#and will run into the bedroom and immediately run back out to stare us down when we arent right behind her

[richeeduvie]

If we’re living in perfect madman world and Lalo and Princesa are happy and pregnant at the hacienda with cockblocked nacho, I can see Lalo getting super warm and blood thirsty when he sees nachos growing silent love for Princesa- there’s like a week straight of headboard banging banshee screaming sex coming from the master bedroom that nacho is forced to bear (and that Lalo did just for nacho to hear and be jealous) ; nacho has his foot in his mouth and clumsily tries to tell Princesa to keep it down during sex and she’s immediately sad and embarrassed and withdrawn

It’s on sight for nacho when Lalo finds out why princesa is quiet and doesn’t want to have sex every night anymore

Lalo is such an asshole lmao.

"I need to talk to you."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You and...you and..."

Princesa's staring at Nacho. Nacho closes his eyes, it's a visual sigh. But he manages to keep eye contact with her.

"You and Lalo are loud."

Princesa's heart feels like death. She thinks she's dying. She thinks it's stupid that she feels like she's dying, but she can barely think anything else. It's pure embarrassment on her cheeks.

"Oh. I'm sorry-"

"It's fine. Just...the house can hear you. Or at least I can."

She's immediate in her scratching of her knee. Nacho actually sighs.

"Stop. It's not...it's not a big deal, these things happen. I just thought you should know about that type of thing."

"Okay. I'll keep it down at night. I'm sorry."

"Not just at night."

Princesa stills. Freezes.

"I'll be right back."

She will not. She'll try not to cry in the bathroom for the next ten minutes. Then she'll watch TV while knitting to calm her down. Nacho will be cursing at himself in his room. All good. All good until Lalo comes home...until the night comes along and he wants to hear her.

"What's wrong?"

He's inside Princesa, and he can tell she's trying to keep herself silent. He kisses her cheek, the only thing he can do cause she won't look at him.

"Nothing."

She moans softly. Lalo's hand squeeze her cheeks. She's forced to look into his eyes of coal.

Her hands run through his hair.

"What's wrong?"

It's asked as simply as the first time.

"I didn't know how loud I was being."

"...What do you mean?"

"People in the house can hear us."

"...Who?"

"Lalo. It's just--I didn't know I was so loud."

Lalo's not blinking, he just rubs Princesa's breast. He tilts his head.

"Who told you you were being loud?" He taps her lips when he finally removes his hand from her cheeks. "Was it Nacho?"

"...He just mentioned it-"

"Why is he talking about that kind of thing with you?"

"What thing?"

Lalo scoffs. He slips his cock out of Princesa. "Talking about sex with you. He knows to ignore. What the hell is he doing? Talking to you about how loud you're being. That's-"

He's asking like he didn't want Nacho annoyed in the first place.

He kisses Princesa's cheek before leaving.

"Lalo, where are you goin-"

He shuts the door, pants on. Today was one of the days he went commando, as the Americans say.

He slams Nacho's door open. Nacho's shirtless. So is he. He may or may not still have his cock hard.

"Nacho. You like making girls insecure? You like making her insecure?"

"I don't-"

"Keep your mouth shut when you hear things, alright? It's my house. You're a tough guy...you can deal with it, eh?"

Nacho doesn't say anything. His eyes flicker up and down. Lalo scoffs again.

"Maybe you're not as tough as I thought you were."

[lizziesangel]

thinking of reader wearing her glasses around rafe for the first time

SUMMARY: based on this request

it was the perfect kind of evening—warm, cozy, and full of comfort. rafe’s bedroom was dimly lit, the only light coming from the tv as it flickered with previews for the movie you were about to watch. you snuggled up on the couch, a blanket draped over both of you, the scent of freshly popped popcorn filling the air. it was the kind of night you had been looking forward to all week.

you were sitting cross-legged on his soft bed, nervously clutching a bowl of popcorn as the opening credits of the movie start rolling. your heart flutters when rafe plops down next to you, his broad shoulders brushing against yours. it’s been about a month since you started dating, and although he’s been nothing but sweet to you, there’s still a shy part of you that’s worried about how he sees you—especially tonight.

your vision had been getting worse lately, and the need for glasses had become more pressing. you were determined not to let it ruin the night, but as the movie started, your eyes began to strain. you only really needed them for things like driving or watching tv, but the idea of wearing them in front of Rafe made you self-conscious. what if they made you look… goofy?

rafe noticed immediately. he always did. "you good, princess?" he asked, his voice laced with concern, glancing over at you from the corner of his eye.

“yeah,” you reply quickly, but he doesn’t seem convinced. you didn’t want to admit that your eyes weren’t as sharp as they used to be. but the discomfort was becoming too much.

during the beginning of the movie, the words on the screen are a blur, and you know there’s no getting around it. slowly, you reach into your bag, pulling out the slim case that holds your glasses. you hesitate, stealing a glance at rafe, who’s too focused on the screen to notice.

you didn’t want rafe to think you were less than perfect.

with a quiet breath, you slip the glasses on.

“okay, better,” you mutter under your breath, settling back into the couch.

but suddenly, the room feels quieter. you turn to find rafe staring at you, the movie forgotten. his blue eyes are wide, and his lips part as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out.

your stomach flips. “what?” you ask, adjusting the glasses nervously.

he blinks, then runs a hand through his hair, a crooked grin spreading across his face. “nothing, i just… damn.”

“damn?” you repeat, your voice unsure.

“you look so cute,” he says, the words tumbling out as if he can’t help himself. he leans in closer, his gaze flickering over your face. “like, really, really cute. the glasses suit you.”

your cheeks heat up instantly. “stop,” you mumble, covering your face with your hands.

he gently pulls your hands away, holding them in his own. “i’m serious, though. i’m mad you didn’t tell me you’d look this adorable. it’s not fair.”

you roll your eyes, but a laugh escapes you, the tension melting away. “you’re ridiculous.”

“ridiculously into you,” he counters without missing a beat. then he leans back, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you closer. “now, come on, we’ve got a movie to watch. but don’t blame me if i can’t concentrate.”

“you look,” he repeated, his voice now softer, almost in awe, “so freaking cute."

your face flushed deeper. “rafe, stop,” you muttered, trying to hide behind your hands.`

he shook his head in disbelief, staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “i swear,” he chuckled, “you’re like a total vision in those.” he scooted closer, giving you a playful nudge.

“i didn’t think you could get any cuter. but here we are.”

and just like that, the movie plays on—but all you can think about is the way he keeps sneaking glances at you, the soft smile on his face proving just how smitten he really is.

MASTERLIST

[lovebugism]

i feel like eddie doesn’t seem himself as “hot” but obviously you do. you’re on your way to a pool party and steve’s and he walks out in just swim trunks asking if he looks okay (they were thrifted and he’s just making sure they fit correctly okay 🥹). y’all barely even make it to steve’s because you can’t get over how GOOD this man looks.

you're so real for this anon. ty for requesting :D — the one where eddie munson has no idea how pretty he is (established relationship, hurt/comfort, cw for mentions of body insecurity and allusions to smut 18+ | 1.1k)

Eddie stands in the corner of your bedroom, before the full-length mirror propped against the wall, and pokes himself once in the stomach. The pale, pudgy skin there dips under his pointer finger before bouncing back in place. He can’t stop looking at his tummy, which sits just barely over the hem of his swim trunks. 

It’s hardly noticeable. Nothing anyone else would bother looking twice at. But to him, it’s so distressingly obvious that the sight alone makes his chest ache.

“Do these look okay?” Eddie mumbles absentmindedly, not looking back at you as he runs his ringed fingers under the elastic edge of the plain black shorts. The gesture is obviously an anxious one — like, if he does it enough times, maybe he can stretch it out a bit. (It hasn’t quite worked for him yet.)

Your silence is palpable and hardly encouraging. 

Eddie looks at you over his shoulder, deep brown eyes glimmering with melted chocolate and distant worry, half-hidden behind his wild curls. He finds you lying in the middle of your bed — with your head in your palms and your feet kicked up behind you — staring right at him.

Your eyes meet. You blink hard, face burning as your glazed-over gaze regains its life once more. “Hm?” you hum, then clear your throat.

Eddie’s lips quirk faintly upward. A mere flicker of a smile at your coyness. “I asked if these looked okay.”

You look him up and down to admire his form, (which you’d been doing the entire time, in truth, only now you’ve got the go-ahead for your unabashed leering.) 

Your boy is a tower of milky white quartz — full of lanky limbs, fading tattoos, and dustings of sparse hair. As far as you’re concerned, Eddie Munson was carved by Michaelangelo himself. A hand-crafted sculpture lost to time who somehow wormed his way into your heart and Forest Hills trailer park alike. 

Your eyes trail from his pretty face, to his long neck, to the black widow tattooed on his collarbone. They land finally on the happy trail below his belly button that disappears into his swim shorts. 

Your breath catches in your throat. You swallow hard and try to come up with something to say as your brain short-circuits.

“Yeah. Yeah, they look— they look great, Eds,” you stammer, rising from your lounged position on the bed to sit along the edge of it. You squeeze your thighs together when a dull throbbing settles suddenly between them. “Do they fit okay?”

Eddie, unaware of your blossoming desire, turns away. He looks back at his reflection, and his eyes fall immediately to his stomach. He runs his pointer fingers under the hem of the shorts and pretends it does something. Though, it doesn’t change how much of his torso is on display just now. Or how pale his lanky legs are after being hidden all summer season.

“I think so,” he murmurs with an unconvincing waver to his voice. He shifts his weight on his bare feet and caves. “I don’t know— I think I’m just gonna change.” 

You rise from the squeaking mattress. The oversized tee you’re using as a makeshift cover-up floods your smaller form. You catch the boy’s wrist before he can reach for the clothes he left in a pile on your floor. 

“You promised you weren’t gonna wear jeans!” you protest in a playful whine.

Eddie meets your pout with a more exaggerated one — brows twisted, nose scrunched, mouth snarled.  “I know, but I hate these,” he says with a louder whine.

“I don’t want you to get heat stroke and die,” you confess, mousy and obviously sarcastic, as you fall into the boy’s bare chest. 

You wrap both arms around his waist and rest your chin on his sternum, blinking up at him with pretty, glittering eyes. You can smell the floral shampoo in his hair from here, and the musky cologne on his neck you bought for him last Christmas.

Eddie cups your cheeks with softly calloused palms. “Good to know,” he quips with a lopsided smile that he then kisses you with. The crooked grin tastes faintly of nicotine and boy — a nostalgic feeling more than a real flavor.

“I’m serious, Eds,” you tell him with a stern glint in your eyes, chin bobbing against his chest with every word. “They look great on you, okay? Cross my heart.”

His chest sparkles at the compliment. Warms so much it starts to hurt all over again. 

And it’s not that he thinks you’re lying, he just wishes he believed you more. Or that he could see himself through your eyes or something. They always get so squishy around the edges when you look at him — with an adoration he doesn’t know he deserves.

“You’d tell me if I look like an idiot, though, right?” he wonders, half-joking.

“I tell you you look like an idiot all the time,” you deadpan, equally half-joking.

That gets a laugh out of him. “Fair enough,” the boy nods with a quiet chuckle.

“But I like these. Seriously. You should wear them,” you advise firmly and step back from him. Eddie mourns the warmth of your body when only your hands reach out to touch him. “And you can blame them for making us late…”

Eddie’s brows furrow at the mischievous lilt in your voice. “We don’t have to be at Steve’s for another, like, fifteen minutes,” he insists with a breathy laugh that gets caught in his throat when your hand dips under the hem of his swim trunks. “Oh?” he hums with a crooked smile.

You nod with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. The fuzzy hair of his happy trail tickles the soft skin of your fingertips. His skin is soft and warm and inviting. Your hand starts to ache with the longing to feel him completely.

Eddie forgets how to breathe when you cup his stiffening cock in your supple palm. His eyes go heavy as his pink mouth falls softly agape. “Oh…” he repeats, deeper and more far away this time.

You grin in the face of his distant pleasure, which you seem to give him with little effort now (like a total fucking minx.) Eddie’s chest twists at the roguish twinkle in your eye. He knows he’s surely in for it now, but he doesn’t mind it. He yearns for it, really.

He only hopes that Steve won’t mind either — when the two of you show up at his place a half hour or more late, mussed with an obvious pleasure and reeking of it just the same.

[plethorawrites]

Can you please write headcanons for other batboys+ Bruce when they turned into a cat like you did for Jason? Thank you ❤️

Absolutely!!! (This is a long one, so settle in!)

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

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who was attacked by some crazy scientist trying to create mutant animals but instead changed him into a Lynx with giant ears and massive paws.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who, of course, attempted to micromanage everyone as they tried to help him— walking over the batcomputer and messing up Tim's research, sitting on top on the batmobile when one of the kids tried to take it, knocking things off whatever table he perched on while still trying to feel tall.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who Alfred tried to calm down but ended up antagonizing further until he started meowing so loudly for so long they were all sick of him.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who Jason had to carry upstairs since he was the only one big enough to wrap his arms around Bruce, throwing him in his bedroom while he protested (but refused to use his claws) and locking the door.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who paced back and forth until he heard the door open and saw you walk in, having already been told what was happening, and immediately grumbled, hiding under the bed so you wouldn't have to see him.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who watched you lay on the floor, staring at him, telling him it was alright and they would figure it out, until he eventually became comfortable enough to come out and sit in front of you, staring at the floor in protest.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who ears perked up the second he felt your hands run through his fur, petting him and wrapping your arms around him, kissing the top of his head.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who had to eat deer for dinner and hated it, but was starving so he finished the whole bowl Alfred gave him, still humiliated, even if he was fed with a porcelain bowl.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who tried sleeping at the foot of your shared bed, curled up in a tight ball, but couldn't get away with it because you hauled him back to the top of the bed, clearly struggling to lift his weight.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who was hesitant but eventually stretched out, reaching nearly four feet from the tips of his tall ears to the bottom of his paws.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who let you wrap your arms around his enormous size, scratching his ears while he yawned, bearing his sharp teeth that would terrify nearly anyone except for you.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who purred like a regular cat, even if he had paws bigger than most dogs did, and used them to knead on the mattress while you cuddled him.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who licked your face, his tongue tougher than sandpaper and immediately stopped purring, feeling ashamed of himself until you began laughing and kissing his head and cheek again, finding it funny even if it hurt a bit.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who went back to purring the second he knew you weren't upset or mocking him for his unusual state, and kept doing so until he fell asleep with you holding him.

Cat Bruce Wayne: Who woke up the next morning with his head pressed against your stomach, and his arms wrapped around your waist and immediately nuzzled your warm skin, grateful to be back to his regular self, even if his kids would give him hell at breakfast.

---

Cat Dick Grayson: Who got turned into a sleek, blue eyed, Siamese cat when one of Raven's spells went wrong and panicked at first when she said she didn't know how to turn him back.

Cat Dick Grayson: Who was incredibly vocal, meowing at his entire team before realizing they couldn't understand anything he said and he wandered off to find you instead because he knew he was utterly useless to them.

Cat Dick Grayson: Who you immediately recognized as him when he showed up at your door, pawing it until you opened it and ran inside, rubbing his head against a picture of the two of you on the kitchen counter.

Cat Dick Grayson: Who was grateful when you didn't seem freaked out about him being a cat and trusted you to take care of him for the time being.

Cat Dick Grayson: Who had no shame when it came to sitting on your lap, or brushing his head against your legs while weaving in and out of them and following you everywhere you go.

Cat Dick Grayson: Who actually found himself enjoying how agile he could be and how stretchy his vertebrae suddenly was, giving him even more flexibility than he was used to.

