but we’ve never actually talked until now.” Drew chuckled, his posture relaxing just a little. “I know, right? It’s crazy. First time was… the Glass Onion premiere, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, humming in agreement. “Yeah, I was there supporting Madelyn," Drew spoke. "Ugh, I miss Maddie," You give a small pout as Drew chuckles. “And then Immaculate, I remember standing right behind you in the photo line.” You laughed, your cheeks warming at the memory.

“Oh my god, yes! And somehow, we still didn’t even say hi.” “And then the Queer premiere a couple weeks ago,” Drew said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Right,” you said, leaning forward slightly as your laughter softened into a chuckle. “It’s wild how we’ve been orbiting around each other this whole time.”

“Crazy, huh?” Drew murmured, his voice lower now, his eyes soft as they lingered on you. The way he looked at you was different—not just admiration, but genuine warmth, curiosity, and something else you couldn’t quite place. “How’s everything been?” Drew asks, leaning back in his chair, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity, as if he genuinely wants to know every detail.

“It’s good,” you reply with a soft smile, shifting slightly in your seat. “I’m here in LA, which is nice—” Before you can finish, he interjects, his brow arching in curiosity. “You’re from New England, right?” You click your tongue playfully, tilting your head at him. “I see someone’s done their research, Mr. Starkey,” you tease, flashing him a playful wink.

Drew’s grin widens, and he throws his head back in laughter, the sound rich and easy, like he’s completely at ease for the first time since the cameras started rolling. “I had to, didn’t I? You’re not exactly an open book. I had to dig deep.” “Oh, is that so?” you challenge, your voice lilting with mock skepticism.

“Well, since you’re so curious, tell me—what do you know about New England?” you challenge, leaning forward slightly. He grins, but it’s a little sheepish. “Not much, if I’m honest. You’ll have to fill in the blanks for me. What’s it like there?” Your eyes widen in exaggerated disbelief, your hand fluttering to your chest like you’ve been insulted.

“Wait—you’ve never been? My goodness, Drew! Come with me, and I’ll show you around properly,” you say, your tone teasing but full of warmth. His smile softens, and he leans in just a little. “I’d like that very much,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that makes your breath hitch for a fraction of a second. “Well then,” you reply with a chuckle, regaining your composure.

“I think we can organise something. You’re from North Carolina, yeah?” Drew hums in confirmation, his grin widening. “Born and raised. But I gotta admit, New England sounds pretty tempting now.” “It should,” you quip, pointing at him playfully. Then, after a beat, you lean in slightly, an amused gleam in your eye.

“Can I just say—and I’m sure you get this a lot—I’m a huge fan of Outer Banks.” Drew raises an eyebrow, his grin turning slightly bashful as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re team Pogue,” he jokes, but his eyes are fixed on you with a playful sparkle.

You snort softly, clasping your hands together in your lap. “Not quite. But I’ve gotta say, you play Rafe so convincingly. How do you approach a character like Rafe? I mean, you’re, you know… the complete opposite of him.” You chuckle, your words carrying a mix of admiration and disbelief.

Drew leans back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before clearing his throat. “Well, Rafe is a challenge, to say the least. He’s not your typical villain. It’s easy to hate him on the surface, but if you dig deeper, he’s this broken guy with so many vulnerabilities. That’s where I try to focus—on making him human. I want people to see why he makes those awful decisions, even if they don’t agree with them. It’s all about balance.”

You nod, your expression softening as you listen. “That’s fascinating,” you say earnestly. “It’s definitely what makes him such a compelling character.” Drew smiles, but you notice something different about his gaze. He isn’t just answering your question—he’s watching you, his eyes holding a softness that makes your heart skip a beat.

Before the moment can linger too long, Drew shifts the focus back to you. “And your character in Ghosted,” he says, his voice warm and curious. “It’s so different from anything you’ve done before. How did you prepare for that role?” You smile at the question, grateful for his genuine interest.

“It was a lot of emotional work,” you admit, leaning back slightly. “She’s so different from me in so many ways. I spent a lot of time understanding her motivations, her fears, and what drives her. It’s a very internal role, so the process was… draining, to say the least. But also rewarding.” Drew’s lips curve into a soft smile as he leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Sounds intense,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I’ve always wondered in the film how you guys manage to keep it together when the emotions run that deep.” You shrug lightly, a thoughtful smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not easy, but that’s the beauty of the craft, isn’t it? Tapping into those emotions and channelling them into something real.”

Drew nods, his expression softening even further. There’s something unspoken in his gaze—something that lingers longer than words can express. “Yeah,” he says finally, his voice dropping just a fraction. “I get that. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re incredible. I’ve seen your work—it’s inspiring.” His words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity, and you can’t help the rush of warmth that floods your chest.

A small, genuine smile spreads across your face. “I could say the same for you,” you reply softly, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, it’s like the rest of the room fades away, leaving just the two of you, sharing something unspoken yet deeply understood. Drew shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity evident. “So, let’s talk about Saltburn. You played Venetia Catton. How did you even begin to prepare for a role like that?"

You smile, the mention of Saltburn immediately bringing back memories. “Honestly, Venetia was one of the most challenging but rewarding roles I’ve ever taken on. Emerald Fennell has such a sharp, specific vision as a director, and she brought so much depth to every single character. Venetia wasn’t just the surface-level socialite that she might appear to be at first glance. She’s deeply entrenched in this world of privilege, but there’s a kind of desperation underneath it all—this need to hold it all together, to maintain this facade of control.”

Drew nods, his expression thoughtful. “I feel like Emerald has this incredible knack for creating characters who feel both larger than life and painfully real. What was it like working with her?” “Incredible,” you answer without hesitation. “Emerald is so collaborative and detail-oriented, but she also gives you the freedom to bring your own interpretation to the role. She’s this powerhouse of creativity, and you always feel like you’re in safe hands with her. She’s also hilarious—like, incredibly funny—so even on the more intense days, there was always this underlying sense of ease on set.”

Drew smiles at that, clearly invested. “And then there’s the cast. I mean, Rosamund Pike, Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordi—they’re all such giving actors. What was it like working alongside them?” You exhale softly, recalling the dynamic energy of the cast. “It was surreal, honestly. Rosamund Pike is… well, she’s Rosamund Pike. She’s this commanding presence on set, but she’s also so warm and generous as a scene partner. Barry, on the other hand, is just a chameleon. He’s fearless in the way he approaches his craft, and watching him work was like taking a masterclass every day.”

“And Jacob?” Drew asks, his tone light but curious. “He’s been everywhere lately.” “Jacob’s amazing,” you reply with a smile. “He’s so grounded, which is kind of funny considering the larger-than-life characters he’s been playing lately. But on set, he’s just this really laid-back, thoughtful guy. We had a lot of fun with our scenes together—he brings this kind of effortless charisma that makes everything feel natural.”

Drew leans back in his chair, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a stacked team. No pressure at all, right?” You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no pressure whatsoever. Just casually working with some of the most talented people in the industry.” “Well, you pulled it off,” Drew says sincerely. “Venetia felt so fully realised—like, even in her silences, there was so much going on beneath the surface. It was fascinating to watch.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, his compliment catching you off guard. There’s an earnestness in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. “So,” you say, shifting into the next topic, “you’ve played a lot of interesting characters—Rafe Cameron, of course, but also roles like Zach in The Other Zoey and the projects you’ve got coming up. Do you feel like people expect you to stick to certain kinds of roles because of how iconic Rafe has become?”

