#but them i made a thing with half walls that i loved so much

[thesweetestofdreams]

hey gorgeous! I was thinking abt a reader who is a bit of a gym rat and her and James become friends in the gym and every day after the gym he tells rem and siri abt this girl and then one day they all meet somewhere (maybe like grocers i dont know) and the other boys fall in love and then next time they are at the gym James asks her to go on a date with all of them in hogsmeade or something cute like that and they all start going out!!!! Obviously just ignore if that sounded horrific, love you!!💞💞

poly!marauders x reader

A/N: OMg thank you so so much for your request!! I can’t tell you how excited it made me and you’re so incredibly kind! I really hope you enjoy and I hope I did your idea justice. Also let me know if you’d want a part two. I have some ideas!

You poke your head around the corner, eyes searching until you find him. A brick wall of a human, well more like a Greek god. You wave when James’ eyes meet yours in the mirror. He drops his weights and you try not to look at his arms, his hands. 

"You're going lighter," you tease instead, gesturing to his abandoned weights. 

"And you're late." He smiles at you.

"Ugh, I know." Little does he know you were obsessing over every part of your outfit and fussing with your hair. You were down bad, but you knew you couldn't be blamed entirely. You'd seen the looks of other girls, and guys, in the gym whenever James was around, yet somehow you seemed to have garnered his attention.

It all started when he saved you from an unsavory man at the bench press. You'd asked him to spot you, but apparently, he had taken that as more of an invitation than it was. He'd followed you around the gym the entire time, ranting on and on about aspects of himself that he thought made him attractive. After a half-hour of cold shoulder, he still didn't back off. He kept trying to put his hand on your waist, persistently asking for your phone number. 

"Take a hint dude," James said, pulling the man's hand off your waist. He tried to brush James off saying something about how you wanted him there. James made eye contact with you and the look you gave was all he needed. "Seriously man, shove off." Finally, after a particularly withering look from James, the man backed off cursing you for being a tease. 

"Thanks," you said, a hand pressed to your lips, clearly shaken. The whole thing made him incredibly angry. He watched your gaze follow the man across the gym, nervous.

"I'm at the weights if you want to join." The rest was history. Since then James made the gym a safe place for friendly competition and you wouldn't trade it for the world. Even if you did dream of the idea of having something more. 

James had been pretty transparent from the beginning about his relationship. The way he talked about them you felt like you practically knew his boyfriends. He talked about the two almost every chance he got. The way he lit up each time you asked about them, you could tell he loved them. 

"Oh don't let me forget I have something for you," he said from his station at the treadmill next to you. "I was telling Remus about that book you were telling me about, and he said he had one you might like." 

The idea of him talking about you in his home to his boyfriend made your head swim. "You were talking about me?" you half laugh half puff. 

"Of course," he said looking at you like it was the silliest question in the world. "I talk about them when I'm with you." 

By the end of it you were both sweaty messes, but you still let him hang an arm on your shoulder as you left. 

That night James is cooking dinner, and he can’t get his mind off of you. “I'm telling you guys. She's borderline angelic. I mean how can anyone look that good after a workout for real?” 

“I’ve seen you after a good workout Jamesie,” Sirius says, eyes salacious across the kitchen island. 

Pointedly ignoring him, James continues, “She’s just so nice, the sweetest really. I wish you guys could meet her.” He strains noodles over the sink, the steam clouding his glasses. 

“I’m sure she’s lovely, and probably twice as gorgeous as you described, but Remus and I do not do gyms, dear.” 

“You could always invite her for dinner,” Remus says, stirring sauce on the stove. 

“Oh yeah, come on over to my flat and meet my boyfriends even though we never really see each other outside the gym and I could totally be a murderer for all you know.”

“But you’re not a murderer,” Sirius laughs. 

“And how is she supposed to know that?” James pours the pasta into the sauce as Remus stirs.

“If you’re too shy to ask, that’s fine love,” Remus says, knowing exactly what he’s doing. 

You think the grocery stockers are out to get you. Your favorite granola is always on the highest shelf and this time it’s pushed back ungodly far. You're about to climb the shelves when you hear someone behind you. 