Cat Dick Grayson: Who pawed at the television every time an ad for a cat toy at PetSmart came up until you caved and bought a laser pointer and electric mouse so he could hunt to keep entertained since there wasn't much to do as a cat.

Cat Dick Grayson: Who chose to perch on your shoulder, even though it was inconvenient for you, because he missed being tall and liked the challenge of balancing on you.

Cat Dick Grayson: Who missed being able to tell you how beautiful you are without his voice coming out a dry croak of appreciation for you, and wanted to hold you instead of having you hold him, but couldn't, so he'd settled for curling up next to you on the couch and in bed, pressing his cold nose to your cheek.

Cat Dick Grayson: Who you're petting while you lay on the couch, watching a movie when you suddenly feel his fur turn back into his soft, slightly wavy hair and look down to his head in your lap.

Cat Dick Grayson: Who sits up and stretches, making his muscles ache before he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a laying position while you finish the movie.

Cat Dick Grayson: Who can't decide while nuzzling your neck that night, if he wants to chew Raven out or thank her.

---

Cat Tim Drake: Who was messing around with an ancient artifact getting cataloged in the batcave when he accidentally turned himself into a slim Abyssinian cat with a long tail.

Cat Tim Drake: Who refused to give his family, especially Damian, the satisfaction of seeing him as a cat, and ran off before anyone could find out.

Cat Tim Drake: Who ran to you and scratched at your window to get in, carrying his utility belt in his teeth to show you it was him.

Cat Tim Drake: Who listened to you tease him for a full five minutes before nipping you with his teeth, not to hurt you, even though it did sting a bit, and simply held your hand between his teeth for a few seconds looking up at you in shock over his own actions as if surprised he did it.

Cat Tim Drake: Who you fed roast chicken to when he refused to eat any actual cat food because it looked gross.

Cat Tim Drake: Who ran back and forth from the batcave to your apartment bringing documents to you about the artifact so you could help turn him back.

Cat Tim Drake: Who micromanaged, pacing back and forth on top of the kitchen table while meowing and pawing at papers trying to get you to see the connections he did.

Cat Tim Drake: Who got tired after several hours of work because he didn't have any energy drinks to keep him awake and he knew from listening to Damian yap about animals that cats usually slept like 16 hours a day.

Cat Tim Drake: Who reluctantly curled up in your lap and napped while you continued to work, but bit and tugged at your sweater before he did so you would take it off and cover him in it for extra warmth.

Cat Tim Drake: Who lost all track of time and slept for so many hours he didn't even know what day it was (damn cats had to have different senses of time) when he woke up, finding you hunched over the table, sleeping in a way that was sure to give you an ache in your neck.

Cat Tim Drake: Who woke you up, pawing at your cheek gently and meowing in your ear quietly and saw your eyes flutter open, immediately causing him to start purring when he felt a rush of affection for your willingness to help him.

Cat Tim Drake: Who is sitting on the dining room table when you finally turn into a human again and he's suddenly staring at you with his sweet blue eyes, his legs dangling off the side of the table.

Cat Tim Drake: Who pulls you into the biggest hug, resting his head on your shoulder as he apologizes for making you help him and tells you he loves you for all you do for him.

Cat Tim Drake: Who is so exhausted from being a cat and stressing so much he shed all over your couch that he falls asleep at a reasonable hour for once, clinging to you tightly, humming instead of purring as a way to show his affection.

Cat Tim Drake: Who tries to lie to his family when he gets home, telling them he had spent the weekend with you, but is immediately caught when Bruce pulls up the security footage of him hissing at one of the mice in the batcave before trying to catch it.

---

(He's like 15-16?)

Cat Damian Wayne: Who is turned into a Bengal with bright green eyes and dark spots by some wizard from another dimension during a fight and runs away shortly after his family gets back to the cave after scruffing him to bring him back.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who knows his family well enough to know he wouldn't get a moment of peace with them poking him and making fun of him for his form while trying to fix him, so he goes to you instead, showing up at school in between your classes.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who jumps in your locker, rubbing his head against the picture of him you keep taped to the back of it and watches your eyes widen in realization as you reach into the locker to pull him out of it, slipping the rest of your classes to take him home.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who grumbles slightly when you shove him under your coat to sneak him past your parents, and to your room, but relaxes once he gets there, being dropped on your bed and immediately turning in circles before laying down for the first bit of calm he's had all day.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who kind of enjoys watching you pace and panic more than him, because in a weird way it's nice to know you care so much.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who already knows so much about cats that becoming one is a piece of cake, and he can pretty much control his feline self as best he would his normal self....aside from occasionally purring when he doesn't want to.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who jumps on your desk as you fret, bumping his head against your hand to get you to look at him instead of worrying and meows softly as an attempt to comfort you.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who allows himself to be pulled into your lap if that's what you need and doesn't try to escape, even though he easily could, because you are, he'll admit, pretty warm and soft and you smell quite good.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who hides under your bed when your parents come up to check on you when you choose to eat dinner in your room and share your steamed veggies with him because you know he doesn't eat meat, even as a cat.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who doesn't want to go home to face his family's ridicule so sleeps in your bed, maintaining a respectable distance... until he gets sick of sleeping at the foot of your bed and having you accidentally kick him. Then he moves to lay by your head on your pillow.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who jumps in your bag the next day, desperate to not stay here or go home and after some sad, pathetic meowing (that he'd lie about making if you ever brought it up) you allowed it.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who is so predictable that his family knew he'd be with you and sent Dick to wait outside the school after your classes were over because they found a way to fix him.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who scratches his brother when he tries to take him and has to be carried back to the cave by you instead.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who hears exactly one joke out of Timothy before his father gives him a glare that shuts him up, suggesting they had a conversation before about not doing that when he came back.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who finally turns back into himself again and the first words out of his mouth are "I handled the situation better than you did, Drake." Shortly followed by a quietly mumbled "Thank you, for taking care of me." In your direction.

Cat Damian Wayne: Who watches you shrug and act like it's no big deal but can see the blush creep onto your cheeks and walks you out, giving you a proper kiss once away from his family.

[badbtssmut]

A party for three

As usual, you and your boyfriend Taehyung travel by van to the same festival the both of you have been going to since you first started dating. But when you run into his best friend at the festival, you suddenly end the night with your pussy filled to the brim.

Contains: Everyone is under the influence, drunk, threesome, dubcon cause nobody’s thinking clearly, yn gets called a slut, double penetration in pussy <- yn winces and says it’s too tight but Tae encourages her, yn cries out of pleasure, riding, missionary, doggystyle, boobplay, multi orgasm, just fucking with literally zero thoughts

Admin note: fuck me I wrote this all on the tumblr app and it didn’t fucking save and I had to do it AGAIN!! :)

—

It was a warm night in the middle of summer as you and your boyfriend, Taehyung, pulled up in the parking lot of a venue you knew all too well. The two of you had been coming to this exact music festival for a few years now, and tonight was just the same as any other.

Or so you thought.

You cheered as one of your favorite bands entered the stage and took the crowd by storm, their fans immediately beginning to crowd the stage and the surrounding area.

Taehyung, on the other hand, wasn't even watching the band. He was busy watching you, your smile lighting up your entire face as you swayed your hips to the music and sang along to the lyrics. When you felt his eyes on you, you glanced over at him, smiling at him before you stepped closer and gave him a peck on the lips.

"Are you enjoying the show?" You asked him, giggling.

He shrugged. "I am now," he said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him.

You giggled at his words; not sure if it was because you were tipsy or because you were amused by his cheesiness, but nonetheless he made you giggle.

A tap on his shoulder caught him by surprise and he turned around in confusion before a grin made his way to his face.

“Hey!” Jimin greeted cheerfully, (he was Taehyung’s best friend), waving at the two of you.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Taehyung asked, which earned a playful push from Jimin.

“Dude, the same as you two are doing here, obviously, except I don’t have a pretty girl on my arm.”

You smiled at his compliment and reached over to give him a hug, and he hugged you back.

Jimin tagged along with the three of you, and the band was still going strong and performing, so you all decided to continue partying together. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and you were definitely a bit more than tipsy at this point. Your head was spinning, your body felt light, and you couldn’t stop giggling as you leaned into Taehyung for support, who was also quite drunk.

The band played a song that was more on the slower side, so everyone was moving along to the music rather than jumping up and down like they had been earlier.

"Hey," Taehyung murmured in your ear, and you turned around to face him, "want to head back to the van and relax a bit?"

You nodded in response.

“Jimin? You coming with us or staying here?" You asked, turning to his best friend.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

And with that, the three of you walked out of the venue and to the parking lot, where you all stepped into the van; it was one of those fancy ones, the really big vans that had a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen— it was fucking expensive but Taehyung insisted that it would be cool for road trips and it definitely was.

You flopped down on the bed and closed your eyes, your head spinning, and a few seconds later you felt the bed sink a bit, and you opened your eyes to see that it was Jimin, and he was staring at you.

"Y/N, I have been curious for a while... can I ask you something?" He said, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Sure." You responded, curious as to what he wanted to know.

"Your boobs, they look really soft, can I touch them? I've always wanted to feel them."

You laughed, his bluntness amusing you. “Okay.”

He reached his hand forward, and you watched as he gently cupped your breasts through your bra. He squeezed them a few times, and then he looked up at you. "Can I touch you under your shirt?" Jimin asked, his eyes hopeful.

You were feeling bold (probably due to all the stuff you took), and also very turned on, so you nodded. "Go ahead."

With your permission, he pushed your shirt up and over your head, and you sat up and unhooked your bra, letting it fall off of your shoulders. And then before you knew it, you and Jimin were cuddled up, your back rested against the wall as he laid on top of you, sucking on your tits and groping your boobs.

You had one hand resting on his head and the other found it’s way between your legs, rubbing your pussy through your shorts, moaning at the sensation.

Before you knew it, Jimin’s cock was in his hands, and he was pushing your shorts to the side and grinding his erection against your clit before it slipped in and was sliding in and out of you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as he pounded into you, the two of you breathing heavily.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're so wet, baby," he moaned, thrusting his cock in and out of your pussy, his hips snapping against your ass, "so good, fuck."

You were panting, throwing your head back as his cock slammed into you, over and over.

The door then creaked open, and you looked over to see that it was your boyfriend, standing in the doorway. However, he didn’t seem fazed by the fact his girlfriend was getting fucked by his best friend. Instead, he stepped forward and crawled onto the bed, next to you. He grabbed hold of your face and kissed you, his tongue slipping past your lips, and you could taste the alcohol on his breath. His fingers trailed to your clit, rubbing it with his thumb as he continued to kiss you.

Taehyung pulled away, taking in the sight of his best friend’s cock drilling into you.

“Good pussy?” Taehyung asked with a chuckle.

"Very good pussy," Jimin replied, moaning as he thrusted his cock in and out of you, "gonna beat it up so good, gonna fuck it all up," he groaned, his hand reaching down to grab onto your tit.

“Mmhmm, I know how much she likes her pussy getting beat up. Do you like having your pussy beat up, baby?" Taehyung cooed.

You could only whimper, your mouth hanging open and your eyes squeezed shut.

“She loves it, dude, look at her," said Jimin, smirking.

Taehyung watched in awe as you rode his best friend's cock, your walls fluttering around his thick length. Taehyung could no longer ignore his hardening cock, so he reached down and unzipped his jeans, his erection springing free.

You felt him press his cock against your cheek, and you opened your eyes to see him holding his errection, the head rubbing against your cheek.

"You want it, baby?" He asked, and you nodded eagerly, opening your mouth. He guided his cock towards your mouth, and you opened it wider to take it, allowing him to slide it between your lips.

As you sucked on his cock, he ran his fingers over your arms before he held onto your hand and watched as you bobbed your head up and down, slurping and sucking on his shaft, your mouth full of his cock.

“Jimin…” You whined, spreading your legs as far as they could, allowing his cock to slam into you even deeper, and it was driving you crazy.

"What's wrong, miss Tae’s girlfriend? Can't take anymore?" He teased, grinning as he watched your face contort in pleasure, Taehyung’s cock slipping out of your mouth. Jimin grabbed you by the hips, holding you in place as he adjusted himself, fucking you from a deeper angle. Taehyung wrapped your fingers around his shaft, and you started to rub him off, watching as Jimin drilled into you.

"Such a pretty little slut, taking me and Tae's cock, I bet your pussy's just dying to get fucked, isn't it, slut?" Jimin asked with gritted teeth.

You cried out in response, your eyes rolling back in your head, and soon you were cumming, your pussy squeezing and contracting around his cock.

Taehyung stroked himself faster, watching as you came, and Jimin pulled out, wanting to feel your mouth around his cock, while Taehyung took his place, lifting you off the bed and putting you on his lap, facing him.

You sunk yourself onto his cock, wrapping your arms around his neck as you started to ride him, and he thrusted his hips upward, meeting yours.

“Yeah babe, ride my cock just like that, bounce on my dick," Taehyung encouraged, groaning as he watched you bounce up and down on his shaft, his hands resting on your hips.

Jimin stood next to the bed, jerking himself off as he watched you get fucked, and he stepped closer to you and held his cock out, and you immediately took him into your mouth, moaning as you moved your head back and forth, taking him all the way in.

“Love it?” Taehyung cooed, his hands moving to your ass and squeezing your cheeks.

“Love it so much," you managed to say, the two of them thrusting their cocks in and out of you.

"Love your holes filled with my cock and my best friend's, don't you, baby?" Taehyung whispered as he caressed your face.

"Yes, Tae, love it, love cocks so much, please," you begged, your voice a whimper.

"Gonna fuck you until you're sore and can't walk," he said, smirking as he slapped your ass, "want two cocks in your pussy? Think you can handle that?”

“She wants two cocks?” Jimin pulled his errection out of your mouth, stroking himself as he stared at your pussy.

Taehyung lifted you off his dick, turning you around, your back against his chest and his dick pressed against your ass.

"Jimin's cock is nice and big too, so I think it'll be a tight fit. Think you can handle that, babe?"

“Please, want them,” You giggled, rolling your hips impatiently, “put cock in me, I want it."

Taehyung grabbed hold of his cock and pushed the tip into you, and then slowly lowered you down onto him, letting out a hiss as your sweet pussy engulfed him.

You leaned back into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, his hands resting on your stomach. He began to pump his cock in and out of you, his eyes falling closed.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, "love your pussy, so good, babe."

"I love it too," said Jimin, climbing onto the bed, his cock brushing against your thigh, still rock hard. “Where do I put it in? Don’t see space, too tight."

You were about to open your mouth to tell him where to put it, but before you could, Taehyung spoke first.

"Just push it in on top of mine," Taehyung told him, "don't worry, she'll make space."

Jimin did what he was told, and you felt him start to push in, at which you winced and whimpered.

"Shhh, you'll be okay," cooed your boyfriend, his hand going to your clit and rubbing it gently, "just relax and let it happen, baby. Don't worry, we're not gonna hurt you, promise.” He whispered against your ear, before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

“Too tight, too full…” You whimpered, squirming in his arms, but he held you in place, his grip tightening around your waist.

"Baby, I can feel Jimin’s cock, it’s almost in all the way, you feel it too? He's rubbing his cock against mine," said your boyfriend, chuckling softly.

"Yeah, yeah," Jimin breathed, finally pushing his cock all the way in, letting out a deep groan, "fuck, so tight, fuck."

The two of them started to move, and the sensation of having both their cocks inside of you was almost too much to bear.

"Please, don't stop, don't stop," you chanted, tears streaming down your cheeks as they pumped their cocks in and out of you, stretching your pussy even further, filling you up so perfectly.

They both began to speed up, and the room was filled with the sounds of their grunts and moans, along with the sound of your pussy squelching as they fucked it.