Drew’s smile fades just a little, his expression turning thoughtful. He seems to appreciate the question, his blue eyes searching yours for a moment before he answers. “Yeah, there’s definitely that expectation sometimes,” he admits. “Rafe is such a big character, and I think when people see you in one role, they assume that’s all you can do. But as actors, we want to stretch ourselves, you know? Surprise people.”

He pauses, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s kind of like you, actually,” he adds softly. “You’ve done dramas, you’ve done comedies… you’ve proven that you’re not just one thing. I think that’s what makes people really root for you—you're versatile. You don’t let them put you in a box.” The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you can feel heat rise to your cheeks again. You shift slightly in your seat, trying not to let his words completely throw you off balance.

“That’s… really nice of you to say,” you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think that’s the beauty of what we do, right? Showing people different sides of ourselves, through the characters we play.” Drew nods, his eyes softening. “Exactly. You just said it better than I could.” You smile, letting the moment hang between you for just a beat longer than it probably should.

You adjust in your seat, leaning forward slightly as you shift the focus of the interview. “Alright, let’s talk about Queer. You play Eugene, and from everything I’ve heard, it’s such an emotionally rich and complex role. What drew you to it, Drew?" You smile as he laughs. “Honestly, it was the script. You know with it being based on William S. Burroughs’ novel, and the way it explored themes of longing, identity, and self-destruction… it was just so raw. Eugene is such a fascinating character because he’s flawed, but you can’t help but empathise with him. It felt like a challenge I couldn’t pass up.”

You nod, smiling softly. “It sounds like it required you to really dig deep emotionally. Was it intimidating stepping into a story like that?” “Completely,” Drew admits with a laugh. “But it was also the kind of role that forces you to grow as an actor. I had to be vulnerable in a way I hadn’t been before, which was scary but also freeing. And having someone like Luca Guadagnino directing—it felt like a safety net, you know? He creates such a safe, collaborative environment.”

“Luca’s brilliant,” you agree, your voice filled with admiration. “And then there’s Daniel Craig. What was your experience working with him? I mean- I remember working with him on Glass Onion and being blow away by how meticulous he is." Drew grins, a flicker of boyish excitement crossing his face. “Oh, he’s incredible. Daniel is one of those actors who’s just so present in every scene. He has this intensity, but he’s also really generous as a scene partner. He listens, reacts—he makes you feel like what you’re doing really matters.”

You smile, nodding your head, "He's also got such a great sense of humour!" Drew laughs, nodding. “Exactly! Like, he can go from delivering this super heavy, emotional scene to cracking a joke that has the entire crew in stitches. It’s such a unique balance, and it keeps the energy on set really light, even during the intense moments.”

“Do you have a favourite memory with him from filming?” you ask, genuinely curious. “There’s this one scene we did that was really emotionally charged—like, full-on tears and everything,” Drew begins, his smile softening. “After we wrapped the take, I was still kind of in that headspace, and Daniel just clapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Well, that was bloody exhausting, wasn’t it?’ It snapped me out of it, and we both just started laughing. It was one of those moments where you realise, ‘Okay, this is heavy, but it’s also what we love to do.’”

You laugh at the image of Daniel’s bluntness, shaking your head. “That’s so him. He has a way of grounding you, doesn’t he?” “Completely,” Drew agrees. “And honestly, having him on set made me feel like I had to step up my game. He’s such a pro, and you can’t help but want to match that level of commitment.”

You tilt your head, studying him for a moment. “It sounds like Queer really pushed you as an actor, in the best way.” “It did,” Drew says earnestly. “And, you know, hearing you talk about working with Daniel—what was it like for you? I mean, I imagine Glass Onion had a very different vibe, but I’m sure he brought that same energy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you reply. “Daniel has this way of making everyone feel like they’re part of something special. And with Glass Onion, there was this playful energy because the story is so twisty and fun, but Daniel was always so focused and intentional with every scene.” Drew leans in slightly, clearly fascinated. “Did you ever have one of those moments with him where you just stopped and thought, ‘Wow, I’m working with James Bond’?”

You laugh, nodding. “More than once! It’s impossible not to. But then you get to know him, and he’s just… Daniel. Down-to-earth, funny, and incredibly kind. It makes you forget about the whole ‘James Bond’ thing—at least for a little while.” Drew grins. “That’s good to know. I feel like we’ve both been lucky to work with him, even if I’m still a little starstruck.”

“That’s what Daniel Craig does to you, ladies and gentlemen,” you teased, your laughter light as you pointed at the camera, winking playfully. Drew’s amused chuckle followed, a soft sound that matched the warmth in your tone. The atmosphere of the interview had shifted, the playful banter between the two of you creating an easy camaraderie as the conversation drew to a close.

“Well, I think we’ve discovered we have a lot in common after all,” Drew said, his smile widening as he turned toward you. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and genuine appreciation. “This has been a great pairing, truly.”

Your smile softened as you met his gaze, the connection between the two of you almost palpable. “I think so too,” you responded, your voice light and sincere, a soft chuckle escaping you as your gaze lingered on him. “Very great pairing,” you added, your words more than just agreement—there was an unspoken understanding, a mutual respect that hung in the air.

Drew’s smile widened slightly at your reply, the chemistry between the two of you becoming more evident as the final moments of the interview came into focus. Despite the cameras and the public personas, there was something undeniably real in the exchange, something that hinted at more than just a professional connection.

[greengoblinswifey]

Little Do You Know—Player 001/Hwang In Ho x Fem!Reader

summary—after making a passing remark on the possibility of the front man being attractive, your crush on young-il who unbeknownst to you is the front man, boils over. based on this request.

warnings— flirting, oral(f&m receiving), praising, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie.

The group sat gathered around with a small meal, the kind of makeshift dinner that felt comforting despite the bleak circumstances. Gi-hun leaned back, his arms crossed, recounting some story about the Front Man. “I’m telling you, he has cameras everywhere. He probably sees and hears everything we’re saying.”

The mood was tense, as it often was when the Front Man became the topic of conversation. But your lips twitched upward, a thought making you suppress a giggle.

Dae-ho, ever the curious one, caught it immediately. “What’s so funny?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in your direction.

You waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, nothing. It’s silly. Forget it.”

Young-il, sitting across from you, tilted his head slightly, his expression soft. “Come on,” he said gently, his voice soothing in a way that made you feel oddly safe. “Anything you have to say, we’ll appreciate. Don’t hold back.”

Encouraged by his tone, you hesitated for just a moment before shrugging. “Alright, but don’t judge me.” You exhaled a breathy laugh, looking down at your lap for a second before glancing back up. “What if the Front Man is, like—really hot?”

The reaction was instant. Dae-ho choked on his milk, sputtering, while Jun-Hee’s eyes widened slightly before she went back to eating as if she hadn’t heard you. Even Jung-Bae, usually laid back, looked at you like you’d just grown a second head.

“Seriously?” Gi-hun said, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s what you’re concerned about?”

“What?” you asked defensively, your shoulders lifting in mock innocence. “I’m just saying. It’s possible!”

Gi-hun groaned, covering his face with his hands. “We’re talking about a guy who might be orchestrating all this madness, and you’re worried if he’s good-looking?”

Before you could respond, your eyes flicked to Young-il. Everyone else was either laughing awkwardly or shaking their heads, but Young-il wasn’t saying a word. Instead, a subtle smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, almost imperceptible to anyone else. Almost.