“I can help,” the man says. Of course he has to be drop dead gorgeous with honey brown hair and a worn sweater. 

“Thanks,” you say, trying not to fumble over yourself. 

“Oi Moony, they had your ice cream,” you hear from down the aisle, and to your surprise, you know that voice. 

“James?” you call peering over the shoulder of the man trying to hand you your granola. When you see the dark haired man next to James the pieces start to fall into place. There’s James next to what has to be Sirius and the man in front of you must be…

“Remus, I see you’ve met y/n,” James says walking to the two of you. “He must be putting the moves on you. He would just let us struggle.” James winks at you. Remus, on the other hand, is still reeling from your smile. It was like watching the way he feels when he sees James and Sirius played out right on your pretty features. 

Your almost star struck. It feels like meeting celebrities the way James talks about them. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say, smiling wide, hugging the granola to your chest. “James talks about you all the time.” It’s a funny feeling to have faces to add to all the stories you’ve heard before. 

“Funny, we could say the same thing,” Sirius says, giving James a look you don’t quite understand. 

“Sirius was starting to get jealous,” Remus jokes. 

“Yeah, of James,” Sirius says, winking at you. His flirtatious persona falters for a second when you laugh. He’s caught by the sound, and once it's over he already wants to hear it again. James was right, you're magic. “Who’d have thought we’d find an angel in the cereal aisle of all places.”

“Or the gym.” James smiles. 

They’re flirting with you. It feels nice you have to admit, but it’s starting to make your cheeks burn and your head spin.

“It’s been so lovely to meet you,” you say to them both, “but sadly I have to run.” It’s almost like they deflate. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” James asks, expectant. 

“Of course,” you smile, “don’t be late, it’s leg day.” He gives a dramatic groan, but you see his smile never falter. 

As you leave you hear James say, “I told you.” 

James is all smiles the next day, well he’s usually pretty smiley, but he seems particularly bright today. You got there early just to tease him but his expression winds you. 

“How are you?” James always asks like he truly wants to know. 

You set your shoulders, hands on your hips, “ready to crush you.” He answers with a hearty laugh and you fall into the same comfortable routine you’re used to. First is warm up squats. 

“Remus and Sirius were quite taken with you.” You try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It’s not really working. 

“Me? You’re the ones who could be models.” You hope your flustering comes across closer to being winded. You notice James has stopped and now he’s just standing at your side. “Flattery doesn’t get you out of squats James,” you say pointing a finger to the ground.

“Actually I wanted to ask you something,” he says, he looks shy for once, a hand pulling at the back of his neck. You feel your stomach swoop, but you’re not trying to get your hopes up. 

“Of course,” you say, feeling somewhat like a deer in headlights. 

“Well, we were wondering… I mean I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now, but now they’re really on me. Anyways,” his gaze meets yours, “would you like to go out sometime… with us?” 

“Like a date?” you ask wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” he smiles, “Only if you’d want to though.” You’ve never seen him actually look nervous before. It’s endearing really, charming even.

“Yes,” you say, you’re practically bouncing on your feet, newly energized. “I’d really like that.” 

James smiles wide, it’s a smile he wears with his whole face, crinkling eyes and dimpled cheeks. Just like that James is critiquing your form and things are back to normal, but really they probably just changed forever. 

Hogsmeade is bustling with Autumn. Leaves flood the sides of the streets from where they flutter off stray branches. It’s like a scene from the movies except you’re in it and the scene is yours. You could be floating for all you know. 

Sirius is just as charming as James said. The four of you come upon a wishing well, and Sirius declares that you have to toss it over your shoulder for the wish to come true. After four successful tosses he looks at you conspiratorially. “What’d you wish for?” He smiles at you with a tilt of his head like he thinks he could guess, and you feel a blush burning your cheeks. 

“She can’t tell you, Pads, it won’t come true,” Remus says, shaking his head as he falls into step behind you. Remus asks you about the book he recommended. Bashful, you confess you haven’t finished. He feigns shock but it’s short lived. 

“That’s okay, no spoilers then, for now.” He points a finger in warning. “I can’t make any promises for next time.” Next time, you really like the sound of next time. 