"Shit, she's milking my cock," said Jimin, his hands grabbing onto your thighs, pushing your legs back as he drilled into you. Taehyung never lost his rhythm, pounding upwards with a steady pace, his cock hitting all the right places— while Jimin pushed in, Taehyung pulled out, when Taehyung took a break, Jimin didn’t stop, and occasionally you’d be double drilled when they’d both push their cocks in at the same time, the sensations overwhelming and mind numbing.

You cried out as your pussy began to spasm, and soon you were cumming again, the two of them fucking you through it, their dicks continuing to pound into your pussy, not slowing down for a second.

“Oh, oh!” Your eyes rolled back, mouth wide open and drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. You didn’t know how you were taking two cocks at the same time, but you were, and it felt amazing.

After the double penetrating, you ended up in the arms of your boyfriend who fucked you missionary style, the two of you making out while he thrusted into you, his tongue down your neck and his hands exploring your body, squeezing your breasts as he enjoyed your pussy. Then after, Jimin took over and fucked you doggystyle, your legs spread and back arched as his cock rammed into you from behind, your ass jiggling each time his hips met yours.

You didn’t know how long the three of you managed to keep it up, but you fell asleep somewhere between the sex, and when you woke up the sun was shining through the curtains and you were wrapped in a blanket.

Taehyung was heard in the kitchen, presumably making breakfast.. or lunch.

You sat up, wincing as your muscles ached and the events of last night replayed in your head.

That was just a fucked up wet dream, right?

Your boyfriend stepped into the room, holding a plate.

"Hey babe, here, I made you some breakfast, thought you needed it after last night."

[sissy4you2day]

From Behind, It's All the Same: A Vacation of Secrets and Surrender

Somehow, it ended up being the best vacation you ever had.

It was inevitable, ever since she walked in on you wearing her lingerie and using her vibrator. So, you and your girlfriend broke up…but the vacation was paid in full and non-refundable. Neither of you would give it up so, of course, you both go. What could go wrong?

You'd been secretly exploring your sissy side before but, ever since the breakup, you had been going all out - shaving every inch of your body, going to the tanning salon, and growing out your hair.

Luckily, the resort allowed you to switch to a two-bedroom suite. Now you were sure you could enjoy a relaxing vacation without her disturbing you too much. But that hope was shattered the very first night when she got back from the bar, totally plastered, with not one, but two guys. Even though they were in the other room, you could hear everything through the paper thin walls.

The week marched on and she was a total whore. Each night bringing back a new guy, each seemingly louder than the last. You thought you'd be mad at her for being such a slut, but the thought of a new man coming in every night to fuck, his naked body and erect cock just a room away…was somehow extremely arousing.

One night ended up being a little different than the others, one you'd never forget.

You had stayed in to play, sneaking into her room and borrowing her sluttiest lingerie to dress up in. At some point you had fallen asleep when the front door rudely awakened you. You realized you were still in her lingerie, the sheets all on the floor, and you still lying face down into the pillow.

You lay there frozen, listening to the her latest conquest. By the sounds of it, they started fooling around just inside the entrance. He asked where the bathroom was and she told him to meet her in the bedroom after. She loudly stumbled into her own room. You could hear her kick her boots off as the each hit the wall with a thud. Then, by the sounds of the snores, she had immediately passed out. The running water stopped, and the stranger drunkenly stumbled into the wrong room - your room instead of hers.

The lights were off, the room only illuminated by the light of the television. He didn't know he was in the wrong room, but he thought you were her lying there face down on the bed in slutty lingerie. You could hear the ruffling of him quickly removing his clothes, his weight on the mattress as he got on and straddled you. His manly hands started playing with your smooth, girly ass, the only part he could reach. You simply lay there, allowing it to happen.

His scruffy face starts kissing each cheek, a finger starts caressing your asshole and you release a girly moan that only seems to encourage him as he pulls your thong to the side and begins to eat you ass. It's not long before it happens, using his spit as lube you can feel his cock pressing up against your asshole. He slips inside, slowly working his cock deeper with each movement of his hips. It's not long before he begins quickening his pace, fucking you relentlessly. You feel him tensing up as he grunts, a warmth flooding you from the inside as he cums deep inside of you.

He gets up, deciding it's time to leave now that he got what he came for. You remain there, unmoving until you hear him leave and the front door closing.

You get up and turn on the lights, moving to the mirror and staring at yourself. You had allowed yourself to be used, to be taken in a way that had left you feeling both vulnerable and empowered. You smile at yourself as his cum begins to drip down your leg. You felt a strange mix of shame and exhilaration, a cocktail of emotions that left you breathless.

As you walked back to the bed, the sheets still strewn across the floor, you felt a sense of anticipation. The vacation had become a journey of self-exploration, a chance to embrace the parts of yourself that you had kept hidden for so long. And as you lay down, the cum still warm on your skin, you knew that this was only the beginning.

[wileys-russo]

blurb idea! maybe mila gets into readers makeup and heels and clothes ? i'm thinking she's gotten herself a red lipstick and had fun 😂

a little red lipstick II l.williamson

part of the milaverse a little red lipstick II l.williamson

"-and it is my turn to pay next time less!" you warned your best friend who grinned as she shut off her engine in your driveway. "snooze you lose." the blonde teased, the two of you returning from a much needed spa day which the footballer had paid for before you could even blink.

"consider it your gift for giving me the most adorable god daughter in the world." the striker winked, locking her car as you made your way up to the front door, not even grabbing your house keys out before it swung open.

"mama you're back! and you brought aunty lessi!" mila cheered happily, charging forward as you were rendered a little speechless by her appearance, alessia scooping her up as the two of you

"i see someone has gotten into her mama's makeup!" alessia didn't even try to hide her amusement at the sight of the very colourful four year old in her arms. "and heels! but can't run in em." mila huffed with a scowl.

"bubba where did you-why did you-" you grabbed her face in your hands, eyes scanning the somewhat clown like makeup slapped across her eyes, cheeks and lips.

"wanna be like you mama! a very pretty girl." mila beamed poking at your own cheeks. "someones been listening to leah." alessia smirked, quickly putting your daughter down after the unimpressed glare shot her way.

"come look at my art! did you and mummy a special picture." the two of you lurched forward unexpectantly as mila grabbed a hand each and tugged you both down the hallway.

though the moment you stepped inside your bedroom, the somewhat adorable innocence of your daughter playing dress up fell dead in the water.

"oo and that is aunty lessi's cue to leave! mil i will come and pick you up for our special aquarium date tomorrow...if you live to see it." alessia mumbled the last part, ducking down to kiss your daughters cheek and not even wasting her breath addressing you as your entire focus was trained to your once cream white wall.

"bye aunty lessi! love you!" mila called after the striker who was down the hall and out the door in a millisecond, clueless to your emotions as you stared in disbelief at the wall.

"mila. wheres mummy?" you asked calmly, jaw clenched and exhaling slowly through your nostrils, eyes still locked on the patterns scribbled in bright red lipsticks all over the once clean wall.

"playing her games and yelling at aunty gee! oh mummy said a bad word, a lot of bad words." mila relayed as you inhaled deeply, very slowly lowering yourself down to be at her level.

"mila. bubba what you did to the wall? was very naughty. when you want to draw you have your coloring books and your pens, you only use those, and never ever on a wall and especially not with mamas makeup. do you understand?" you spoke calmly but firmly, your stomach flipping at the immediate way the four year olds face fell and her bottom lip began to quiver.

"i'm sorry!" you almost fell backwards as tiny limbs locked around your neck in a steel tight hug. "i know. but what happens when we're naughty mil?" you gently wrenched her arms off you as much as it killed you to do so, using your thumb to wipe away the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.

"timeout?" "timeout." you confirmed with a nod, standing back up and offering the tiny blonde your hand, preparing yourself for a tantrum but to both your surprise and relief it never came, mila taking your hand and allowing you to lead her away to the timeout corner.

"you're four years old, so four minutes. you stay sitting here with your bum on the floor and your back on the wall and you do not move until mama comes back and gets you, okay?" you reminded, mila nodding with a little half sob and sniffle, and again it took all of your willpower not to just crumble and scoop her back up.

but you knew you couldn't or else she'd never learn right from wrong, so with a countdown set on your phone you left her be, stomping away instead to go and strangle your wife who sure enough was exactly where you thought she'd be.

"leah catherine!" you yelled, almost kicking in the half open door to her office as the blonde didn't even flinch, back to you and clunky dyson headphones covering her ears, fifa loaded on the monitor in front of her as she sat with her feet up on her desk.

but that ignorance didn't last more than a few seconds once you'd burst in, headphones yanked right off her as the girl let out a yell of surprise, chair toppling over as your wife went thumping to the ground.

"babe what the fuck!" leah groaned clutching her side where the arm of the chair had dug in, scrambling for the controller which you swiftly kicked out of the way.

"i'm in the middle of a game!" leah whined, mouth forming an o at the way you stepped forward and yanked the chord out from the console sending everything black.

"where is our daughter leah?" "she's playing dress up! now why the hell did you-" "where is she playing leah?"

but finally glancing up and seeing the all too familiar look in your eyes your wife fell silent. "i'm beginning to think i'm in trouble." the blonde smiled nervously as she sat up and you laughed bitterly.

"oh that is not even the half of it leah!" but before you could really launch head first into the colossal lecture lingering on the tip of your tongue the timer for mila's timeout went.

"up. on your feet. come with me right now!"

scrambling and falling over herself in her haste your wife scurried after you as you stomped out of the office and back down the hall, coming to a stop back in front of your very somber looking four year old.

"aw bubba why are you crying what hap-" "leah!"

at the hiss of her voice your wife froze, looking back and meeting your sharp warning glare she retreated from where she'd been surging forward to wrap mila in a hug and stood awkwardly behind you instead.

"now, why did you have to go to timeout mila?" you asked softly, crouching down in front of your daughter who sniffled. "cause i did a naughty thing." mila wiped her nose on the collar of her shirt leaving a bright orange foundation stain that had you wincing at the thought of the work it would take to be rid of it.

"what was that?" "drew on the walls with mamas makeup."

"sorry you what-" with another harsh glare from you leah fell silent again, rocking back and forth on her feet with a guilty expression in her features, the pieces of the puzzle now slowly slotting together in her head.

"mama i'm really really really sorry." "i know you are baby, come here." with that you opened your arms and engulfed your daughter in a hug, her legs wrapping around you as you stood and picked her up with you.

"now. you and mama are gonna go clean up that pretty little face of yours bubba, and then we're gonna go get pizza for dinner-" the downtrodden look was wiped right off her face at those words, your wives too though that wouldn't last long.

"-and mummy is going to stay here by herself, have plain toast for dinner and clean the bedroom wall so she doesn't have to sleep on the sofa tonight!"

[mostly-imagines]

Who Needs Heaven? : The Drop-In

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason meets his daughters

warnings: it’s not specific if the kids are bio or adopted — this probably doesn’t make sense on multiple fronts but i DON’T CARE

see for: the vibes

(2) safe & sound

His body jolts like he’s snapping out of sleep. The first thing he processes is loud conversations echoing, the sound of young girls talking over each other. He surveys over a book in his hands that he’s never heard of, though it’s opened more than halfway through and considerably worn. He drops the book to the side, coming to a stand and scanning over the environment. 

He looks around the adorned living room, taking in details rapidly. He doesn’t recognize the house he’s in but he can tell it’s somewhere he definitely does not belong. The room is filled with books on shelves and picture frames are littered in every free spot in between. The lights are warm and the furniture is colorful with pillows and blankets strewn all over. It’s a stark contrast to the refined stoic Manor he’s so used to; there’s a distinct feeling of homeliness and warmth that seeps through the walls.

He creeps into the front entryway to the house as quietly as he can, peering up the staircase to the landing above for any signs of familiarity or danger. From his right, a girl comes darting into the space, running face first into Jason. He immediately reaches out to steady her but she shows no sign of disruption. She makes a point of holding the wrapped popsicle in her hand away, keeping it safe. She blinks up at him before taking off past him, calling out, “Sorry, dad!”

Dad?

“Anna, I swear to God—” Another girl of similar age runs past, paying him no mind.

He gapes after her, thoroughly confused. Where the hell is he?

“Daddy?” He turns around and looks down to a younger girl who looks about six at most. She stares up at him with wide eyes and freckled cheeks. “Are you okay?”  

He can’t think.

This isn’t…this can’t be real. It can’t be. This is a dream. He got knocked out. He’s hallucinating. He’s dying.

He tries to keep his breath steady as this little girl peers up at him with curious eyes. “Daddy?”

He opens his mouth, struggling to find words, let alone get them out. “Where…where’s your mom?” He can barely make out his own voice.

“She’s in your room,” she tells him, looking up the stairs. 

He treds up the stairs slowly, the chatter downstairs barely getting any quieter. The second floor seems deserted in terms of the presence of children. If, if this were real (or more likely, a dream) you’ll be here somewhere. There’s no scenario where he’d ever imagine a life in a big house with a big family without you—subconsciously or otherwise. 

Several doors line the wide hallway, most of them open. He peers in the room closest to the top of the staircase, finding a heartily decorated bedroom with two twin beds. Polaroids and movie posters litter the walls and clothes are strewn across on top of the bed covers and in a few small piles on the floor. An orange lava lamp illuminates the room from a desk, shining off the glossy cover of magazines. Above, sports medals dangle off the wall against a white board, a scribbled on game of hangman midway through. A full-length mirror covered in stickers along the edges reflects a bookshelf across the room, dozens of books stuffed on each shelf. He blinks vacantly, pulling back from the doorway and continuing on.

He continues on down the right side of the hallway, passing up a bathroom and a closet before peering into the next room. It also has two beds, but it’s filled with remnants of young children. A small table with a tea set laid out on top sits in the middle of the room with various princess dresses draped across the short chairs. Pink bed sheets and butterfly-filled curtains joined by toy cars lined against the wall and strings of pink starry lights hanging from the ceiling. Both beds have stuffed animals arranged in thoughtful piles. It takes Jason a moment to notice the tattered, worn elephant with the green polka dot tie on the bed with the Cinderella comforter. Pickles. It was his when he was a kid. It’s placed delicately at the top of the pile, like he’s the king of the crop. A grand dollhouse sticks out against one of the walls, the dolls all lying asleep in their makeshift beds. Fluffy bubblegum and fuschia rugs scatter the floor just enough that you could jump across the room without ever touching the hardwood.

He turns to the last room, a door directly across that’s just cracked open. He can hear light music coming from inside and the almost inaudible shuffle of movement. He pushes the door open cautiously and takes in the sight of a woman, back to the door, folding laundry on the bed. He doesn’t even need to see your whole figure to know that it’s you.

“Sweetheart?” He sounds like he’s out of breath. 

“Yeah?” You turn around with your same kind eyes and gentle disposition. You look older, not much older but your face is more mature. You even hold yourself a little differently. You quickly notice the way he scans you with a look of bewilderment on his face and jump into concern. “What’s wrong?” You drop the shirt that you’re folding on the bed, approaching him with soft steps. Everything feels fuzzy.

“This—this is…” His voice seems far away, this body feels further. “This isn’t real…”

“What? Jay, what are you talking about?” You’re so genuinely concerned about him it makes his heart hurt and does nothing to help clear his head.

His breathing starts to stutter and his eyes can’t pick something to focus on. Everything is telling him that this is a false sense of security, he’s not safe, you’re not safe, everything’s wrong—

“Woah, hey, hey. It’s okay.” You take his face in your hands the way you know tends to ground him. “Catch me up.”