Your gaze stayed on him for a moment, your brow quirking as you tilted your head slightly in return, a silent question hanging between the two of you. His smirk deepened just enough for you to catch the meaning, amusement, maybe even intrigue, but he quickly smoothed his expression before anyone else noticed. He was hot too, you thought.

Gi-hun, still shaking his head, muttered, “Out of everything you could be thinking about.”

“Well, excuse me for lightening the mood,” you shot back playfully, rolling your eyes. “It’s not like I said I wanted to marry him or something. Geez.”

As the group moved on, you couldn’t help but replay the moment in your head. Maybe you were overthinking it, but wasn’t Young-il’s smirk a little too knowing? Or maybe it was just your ridiculous crush on him twisting your perception. You’d never admit it out loud, but you found yourself drawn to his quiet confidence, the calm authority he exuded even in casual moments like this.

It was ironic, really, here you were crushing on Young-il while joking about the Front Man. Little did you know, the very man you were teasing about might as well have been sitting right in front of you, wearing the mask in plain sight.

You shook the thought off with a small laugh. Overthinking, as usual. Still, when Young-il glanced your way again, his gaze warm and unreadable, you couldn’t stop your stomach from fluttering.

The night had settled into a familiar stillness, broken only by the occasional shuffle of someone shifting in their sleep. You couldn’t sleep, your earlier exchange with Young-il replaying in your mind. That smirk, so brief, had lodged itself in your thoughts.

You were still awake when he appeared, his footsteps quiet as he approached where you lay, tucked into a dim corner of the quarters. He didn’t say anything at first, just crouched down beside you, his dark eyes searching yours.

“Can’t sleep either?” he asked softly.

“Guess not,” you replied.

He tilted his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Still thinking about the Front Man being hot?”

“I didn’t mean to make it weird,” you said laughing and flustered.

“You didn’t,” he assured you. “But if I didn’t know better, I’d say you might have a type.”

Your cheeks warmed under his words, and you rolled your eyes, trying to deflect. “Oh, come on. I was joking.”

“Were you?” he teased, his smile widening just a bit.

You were about to retort, but something in his expression stopped you. His hand, warm and steady, brushed against your cheek, lingering for just a moment before he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“You know,” he said, his tone teasing, “if you wanted to get something off your chest, now’s the time.”

Your breath hitched. “What are you trying to say, Young-il?”

“Just that I’m here,” he replied, “If there’s something you want.”

His words sent a jolt through you, and before you could second guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss started slow, testing the waters, but quickly deepened as his hand came up to cradle your face.

The thought of the games seemed to fall away as you lost yourself in the way his lips moved against yours. His hands were firm but gentle, holding your face as the kiss turned hungrier, more insistent. His fingers found their way into your hair, tugging slightly, drawing a low moan from him that you quickly stifled.

“Quiet,” he murmured against your lips, a teasing smirk playing on his face as his thumb brushed over your cheek. “We wouldn’t want to wake anyone, would we?”

Your heart raced as his lips moved to your neck, his hands on your waist as he guided you back against the small bed. He trailed kisses down your chest, his kisses slow and savoring every moment.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as his kisses grew bolder, trailing lower. He pulled off your bottoms and your lace panties, tongue licking from your hole to your clit. The way he did it so suddenly, so smoothly, made your pussy throb. You instinctively bit down on your lip, your hands fisting the fabric beneath you as you fought to keep your composure.

“Relax,” he whispered. “Let me taste you.”

His hands slid down your thighs, spreading them open as he adjusted your position. He glanced up at you, his dark eyes meeting yours with a glimmer of mischief and tenderness. You pressed your lips together tightly, his skilled tongue flicking your clit then moving to your leaking hole.

“Don’t hold back too much,” he murmured, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I want to hear those pretty moans, just a little.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, his tone leaving you breathless. You felt the warmth of his fingertips on your thighs and the tenderness of his kisses on your pussy, and his praises were a quiet balm to the storm of emotions swirling inside you because of the game.

“You taste so fucking good,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

Your fingers gripped his shoulders as he continued ravishing your pussy, mouth engulfing you and sucking as though the meal from earlier wasn’t enough. He was attentive to your pleasure, fingers pumping steadily inside your pussy as sucked and flicked your clit with precision. The precision you expected and appreciated in an older man. No one had ever made you feel this good. The pleasure was otherworldly and your legs shook from it all.

The coil in your abdomen and euphoria built with every passing second and you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep quiet. His words and actions blurred together, creating a warmth that left you trembling. When his tongue brought you to your peak, you bit down on your lip to stifle a cry, your entire body shuddering as he pressed a soft kiss to your clit.

“You did amazing,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your ear as he leaned closer.

You gently nudged Young-il to lie back, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “My turn,” you murmured, your fingers grazing the waistband of his bottoms.

He raised an eyebrow, a chuckle escaping him, but there was no mistaking the lust in his gaze. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you interrupted softly.

Slowly, you slid his bottoms down, taking in the sight of his, long, thick cock with a mixture of nervousness and determination. He was big, but you could take him. His sharp inhale was audible as your lips wrapped around the head, his hand instinctively brushing against your cheek as you went down.

“You’re too good to me,” he whispered, his voice low and tinged with awe.

Your fingers wrapped around his girth, careful and deliberate, and you began to stroke as you sucked with a rhythm that earned a quiet moan from him. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, but you focused, letting his quiet praises guide you.

“Just like that,” he murmured, his fingers threading in your curls. “You’re doing so well.”

You glanced up at him, mouth full, eyes watering and saliva mixed with pre cum dripping down your chin. Your cheeks warmed from his words and the darkness of his gaze. The way he looked at you like you were the most beautiful little thing in the world as you took him down your throat made your heart race. You bobbed your head faster, using as much tongue as you could on his thick shaft, your actions conveying what words couldn’t.

The effect was immediate. His head fell back against the pillow, a low moan escaping him as his free hand gripped the fabric beneath him.

“God, you’re incredible,” he said, his voice rough. “That pretty face of yours, how will I last?”

You couldn’t help but smile with his cock buried in your throat, your movements continued, now slower and purposeful as you went up and down. His breathing grew heavier, and his hand in your hair tightened slightly as he struggled to maintain composure.

“You’re too good,” he managed, his voice breaking slightly. “I—”

Before he could finish, the coil in him snapped, and his praises were replaced with a low, drawn out moan of relief. You swallowed the ropes of hot cum, watching as he tried to catch his breath, his gaze locking with yours almost immediately.

“You’re perfect,” he said, his tone full of affection and disbelief. He reached out to cup your face, pulling you closer until his lips pressed against yours, savoring the taste of himself on your lips.

Your confidence emboldened by the way he looked at you with dazed, lust filled eyes. His hands still rested on your waist, fingers brushing your skin as you leaned into him, your voice soft but teasing.

“Can I ride you?” you asked, pussy aching for him.

His lips curved into a smile, his thumbs drawing slow circles on your hips. “Anything you want, princess,” he murmured.

You bit your lip as you shifted, settling over his hard cock with a nervous laugh that he silenced by cupping your cheek. “Take your time,” he said.

When you finally sank down onto his length, his hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you with a steady rhythm that sent shivers down your spine. The quiet moan he let out made you even wetter, and you instinctively leaned forward, resting your hands on his chest for balance.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough but filled with admiration. “You ride me so well, just like that.”