As the night marches forward and the weather grows colder you find yourselves in the three broomsticks, steaming butterbeer warming you from the inside out. Talking to them is borderline dizzying. You’ve never had such undivided attention. Remus listens to everything you say like he’s taking notes, and Sirius like he’s drinking you in, hanging off of everything you say. He has a sharpness to his eyes that would be intense if he wasn’t practically melting into James. James smiles like he has everything in the world.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 28

Dick Grayson + Markings (hickeys, bruises, tattoos)

Insert that one dove meme that’s like “gazing lovingly at his gigantic angry wife” but its Dick and the Reader whos a former criminal. I eat up all size difference, so, big reader :3c.

I may have had tom hardy in the back of my mind during this.

2024 kinktober masterlist

Dick loved a lot of things about his lover, the list was way too long for him to state right then and there. Hell, he could probably go on for hours about how much he loved you. He loved your personality, how you always acted grumpy and mean, but you cared so much under all the walls you had to build during your life.

He loved how big your hands were, and how they dwarfed his, and Dick wasn’t a small guy either. He loved how some of your teeth were chipped or slightly crooked from how many fights you have been in, or that one of your ears if permanently bigger than the other because of fighting. He loved how you saved your smiles for him, your real smiles and not just the crooked smirks you gave others.

He loved your muscles and how big you were, well, everywhere. From height, to width, to just bulk in general. You may not be the most flexible, but Dick is flexible enough for the both of you, so you don’t need to bend your legs or arms too wildly when you guys are together.

And most importantly, he loved your tattoos. They were kinda cheesy, in your words anyways. They clearly screamed “I got these tattoos when I was 17 and started gangbanging”, at least the first ones you got did. The ones you got later on as well as coverups have a sense of taste, at the very least they look good on you.

Dick couldn’t forget about your strength either, and how easily you left bruises on him. His all-time favourite is the shape of your fingers on his hips, knowing how easily you could move him around, fold him in half or spread his legs until you got what you wanted.

It was against all his bat training, but Dick had started wanting tattoos too because of you, something he regularly whined about just because he could. Every time he saw you wandering around the apartment in your baggy basketball shorts, or worn thin sweats, muscular tattooed torso on display. Well, Dick always made sure to whistle and appreciate the sight a little, before he would slump against your back, grope your pecs and whine about the ink in your skin.

You didn’t care much about what he did, if Dick got tattoos or not. Part of you understood the whole identifying thing about it, having been caught by cops multiple times based on the fact that you had tattoos all the way up your neck. But if that’s what he wanted, then who was Batman to stop him.

Maybe you were a bad influence, as some part of Dick always wanted to defy Bruce in one way or another if he could get away with it. And its not like a little tattoo would be hard to hide or anything, he just needed to get it done a place that most people wouldn’t look.

You weren’t a real tattoo artist, having never gotten the title or anything. But you had done enough tattoos on yourself and others to know what’s up and how to care for them, so it should be no surprise when Dick wanted you to be the one to put the tattoo on him.

All you needed to do was sit back and wait for Dick to put the stencil on and lay down on the spot you prepared. You hadn’t expected him to choose your initials for his stencil, or for him to place it on his inner thighs, near the crevice where the thigh became his hips. It was a nice spot to hide it, sure, but it was also so close to his… everything. You had a feeling hed put it on his taint if he could, and part of you almost asked only to hold yourself back.

Instead, you two got to work, Dicks leg draped provocatively over one of your broad muscular shoulders, your love rubbing his foot up and down your shoulder blades as you did quick work of the tattoo. It wasn’t anything big or difficult, what distracted you the most was Dicks twitching and squirming, or the tiny huffs and hums he let out.

“What?” Dick huffed as you looked up at him with an unamused raised brow, seeing how hard he had gotten from something as small as a tattoo. “It’s a normal bodily reaction” your lover pouted, only for you to shake your head and stand up to clean up the things you used to tattoo him, as well as wash your hands.

“Its really not. But you aren’t normal babe” you grunt, shooting Dick another unamused look as you hear the slick noise of him touching himself. Vigilantes truly had crazy stamina from your experience, even if your experience was only Dick, but he got worked up so easily and never knew when to control himself when it was just you two.