He tries to focus on the sliding clasp of the necklace around your neck. “I…I think this is…” He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up only to wake up in a few seconds and find that it was all pretend. Instead, he’ll settle for, “...This hasn’t happened…”

You frown at that, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”

He breathes out heavy, “I think I’m dreaming.” 

“What are you dreaming of?” You walk along this train of thought with him, though he has no idea why you would entertain it. This really must be pretend.

“The future…this is…is this the future?” He’s whispering, he’s not even sure if he’s asking you or himself or maybe even God. 

You’re quiet for a minute before you speak again. “Oh,” you say contemplatively, not nearly as alarmed as you should be. You should probably be calling him crazy, right? “This is—you told me about this. Yeah, it had something to do with that clock guy—”

He blinks a few times, “The Clock King?” That does sound…familiar. Was he—he was with Bruce wasn’t he? Or maybe Dick. Both?

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. You said you ‘time traveled’ for a minute...but that was in, like…”

He fills in the blank with the year as he remembers it and your eyes go wide. “Well, this would be a bit of a surprise then.”

“We have kids?”

You laugh, brushing his hair back gently, “Yes. Yes, we definitely do. Five girls.”

“Five?” He breathes.

“Yeah. Wasn’t the plan but…” you shrug easily, “Here we are.” 

He barely stops his next question from coming out of his mouth and replaces it. “Is this something I should be hearing?”

“What?” You tilt your head for a second before realization flashes across your face. “Oh, you don’t end up remembering any of this.” You shrug, mouth scrunched up to the side, “So why not?”

He does really want to hear about them. “Please.” He whispers faintly. 

You nod reposefully, “Okay, well…” you pause, eyes on the ceiling. “Oh, wait.” You dart over to the bookshelf against the wall and pull a book from the second shelf from the top, a large pink photo album.

You shuffle back, guiding him to the bed and sitting thigh to thigh with him and placing the album on your laps. You flip it open to the first page, which displays an array of photos of who must be his daughter.

“This is Mia—Miriam—she’s the oldest. She’s thirteen now, she’s very smart and a sort of a perfectionist. Really a perfectionist.” A couple of her baby pictures were taken in your apartment and it makes his heart absolutely melt to see you as he left you, holding a baby—his baby—with a glowing smile on your face. There’s another photo of her, kindergarten aged, dressed up as Spoiler for halloween. One shows her on a bike with shimmery handlebar streams, Jason holding her steady as she learns. He’s wearing the brightest smile he’s ever seen on his own face.

“Then there’s the twins,” you continue, flipping to the next page. You laugh when his breath hitches at that. “I know. It’s not as scary as it sounds. Well, not now that they’re older. Ryan and Anna.” You point to them as you say their names, and he recognizes them quickly as the two girls that had run past the stairs. The twins look identical, the only discernible difference found in that Ryan is grinning in every picture with a glint in her eyes and Anna nearly always has a stoic look on her face. 

“Ryan is her father’s daughter. She thinks she’s very clever and even more funny, and she is but don’t tell her that, it goes straight to her head.”

There’s a picture that has to be a couple of years old by now of the two of them dressed in what looks like brand new soccer gear. Another depicts one of them chasing Tim with a firework sparkler at dusk. He sees one of Ryan covered in dirt and tiny cuts, smiling big, helmet crooked on her head.

“Anna’s a happy kid, she is. Don’t let her attitude trick you—she just likes to keep her feelings to herself.” Anna’s pictures remind him of Damian in some ways. The very intentional lack of a smile but the happiness still seeps through anyways. One of her pictures has her cuddling with two rottweiler puppies in classic Damian style. Another one shows her a bit older, on Jason’s shoulders, surveying the land.  

You turn to the next page, “And Laine, uh, Elaine,” you smile, “She’s a bit eccentric. She lives in her own world but she’ll bring you into it with her. She likes magic and glitter and offbeat things.” Laine’s pictures leave a particular warmth in his heart. She has the absolute widest smile and the brightest eyes he’s ever seen. One photo shows her having a picnic with several stuffed animals, another has her drawing a rainbow with sidewalk chalk. One picture towards the bottom of the page grabs his eye, one of Laine happily braiding Cass’ short hair at what appears to be the Manor.

“And then the little one is Aurora—Rory,” You turn to a page full of pictures of the wide-eyed girl, who has the sweetest baby face. He can tell from the pictures alone that she has your personality. You point to a picture of her giggling with bubbles all in her hair as you explain, “She’s still small but she has a big heart and a very sensitive soul already.” Jason’s practically staring a hole in the picture of Rory as a newborn in the hospital, held delicately by Bruce.

You play with the hair at the nape of his neck as he processes quietly, letting him take his time.

“They’re happy?” He asks in a whisper.

“We’re happy.” You say affirmingly. He looks you in the eyes and you see a specific vulnerability in his that you haven’t seen in a long time. “You are a good dad, Jay.”

He’s still surprised that you can read him like a book, even though at this point you’d have been together for at least fifteen-some years. His eyes burn and he’s not sure he can keep it together. But you dig the knife in all the same, “They love you. A lot. We couldn’t live without you.”

You flip through until you find a page later in the book, plopping it back open fully. The first picture he takes note of shows him outside with picked flowers scattered in his hair wherever they’ll stay put, Laine and Rory trying to straighten them out. Another is of Anna hesitantly feeding a horse an apple, Jason crouched next to her, reassuring her. On the other page, Rory is mid-air being thrown into an absolutely massive leaf pile, glee adorning her face. He turns the page to find one of the girls with a red hoodie pulled over her head and a makeshift mask made from a red plastic plate with holes cut out for the eyes. One has Mia resting against his back, passed out, as he helps Ryan tie off a friendship bracelet on her wrist.

This isn’t—he doesn’t deserve this. This can’t be true, this is more than a happy ending and he’d never even expected you to love him this long, let alone give him the world and then some. He stares at the page for a while, trying to burn every detail into his head. 

You tear your gaze away from his face to glance at the clock on the side table, muttering, “Oh shit. Hang on.”

His eyes follow you as you stand from the bed and walk across the room to the door, cracking it open a few inches before shouting out, “Bed!”

There’s a brief delay before a clamor starts towards them, all five girls thumping up the stairs.  

You turn back to him, heedfully, “You can stay in here if you want. They’re a little…a lot.” You say tentatively. Well, if there’s anything he’s accustomed to it’s big families with bigger personalities.

Jason lingers behind you as you enter the hallway, looking like a little kid in an unfamiliar place. Whatever conversations were going on downstairs have simply moved location, no urgency present whatsoever to continue on with the progression of the night. You’re trying to verbally corral them towards their respective bedrooms, but it’s a tough job with two clear headed parents on a good day.

He stands frozen in the midst of the clutter of them as they rattle off to you and to each other. He’s scared to say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing. He doesn’t want to upset or alarm them. But because he is their father, they don’t need him to do anything strange to realize that he’s being strange.

Ryan squints up at him, “What’s wrong with you?”

The question grabs Laine’s attention and she looks to you with wide eyes, “What’s wrong with Dad?”

You shake your head, “Nothing’s—”

“He’s not having a stroke already, is he?” Anna faints, no alarm in her words. Mia thumps the back of her head for that with no returning acknowledgement given by Anna.

Ryan is looking at him like she’s sizing him up. Something you did not get a chance to tell him about Ryan is that she can smell blood in the water like a shark. So it’s not surprising to you that she picks up on Jason’s disoriented state.

“Father?” She calls out sweetly.

You sigh, “Ryan—”

“No, it’s okay. I want to ask dad specifically.” She turns him away from you with a smile. She doesn’t know what’s going on and she doesn’t need to. She’s an opportunist like that. “Could I have the last popsicle?”

Anna cuts in harshly, “You better n—”

“Hey Annie, few notes for ya,” Ryan says with widened eyes and a pointed finger, “One, you shouldn’t interrupt your father, it’s disrespectful,” Anna’s face contorts at that, and she’s about to bite back but she’s cut off quickly by Ryan’s dedication to dishing out her hypocritical sermon. “Two, you shouldn’t interrupt me because it’s potentially the single greatest sin you’ll ever—”

Alright, you gave her a chance to turn it around, she’s done now. “No, you’re all going to bed now and if you’re lucky that popsicle is still there when you get home from school tomorrow.” You tell Ryan with a pointed look. She gives you a half-hearted glare, absolutely nothing compared to her real one. 

“Mom, you said—” Mia throws her hands up as she recounts a promise that you may or may not have given her, it’s anyone’s guess. 

Then Anna starts up, “That’s not fair, I called—”

Rory pipes up from behind you. “We’re supposed to read our story first.”

You inhale sharply, turning to face her, “Oh—” you crouch down to her level, holding her waist. “How about I read it tonight, Rory?”

She frowns, “Daddy always reads it.”

Ryan taps on Jason’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “Dad, listen,” she says lowly, like she’s trying to get him in on the deal of the century. “Anna doesn’t deserve it, she’s rooting for you to stroke out—”

You frown at Rory with repentance, “I know sweetheart, but—”

Laine looks quite contemplative as she announces, “It’s unholy to break tradition.”

You scrunch up your face and swivel your head to her, “What?”

This declaration does enough to break Ryan away from her scheme. She turns to her and says flatly, “You haven’t said anything that makes sense in like two weeks.” 

Jason’s mind is going a mile a minute, trying to process the fifteen things that are going on all at once and take in the fact that these are his children. His daughters and they’re so loud and opinionated and bold and he loves it. He thinks this is the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. Hell, he’d take this over heaven a million times over.

“Mom. Mom!” Mia urges, “Can you help me?”

Your head stutters between your daughters, “I—yeah. Rory, just—”

“I can do it.” He says quietly.

“Yeah?” You look up at him, hopefully, genuinely delighted that he wants to jump into this mess without the twelve years of prep that you’re dependent on. 

“Yeah.” He nods, determined and you and Rory smile up at him. Mia all but yanks you up from the floor, pulling you to her room and you can just barely make out Ryan’s hushed murmur of, “I’m getting the popsicle…”

Rory takes Jason’s hand, drowning her own in his. She leads him to the pink bedroom with all the toys, and climbs onto the unicorn bed, shoving all but a few of the stuffed animals onto the floor. Elaine follows close behind and does the same with her own bed, though the only one she keeps is Pickles.

He stands next to the bed a bit awkwardly as she pulls a book off the table next to her, the length of the book easily taking up half her arms. It takes her looking up at him expectantly for him to get the hint, shuffling to squeeze in next to her on the small bed. 

She hands him the book and he regards it with a smile. Little Women. He pauses as he starts to open it, “Where, um…where did we leave off?”

She looks at him funny, smiling like he’s messing with her. She flips the book open a little more than halfway through and stops on chapter fifteen. She presses her pointer finger down to the start of the chapter with a thump. “Right here.”

Jason takes a steadying breath and begins reading in the same soft voice he reads to you in, and it seems to appease both girls. He’s not processing what he’s saying as he sits there with his littlest daughter tucked into his side and hanging on to every last word. He can feel her breathing in and out softly and it all feels so surreal now. 

““I don't think you'll blame me, for I only sold what was my own." As she spoke, Jo took off her bonnet, and a general outcry arose, for all her abundant hair was cut short.” Rory giggles as Laine gasps, and Jason can feel the rhythm of his heart fluttering in a new way. 

He reads to the end of the chapter and returns the book to its place on the side table, and reluctantly pulls away from Rory, standing up again. He tucks her nicely, if not inexperienced, into the sheets and kisses her forehead. She immediately holds out her toy bear, silently requesting the same treatment for him. Jason kisses the bear too, happily. He does the same for Laine, taking particular note of the way she hugs Pickles to her chest tightly. 

He starts towards the door, but is quickly put to a halt. “Wait,” Laine calls out. He turns back to her wide-eyed, terrified he did something wrong. “The lights,” she says, looking up to the ceiling at the dangling stars. Oh, right. She watches him skeptically as he innocently looks around for the switch, and Rory tilts her head at him, not sure what he’s playing at. 

“It’s right there,” Rory points with a mildly sullen look to where the mechanism dangles near the outlet. Jason quickly flicks the lights on, the soft orange-pink glow of stars illuminating against the walls. Rory’s pleased enough and adjusts to get more comfortable in her bed. 

Laine however, hisses out a, “Hey,” gesturing him towards her. He sidesteps the tea table and comes around to her side of the room, kneeling down by her bed attentively. She glances over at Rory before asking in a hushed voice, “Are you an alien?” 

That, he wasn’t expecting. “...What?” 

She shakes her head reassuringly, “It’s okay, I won’t tell. But um…I would like my dad back eventually please. If that’s okay.”  

His breath stutters and he forces out an, “O—okay.”

She holds out her pinky and it takes him a second to register what she’s asking. He wordlessly pinky promises her and she smiles big, pleased with the agreement.

He stands again, feeling light headed as he heads for the door. 

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Rory murmurs against the pillow, watching him leave.

His gaze flickers back and forth from them to make sure they like having the door closed, Rory watches him bemusedly and Laine nods at him slyly with a twinkle in her eyes. “Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight,” He exhales, not as loud as he meant to. He clicks the door shut softly and there’s a warmth in his chest that he could get addicted to.

He wanders down the hall towards the sound of your voice, passing Anna and Ryan climbing under their covers and murmuring something to each other, half eaten popsicle in the ladders hand. He passes the staircase, peering his head into the next room over. His eyes immediately land on you and Mia stood in front of an armoire, shuffling through clothes having an exchange of considerative words.

Mia’s room is very neat and put together, everything is placed with much more intention than in the other girls rooms. Her room has more mellow colors too, largely white with soft shades of pastels throughout. There’s a desk with organized notebooks and multiple vases of flowers, with bundles of yarn placed nicely in a basket in the corner. A tall bookshelf is filled with fifty-some books with a violin case leaning up against it. Nail polishes rest beside a jewelry box on the side table next to her bed. She also has picture frames across the walls, some containing photos of flora, others of the family, and a few of what appears to be her own sketches.

“—worried it’s too showy, you know?”

You hum, “I don’t think so, I mean, not for picture day.” 

Mia turns to Jason, shirt held up against her body. “What do you think?”

He takes a second to bounce back from the surprise of being asked the question, “I, uh…I like it.”

You smile at him as Mia faces you again, “Okay, so this with that flowy lilac skirt?”

“The lilac…yeah, that would be cute.”

She nods pleased, draping the shirt over the back of the armchair in the corner.

You and Jason head out of the room, closing the door on your way out so she can change into her pajamas. 

“Goodnight!” she calls out through the crack in the door. You and Jason return it in sync, clicking the door closed. You hold his hand as you walk past the twins' open door, giving them the same sentiment with Jason’s own following quickly after. They call it out back, louder than necessary, and you close your bedroom door behind the two of you.

You rest against the door and he leans his head back against the wall next to you, glancing over at you. “I won’t remember any of this?” He seems dejected at the idea, not happy to have been handed the world and then having it swiped from his memory immediately after.

You consider it for a second, shaking your head, “I don’t think so.”

He’s quiet for a bit, thinking. “Do you have a marker?”

“A marker?” You look around casually, “Uh, yeah.” You unclip a sharpie from the mini calendar pinned against the wall, tossing it to him. You watch curiously as he holds his forearm out in front of him, popping the lid off with his mouth.

The light in the room starts to dim dramatically until his vision is completely dark. The pull of gravity on his body feels wrong and a pang of fire shoots against the side of his head.   

“Hood.” He hears in the darkness, “Hood.” The commanding voice startles him awake once again. “Are you alright?” 

He blinks up at Batman blearily, feeling like he’s just gotten hit over the head with a chair. “What…what—”

“The Clock King. He threw some sort of device at you. It knocked you out for a few minutes. Are you alright?”

He feels dizzy. “Uh…yeah.”