His praises made you bolder, and you bounced on his cock with more confidence, your breathing shallow as he let his hands roam, one sliding up to gently cup your tits. The warmth of his touch made you bite back a moan and his eyes darkened as he noticed.

“You’ve got to be quiet pretty girl,” he whispered, his hands still steadying you. “Think you can do that?”

You nodded quickly, though the feeling building inside you made it harder with every moment. His grip on your hips tightened, and he thrusted up into you, the two of you finding a rhythm that made it impossible to focus on anything but how he stretched your pussy. He was so big, your pussy was sure to remember the shape of his cock after you were done.

“I want to cum with you,” you admitted breathlessly, leaning down so your lips were close to his ear. “Inside me.”

Young-il’s breath hitched, his eyes meeting yours with pure lust. A slow smirk spread across his face. “Beg for it,” he whispered.

Your cheeks burned, but the desire in his gaze made you bold. “Please,” you murmured, leaning closer. “I want you to cum with me. Please.”

He groaned softly, his hands gripping your hips even tighter. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice unsteady. “Just hold on to me.”

The pleasure between you reached its peak as his praises and your whispered pleas filled the air. When the release finally came, it was almost overwhelming, and you buried your face against his neck to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. His hands held you firmly in place as he came with you, cum spurting inside you while you soaked his cock, his breaths ragged but filled with relief.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured after a long pause, brushing stray strands of hair from your face. His gaze softened as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart racing as you settled against him. “So are you,” you whispered back, letting the moment linger in the quiet comfort of his embrace.

[lov3notts]

hot tub

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Summary: Theo can't keep his hands off you after seeing you in a swim suit, but lack the privacy to really show you how much craves you, I guess the the hot tub will do for now

warnings: smut, semi-public, cream pie, use of pet names, kinda both point of views?? idk

a/n: had the sudden motivation to write!! also I've made a library blog(consists of me only rebloging all of my work)

18+only: minors don’t interact

Navigation; masterlist; request rules

Theodore's eyes darken with desire as he watches you approach the hot tub, your figure accentuated by the revealing swimsuit. A slow smile spreads across his face as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your curves. 

As you slip into the hot tub, the warm water envelops your body, sending a shiver of pleasure through you. You settle in next to Theodore, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.

His hand finds your thigh, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your smooth skin, softly massaging you. You tilt your head back, your eyes fluttering closed as you relax into his touch.

"Mmm, that feels nice baby " you murmur, a soft smile playing at your lips.

God the way his hands hit all the right spots

Fuck, he was hard. He was so hard. It'd be so so easy to tug you into his lap and fuck you senseless , but no. He wasn't gonna go that far. not yet anyways

Luckily, the bubbling of the hot tub made it difficult to peer under the surface. Everything was warped and bubbly, and only slight silhouettes were visible. Theo was about to take that shit to his advantage.

"Come here, amore" he murmurs, his voice low and seductive

Before you can respond, he tugs you onto his lap, your body settling against his in the warm water. You gasp, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance

Theodore's hand slides around your waist, tugging you closer until you're straddling his lap. You gasp as you feel his hardness pressing insistently against your core through the water.

"I need you so fucking bad" he groans, grinding his rock-hard cock against your core. "Need to be inside you. Need to feel your tight little cunt squeezing my dick."

His lips find your neck, trailing hot, wet kisses along your skin. You moan softly, your head falling back as you surrender to his touch.

Theodore's hand continues its torturous exploration beneath the surface of the water, his fingers dancing along your sensitive skin.

His touch is maddening, alternating between feather-light caresses and firm, purposeful strokes. You squirm in his grasp, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps

He captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a hunger that steals your breath away. You moan into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his dark brown locks.

His fingers tracing the curve of your breast. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatens to escape. The heat of the water and the intensity of Theodore's touch are almost too much to bear.

Around you, his friends continue their conversation, seemingly unaware of the passion simmering just beneath the surface. They laugh and joke, splashing each other playfully in the cool water of the pool.

Theodore's hand slips lower, his fingers skimming over your stomach and towards the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms. You gasp, your hips instinctively lifting to give him better access.

"Theo" you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper. "We can't... Not here."

But even as you say the words, you can feel your resolve crumbling under the weight of his touch. The risk, the thrill of possibly being caught, only serves to heighten your arousal.

Theodore's hand cups you intimately, his fingers stroking your most sensitive spot. He nuzzles your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he whispers,

"Relax, tesoro. No one's paying attention to us. They think we're just a couple being affectionate."

His fingers dip lower, slipping beneath the fabric of your swimsuit. You gasp, your body tensing at the intimate contact. Theodore chuckles, the sound low and seductive.

"See? Nothing to worry about. Just enjoy it."

"Theo, please" you whisper, your voice trembling. "Not here. Someone might see."

Theo’s hand slips further, his fingers delving deeper. You cry out, the sound muffled by his lips as he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. His tongue plunders your mouth, matching the rhythm of his hand's movements.

Theodore's hand slides lower, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip. You bite your lip, your body responding to his touch despite your best efforts to resist. The game, the thrill of the chase, it's all so intoxicating. You can feel yourself being drawn in deeper and deeper, unable to resist the pull of Theodore's touch.

His tongue delving into your mouth with a hunger that steals your breath away. You moan into his mouth, your body pressing closer to his.

Around you, the party continues, the music pulsing and the laughter ringing out. But in your little corner of the hot tub, it's just you and Theodore, lost in a world of your own making.

you let your own hands start to explore his body. Your fingers trace the defined lines of his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin. He groans softly, his head falling back as you tease him.

"That's it, amore" he encourages, his voice low and husky. "Touch me. Make me feel good."

Your hand slides lower, skimming over his abs and down to the waistband of his swim trunks. You can feel him twitch beneath your touch, his body responding to your boldness.

Theodore's hands grow bolder, tugging at your swimsuit until the fabric is pulled aside, exposing your most intimate parts. You gasp, your body tensing at the sudden exposure.

"Theo, wait," you whisper urgently, glancing around to make sure no one is watching.

"Someone might see!"

But Theo just smirks, his fingers teasing your sensitive flesh. "Let them see. I want them to know that you're mine."

His words are like a spell, and you find yourself surrendering to the sensation, your hips lifting to meet his touch. Theodore positions himself, his hardness pressing against your entrance. His body slipping inside yours with a breathy gasp.

“Fuck theo-” You moan softly as he fills you, your body stretching to accommodate his size.

Theodore leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs,

"That's it, bella. Take all of me. god you feel so good."

His words send a shiver of pleasure through you, and you start to move, your hips rocking against his. Theodore groans, his grip on your hips tightening.

He starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a slow, steady rhythm. You gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you try to muffle your moans. 

the music and laughter fading into the background as you lose yourself to the sensation of Theodore inside you. You cling to him, your body moving with his, meeting each thrust with your own desperate motions.

he groans, his voice low and strained.  "You feel so good. So tight and wet around me."

He groans softly, his fingers digging into your hips as he guides you down further. You moan, your nails raking down his back as you adjust to his size.

"That's it, tesoro," he breathes, his voice strained with desire. "Be a good girl and take all of me. i know you can & i know you want too"

& you do want to. More than anything. But the fear of being caught, the knowledge that anyone could stumble upon you at any moment, only serves to heighten your arousal.