“Really?” you snort out with an upwards pull at your lips, as you pat your hands dry on a towel. “You… take your shirt off” your partner demands, his voice a tone higher than usual as his hand works himself in quick short flicks, as Dick gropes at his pecs with the other.

“Oh? I’m a dancer now?” you jab, even if you don’t mean it to sound confrontational, taking your shirt off in the meantime. You didn’t need to do more than flex and stand there, Dick seemingly putting in all the effort as he worked himself into a panting groaning mess.

Having someone so attracted to you was always a bit of a humbling and flustering experience. You knew you were attractive to certain people, but that was mainly those people into the whole “big dangerous criminal” look you had going on, even if you didn’t mean too. But it never felt the same as what Dick seemed to see in you.

He just needed to see you to get off to you, hell, some days he didn’t even need to see you and thinking was enough. If you had left bruises and hickeys on him the days before, then Dick always just needed to press at them and think about you to push himself over the edge.

Some may call it unhealthy to be so obsessed with his own boyfriend, but Dick could care less. You treated him well, fucked him so good he cried in pleasure just thinking about it, and you loved him because you wanted too and not because someone ordered it, or you wanted to use him.

It did annoy you a little to see him cumming all over his own torso, abs flexing, and jaw clenched, right after you had just cleaned him up. At least he got none of it on his new tattoo, even if you feared the sweat he must have been producing would bother it.

“You just have to help me keep and eye on it” he snickers as you lift his leg to make sure everything is as it should be, and put a cover over it so it can heal a little before Dick can walk around with it. “You can help me with something else first” you snicker, easily picking Dick up and throwing him over one of your broad shoulders, your lover picking up on where you were going quickly.

And yeah, maybe tattooing your partner was hot, or maybe it was all the hickeys and bruises you left on him, or just the fact that Dick could get off just looking at your tattoo covered body flexing. But it had gotten blood pumping for you too, and maybe you couldn’t fuck him or his thighs for a while, but Dick always seemed more than willing to offer up his mouth or pecs.

[gojoscinnamonroll]

warnings: MDNI + AGELESS BLOGS DNI, f! reader, getting it from the back, unprotected p in v, jealousy (f! reader), pet names, mentions of starting a family :,) , 'toru recording you (idk the term for it sowwy) other than that, half fluff & half smut hehe

popstar bf! satoru who writes (almost every) song about you because he can't help how head over heels in love he is with beautiful you.

popstar bf! satoru who begs for you to leave wine nude colored kisses on his cheek as a final accessory before he goes out on stage before every show, "pretty pleeeeeease my pretty girl? i can't perform yet until my signature accessory is on"

popstar bf! satoru who brings you to every show and whenever you aren't able to make it, makes one of his security guards record the whole thing for you to watch later.

popstar bf! satoru who is sure to mention you in every interview and talk show he's featured in & always make sure to let the world know how much you are his biggest inspiration.

popstar bf! satoru who has always been so so so grateful that you have been by his side for his entire dream and never gave up on him at all ever since he started writing music in the classrooms of jujutsu high.

popstar bf! satoru who knows there is always a fan or groupie around somewhere, everywhere that you and him go. he never lets it bother him because you, you are the only one he has his sights on and if anything, follows you around like some cartoon character floating behind you and drooling with heart eyes as if you're the popstar.

but the only problem?

is that you can't help but shake the feeling how much it pesters you when you can't even enjoy some personal time with him without some fan always trying to flirt and get in his pants right in front of you. you've always been so elated to see him get the recognition and praise he's worked so hard for when his precious fans come up to him and ask for a picture or autograph, but girls like this? you can't help but feel like crashing out because how known does he have to make it that he's all yours?? but don't worry because

popstar bf! satoru who is always so observant of you, notices when you start letting the bothersome fangirls and groupies get to your head. "princess, please don't let them mess with that pretty head of yours or worry about what they say about us, okay? i want you to always know that none of them has anything on you. it's always going to be me and you forever , and i'll do anything i can to show the world that."