He cranes his head to glance over at where the Clock King is hunched over on the ground, handcuffed, inspecting the cartridge of his device closely. “Damn it, I knew it wasn’t right. Meant to knock him into the past.” He tells Nightwing like it’s some common mistake they can bond over. 

Nightwing moues at him, “I don’t care?”

Knock him into the—did he go to the future? He can’t get his thoughts in order, let alone summon memories from the future. Frankly, it doesn’t matter that much to him right now—he’s sore and wants to just fall asleep next to you. 

He sits up slowly, grimacing as the pain in his head sharpens for a moment. Batman clasps his hand on his shoulder, holding him steady. “Can you stand?”

Hood grunts and pushes himself up, anchoring his weight against the ground. “Fuck. I’m going home.”

Batman says nothing to protest, instead joining Nightwing and pulling The Clock King up from the ground. Jason stumbles away towards his bike, thankful that he’s only a couple miles away from your apartment. Jesus, the future? You’re not going to believe that shit.

He climbs onto the bike with a groan, pushing up his sleeves as he prepares to start the bike. He doesn’t notice it until he revs it, but when he looks down at his left arm, he sees scribbled on his arm in sharpie:

WE’RE HAPPY

vote: do you have a favorite daughter?

❤️ REBLOGGING = SUPPORTING ❤️

[xjcjuis]

LAZY DAYS

pairing: billie eilish x reader

synopsis: just me craving soft billie fics "with biting as a love language"

warnings: no pronouns used but female implied ; 'sweet girl'

wordcount: 0.8k

a/n: there isn't enough billie fluff (i need a hug from billie)

"don't go yet, please," you whine, eyes tightly clamped shut as you reach over to grab onto billie. unfortunately, your arm falls short and drops back down onto the covers empty.

forcing your eyelids open and momentarily getting blinded by the light of reality, you discover that she was, in fact, not lying beside you but rather sitting at the foot of your bed. she seems to be on a call, with her phone in hand and over her ear. billie's voice was soft, apparently not sensing that you were up and still careful not to wake you.

"babe?" you call out, sort of whispering. your girlfriend turns to you, smiling slightly and then gesturing to the device in her hand. you nod in understanding, waiting for her to hang up.

however, the way-too-familiar bedroom was running out of interesting stuff to look at, so naturally your gaze returns to billie. it's only been a few minutes, but to you it feels like hours, and her phone call still hasn't finished.

with a huff, you gently shove off the covers slipping down your shoulders as you scoot over to your girlfriend. your arms move on their own, hooking underneath her arms and around her waist as you rest your cheek on her back, smiling.

billie's hand instantly rests upon your own around her. you breathe in, inhaling her scent and feeling her warmth flood into you. the soft material of her t-shirt, the strands of her hair lightly tickling your cheek, the comfort her body brings from the hug.

you remain in that position for a moment before you turn your head to rest your chin upon her shoulder instead, staring at the side of her face as she continues to speak softly.

beautiful, was all you could think as your eyes traced her jaw, her skin, her nose, her lashes. perfect, was all your mind screams as you watch her lips move in conversation, pink and soft and so damn kissable if it weren't for the fact that she had an important call.

you puff out air once more, moving back to stare at her shoulder before biting it gently, with her still in your embrace. she jerks a little but relaxes immediately, your actions already familiar.

the corner of your mouth quirks up, now chomping on her shoulder with your lips over your teeth. proud of your little handiwork (aka the small bite marks on her shirt), you end it with a kiss to the cloth of her shirt before settling with nuzzling your face into her neck.

finally her call ends.

"good morning, my love," billie grins, turning around and basically tackling you back onto the bed. she holds you in her arms below her, her expression as soft as the morning sun peeking through the windows. you let out a small shriek of surprise at her actions, placing a hand delicately on her cheek and reaching up to kiss her right on the corner of her lip.

the smile turns into a pout. "you missed, sweet girl."

"hmm, what?" you tease, admiring the way she seemed to glow.

billie rolls her eyes playfully, leaning in to peck your lips. "tease." she taps your nose lovingly, shifting so that the sun shone straight through and onto your face. your eyes shut in instinct, a soft giggle escaping from you when she brushes her lips over your eyelids, just enough to be considered featherlight kisses.

she sits up abruptly, pulling you up with her so that you sat between her legs and quite stuck in her hold. not that you were complaining.

she peppers kisses along your head as you, once again, take her forearm into your mouth and bite. "i just got off call. i have a day-off today."

you stop your attack before she even finishes her sentence, turning to look up at her with starry eyes. "really?"

"mhm." she hums in confirmation and kisses your nose.

you hastily extract yourself from her and kneel on the mattress before her. "can we go out for breakfast?" your eyes are wide with hope, already placing an order in your mind for pancakes and syrup and hot chocolate and perhaps dessert. billie laughs softly at your excitement.

"of course, my love. on me."

with a squeal, you basically fly off the bed to search for something to wear. billie's laugh intensifies, watching you rummage through the closet before speaking up. "hey, aren't you forgetting something?"

you pause mid-swipe, waddling back over to her still sitting on her bed, and kissing her quickly on the lips. as you move away to resume your search, she stops you by the wrist. "uh-uh. not enough."

this time billie kisses you fully, and... you end up being a little late for breakfast.

[gyubakeries]

HIIII it’s renee! anyway what about cough. domestic fluff with mingyu. just a typical day at home, doing chores and cooking and watching something together 😞😞😞 i love sweet gyu

𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁 | k.mg

a/n: IT TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG TO GET TO THIS but thank u for requesting this renee 💗 this has made me want mingyu EVEN MORE 🫡 hope u like this one! sorry for the wait </3

word count: 1.5k contents: mingyu x afab!reader , established relationship , non idol!au , sickeningly sweet , domestic fluff , just a couple of down bad lovers , binge watching stranger things , THERES A SPOILER , cuddling , FLUFFFFF

when you wake up, you're alone. you know this for sure, because your boyfriend's heavy arm isn't laid across your stomach, and the heat radiating from his bare skin isn't there to warm you either.

you sit up in bed, rubbing your eyes as they slowly open and take in the sight of the empty bedroom. and then, you smell coffee. you quickly get out of bed and set off to find your boyfriend.

you make your way out of the bedroom and head to the kitchen, eyes still half-shut with sleep. in the kitchen, you find mingyu pouring fresh, warm coffee into your favorite mug, humming a random tune to himself.

you quietly slip behind him, snaking your arms around warm, sun-kissed skin and nuzzling your cold nose into his back.

"hi lovie, good morning," mingyu's raspy voice greets you, and you press a loud smooch to his back as a reply.

"morning," you croak out, still groggy with sleep. "you made me coffee?" you ask, tiptoeing to peek over mingyu's shoulder.

"yep, gonna get started on breakfast now," mingyu hums, turning around to face you. he doesn't hold back a laugh when he sees your hair sitting atop your head in a mess.

"baby, i told you not to sleep with your hair open," he tsks, like your mother, and starts brushing his fingers through your hair to detangle the knots.

"but it's too much work to put it in a braid," you sigh, closing your eyes and letting mingyu manage your hair. the way his hands gently run through your hair and scratch against your scalp is enough to make you feel drowsy.

soon, the relaxing movements are stopped, and mingyu turns you around to take a picture of your hair from the back to show you.

"mingyu, you're literally barbie," you gasp. somehow he's managed to tame your hair into a beautiful braid that looks better than any you've made your entire life. "you're good at everything."

"you know what i'm the best at doing, though?" mingyu smirks. "you."

"ugh, that wasn't even funny," you groan. "i guess being the least funny person on this planet is your one flaw."

"whatever, you still laugh at my jokes," mingyu sticks his tongue out at you.

"only because i don't want your feelings to get hurt," you tease, and mingyu gasps dramatically.

"you know what? no strawberries for your waffles anymore," mingyu declares, and you immediately put your hands together, begging for his forgiveness.

"we're having waffles for breakfast? gyu, don't take away my strawberries. pleaaaaase?" you plead, and mingyu does a bad job of ignoring you, the barely concealed smile tugging at his lips.

"fine, i'll forgive you. but you need to watch these waffles and make sure they don't burn," mingyu instructs, and you nod resolutely.

mingyu busies himself with washing up the dishes he used, and you busy yourself with..... staring at mingyu.

your boyfriend looks hot, you won't ever deny it. it's impossible for that statement to be untrue, especially with the way the morning sun makes his golden skin glow, the way his messy, soft hair falls over his eyes perfectly, the way his muscles shift as he dries the last bowl-

"y/n!" he yelps, alarmed, and you faintly register the smell of something burning when you turn around and see that the waffles had burnt to a crisp.

"shit shit shit," you mutter, rushing to switch the machine off and carefully opening up the waffle maker to see that the waffles inside definitely looked like they'd seen better days.

"this is, like, the hundredth time you've burnt waffles," mingyu sighs, letting the machine cool before he can scrape the burnt mess out of it. "how do you never learn?"

"it's not my fault!" you pout. "it's your fault for being so distracting. i only forgot about the waffles because i was staring at you."

mingyu's cheeks turn into a bright shade of pink at your blunt comment, and you find it endearing.

unable to stay mad at you, mingyu just feigns annoyance and fetches another pan. "we're having pancakes for breakfast, then."

"with strawberries?" you ask, a hopeful smile plastered on your face.

"with strawberries," mingyu gives in, and nothing makes him happier than the feeling of you hugging him tightly and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

breakfast is a simple ordeal; you sip on your black coffee and finish up all the strawberries on the plate, while mingyu drinks his coffee with loads of milk and sugar, eating up the last pancake before you can.

"gyu, i wanna binge-watch something today," you tell him as you wash your plates. "any ideas?"

"what about stranger things?" he offers, and your eyes light up with excitement.

"oh my god, yes!" you nod. the show was one of your favorites, starting from the plot, to the suspense, and your not-so-subtle crush on steve harrington. "this is why i love you. you're the best."

"so you only love me when i give you good ideas?" mingyu raises an eyebrow, and you nod jokingly. when he starts pouting like a kicked puppy, you apologize and kiss him as compensation.

mingyu can't really complain after that.

—

after you both showered, you find yourself sprawled across mingyu's lap as he loads up netflix on the TV. he's already prepared snacks and ordered pizza for lunch while you took your own sweet time in the shower earlier.

"i don't think i'm ready to see bob die again," you whisper out loud, as the first episode starts playing.

mingyu looks at you at that, taking your hand in his. "i'll hug you through it, don't worry."

"thank you, gyu," you smile. he puckers his lips in an exaggerated pout and you chuckle affectionately before leaning in to kiss him with a loud smooch.

"there, now we can start binge-watching," he nods, satisfied, and you nuzzle into his shoulder.

true to his word, mingyu holds your hand throughout the first three seasons of the show, saving the fourth one for another day. you only take breaks to go to the bathroom or order food, and you skip past some of the less exciting scenes to speed up the process.

both mingyu and you cry when bob is killed, hugging each other tightly as consolation. you're both at the edge of your seats by the time the last scene plays, and then the screen goes black.

while the credits are rolling, you and mingyu lean back on the couch, processing the entire show.

"it's almost 6 a.m.," comes mingyu's shocked voice, and you turn to see the first rays of sunlight filtering in through the living room windows.

"we've been here for, like, 20 hours?" you gasp. you finally register the burning in your eyes and how much your back aches from sitting on the couch for so long.

"imagine if we decided to watch season 4 too," mingyu laughs, and you rub your eyes to stop the burning sensation.

"we're never binge-watching like this again," you tell him, groaning as you stand up from the couch to stretch your limbs.

"you say that, yet we end up doing this once a year," mingyu points out, and you just shoot him a glare.

"you're no better," you say defensively. "you always agree!"

mingyu smiles and gets up from the couch to stand next to you and pull you into a hug. the tension in your muscles seeps out instantly, and you melt in his arms. "i'd be a bad boyfriend if i said no to something that you like."

he feels your lips quirk up into a smile against his chest, and he just squeezes you tighter.

"what would you do if i said you're being a bad boyfriend by not carrying me into the bedroom so we can sleep till afternoon?" you look up at him with a mischievous grin.

"well, then i'd have to correct that," he shrugs, playing along with your teasing. one moment, your feet are on the ground, and the next, you're being hauled up into the air, mingyu's strong arms cradling you close to his chest.

he carries you into the bedroom, bridal style, and the both of you flop down on the bed together, not leaving an inch of space between your bodies. mingyu somehow manages to cover you both with the comforter, because he knows how cold you get without a blanket.

"we should binge-watch harry potter next," you mumble, wrapping your arms around mingyu's torso to cuddle up with him, letting his warmth envelop you.

"okay baby, we'll do it," mingyu chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "for now, let's get some rest, yeah?"

"yeah," you whisper. "goodnight, gyu."

"goodnight, love," he replies, and you raise your head to press another kiss to his lips.

mingyu smiles widely at that, his canines showing through his lips. he retaliates by kissing the tip of your nose, and you giggle.

you fall asleep in his arms by the time the sun is halfway up in the sky. he takes a little more time, just so he can watch the soft sunlight light up your face as you sleep peacefully.

his last thought before he closes his eyes is: twenty hours of netflix, or the rest of his life; mingyu would love to spend it all by your side.

- fin.

taglist: @lecheugo @min-imum @sousydive @livelaughloveseventeen

@unlikelysublimekryptonite @theidontknowmehn @shinwonderful @wonuwrites

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[artinvain]

being fwb with abby !!! NASTY NASTY NASTY !!!!!!

GET INTO TO IT! Kinktober day 8 - orgasm denial!!!!

cw: possesive!abby, orgasm denial, squirting, degradation/dumbification, choking, slapping, spit.

no men, minors, ageless/blank blogs and no fucking zios!!!!!!

abby sets the joint down and turns to look at you, her eyes glassy and narrowed with lust, she spreads her thighs as she leans back on the couch.

"you gonna answer my question sweetpea?" she laughs at your choked cough and watches you roll your eyes. she's always watching you - the way you glossy lips look puckered around the joint. your shorts riding up your soft, thick thighs as you settle onto the couch next to her.

"i thought you were seeing other people too," you swallow from your bottle of water to avoid abby's clenches jaw and hardened eyes.

"actually i'm not -" abby rolls her eyes when you smirk at her, "this isn't funny."

"it is - it was barely a hookup abby and it happened one time." you lay a hand on abby's thigh and rub circles into it with your thumb.

"i don't actually care i just - sexual health you know?" abby looks at the tv instead of at you and that's how you know she's lying.

"don't pretend like this is about health - you're jealous," you say it like an accusation and abby scoffs loudly.

"god no, no - i'm serious i don't care."

"doth protest too much," you pick the joint from between abby's fingers and smoke "i'm glad you don't care - i might meet up with her again."

when you say it, you don't expect the air to grow thick with silence and heavy with tension. it was only half serious but the grip abby lays on your shoulder tells you it's anything but. abby leans in close to you, getting in by your ear, her hands coming up to enclose your neck completely.

"bedroom," she whispers and when she releases you - you're running to the bedroom, stumbling between taking off your clothes because you already know that's how she wants you. You clamber onto the sheets and abby is right behind you, laying her toys at the end of the bed.

"didn't know you were such a slut," abby mumbles, grabbing your ankles and pulling you to the edge of the bed. "figured you could keep your fucking legs closed - what with how you're always begging me to fuck you,"

abby leans down between your thighs so you can't close them and spits on your pussy, using two thick fingers and rub through your folds. "fuck, so pretty," you don't expect her to press the wand to your clit on the highest setting, rubbing your clit in circles.

you yelp with the pain of the immediate and harsh stimulation "abby! fuck slow down," you whine, and abby does let up, she moves the wand away briefly to smack your clit a few times and then pressing the wand onto you again.