Theodore captures your lips in a kiss. His tongue plunders your mouth, matching the rhythm of your hips. You cling to him, your body arching into his as you lose yourself to the pleasure.

you find yourself moving faster, your body craving release. Theodore meets your every movement , his hands roaming your body with a hunger that matches your own.

As the pleasure builds, you can feel your climax approaching.

”theo-  i - fuckk, feels so good” You bury your face in Theodore's neck, muffling your moans as you teeter on the brink.

"What's the matter, baby?" he murmurs, his voice low and seductive. "Can't handle a little fun in the hot tub?"

He punctuates his words with a particularly deep thrust, his hips rocking against yours in a slow, steady rhythm. You gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you try to muffle your moans.

Theodore chuckles, his breath hot against your ear as he continues to move inside you.

His thrusts are slow and deep, designed to bring you both to the brink of ecstasy without drawing too much attention. His breath coming in short, sharp gasps. your body moving with his, meeting each thrust with your own desperate motions.

“god- I love watching you take me," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. "cum for me. Let me feel you tighten around me."

As Theodore's thrusts grow faster and harder, you feel your own climax building, a coil of tension winding tighter and tighter in your core. Your moans grow louder, your body trembling with the intensity of your pleasure.

Theodore's hand slides between your bodies, his fingers finding your most sensitive spot.

He rubs in tight, circular motions, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly, you cry out, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, your inner walls clenching around Theodore as you ride out your orgasm.

Theodore groans, his hips jerking as he spills himself inside you, his own release triggered by yours. You cling to him, your body shaking with the aftershocks of your climax.

Slowly, you come down from your high, your breathing slowly returning to normal.

You blush, your heart still pounding in your chest. The thrill of what you've just done, the risk you've taken, it's all still sinking in.

Theodore chuckles softly, his hand sliding up your back.

 "Don't worry, Amore. Our little secret."

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and you find yourself melting into his embrace, your body still tingling with the aftershocks of your forbidden tryst.

He nips at your earlobe, his teeth grazing your skin and sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

"But don't think this is over" he continues, his voice low and seductive. "I'm going to want more of you, Dolcezza. Much more."

His hand slides lower, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"In fact," he purrs, his breath hot against your ear "I think I've got a few ideas for how we can spend the rest of the night. Ideas that don't involve a hot tub or an audience."

He pulls back, his dark eyes meeting yours, a promise of pleasure and mischief dancing in their depths.

"What do you say, baby?" he asks, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Let's get out of here, shall we? I've got a few things I want to show you."

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

taglist: @esmerai-artemis @jetblackpayne @broadwaybaby123 @slytherin-baddie @melsunshine @kusakiguzen @westcanaan82

[fcthots]

Rules i think you and Jason would have in your relationship:

- there is no jokes about “if I do this for you, you can just sleep with me to pay me back lol.” He does not find it funny at all and will low key lecture you on how sex is never something you owe him.

- you have a safe word for both sex and every day life. It can just mean you’re serious about something or it means for the other person to stop what they’re doing. Either way, if you feel uncomfortable, use it.

- jokes can only go on for a day max. By jokes I mean like if you told him “yeah that singular cabinet has always been painted pink.” After various vigilante incidents, it’s important that he knows what’s real. And if the other person safewords, you HAVE to come clean.

- you can go to bed angry all you want but you will be sleeping in the same bed. At the very very least, in the same room. This came about after you didn’t sleep in bed after a tough fight. Jason woke up alone in a cold sweat after a nightmare where you died. He couldn’t tell what was real and you walked in on him having a panic attack.

- you have a panic code. For instance if he says “mask?” you have to reply “copy” (I have venom on the brain) to confirm you’re ok and vice versa. You cannot intentionally ignore the code. If the person doesn’t respond in a certain time frame, Jason will show up to your location or you will call another bat to go to his.

- you have to at least cc each other on all decisions made in your living space. You wanna change the couch? All good, but let Jason know (he has weapons stashed everywhere).

- if one of you is in a bad mood, you have a code word to relay it to the other person. It doesn’t have to be the other person you’re mad at, but it just lets you say “hey emotions are running high and I want to punch a wall. I’m not going to take a joke well right now.”

- no making fun of the other person crying. There are extenuating circumstances for when you both cry over stupid movies and such, but as a general principle you can only tease about tears in the context of sex.

- speaking of sex, if one of you degrades the other, you have to tell them you didn’t mean it and do aftercare. You cannot just leave or fall asleep. Aftercare is a must.

[chuluoyi]

✎ rivals... in love?

- gojo satoru x reader

gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?

genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff

note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

No way. There is just no way.

Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.

“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”

With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.

Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!

"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."

And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”

"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.

It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.

…Right?

At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.

And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?

Heh, no one.

(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)

“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”

Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”

Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”

“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”

It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—

“Heh, so what if I am?”

That's the wrong answer.

Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"

“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”

“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”

“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”

By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.

This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...

Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.

Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.

And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.

"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"

You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"

"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."

"Who are you talki—"

"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"

You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.

“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”

"Gojo, I don't have the time—"

"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"

"You're unbeliev—"

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"

"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."

You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."

"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"

He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."

How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.

"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"

At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.

Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"

Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:

"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."

Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.

It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...

Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"

But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."

His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"

"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."

Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?

And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.

Epilogue

In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"

Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."

"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."

"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."

Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"

"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"

-> continue to extended cut !

[itsoutrageouss]

Part four of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley seeing you cry for the first time, due to demand which I am (so) grateful for. Simon’s accidentally a little mean at the wrong time lol- readers on her period.

It’s the second time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that he looses himself into some kind of caretaker instinct.

The last time it had happened, it was after a brutal mission where he’d found you as a crying heap on the floor. So naturally his heart started pounding painfully in his chest when he creaked the door open to your room and saw you curled in bed, sniffling softly.

Once again the vulnerability you showed seemed to hurl him away like a storm. It was such a precious, private side of you and he wanted to go on his knees for you in thanks for allowing him to see it.

He’s by your side with three stalking striders, crouching down next to the bed. His hand hovers over your waist, then your shoulder, then your face because he doesn’t know if he can, or even where he should touch you right now, your shoulders shaking as your head nuzzles into your tear stained pillow.

“Hey. Stop.” He says, voice almost holding a small tremble, laced with panic because as much as he adored this side of you, he wanted you to smile again. Please?

You didn’t respond, only curled further away like an uninterested cat. He frowns and then grabs your neck, gently turning it until you meet his gaze. He wants to gasp at how pretty you look with glistening, red cheeks and glossy eyes, lashes sticking together as you pout at him.

“What is it lovie?” The nickname slips before he knows how to stop it and he winces internally, tensing. But it seems to coax you to nuzzle your face into his hand instead, and he keeps it completely still, scared that a single movement would scare you away. He feels your cold cheek press into his palm, itching to curl his fingers into the soft skin.

“Nothing” you whine.

He huffs. Jesus Christ.

“Nothing, yeah? That’ why you’re crying like a baby?” He smiles, eyes crinkling behind the mask but yours have closed and he sees your face contort into more sadness, more crying and his eyes go wide, immediately holding you a little tighter.

“No! No, shit, sweet’eart it was a joke” he says quickly, voice urgent. You usually took all his teasing with great stride or an even better comeback, but seeing you cry even more because of him made a strange knot form in his throat that he couldn’t seem to swallow down.

You demonstratively turn your back to him on the bed. It was actually insane to him, seeing you like this. You were always sharp, focused, witty; slapping Johnny and Simon on the arm when they start bantering too much on the way to a mission.