and he's true to his words because backstage in the dressing room before his next show,

popstar bf! satoru has you in the mirror looking back at him in a state of bliss as he has your hair in a soft grip and sliding his thick and veiny length in and out of your dripping cunny. "it's all yours my pretty baby, i belong to you and you only." he heavily breathed in your ear.

and that's when a lightbulb lit up over his head.

he reached over for his phone that was by your hands holding onto the dressing room table for stability and opened up the voice memo app.

popstar bf! satoru who whispered in your ear, "you sound so beautiful taking this cock baby, surprised youuu aren't the popstar singer, g'nna make this the intro or background vocals to my next song mhmm." his charming words in your ear only made you more aroused than you already were and he felt it too, the way that your walls started to cling onto him like it didn't want him to ever leave or move. "ah!- fuck! don't worry baby i'm not g- going anywhere." he groaned in ecstasy as you watched him throw his head of fluffy, snowy, white hair back in the mirror.

popstar bf! satoru who is so pussy drunk off of you that he decides now is the time he wants to start a family with you. " 'm gonna give you a baby, you just f- feel so good, one wouldn't hurt right? p- please say yes mama" he started to pant. he was coming so close.

"mmh, y- yes 'toru, give it to me, fuck! i wanna have your baby!"

popstar bf! satoru who fills you up so much with hot, white ribbons of his seed at the same time as you spasming all over his length. once the both of you come down from your high, he cleans up your leaky mess with the warm moist towels provided in the dressing room, and you help him finish getting ready for his show.

popstar bf! satoru who watches you in adoration as you style his hair sitting face him on the vanity table, "let's start thinking of ways we can announce baby gojo!! what do you say? mommy?" as he kissed you on your tummy.

reblogs & likes are very much appreciated!

[em-ontv]

Reach for me.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!reader

Summary: he couldn’t love—or didn’t want to love, and you loved too much, so he did what he does best—push people away, push you away.

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol consumption, reference to physical violence (not to reader), internal conflict/self-loathing, self-sabotage (Ben), no use of y/n, English isn't my first language

A/n: okay, I was suppose to be working on 'sing a song for me" part 2 but I am very very stuck so I decided to write this. I promise it'll come out soon, I know it's been so long :'(

Word count: 1.2k

You thought you'd seen the worst of him already. The anger, the bitter sarcasm that he tossed carelessly, the silent stretches that left you feeling invisible. And it wasn't as though Ben was ever easy to love. He was a wreck half the time, and he did everything to make sure you knew you were disposable.

He had been in plenty of beds, all warmth and fleeting sighs—but empty. Nights were easy—it was everything that came after that he had no patience for.

Commitment? Stability? It wasn't his thing. He wasn’t the settling-down type, he’d tell himself. And he sure wasn’t made for a "forever." And yet… he’d come back to you, again and again, as if some part of him couldn’t help it. You, who’d been there in all those small, ordinary moments. The kind of quiet loyalty he didn’t know what to do with.

So, Ben had this way of making every little kindness of yours seem like it was nothing. A late-night meal you made him? "That all you got?" He would spit it right out. Patience with his anger? He'd scoff and say, "What, you really think you can fix me?"

And when you'd touch him, hand on his shoulder or your fingers tracing a line across his jaw, he'd look away, just enough so you'd see the faintest flicker of something. But then it would be gone, and he'd shut down again, like all the times before.

But you loved him anyway.

For some messed-up reason, you could see through it. Even when he pushed you away, you stayed. Patient, offering a love he didn't deserve—and he knew it himself.

Maybe it was your patience that made him resent you, that gentleness in your eyes when he spat venom at you. He had gotten used to people leaving the second they saw what a monster he could be, the second he showed them the violence he kept just under the surface. But you stayed, and he both loved and hated you for it, because you made him feel things he'd tried so hard to bury. And somewhere deep down, that terrified him.

Because Ben did love you. That was the worst part. He'd feel it sneak up on him in the quiet moments, when you were sleeping beside him, or laughing at something stupid he said or something he'd mumbled. He felt it every time he reached for you. He loved you in a way that made him feel vulnerable and open, like he had nothing left to hide.