"oh sorry baby, it's just cum-sluts like you can't really tell me what to do, you're too busy begging to get fucked and you just -" abby moans at the sight of your eyes clouding over, your head falling back as your body adjusts to the pleasure. "there it is, see? you just get so stupid so fucking quickly,"

you groan when abby sinks two fingers into your now wet cunt, letting them lazily stroke you, and to your surpise, abby isn't as urgent as she usually is. she's taking her time, so slow and precise with her fingers - just letting the wand make you sensitive and -

"fuck, abby can i cum?" you're huffing and about ready to when - "no"

you just about hop off the bed and stare down at abby between your thighs in shock - "abby i'm close - please," abby shakes her head and remover all stimulation so quickly you cry out.

"nope," abby leans over you, "did you take her strap?"

you shake your head and abby smirks, kissing your mouth gently before smacking your cheek and groaning at the shock on your face that turns too quickly into lust. "don't lie to me,"

"m'not," you gasp, going to kiss her but abby gently smacks you again just to hear you moan and she could cum just from seeing that alone.

"such a slut for pain, you'd take anything i give you huh?" abby nods with you, in awe of how overcome with pleasure you already are, "just need someone to take care of this needy fucking pussy," she moans as she sinks two fingers into you, feeling you clench down on her.

"god you're so wet - you this needy f'me all the time? or is this for that other bitch?" abby asks, and curls her fingers deep into you so instead of answering you yelp and pull her in close.

abby chuckles, "you close babe?" her fingers getting just that little bit deeper, rubbing up from the underside of your clit. "you look so pretty when you cum, wanna see it -"

abby kisses down your chest, sucking at your nipples and tugging with her free hand, making marks until she's wrapping her mouth around your clit and suckling, burying her head between your thighs.

"oh fuck!" you whine, thighs tightening around her head "please abby, faster," you groan as she starts to slow down instead

"no - abby please faster," you whine, your body growing cold with your receeding orgasm.

"does she make you feel this good?" abby asks, her fingers speeding up again, so quickly you gargle on your answer again, "n-never," you whimper, your orgasm coming back nearly full throttle, a scream rising in your throat until abby pulls back again, leaving you pent up and restless.

"please, abby please let me cum," your eyes start to tear up, frustration making you whine as abby catches the hand you'd led between your legs to touch yourself.

"you beg so pretty, like the perfect slut," abby kisses your clit and your inner thighs. her tongues sucking at every part of you but your clit.

"please, god this is torture," you cry as abby slowly eases one finger into you, "i know baby, you're taking it so fucking well though, such a good girl." you moan loudly hearing her say it. you knew she was punishing you and when she'd let you have that little bit of validation you spiraled into a cloud of pleasure.

"daddy," you whine, gripping abby's shoulder, your pussy clenching down on her fingers as she rubs your gspot, digits easing slowly in and out but so deep.

"there she is," abby cooes softly at your dazed tone, "hi baby, you're doing so good for me, just one more time yeah?"

you shake your head frantically, your orgasm already coming on and your body is almost painfully pent up, "please let me cum daddy, please - need it," you groan as abby sucks your swollen clit into her mouth circling it with her tongue. when abby hears your breathing get faster and you start to clench down hard on her abby stills her fingers.

"no! fuck please daddy, god please," you cry, tears spilling over at the pain of yet another ruined orgasm. "m'sorry daddy, i won't see her again, please let me cum,"

"i know you won't pretty baby - nah you're a good girl," abby kisses your forehead and smirks at your fucked out face, your hair disheveled from your squirming. "and good girls get to cum, just tell me i'm the only one," abby's chest actually stutters when you answer immediately -

"you are daddy, the only one - only one who makes me feel so good," you yelp as abby starts to lavish your chest in kisses, tugging again at the sensitive peaks. all it takes is her leaning over you, her clothed hips grinding against your pussy. you can feel her heated mound through her boxers and fuck -

"please daddy," you grunt. abby tugs roughly at your nipples at the same time she says - "yeah baby cum for me," her hips grinding against your sensitive cunt and you explode, squirting onto her boxers and the sheets. abby's ears are filled with you singing her praises as you come down, clinging to her.

"it's okay princess, you're okay," abby rubs her hands over your body and kisses every piece of soft flesh she squeezes and touches. "you did so well for me baby, such a good girl," she nuzzles her face into your neck and lets you cling to her until the inevitable she knew was coming. your hips start to buck almost involuntarily -

"need you - need you inside," you bite your lip and abby noses your cheek, kissing it gently. without so many words, abby secures her strap and is leaning back over you, her cock lubed as she sinks into your clenching pussy.

"shit, you look so pretty taking me - always look pretty my baby," abby moans, grabbing the underside of your knees and pressing your thighs to your chest.

"need to fuck you nice and deep, make sure you feel me in your guts for days," abby grunts, her hips snapping hard against you - "don't want you going to anyone else," abby smirks when you yelp shaking your head.

"want you to cum for me baby, don't need to ask just keep feeling good for me yeah?" she groans at the sight of your wetness forming a ring at the base of her cock, "my pretty fuck doll," abby bucks her hips and you cum, falling over the edge of ecstasy.

"good girl," abby cheers and starts to rub your clit with her thumb, she loves to watch your face scrunch up in pleasure, your mouth open wide and brows furrowed as you cry out for her and cum, again.

your wetness is making abby slide in so much easier and fuck the way your moaning and the sight of you, the cock at the base of her clit rubbing and bumping in perfect harmony -- she cums, holding you close and groaning as she finally slows her hips.

you both sigh as abby gathers you into her arms, kicking her strap off. she kisses your forehead and starts to massage your shoulders. "did so good for me baby, you're such a good girl," abby kisses your forehead and smiles fondly as you cuddle into her chest. her heart warming in a way that it really shouldn't - not for her friend.

"thank you abs," you mumble and when she's sure you're completley back -

"are you okay? are we?" she whispers shyly into your ear and you chuckle, hands finding her head and playing with the hair at the nape of her neck.

"yes, abby - we're okay. it was a joke anyway," you bite back a smile, "of course i'm not seeing anyone else."

🫡🏷️ @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @lavendersgirl @emiliabby

(comment to be added to tag list)

[ggomos-maribat]

Double Lives

Damian was certain that his wife was keeping a secret from him.

He trusted her with his life, of course—Marinette had kept a number of things from him in the earlier stages of their relationship, like her experience and trauma in Paris. He knew not to pry, and eventually she opened up. He was glad that some burden was taken off her shoulders.

But this was different. She was deliberately trying not to get caught; she took care to hide her phone from his view, and there were days she'd come home very late. When asked, she'd get irritable but also nervous around him. Damian didn't want to assume things right off the bat, but he did hope she would finally grow comfortable to talk it out with him. And so he resisted using his ‘resources’ to peek into her life—what kind of distrusting partner would he be if he did that?

He knew, too, that he was being awfully hypocritical. He was still yet to sit her down and reveal his vigilante alter ego to her as well as his family's. Damian would swear he planned to rip the bandaid off when they got engaged. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, out of the fear that she'd leave him. As far as he knew, Marinette wanted a normal quiet life after living through the Evil Butterfly Man's reign of terror. Telling her his identity would just put a target on her back, if there wasn't any already after she became a Wayne.

He couldn't imagine his sweet innocent wife exposed to the horrors of vigilantism.

Still, even though he had his own secrets, it felt quite frustrating not to know hers. That was what Damian was thinking one dark night when the door finally opened, signalling her arrival from work.

“Damian?” Her eyes widened. “Why are you still up? You shouldn't have waited for me.”

“It's alright. I couldn't sleep anyways.” And I will be sneaking out for patrol later. He stood up to kiss her cheek—

But froze upon seeing a red mark right at the base of her neck.

Marinette hummed tiredly. “Next time, don't wait for me if you're tired, okay?”

“. . . What's that on your neck?” He dared to ask.

Her hand immediately flew to the spot on her skin. For a split second, her expression changed into a hint of annoyance. “It's—it's . . .” she stammered, “I accidentally hit myself.”

“You hit yourself?”

She nodded meekly.

Damian stared at her for a moment. There was one thing he knew about his wife: she was a bad liar. But she was expert at omitting things, partly because she probably knew he wouldn't interrogate her further. He knew that she was aware it was the vaguest of explanations but she never tried to elaborate.

He mustered out a smile. “Be careful next time.”

She let out a nervous laugh and squeaked out a ‘yes’.

“By the way.” He took a deep breath, “I visited your office this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, and your secretary told me you hadn't punched in for the day yet.”

The silence between them was thick.

“Ah . . .” Damian could practically see the gears turning in her head. “That was . . . erm, I had to run an errand before work! Yeah . . .”

“I see. I was hoping to have lunch with you earlier but it seems that you're busy nowadays.”

She cursed in French under her breath.

“I'm really sorry, Damian.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I'll make time this week. I promise.”

She hurried off to their bedroom, leaving Damian with his thoughts.

He really really didn't want to assume the worst. But his heart was racing and when he looked at the signs, they were clear as day. His mind started to spiral a little, wondering where he could've gone wrong, wondering if he didn't spend enough time on her or if she felt that he wasn't giving enough effort.

But he pushed all those thoughts away and followed her to bed.

***

One Saturday afternoon saw Robin and Superboy in the Watchtower's breakroom, talking about Damian's predicament. He hoped his friend could at least contribute an objective outsider's perspective in his dilemma and encourage him to broach the topic with Marinette.

“She's cheating,” Superboy deadpanned.

“She's—she's not,” he argued back, “Perhaps I am just reading too much into it . . .”

“Um but the hickey? The late night escapades?” Superboy frowned. “I don't know about you, but I don't think there's any other explanation for it.”

Robin bit his tongue. No, it's not possible. He loved Marinette terribly, and he knew—he could feel the same love from her if not more.

His friend sighed, “Look, I know it's hard to believe. Even I don't think M can be . . . unfaithful but you should confront her about it.”

“I can't. I can't face her like that when I am still keeping a secret of my own.”

“Then tell her you're Robin. A secret for a secret, hm?”

Robin didn't even want to think about how messy that conversation would be.

“It's all just about communication,” Superboy continued. “If you're worried she won't accept you, take my mom and dad as an example—”

He stopped talking, indicating that he sensed another presence nearby. Just on cue, a fuming Ladybug stomped into the breakroom, heading straight to one of the refrigerators.

The two men watched as she muttered angrily while looking around for food—Robin could see the clear exhaustion on her tensed figure. The Parisian heroine had joined the Justice League after the Hawkmoth fiasco became public; the heroes were quick to recruit her but not before she voiced out her complaints about the League neglecting her city. Though she hadn't revealed her identity to anyone, she had formed bonds with the other heroes her age, not excluding Robin and Superboy.

Superboy winced when she kicked the fridge door.

Ladybug did a hundred eighty, showing both the fires of hell and sleepless nights in her blue eyes. “You don't happen to have an extra stock of Kryptonite, do you?”

Superboy looked at her warily. “What happened this time?”

“Your dad assigned me to another magic-involved mission!” She tugged at her hair, sitting beside them. “I thought I made it clear I didn't want to be involved in too many missions especially if it's non-miraculous related ones!”

“You could . . . tell him that?”

She shot a sharp glare at them. “You don't think I did? They're insisting it's miraculous related when Constantine hasn't even confirmed anything! Just because Paris was terrorized, it doesn't mean miraculi are going to pop out from everywhere! These missions are affecting my normal life!”

It was a common complaint for heroes who had alternate civilian lives, but Robin was a bit surprised that she was that open about her feelings.

“And—and Batman too!” She pointed a finger at Robin. “I know Monsieur Furry's guilty about the Paris thing and all and me not having a mentor but he keeps checking on my progress after missions liked a damned helicopter parent! “

Before either of them could reply, she continued ranting, “I was going to meet an important client yesterday but they just had to call me in to help with the mission! And then it goes on until freaking midnight! What about my precious sleep?! Then Zatanna accidentally used a spell on me—it hit my neck and now it looks like a hickey!”

Her head dropped onto the table. “How the fuck do I fucking explain that to my husband?!”

Robin and Superboy looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“You—you haven't told your husband that you're a hero?” Superboy asked carefully.

Not lifting up her head, she replied with a muffled voice, “Of course not! I can't do that to him! He's already exposed to enough danger because of his last name! I just can't tell him ‘ hey mon amour so I'm actually that heroine from Paris on top of my emotional PTSD!’”

Robin swallowed. That was Marinette's name for him.

It ticked too many boxes.

He started to subconsciously connect the dots: catching his wife absent at work at the time the magic-wielding team of the JL was away on a mission; Ladybug sharing that she finally linked up messages from her yoyo to her personal phone; his wife coming home late, tired and fatigued from head to toe when all she was supposed to be doing was designing.

“I'm sure he'll come to understand your circumstances,” Superboy consoled.

“He won't.” The heroine sat up, revealing that her eyes were now welling up with tears. “He probably hates me right now because I'm sending the wrong signals. What if he thinks I'm just taking advantage of him for his money? His family already hates me! What if he's filing for a divorce right now?”

Robin felt the nudge from his friend, as if to tell him to do damage control. Superboy abruptly stood up, spouted out an excuse about being called by someone, and left the room to the two of them.

Ladybug sniffed, “Sorry, you probably didn't want to hear all of that.”

“It helps to get your problems off your chest.” Robin awkwardly patted her head. In truth, she was really Marinette, he wanted to pull her into a hug already.

He coughed. “Why—why do you think your husband's family hates you?”

“Oh . . . I don't know, but his father’s always distant. Whenever I'm at a family dinner, they're just very quiet,” she replied sadly. “I know they're good people but I felt like I didn't belong somehow. My husband keeps saying they adore me though.”

Robin wanted to sigh out loud. His father still had his guard up because he believed she was a civilian, hence there was a side of her family they could never show her. It was always quiet due to Alfred's stern lecture about behaving in front of Marinette lest they accidentally spill something they shouldn't.

“It sounds like your husband cares a lot about you,” he told her, “Don't you think he would trust you if you told him the truth?”

“But I can't! I don't know where to begin!” She pursed her lips. “He's always been good to me and he never steps the line even if I'm obviously lying. I just . . . I thought I could tell him before we got married but I was too scared and I didn't want to ruin what we had.”

“But he won't think any differently of you, would he?”

“No . . .”

“Then you have nothing to be afraid of.” He smiled a little. “It may come off as a shock at first but he will accept it in time. You will be stressing yourself out even more if you keep thinking about the worst scenarios.”

She stared at him. “When did you get so wise?”

“Ever since I started thinking about what my wife was doing.”

She tilted her head. “Huh?”

It was unmistakable. Those gleaming blue eyes were Marinette's.

He was such an idiot.

“She keeps coming home late, hides her phone every time I'm near,” he listed, gauging her reaction. “Last night, I found out she hadn't come to her office even when she said she was working, and I caught her with a strange mark on her neck.”

Her eyes slowly widened as she seemed to come to the same realization. The heroine's gloved hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Damian?” she whispered.

He checked if the coast was clear and slowly peeled off his domino mask to show his full face. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you habib –”

He was cut off by her warm lips, her arms winding around his neck. Damian immediately melted into her touch, relieved that they finally divulged their secrets. He wouldn't have to be worried about introducing her to the hero world after all.

He was extremely relieved, in fact, that he hadn't noticed his father and eldest brother stroll into the room.

“ROBIN! Are you cheating on your wife?!”

Robin pulled away from Ladybug, withholding a sigh of exasperation. He put his mask back on and turned around to see Batman looking constipated and Nightwing utterly shocked.