He was sort of addicted to it, he thought, as even your back turning made something warm flutter in his stomach as he reached for your shoulder, entire hand able to envelop it and tug gently.

“M’ sorry? M’ sorry just… talk to me.” Silence ensues.

“Please.” The word falls unnaturally from his lips.

It seems to be the keyword because your head turns painfully slow until you blink up at him, now with a slight scowl.

“It hurts” you whisper, bottom lip jutting out. He immediately pulls your cover down to your thigh to start looking you over for injuries but your cold hands tug his wrist and puts his palms over your lower stomach. He blinks.

“You pregnant?” He blurts.

Your eyes widen and he swears he sees a hint of a smile and triumph floods his system. “No you idiot! I’m on my period. Cramps!” You say with a shake of your head, eyes closing for a beat.

He was a bloody idiot to be fair. A lot of things from today seemed to click for him when you said that, and his shoulders relax, head tilting as his eyes narrow, framed by the black mask. His hands on your stomach fan out, thumbs stroking the skin under your shirt. He feels your muscles tighten at his touch.

“Sensitive?” He muses.

“Shut it” you mumble, looking away and trying not to let the enjoyment of his touch show too much, but your eyes flutter closed and he could practically hear you purring. But he doesn’t say anything, once again afraid he’ll ruin this little bubble that you’ve let him be a part of, for reasons he doesn’t understand.

After long minutes of comfortable silence, his hands running over the expanse of your stomach, caressing and massaging softly, he sees your lips part in soft breaths. Slowly and lingering, his hands retreat so he doesn’t do anything stupid. But you whine, immediately noticing the lack of his touch, even in your half asleep state, grabbing for him. His jaw flexes as he tried not to smile.

“M’ gonna run you a bath, lovie. I’ll be right back.” He promised, suddenly turning into some kind of caretaker role he never thought he wanted to be. Until you came along and now he finds himself wanting to do all kinds of things for you, after seeing how you reacted to his touch. The scrunch of your brows when he tells you he’ll run you a bath gives him a high he can ride for days.

He’s just trying to repay how sweetly you bandaged his hands weeks ago. To repay how you played along to his little story at the last mission about how you and him had met.

Trying to repay these insatiable and foreign feelings you brought forth in him, so you wouldn’t take them away. Ever.

Now maybe he just had to actually tell you about them? No. No way. The thought was forced from his mind immediately.

series masterlist

[street-smarts00]

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Your first Christmas with Spencer and you get his name for secret Santa. 

WC: 1.8k

Tags: Fluff, Secret Santa, friends to lovers, one use of Y/N I think A/N: Sorry I went MIA :( I got busy with school. I hope to push out many ideas while I’m on break tho. Here’s something cheesy and festive for the holiday season I hope you enjoy! (not beta read don't kill me)

Nothing was right. Nothing you found was the right present. 

This was your first secret Santa with the BAU and you picked Spencer's name out of penelope’s mug. At first you thought it would be easy to buy a present for him because you knew him so well. In almost a year of being with the BAU you grew the closest with Spencer. 

What you didn’t expect was your present ideas to not live up to your own expectations. Nothing you came up with could live up to your own standards. Of course your “slight” feelings for him definitely affected this, but you tried to tell yourself that wasn’t true. 

You ran through dozens of ideas. Clothing, a new scarf, tickets for a play, special edition of a book he loved. But nothing felt like the right present. 

You almost gave up in your search for the perfect present for him. The gift exchange was in less than a week and you still had nothing. Sitting at your desk in the bullpen you considered settling with one of your first ideas. 

While getting up to refill your coffee mug you noticed Spencer’s attention was focused on his computer. He sat there deep in thought with his brows furrowed and lips in a fine line. When you walked by his desk you saw he was playing an online chess game. 

“Working hard or hardly working?” you joked. 

He popped out of his focus from your presence. “I finished my files a little early,” he responded bashfully. 

“Are you at least winning?” 

He smirked, “I’ve won four times. But that’s not even the fun part. The fun is doing different plays every time and seeing what the computer comes up with as the best response.” 

That’s when it hit you. An idea for Spencer’s gift. 

Finally something that felt like a good gift for him. At the end of the day you rushed out of work to go to the craft store and get your supplies. You worked on the gift everyday after work. 

Soon the weekend rolled around and you found yourself at Rossi’s. His living room had the biggest Christmas tree you’d ever seen. Everyone’s gifts sat there for the evening. After dinner you all sat down to exchange gifts. 

“I want to go first!” Garcia exclaimed. She jumped up from the couch and hurried to the tree to grab her gift for JJ. 

JJ excitedly opened the gift bag to find a small black and grey purse with a colorful crochet keychain. The idea that Garcia also handmade part of her gift gave you a sense of relief. 

“Oh this is so pretty. Thank you so much,” she beamed, admiring the bag and twirling the keychain. Garcia squealed in happiness before JJ offered a hug to her. 

JJ then handed over her gift to Rossi, a bottle of scotch. He smiled and thanked her for the bottle saying how his collection needed a new addition. 

He stood up and brought his hands together looking at the tree. “My turn.” He grabbed a thin box wrapped in silver sparkly wrapping paper and walked over to you. 

“For you, my dear,” he handed you the box. 

Your eyes widened and lips perked up at the gift. It may be a little silly but, part of you wished that you were Spencer’s secret santa. You reminded yourself that the possibility of you both picking each other's names was unlikely. The possibility of some things being the same between the two of you was … unlikely. 

You ripped back the paper to reveal a large eyeshadow pallet. Upon opening it, you saw an array of beautiful shades you couldn’t wait to try out. 

“Rossi, this is so sweet. I love it,” You thanked with a bright smile. 

Now it was your turn. Everyone’s eyes only made the moment more stressful. You got up and grabbed the box with a nervous hand. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was too cheesy or corny? What if he thought it was useless as he already owned two of them?

You tried to quiet your thoughts as you handed him the box, but they had no intention of leaving.

“Merry Christmas Spence,” you said softly.

When you turned and walked back to your seat you neglected to see the rising blush on his face. 

Spencer glanced down at the white and red striped paper. He carefully peeled it off and opened the lid to reveal a chess set nestled in between red tissue paper. The board spaces were off-white and royal purple with corresponding chess pieces the same colors. When he picked up the wooden pieces and saw small leaves and flowers painted on them. The King and Queen specifically had crowns in a shimmering gold. 

“Wow look at that,” Emily admired.

Upon further inspection he noticed the small human imperfections in the details. The way not one leaf or flower looked exactly the same. Or how the clear coating over the paint was slightly streaky in some spots. 

“Did you paint this?” He asked.

You nodded your head and answered , “Yeah I did.” 

A faint “awe” could be heard across the room from Garcia. 

“Y/N,” Spencer started, his voice full of admiration. “This is … beautiful.” 

The butterflies in your stomach were getting restless. 

“Really?” you asked, not able to hide the smile spreading on your face. 

“Yes! It’s Perfect,” his eyes sparkled at you. “I love it. Nobody’s ever given me something like this.” He beamed at you with a smile that made you love sick. 

The realization that you both were not alone set in and Spencer cleared his throat before closing the box. The gift exchange continued as Spencer handed over a present to Morgan. 

The rest of the night was filled with catching glances and far away looks between you and Spencer. He seemed to feel more relaxed in a way after receiving your gift. Not that he was acting any differently. He just seemed more open. With the group and with you. 