Then came the night that changed everything. A night you'd never forget. When he came back stumbling in, blood on his knuckles and bruises across his jaw—he had gotten back from a fight. You took one look at him and knew he was aiming for another fight with you, eager to burn the only good thing he had left just to prove that he could.

He sneered at you, and you just waited, waited for him to burn out. And he did.

The sharpness and anger in his eyes burned till it was nothing but a wavering sight of lost and hurt, his body slumping against the wall and he couldn't bother to look into your eyes again. He might have broken down.

But then he did what he did best. Push people away.

"You think you love me? Fuckin' waste of time. I don't love, sweetheart. And it's pathetic that you keep hangin' on like this, thinking you're special." he spat, eyes filled with resentment when his eyes met yours again.

You held his gaze and didn't flinch. "I know you don't mean that."

That was when he snapped. His voice went cold, the kind of anger that ran deep. "Maybe you're just too stupid to get it. I don't want you here. Don't need you lookin' at me like I'm some fuckin' wounded dog." His words were harsh, but he knew they were bullshit, just another excuse he used to push you away.

And it worked. It worked.

Ben saw the way tears started to well up in your eyes as you stared at him, and that was what finally made him feel something close to regret. But he couldn't go back now. Couldn't unsay it. It would have been too painful to admit the truth, to admit that he was terrified.

So you left. Quietly, without another word, because there was nothing left to say. You just gathered your things, gave him one last look, and walked out, leaving him alone in that dimly lit apartment.

He'd won, hadn't he?

He had pushed you away. He got what he wanted. No more vulnerability, no more of that insufferable feeling of being known and loved despite everything he hated about himself.

He told himself he'd feel fine. After all, he'd done this before. He'd been alone, and he'd always been better for it. But lying in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, he realized the silence around him had changed. It wasn't a silence he was used to—it was hollow, cold in a way he couldn't ignore.

Days passed, and Ben tried to drown it out, with alcohol, with meaningless fights he'd pick, with anything that might numb the ache, but they all just made it worse.

He'd find himself in the bathroom, throwing up from one too many drinks, and he almost missed the feeling of your hand on his back, rubbing soothingly as he heaved, your touch steady and comforting, even though he reeked of liquor and shame. When he was done, you'd wipe his face with a cold washcloth, taking care of him like he wasn't just some disaster you walked into.

He'd lie on the couch, afterward, barely conscious, the side of his head pressed against your lap as you stroked his hair. Even through that kind of haze, he'd feel your hand smoothing over his forehead, your thumb brushing against his temple.

Now he was throwing up by himself, sick and alone, and how he wished you were here with him right now. He'd lift his head up and catch himself looking over his shoulder, as if expecting you to be there for him, a hand rubbing his back through it all, like before. But you weren't.

He hated it. Hated how much he wanted that same kind of comfort again, that sense of security he let himself get used to. The same kind he didn't know he craved until you were gone. But most of all, he hated himself more for needing it.

He had pushed you away, and he really didn't have anyone to blame but himself, didn't he?

So he sat there, taking in the silence, the first time he's felt so... alone. He let himself feel it, the way you weren't there with him anymore. All the hurt and vulnerability, the pain he’d spent his life trying to shove down. He was alone, and he'd done it to himself. Because loving you had terrified him more than anything, and instead of facing that fear, he destroyed the one good thing he's ever had.

In the end, he did the one thing he was best at—and that was pushing you away.

[hockeyboysimagines]

Love so sweet

Pairings: Arber Xhekaj x OC(Tabitha Hawkins)

Warnings: Sex, mentions of sex, angst, toxicity, language.

I know I said I wasn’t posting anything new but I have such bad writers block that this was all I could do💁🏼‍♀️ Hope you guys enjoy it🤍

“Well you can either come get your shit or I can light it on fire. Up to you.”

Arber was laughing on the other end of the phone “I’ll come get it later.”

“I’ll leave it on the porch.” She hit the red hang up button before he could answer and chucked her phone on the couch with a loud angry “UGH!”

This was their 100th breakup or something and it got worse and more difficult each time. She had this masochistic complex apparently that made her put herself through this over and over.

When things were good, they were great. When things were bad?

Yikes.

War was more peaceful.