"How could you do that to—to . . ." Nightwing cried out.

"Leave us." He glared.

"Robin—" His father's voice was tinged with disapproval.

"Leave. Us."

Fortunately, the two scurried off. Damian faced his wife, who seemed as flabbergasted. He was worried since it was her identity that was at risk, unless he embraced the unexpected cheating allegations.

"Oh my kwamis," Ladybug said softly, "I called my father-in-law a furry ."

"It's deserved." He rubbed up and down her shoulders. "What do you want to do?"

"Oh um . . ." She ducked her head. "Maybe go home and I'll—I'll explain everything from the beginning."

***

Damian had to recount his life story after his wife shared hers whilst they cuddled in bed. After they talked, he was surprised to learn so many new things about her—he thought he had her memorized already, even before they exchanged vows. At the same time, he was mentally kicking himself for thinking that Marinette was never closely involved in the war against Hawkmoth.

Of course she was Ladybug.

Of course she was a hero.

So while she was spiraling at the number of times she'd unknowingly mocked her in-laws in the suit, he was regretting not telling her the truth sooner. If they'd opened up years ago, he would've stayed by her side during missions, helping her deal with the troubles of having a masked alter egos, and sharing his own experiences with her. A stronger bond would've formed between them, because they both understood the hero's life after all this time.

Not long after, she finally decided she was ready to tell the Waynes who she was. ‘It would do more harm than good if I kept hiding it anyway,’ she reasoned. He did agree, since she was part of the family, both as Ladybug and Marinette. The others would surely be overjoyed (and less overprotective) if they found out that she was a hero. What Damian found strange, however, was Marinette seemed to worry that Bruce's opinion on her would change and he'd become ‘distant’ as Batman as well.

“Remember, Batman is afraid of you,” he had reminded her over and over again.

(And Batman would be ecstatic to discover that Ladybug was his daughter-in-law, but Damian would never tell her that. The caped vigilante had grown fussy over the Parisian heroes as his way of ‘making up’ for the Paris incidents . . . But at the same time, he cowered ever so slightly when Ladybug raised her voice on him. Damian's siblings blamed Ladybug's black hair and blue eyes for triggering the adopt-itis.)

And so Damian and Marinette decided to arrange a family lunch to break the news to everyone. It was then Damian remembered that there was one issue he hadn't resolved yet.

“If you don't tell Marinette today, I'm telling her.” Dick glared at him from across the table.

Damian glanced at his watch. His wife wasn't present yet, and had sent him a message about picking up pastries from Paris first.

“Tt. That would mean revealing our identities, Richard.” He crossed his arms.

“Just because you have the mask on it doesn't mean you can do that to her!” Dick argued. “Does Ladybug even know you're married?! ”

“What did he do to Pixie-pop?” asked Jason.

“He---he—” Dick was once again trembling in anger and disbelief.

“We saw him kissing Ladybug.” It was Bruce who replied. “Damian, I never expected this from you. You will have to talk and apologize to Marinette.”

“You did what?!” Jason stood up so abruptly that the utensils clattered.

“What the fuck?” Tim exclaimed.

Stephanie gasped. “What the hell Damian?”

“Holy shit,” Duke whispered.

Damian could only stare at the entryway of the dining hall, hoping that Marinette would arrive soon. If he was left with his family any longer, they'd be beating him up and disowning him.

“I have . . . a reason,” he said through gritted teeth. He couldn't exactly tell them right off the bat, since Marinette wasn't there yet.

“Open . . . open relationship?” Cass frowned.

Suddenly, a bright light appeared at the ceiling—a portal— and from it, a figure dropped down, much to everyone's shock. Ladybug, unified with the Horse miraculous, grinned at them with an armful of boxes filled with croissants and macarons.

“Ladybug?” Bruce gaped.

“Your daughter-in-law actually.” She lowered the sunglasses, showing her narrowed eyes. “And your worst fucking nightmare.”

“W---What?”

Damian could barely control his laughter, seeing his father frozen.

She detransformed completely and scowled at Bruce. “This is technically your fault, furry old man! If you didn't keep agreeing to send me on those magical missions, I wouldn't be so tired and caused a misunderstanding in the first place.”

Damian didn't have time to shield himself from the eruption of noise on the table. With his wife's theatrical reveal, everyone was in different states of shock. Tim stood up quietly to face a wall with a blank stare, entertaining another existential crisis. Duke choked on the water he was drinking. Jason was crouched on the floor miserably with his hands over his face, perhaps because of the times he complained to Marinette about Ladybug's uptight methods. Dick's jaw was completely unhinged, and he was slapping himself every minute or so. Stephanie passed a hundred dollar bill to Cass.

And Bruce. Poor Bruce was paler than their porcelain plates, speechless and unmoving.

Damian exchanged a wide smile with his wife. He loved her so much.

[hearts4hughes]

a/n: i saw this tiktok and KNEW i had to write something about it. this entire trend is turning my writing wheels😭😭

this was it. the very moment you’d been waiting for. the moment when you could finally prove to rafe that you weren’t just sarah’s best friend. that you could be hot and sexy like the girls he flirted with. hell, this was your chance to erase every embarrassing exchange between you and him beforehand and replace it with something different.

when sarah told you about a cameron family beach day and invited you, you immediately accepted. it wasn’t long before you were at her door clad in your cutest bikini and beach bag in hand. she gushed in excitement, rambling off about all the fun things you could do together. yet, your focus was on rafe as you stared at him out of sarah’s bedroom window.

his muscles flexed as he carried bags into the car. his sad excuse of a shirt exposed the sides of his rock-hard stomach and impeccable arms. your mouth watered as your mind went straight to the gutter.

you quickly snapped yourself out of it when sarah playfully smacked your arm, muttering something about how you were zoning out again. “come on, let’s go before rafe leaves without us.” she teased, grabbing your hand and dragging you downstairs.

the car ride to the beach was nothing short of torture. sarah kept talking a mile a minute, oblivious to the way your eyes kept darting to the rearview mirror to catch glimpses of rafe. he was sitting up front, one hand lazily gripping the steering wheel, the other tapping against his thigh in time with the music blasting through the car. you were convinced he caught you staring a few times, but if he did, he didn’t say anything.

you couldn’t shake the nerves bubbling in your stomach as you stepped out of the car, the warm sand crunching beneath your feet. sarah was already running ahead, dragging her towel and cooler behind her, but you hung back, adjusting the straps of your bikini nervously.

“need help carrying that?” rafe’s voice startled you. you turned to find him standing closer than expected, his signature smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“n-no, i’m good.” you stammered, clutching your bag tighter. smooth, you thought. real smooth.

he raised an eyebrow. “suit yourself.” he said, effortlessly slinging a surfboard over his shoulder before heading down to the water. you watched him go, trying not to let your jaw hit the sand.

a few hours later, after you’d settled in and soaked up the sun, sarah was dragging you into the waves. “you have to at least try surfing,” she insisted, shoving a board into your hands. “rafe’s great at it. he can teach you.”

that was how you ended up waist-deep in the ocean, trying not to panic as rafe waded toward you. he was grinning, the sun highlighting the sharp angles of his face. “alright, you ready to learn, or are you just gonna stand there staring at me?”

you felt your cheeks heat up instantly. “i—I’m ready.” you said, trying to sound confident.

his hands were on your waist, steadying you as you struggled to balance on the board. his voice was low, teasing but encouraging, as he guided you through each step. and when you finally managed to stand up and ride a wave, the feeling was nothing short of euphoric.

you threw your hands in the air, laughing and cheering as the wave carried you to the shore. it wasn’t until you turned back to look at rafe that you noticed his expression had changed. he looked… stunned.

and then it hit you.

the cold breeze against your chest. the way the straps of your bikini top floated beside you in the water.

your bikini top was gone.

your blood ran cold as the realization sank in. you froze, your arms instinctively crossing over your chest, but it was too late. rafe was already swimming toward you, water glistening on his toned chest, his smirk so wide it almost hurt to look at.

“well, that’s one way to celebrate,” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “didn’t know surfing was that freeing.”

“oh my god,” you whispered, face burning hotter than the sun as you tried to back away toward the shore, but rafe cut you off, stepping closer.

“relax,” he said, his tone playful as his eyes flicked down for just a second too long. “it’s not like i’m complaining or anything.”

“rafe!” you hissed, glaring at him as you crossed your arms tighter over your chest. “this is not funny.”

“you’re right. it’s not funny.” he paused, letting his eyes meet yours. “it’s hilarious.”

you let out a frustrated groan and tried to make a run for it, but rafe caught your arm, pulling you to a stop. “hey, hey. i’m kidding,” he said, though the grin on his face didn’t falter. he reached for the shirt draped over his shoulder—a rarity for him to even have one—and handed it to you. “here, cover up. unless you’d rather me keep enjoying the view?”

“you’re the worst,” you muttered, snatching the shirt from his hand and pulling it over your head as quickly as possible. the muscle shirt didn’t cover much than before, but it’d have to work.

“yeah, but you love it,” he shot back, his teasing grin only widening when you glared at him. “besides, you looked great out there— on the board, i mean. though, uh, this new look isn’t bad either.”

you rolled your eyes. “just help me find my top,” you mumbled, desperate to change the subject.

“anything for you,” he said, winking as he turned toward the water. “but if we don’t find it, i’m sure i can think of a few other excuses to keep you in my shirt.”

you blushed, shaking your head as he chuckled. “just get to searching, surfer boy.”

[maybanksprincess]

sexual rhythm

WARNINGS: smut, protected p in v, awkward for a lil minute, pet names, fluff, slight age gap, allusions to aftercare, transitions into rougher sex after a while.

lias note — finally proofread, this is requested by one of my fav mooties, @jjmaybankssurfergf , thank you for the request baby! (lowkey feel like i did this wrong).

pairings: rudy pankow x fem!reader

you can hear the faint sound of the lock clicking on Rudy's bedroom door, as you lay on your back half naked on his bed. he towers over you with a nervous expression plastered on his face. he'd finally got you alone with no interruptions in his shared apartment.

he grabs a condom from his nightstand and tears it open with his teeth, sliding it onto his erect length. you can feel his eyes on you, the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. he clears his throat, and breaks the silence.

"you ready?" he asks, securing the condom, his eyes staring down at you for any hint of discomfort or wariness.

"yeah," you answer, taking a deep breath in, preparing for whats about to come. you both tried having sex before, but it ended up being awkward and feeling uncomfortable due to the lack of communication.

he walks over to his speaker and turns his rock music down on low, making sure it wasn't too loud, and was only background noise. he then hovers over you again, grabbing his cock and pumping it a few times, sliding it between your wet folds, testing the waters.

"Does this feel good?" he asks softly, his soft blue eyes staring down at you, slowly pushing his tip in your hole to see if you pull away. when you nod in approval, he slowly pushes his whole cock in, making sure to be as gentle as possible.

a slight groan is heard from him over the low rock music on his speaker as he buries himself to the hilt, his balls gently tapping your ass in the process.

he slowly rolls his hips into yours, thrusting gently into your wet heat, leaning down to kiss and nip at your neck, leaving soft love bites. after a few thrusts, he lifts his head from your neck to look down at you, seeing your face twisted in pure ecstasy.

"Does that feel okay, baby?" he asks, taking one of his hands away from the side of your head to gently run his hand along your cheek, checking to see if you're uncomfortable.

"yeah," you moan, "feels really good, rudy." you whimper out, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at his cock sliding in and out of your sopping heat, the bedsheets having a small stain beneath the two of you.

"can you go faster?" you ask, shuffling to lay flat on your back again. he nods, his blonde locks falling into his eyes, you bring a hand up to brush them out of the way, looking into his pretty blue eyes.

you can feel him start to speed up, his hips rocking faster against yours, his breathing growing heavier as he fucks you into the mattress of his bed. a small bead of sweat starts to form on his forehead, as he starts to fuck you rough, the headboard hitting the wall with every lewd thrust. thank God chase isn't home.

The bed squeaks as he starts to fuck you deeper, it felt like you were being split in half with the way he was ramming into you, his balls slapping your ass cheeks with every snap of his hips. your nails start clawing at his chest, all his muscles flexing while he pounds into you.

he uses one strong hand to grab your jaw, messily kissing you, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth with ease, he swallows all your moans as his tongue evades your mouth, tasting you all over. he softly bites your lip before mumbling against your lips, "best pussy i ever had mama, who does this pretty pussy belong to?"

"y-you rudy," you squeak against his warm mouth, moaning and babbling as his cock hits that sweet spot inside you over and over and over again.

he brings his hand that was holding your jaw, down to your cunt, rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit, moving it in tight circles. "cum on my cock, beautiful." he groans, his own orgasm not far behind.

he can feel your walls tighten around him, your warm walls squeezing him in. "fuck mama, you're so tight" he groans, throwing his head back, revealing his unmarked neck, his adams apple bobbing as he shoots his hot cum into the condom.

you both lay there for a few moments, before he breaks the comfortable silence. "was that good? not too much?" he asks, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

you gently kiss his cheek, letting out a soft giggle, "it was perfect, baby." you say, intertwining your fingers with his.

he chuckles along with you, pressing a kiss to your forehead in return. he scoops you up in his muscular arms, walking to the bathroom and setting you down on the counter, pressing soft kisses to your lips. " i love you, pretty girl." he mumbles in between smooches.

"i love you too rudy."

[gracieheartspedro]

Nobody Likes A Secret

pairing: no outbreak rich older!joel miller x afab reader.

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

word count: 3k words

description: a rich wealthy playboy who becomes enthralled by his neighbor's daughter. it never ends well when he can not fathom having happiness for himself.

warnings: ANGSTY!!!!!, age gap (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her mid 20s), wealthy!joel, neighbor!joel, reader is pretty naive and delusional, taboo relationship troupe, mentions of parent death, VERY BRIEF SMUT, joel is borderline evil and very mean. joel calls reader "kid". joel is also a liar. talks of having children.

author’s note: I wrote this all in like... two nights. I listened to illicit affair by taylor swift and nobody likes a secret by lizzy mcalpine a lil much and it ended up here. sorry if I make you sad.

You creep into the large 4-car garage, seeing Joel pacing the oil-stained floor. He’s still in his work clothes, but he looks a bit disheveled. His eyes are wild, his face downturned into a deep-set frown. 

“Joel? Everything okay?”

He shakes his head. “He knows.”

You know only one person who would ruin this. 

‘This’ being an 9-month-long affair with your older neighbor. Months and months of meeting in dark corners, hardly ever seeing each other in the light. 

“How?”

Joel fumbles trying to pull his phone out of his pocket, showing you the 5 missed calls from your Dad. You stare at it blankly, tightening your jaw at the possibility that your Dad is too smart for his own good. Shit, he does know, doesn’t he? He throws the phone down on a nearby leather couch that is positioned near a workbench. Joel was pretty good with his hands, but lately his mind has been anywhere but tinkering with wood in his garage. 

“He came over an hour ago. Sat me down and told me that he was getting suspicious of some outings you’ve had over the last couple months. Said he realized you were not going to the places you said you were going to. So he assumed you had a new boyfriend or something. Then last night…”

You curl your hands into a fist. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck,” Joel grumbles, running his hands over his face, dragging his lower lids down in frustration, “He said that if I know anything or see anything, I am to let him know immediately. He’s worried you’re fuckin’ around with the wrong guy.”

You had snuck out of your house last night and tiptoed your way into Joel’s car, which was parked in a nearby cul de sac. He promised you a nice late dinner in the city and then he ravished you in a hotel room you two didn’t even spend the night in. He brought you home around 4 am and you snuck back into your bedroom, ensuring nothing in your home was stirred. When you woke up the next morning, your father left you a note that he wanted to do dinner with you that night. Meaning tonight. 