You lived off that feeling the whole evening. The idea that you made him happy. You helped him see he was appreciated and loved. 

Not that he had to know you loved him. 

He didn’t know that. Right? 

As the hands on the clock passed you announced your departure and said your goodbyes. You stepped outside and felt a chill against your skin. 

You held tight onto your keys as you walked to your car. The snow had just started to fall. Occasional little flurries fell down from the sky. 

“Wait!” Someone yelled from behind. 

You turned to find Spencer trying his best to run but not slip on the icy parts of the driveway. When he got closer you noticed his cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink. Probably from the cold weather you thought.

“I wanted to formally say thank you for the chess set,” he explained. 

“You’re welcome,” you replied with a smile. You stuffed your hands in your pockets away from the cold. “I’m glad you like it. I was worried you’d find it cheesy.” 

He looked confused. “Why would I find it cheesy?” 

You shrugged, “because I hand painted it.”

“But that’s what makes it perfect,” he reassured. His voice is sincere and soft. “It’s personal and shows you care.”

His eyes widened. “Oh um-“ 

He suddenly remembered why he rushed outside and scrambled for something in his jacket pocket. It was a small cube shaped box wrapped in paper covered in snowflakes. Quite fitting for the weather.

“I know I technically wasn’t your secret Santa but I still wanted to get you something.”

You took the gift from him with a slack jaw. “Spence-“

“This isn’t because you were my secret Santa. I still wanted to get you a gift regardless,” he reassured. 

“I- Thank you,” you started unwrapping the gift. 

“It’s not homemade like yours but I hope you still like it.”

”It doesn’t have to be homemade for me to-“ the wind was stolen out of your lungs.  

The gift was a small gold and white music box you immediately recognized. You opened the lid to reveal a ballerina in a pink tutu spinning as Sleeping Beauty Waltz played. Your heart ached as you admired the tiny dancer.

”Is this the music box from that antique shop in Seattle?” 

While on a case in Seattle, you and Spencer went to an antique shop to ask the owner about evidence found at the crime scene that was purchased there. You fell in love with a beautiful music box in one of the aisles. 

“It is. I saw how you looked at it in the store and in the car you said it reminded you of when you used to do ballet. So before we left Seattle I went back to the store to get it for you. I thought it would make a great Christmas present.”

“But, that was three months ago.”

He sheepishly smiled and his cheeks only got more red. “Yeah, I had to keep it a secret for a while.”

Your heart rate started to pick up as the butterflies returned. “I can't believe you went back and bought this for me,” you muttered in disbelief. 

“Of course I would. You mean a lot to me and I knew this was something that would make you happy.” 

You admired the music box before carefully placing it in your purse. “Thank you so much. I love it.” 

His smile grew and reached his eyes. His eyes looked beautiful in this lighting. The Christmas lights from the house made them look practically golden. Even in the freezing cold you could melt from his eyes.

He shifted his weight and licked his lips. He seemed wrapped around the words in his head. “I also wanted to ask if maybe you’d want to go see The Nutcracker with me.” 

Your heart damn near stopped. 

“It’s playing at the theater downtown. I was thinking if we don’t get a case then we could go see the show on Friday. Maybe, if you want to, that is,” he rambled in nervousness. 

“I’d love to,” you beamed. 

His face brightened at your eagerness, but his nerves were still present. “But not as friends. As a date?” 

You chuckled, “Yes Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. I think the nutcracker is a perfect first date.”

“Great,” he said with relief. “And maybe afterwards we might have time for a game of chess with my new board.” 

God he was cute. 

“That sounds great.”

[plethorawrites]

I’m kinda curious as to how the batboys would react with a partner that randomly compliments them (like really sweet and sappy things too, “you’re so pretty, I love how smart your are, you’re perfect,” etc.) + refers to them as Boyfriend, no name, just Boyfriend

Like the reader would be all “hey! This is Boyfriend,” while holding onto him.

Ahhh, I love this concept!! (I only did part of it, but please let me know if you want the other part!)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Bruce: Would be very confused at first because he's always used to his partners introducing him as Bruce Wayne. And he always knew they did it so people realized their partner was dating a billionaire. He'd expect it from you, like with everyone, but then you simply introduced him as your boyfriend. Alright, that was strange. He assumed it was because it was just your coworkers he met and you didn't care much what they thought. Then it happened with your friends and your parents and each time you introduced him to someone, not as Bruce Wayne the billionaire, but simply your boyfriend, he felt his heart clench a little. His wealth or status hadn't won your heart, he had.

---

Dick: When you don't introduce him by his name the first time he meets your friends, he says nothing about it. He assumes it was a one off. But no. You kept calling him that, barely saying his name at all, if ever. It was always "Oh, my boyfriend likes that restaurant too!" And "Actually, my boyfriend has an early day tomorrow, we'll pass." He soon realized it was your own subtle jealousy showing. You called him your boyfriend every chance you got because you didn't want a single one of your friends looking at him for too long, let alone any strangers getting the idea they had a chance. He was a bit proud, honestly. He found it adorable how you'd drag his arm around his waist to emphasize your point.

---

Jason: He feared love more than anything. It terrified him to give his heart to someone when it felt so fragile he thought if it broke one more time he'd die for good. But then he gave it to you. He still felt hesitant and you knew that. Which is why you would call him your boyfriend every chance you got. You wanted him to know how much you liked people knowing who he was to you. He realized quickly that you did it for his benefit but couldn't bring himself to ask you to stop. He really liked having you say it and it made him a bit more confident in your love for him each time he realized you weren't ashamed of him.

---

Tim: You do it to tease him, but he never responded in the right way whenever you did. He'd lean in as well and start referring to you only as his girlfriend/boyfriend/partner just so it was fair. He rather enjoyed the way it sounded when you called him that. He still couldn't believe you'd actually put up with him, so hearing you state so proudly that he was your boyfriend made him elated. How would it not? He knew you meant it as a dramatic, over the top joke, but he loved hearing it anyway. So much so that you both eventually stopped with the theatrics and began using it sincerely.

---

(Aged up) Damian: He's a proud man, typically. With an ego far taller than him. You called him your boyfriend once before you started dating and he lost it, angry that you didn't give him the chance to ask you to be his girlfriend properly before you began using those labels. Then, you'd use it to annoy him at first. Never saying his name when you introduced him to your friends or family bugged him and you knew it, but you slowly came to enjoy it for reasons other than his frustration. He had to admit, he learned to like it after a while, too. You

[onlygarden]

[daddy's cock is all you need!] - lee heeseung, sim jaeyun

genre: smut

description: daddy kink, rough sex, dom heeseung, dom jake, stomach bulges, some harsh words but not quite degredation

a/n: it is almost five fucking a.m. but. i got smacked by the inspo to write this and how could i ever pass up the opportunity to write about getting pounded down. it was sudden inspo to write jake's, but i had previously written part of heeseung's, so i decided to finish it and combine the both of them in one post : D i hope u all enjoy it, took jungwon's cock out of my mouth just so i could write this

HEESEUNG ⟢ heeseung was thoroughly peeved when you found yourself drunk earlier in the evening. by any normal means, he found your silly drunken antics hilariously endearing, but there was a striking difference in you tonight. he brought you along to enjoy a meal with him and the other members, but the amount of alcohol you decided to gulp down mindlessly quickly began to show itself. the giggles that normally tickled all of his senses only grated sickeningly on his nerves; your loud banter and outlandish jokes continued to earn you admirous gazes from the other members, and heeseung’s tolerance scurried from his body before he could even attempt to gather his composure. 

the tension was immobilizing during the car ride home, and your feeble attempt to appease his temper even a fraction announced itself with a — “heeseung, i…” — and was quickly met and destroyed with an unyielding “shut the fuck up.”

his hand against the back of your head forced you to bury your face into the mattress, your desperate pants and stuttered moans hardly suppressed, and the sheets beneath you flooded with a steady stream of pitiful drool spilling from your mouth. heeseung was lodged inside of you, plunging into rapidly, and the lavish squelches of your pussy warred with the sharp slaps of his pelvis against the plump flesh of your behind as both sounds mingled in the room.

the fury traveling rampant in his body made no stranger of itself, and his hand tightening carelessly in your hair as he rammed his cock furiously along the spongy patch of your pussy did nothing to disprove it. 

“you’re mine… you’re all mine, fuck baby…say it…” he demanded roughly, his hand yanking your head a few inches away from the bed as his grasp tightened to an alarmingly painful degree in your hair. 

in a miracle that you even manage to utter a syllable as heeseung bullies your wimpy, defenseless pussy uninhibitedly, a hardly spoken whine of “y-yours, hee!” tumbles from your lips. 

he raises his hand, smacking your ass with the utmost intention of leaving a harsh welt, he responds with a grunted, “what do you call me, sweet girl?” the pleasant description of you leaving his lips in such a condescending manner, it sounds more like he’s insulting you. 

“daddy! oh god, daddy!” 

a chuckle dances from his lips, a breathy moan quickly following, as he feels every fiber of himself completely enveloped by your sweet silk. 

“mmm… fuck, that’s right, baby,” his hand rains down on your ass as three swift spanks follow one after the other. 

“you’re sucking daddy’s cock in so good…” his delicious grunts only increased in volume as he reduced your body to pleasured mush. 

JAKE ⟢  “you’re dripping for daddy, aren’t you?” 

jake utters cruelly, the sentence leaving his lips as though it didn’t send another surge of arousal slopping out of you, forcing past the pathetic material of your thong. 

his fingers crawl deviously underneath the waistband of your thong, dragging the flooded mess of material down the trail of your legs. 

as a shiver racks gently through your body, a satiated smirk decorates your boyfriend’s face. 

“mhm, yea… you are. you’re so fucking…” he trails off as he sinks hurriedly into your warmth, the plush skin of your thighs pillowing around the unforgiving grip of his fingers. any other words he had for you would be proven in the way he fucks you, he thinks. 

his aching, hungry cock tears through you, splitting you open in a demonstration of pure, unquenchable need. he destroys your pitiful little pussy without a single fragment of hesitation in his mind. he’s taking care of you, the conditions of his ownership making themselves known with each movement of his hips, each peek of his cock under the flesh of your stomach. 

as the tears begin to crawl down your face, and his name begins to fall from your lips in a series of helpless whimpers, jake coos, squeezing your thighs harder as though he was comforting you, his eyes locked stubbornly onto yours. 

“it’s a lot, huh, baby? just keep taking it… yea, baby… just like that…”

the pleasure piles on rapidly, profusely, your stomach ignited until his cock is threatening to shatter each of your senses. you tap his shoulder insistently, urging him to pause, just for a moment. 

god, he’s not going to stop. how could he even muster a single intention of stopping, when he’s already so wrapped up in the indescribable ecstasy of your lustrously slush pussy...

“no, baby,” he starts, his voice husky and hushed. “i’m gonna fuck you how i want, and you’re gonna keep squeezing me, just like this…” 

as though he were intending to jeer at you for even suggesting something as repulsive as stopping, he marginally increases the pressure of his thrusts, the dizzying thumpthumpthump of his cock inside of you causing your whimpers to transform into tortured cries.

“d-daddy, please!”

you force a pathetic response out in a hurry, feeling like you have to speak quickly, otherwise your words would run silent due to the force of jake pounding into you and snatching the breath from your lungs.

jake only leans closer to you, his weight adding pressure to your body, pressing you more forcefully against the bed. “uh-uh, baby… good girls keep going when their daddy wants it…” he utters, his voice so deliciously gruff. 

the only thing your body manages to do is lie there and allow him to pursue his conquest of obliterating you, your throat tossing out whiny cries and squeals with each swift passing of his cock through your mushy insides. 

[sonicboomseason3]

a brief recap of what has been going on with the sonic movieverse in the past several months:

paramount has come out in public support of israel

keanu reeves, a man who has publicly rubbed elbows with none other than benjamin netanyahu, reportedly gets cast as shadow for the upcoming third movie

james marsden, the guy who plays tom, got exposed as having written a letter of support for a convicted pedophile

there's fucking??? zionist propaganda in the knuckles series???

kind of connected to the last point but adam pally, the guy who plays wade, is evidently pro-israel too

this is a complete and utter joke.

EDIT AS OF 4/30/24: if people see this version of the post, i'd really appreciate it if you reblog it instead of the other versions, as it's the most updated one with all the information that i want included. thank you :]

you know, it's been a few days since i've made this post, and some of you (not most) are staying determined in defending/justifying/giving the benefit of the doubt to keanu for that photo with netanyahu, whether it's because "it was a decade ago," "him being civil to someone he ran into at a party one time doesn't mean anything," "he's probably just silent because his pr managers won't allow him to speak up," etc. i've made my thoughts on the matter quite clear by directly responding to these people, but at this point, i'm tired of both seeing them in my notes and repeating myself, so take this as my final word on the issue.

i can't help it if you don't think the photo with netanyahu is damning, and i'm done engaging with everyone going out of their way to tell me that. i obviously disagree, especially after finding out that 1. the host of the party, arnon milchan, is a former israeli spy who has a history of developing israel's nuclear program and promoting apartheid in south africa (information that had broken out a few months prior to the party and thus would've been fresh news around the time keanu chose to attend) and 2. keanu has been caught hanging around at least two other weirdos, but if you don't find any of that to be cause for reasonable concern, then there really is nothing else i can say afaik.

with all that said, i'm beginning to realize how strange it is that these people's first instinct when seeing this post is to start debating about keanu's political stances without ever acknowledging any of the other bullet points. you guys realize that this isn't just about him, right? i know tumblr reading comprehension is known for being piss-poor, but like… you realize that i was trying to make a point of how there are MULTIPLE terrible things that have broken out about the people and company involved in the sonic movies, right? and yet, a lot of the people leaping to speak on keanu's behalf in my notes are completely ignoring the parts where i bring up paramount, pally, etc. all in favor of zeroing in on the singular point about keanu and making bad faith assumptions about me for holding him accountable. really makes one wonder where your priorities lie if, in a post that talks about so many other things, me accusing an a-list celebrity with, according to google, a net worth of almost $400 million is where you draw the line and apparently the only thing worth your acknowledgment.

ultimately, what i'm trying to say is that the intention of this post was just to gather up everything that i had been hearing for the past several months and put it all together in one place. there were a bunch of people who didn't know about at least one of the bullet points before seeing this post, and i'm glad that i could help inform them, that was what i was hoping to do! but as for the keanu thing, i've said pretty much all i can say for now, and i don't want to derail the original post even more than i may have already. unless something new comes up, i'm done talking about him.