You know this is detrimental, and while you do not want to freak out immediately, you can not help but feel like someone is stabbing you directly in the chest. Joel’s body language is giving off negative signals, so even though you want to hug him and tell him that you can talk to your Dad, you know it’s not going to change much.

Your eyes well with tears, thinking of how this was going to ruin everything. After months and months, you thought you were being so smart.

“We can’t do this anymore,” He whispers.

And God damn, did Joel hate seeing you cry. 

But the tear-filled eyes you are giving him are warranted. You don’t turn away from him like usual. You never wanted to show him any weakness. 

This time you confront him, your nose turning upward and your eyes full of disdain. 

“You said we were being careful,” You murmur, the salty tears falling down your cheeks.

“Not careful enough.”

The bitterness tastes like blood in your mouth. You want to scream at him but keep an even tone instead, “Joel… Just let me talk to him.”

“You knew where this was gonna end up,” He states plainly, his voice not wavering. 

And maybe he was right, but you enjoyed living in a loved-up delusion. Maybe it was the sex or maybe it was the looks he gave you from across densely populated parties you were forced to go to. You would put on a show long enough to make your father happy and then you would somehow sneak away with Joel. You knew if your father caught you with the much older man, he would lose his mind, so you were always cautious. You made sure the doors were locked. The moans would stay hushed. The car was parked far from your front door. And during the time spent away from the house, you would get a girlfriend to lie for you. You were always so careful. 

“Maybe he suspects it’s someone else.” you try to reassure him, but you know it’s falling on deaf ears.

“You know he knows it’s me.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

Joel rolls his eyes. He knows that your father’s words were simply a warning. If you two continued this schtick, you know better than anyone your father would find out. You knew he already kind of had eyes on you and Joel had caught on to a couple of neighbors watching him from their bedroom windows. He gives your father credit, he was thorough. 

“We have to stop.”

You did not realize how much your heart was banking on making this work. Joel was about 25 years older, so deep down, you knew that no one would accept the relationship. But in your wildest fantasies, you imagined you two would run away together. He had tons of money, you had nothing tying you down, and it could be a perfect escape. You had brought it up one night after you snuck over to his bed and he didn’t explicitly say no. He just giggled and continued tracing circles on your bare back. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, “So you just… don’t want me anymore?”

He huffs, already annoyed you were making it seem like he had a choice.

“It was never gonna work out in the first place, kid.”

You just stare at him. The nickname hit harder than it ever has. After months of sneaking around with you, Joel only ever saw you as that. A kid. 

“Don’t call me that. Ever.”

He notices the rise in your voice and quickly realizes he made a mistake. 

“Listen-”

It’s like every terrible emotion you have ever had comes bubbling to the surface. The resentment you held towards him when he ignored your calls some nights. Or when he refused to get near you at any party. You had your grievances, but you sat there like a good girl and just accepted him the way he was.

It’s like acid in your throat, it burns. 

“No, you listen,” You snap, “You don’t get to play the kid card. You chose this just as much as I did. You told me that my age didn’t matter. You told me that you would want children with me one day. You filled my head with all this bullshit and now when shit gets real, you walk away. You’re a fuckin’ coward, Joel.”

“My reputation and livelihood is on the line for this! You think I don’t still want those things?”

“If you wanted them bad enough, you would fight for me.”

It makes his face drop. His furrowed eyebrows relax and his mouth droops down into a subtle frown. 

You do not know where to go from here. The atmosphere in his garage rises with tension, words just hanging in the air. 

The Annual Miller Christmas Party was the talk of the town. Everyone who received an invitation would proudly display the cardstock on their huge fridges and show their uninvited neighbors to brag. When Joel came over to hand deliver you and your father’s invitations, he told you to wear something sparkly. 

You searched everywhere for the perfect gown for weeks. He had only really shown you attention when forced to be in the same room as you, so you needed to be eye-catching. He was never the guy to wave to you when he was leaving for work or say a quiet hello at the grocery store. Joel was a very regimented man. He never strayed away from his routine which was usually work, hookups with random women, and sleep. He never kept a woman around for too long. You noticed the circulation of women changed every month or so. Joel never wanted to settle down. He had tried that once 15 years ago and his ex ended up with half of his company. 

But you always loved the way the man carried him. Despite his playboy behavior, you were entranced with him. You always thought he was handsome and when you came home at 25 to help your mother who had fallen sick, you knew that your crush had morphed into borderline obsession. Living next to him would be dangerous.

The dress you chose was red, which was fitting for the occasion. And of course, it was sparkly. Just what Joel ordered. 

You spent all day preparing for the evening and when you showed up on his front door on your Father’s arm, he could not peel his eyes away. You were so radiant and perfect. The twinkle in your eyes shone brighter than the glitter on your gown. 

During the night, you drank a couple of glasses of champagne and chatted up some of your Father’s colleagues. You notice Joel’s eyes following you every so often. You can vividly remember thinking, “This man wants me so bad.”

That night Joel cornered you in the hallway by the bathroom. He asked you if you were interested in literature, but really he just wanted you alone in his study. You being you, you enthusiastically said yes and followed him down the unlit corridor. Once he shut the huge wooden double doors, you knew that you would be slipping out of that gown for him in no time. 

And that’s exactly what happened. 

He drove you crazy, peppering kisses all down your body. He would groan every time he heard your shaky breath, knowing that the effect he had on you would become a dependence for him. 

When he first pressed into you, it was different than any other woman he’s ever been with. You did not throw your head back, moaning obscenities. Instead, you stared into his eyes and nodded, encouraging him to continue his movements. It was so sensual and passionate, by the time you two finished, he held you in his arms for 20 minutes. He was never one for pillow talk or aftercare, so he surprised himself.

You were different than any other woman he had ever encountered. 

You had slipped over to his front door a couple of days after the Christmas party, knocking to ask his assistant if he was home. When she brought you into his office, he told his assistant to shut the door on the way out. His eyes never left yours as you bantered to him. He loved your confidence. He bent you over his desk after 10 minutes, tugging up your skirt and swatting your ass for showing up on his doorstep looking “this beautiful”. 

Joel always made you feel so good. His dirty talk went to Harvard. He could make you cum over and over with his husky Southern accent. Every time he called you “darlin’” or “princess”, you would come undone. 

A couple of months into the entanglement, your Mother’s health deteriorated overnight. You and your Father stayed by her side when she took her last breaths. It was devastating, seeing the woman you looked up to your entire life slowly slip away. You felt like a shell of a person, unable to really harbor any feeling other than pain.

Joel called you and let you know he would not be able to attend the funeral due to work commitments. You did not care, understanding that there’s never a good time for someone to die and he had no obligation to come. You arrived at the funeral home and saw a huge arrangement of purple and blue flowers. On the card, was scribbled in his handwriting. 

“What a breath of fresh air she was. Thinking of her family, always. Joel Miller.”

When it was time for the burial, you watched a large SUV pull up right before the final words were going to be spoken. Joel hopped out the back and slowly approached, keeping his distance from you and the rest of the attendees. Once she was lowered into the ground, Joel came over to give his condolences to your inconsolable father. 

You stayed back, watching everyone except him leave. You sat in the first row of fold-out chairs, watching them throw dirt over her casket. He sat down next to you, never saying anything. His hand extended out, touching your hand that was resting on your lap. It was an unspoken thing, but you never felt more seen in your entire life. He somehow knew exactly what you needed. 

Someone next to you.

After a couple of months, you felt more like yourself. You called him one night, asking if he was available for a drive. He parked his truck in your usual meet-up spot. You crawled up into the passenger seat and asked him to drive. You did not care where. You two caught up and once he could tell you were getting back to some semblance of yourself, he made his move. He was stopped at a red light when he placed his hand on your thigh. It was the first time you had sex in his truck. That night kickstarted the affair again, which led to the secret meetings in hotel rooms. You two got more bold with your rendezvous, even taking a weekend to the mountains. You don’t even remember the lie you told your Father as to why you were gone. 

Joel always thought you were capable. He admired you for being such a dynamic woman. To be so strong and delicate at the same time was unheard of. Even though you were much younger than him, you were well-versed in everything. You were professional and smart when it came to business. All the while, you were polite and empathetic. He would frequently come to you when he needed advice about work or an opinion on something ethical. He enjoyed hearing you ramble on about things you were passionate about. And God, did he love your laugh. 

He did not expect to keep you around as long as he did. But your body was like a drug and Joel had a nasty habit. You were always eager and available, and after a while, Joel started thinking maybe it was too much all at once. When you became comfortable enough to sleep over in his bed and make him breakfast, he knew his world was tilted on its axis. 

He needed to find a way to ruin it for himself, as he had done so many times before. 

He “slipped up” one night. As he and his chatty neighbor Jeff sat outside and smoked cigars, he spoke about his desire for you. He didn’t particularly say that you two were together, but simply insinuated that he would like to have you alone. And the rumors spread quickly. Soon enough a little birdie was in your Dad’s ear, feeding him information. 

Joel kept up the act with you, even though it was not really an act. He did like you, hell, he may have even loved you. But he did not want you to need him. So when people started paying more attention to you and him, he knew his plan was set in motion. In no time, it would all come crashing down. 

“If your Dad takes this to the board, I will lose my company. Do you understand that?”

You hated that you understood stupid business jargon. You knew that Joel losing his company would be devastating. But at this point, you could not care less. Because for as long as your affair, you watched his walls fall away. He had let you in more than once and in your delusional state, you believed for a second that he would choose you over his job. 

You clench your teeth as you suck in a sharp breath, tears still streaming down your warm face. 

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then we just end it. This has already gone too far.”

You finally turn away from him, your eyes falling to the concrete floor. As soon as he says those words, chills run down your arms. 

“You know Joel…” You drift off, using your shirt sleeve as a tissue. You wipe away a couple of tears and glare back up at him, “I would have given up everything in my life for this. My job. My relationship with my father. Everything. And the fact that you won’t even give me a chance to talk to my Dad to see if he could spare you and this whole charade, really fucking hurts. I’m not worth that to you and that… That’s what hurts the most.”

“Babe-”

“No. You don’t get to call me that anymore. You don’t get to call me anything.”

The tears flow again as you watch him exhale, his hands on his hips. His hair is unkept and the tie he’s wearing has been loosened. 

“I’m sorry,” Is all he can say while your lip quivers. You are trying not to lose it completely. 

You just shake your head, “No. You’re not sorry.”

He was. He was sorry, but he could not let you ruin everything. 

Joel would soon know that you were everything. And as you left the back door that evening, leaving behind the scent of your perfume, he knew that the smell would somehow taint his sheets, even though you had not been in them for weeks. He already started to miss the feeling of your lips. When he tried to go about his evening, he swore he would see you in the shadows of his large house. He even thought he heard your laugh. You were already haunting him even though the death of your relationship happened just hours before. 

You moved on after a couple of years. Met a guy at your 9-5, settled down, and popped out a few kiddos. Some nights you would lie awake, wondering to yourself if Joel was really happy. You never learned the truth of his deceit. After all, your Father was just grateful that his warning to Joel led to his desired outcome, which was him being gone from your life entirely. 

And Joel would be haunted for the rest of his life. No woman. No drugs. No party. Nothing ever filled the void you left behind. And it was all his fault. Just like it always had been.

[stark-ironman]

Dropping in to say your Hugh fics are everything to me. I was wondering if you could maybe do one where he takes care of reader when shes on her period Smut+fluff 😭😭😭

Period

A/N: perfect timing for this ask because I'm currently dealing with this pain in the ass of a period.

Warnings: period pains, mentions of pain pills (whatever you use for period pains), period sex, aftercare in the end .

You wake up with an intense pain shooting through your legs and stomach, groaning loudly as you curl up into a ball, feeling Hugh stir beside you. "Love, are you okay?" He asks pulling you close to him. You shake your head no and he immediately notice your period has started. "Let me run you a bath right quick, okay?" He kisses your forehead and runs to the bathroom to get the bath ready.

Your pain intensifies and you silently start crying, burying your head in the mattress and Hugh comes back out, feeling his heart break into a million of pieces seeing you in pain. "C'mon love, the bath should help you a little." He picks you up and carries you to the bathroom, setting you down to help you undress before placing you in the tub.

He hands you two pain pills and some water, running his hand through your hair as you take it. "I'm going to go change the sheets but I'll be right back. Call me if you need anything." Hugh kisses your head and stands up, running to change the sheets. You lay in the tub with your head against the side, listening to him shuffle around in the bedroom.

He walks back in with some clothes, setting them down before crouching back down next to you. "How do you feel?" He asks. "Like shit. It hurts so bad." You whimper, grabbing a hold of his hand. "Is there anything I can do to help you feel better? " His hand slides in the water, rubbing your stomach. "Help me up, please?" You pout, holding your arms up causing him to chuckle.

Hugh picks you up and wraps a towel around you, sitting you on the toilet. "Let's get you dressed and I'll cook some breakfast." He says grabbing the clothes and helping you get dressed, making you notice he grabbed you a pair of his sweatpants and hoodie, leading you back to the bedroom.

Once in the bed, you kiss him softly and pull him on top of you as you deepen the kiss. He catches himself to make sure he doesn't land on your stomach, pulling away slowly. "Love, you're hurting and I don't want to cause you anymore pain." He whispers against your lips. "It will make me feel better, I promise. Look it up if you don't believe me." You beg, looking up at him and seeing his eyes soften.

"Are you sure?" You nod, "Okay, darling. Anything for you." He says kissing you again, slotting himself in between your thighs. His mouth trails across your jaw and down to your neck, slowly lifting your hoodie up to your chest.

"You're so beautiful, darling." Hugh breaths out as he stares down at you, taking his own shirt off. "Let me go get a towel." He kisses you again and runs to the bathroom, returning with a smile as he helps you out of your pants and panties, setting the towel underneath you then discards his own clothes.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks again, worry filled in his eyes. "I'm positive, baby. Please." You tell him as you grab his face. Hugh nods and slides into you, both of you moaning softly as your walls enclose around him. He starts moving slowly and you wrap your legs around his waist, kissing him deeply.

"Hugh, hon, I'm not going to break. Please fuck me." You moan against his lips, sliding your tongue across his bottom lip as a growl rumbles from deep inside him. He moves your legs up to his shoulders, pounding into you at a brutal pace. Your hands grab ahold of his arms as your back arches, your period causing you to be more sensitive than normal, and you feel your orgasm getting close.

"H-Hugh.. I'm fixing to..." He nods and you dig your nails into him as your release hits, his thumb moving to your clit and rubbing in hopes for another one. "C'mon, darling. One more for me." He coaxs, gripping your breast with his other and he flicks your nipple.

Before you can respond, another orgasm rapidly hits and his hips move slow but go deep, your walls clench tightly around him as he releases inside of you. Hugh leans down and kisses you softly, pulling out causing you to whimper at the loss as he lays beside you, holding you close.

You both lay there, the smell of sex and blood quickly filling the air as Hugh takes a deep breath. "Are you feeling okay?" He asks, his heart racing while he holds you. "I'm perfect. Thank you." You say kissing his chest. "Anything for you, darling."

He stands up and walks out of the room, leaving you there with his hoodie still on but bare down below on a towel and he comes back with some fruit, water, and a wet rag. Hugh makes sure to take his time to clean you, helping put your underwear and his pants back on before tossing the towel in the bathroom and throwing a pair of sweatpants on, as well.

He lays beside you and places the bowl of fruit in between you two. "Here, darling. Eat something so you don't get sick." You smile as he feeds you a strawberry then hands you the remote to the TV.

You both sit there enjoying each other's company and you can't help but stare at him lovingly knowing he will do anything he can for you.