She put the box on the porch and slammed the door, making her way angrily through the house.

She threw herself down on her bed, a bed they’d just been in the day before yesterday and closed her eyes. She could still smell his cologne on her sheets and she wondered how long it would take for it to fade. The breakups never lasted long enough for it to go away before he was back in it, and sometimes she wondered if it would be easier to stay broken up if she wasn’t reminded of him every night they weren’t together. The longest stretch of time, a week a half, hadn’t been enough to get rid of it even with two washes. She didn’t really want it to fade. It was the only thing that got her through the few days she spent without him.

As crazy as it sounded though, if she had known things would be this way with him she would still go home with him that first night every single time. She loved him, maybe too much, and she would sacrifice her peace if it meant she got to keep him. Not because she didn’t want anyone else to have him, but because she loved Arber more than anything and losing him would be like cutting her own heart out. Messy and painful.

She glanced over at her walls that were full of pictures of her and Arber and she felt hot tears prick at her eyes. Why they couldn’t be like they were in the pictures all the time was beyond her. It wasn’t fair. Things had been going so well lately she supposed she should have seen this coming. She’d heard down the line that Arber had been out at the bar flirting with some girl. It had made her so angry she called him, cursed him out and the blocked his phone number for several hours. When she’d calmed down enough to tell him to come get his things she hasn’t even let him explain himself before she ripped into him again. Whatever he had to say wouldn’t change how she was feeling. She hadn’t even asked him if it was true. Deep down, she knew it wasn’t, but it wasn’t the first time she’d heard it and she was starting to believe it. It was hard, the position she was in with him. Guys before him were just guys. But Arber had an elevated status, especially here in Montreal. Everyone knew him, girls threw themselves at him, and while he never indulged them, it still filled her with anxiety and paranoia every time he went out with the guys and she didn’t go. But when she was there and it happened it enraged her to the point where she wanted to commit a crime. It was a no win situation for everyone but especially her. His teammates, who she knew loved her, assured her till they turned blue that he never even looked at girls and he hadn’t since they met. They told her she was being silly and that they would be truthful with her if he was. She believed them mostly, but it had gotten so bad at one point that Cole and Kirby had showed up at her house and say he’s down to talk with her.

“Tabitha.” Cole said leaning forward “I’m telling you whatever you heard is a lie. I swear on my mother.”

“Yeah I swear on his mother too.” Kirby said bumping her shoulder.

She laughed and wiped under her eyes as Cole continued with a small smile “Arber isn’t fucking any girls and if he was, you can be sure I’d tell you and then beat him up.”

“You’d beat him up PLEASE.” Kirby said rolling his eyes “We’d find someone to beat him up.”

It had made things better for a while but the rumors killed her. She spent more time crying over fake news than she didn’t and she tried to keep most of it to herself but it bubbled over a lot and Arber usually suffered for it. She knew that she was the problem most of the time but it was out of her control now. Arber loved her and she knew it, but she always felt she was on the brink of losing him. But when things were good, she almost forgot the bad. Being with Arber was a gift. He was so wonderful to her and made her feel like the prettiest girl in the world. She only wished that she believed it like he did.

She felt nauseous, mad, and mentally exhausted. Then, she remembered she hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon and the anxiety of the breakup was churning the acid in her stomach like a spoon in coffee, bubbling occasionally to remind her that it could turn into vomit at any minute.

But the idea of getting up and walking to the kitchen made her wanna cry so she stayed put, swallowing down the nausea and closing her eyes. Her weight sank down into her mattress the longer she was there and her stomach began to settle. She was so tired and her eyes slipped closed as she took deep even breaths.

Much better she thought to herself as she felt her nerves begin to die down and she fell back into normal Tabitha, sending Tabitha the raging bitch back to wherever she came from. What a relief. A heavy feeling came over her and she wondered for a second if she would fall asleep. Every time she had one her episodes she got so tired and hoped this time she’d actually fall asleep so she could miss him coming for his things all together.

No such luck of course.

She wasn’t sure how long she was laying there but she heard his truck pull up, and then the sound of a key in the lock so she got up. Was he kidding? She had clearly said his things were on the porch.

She came around the corner and found Arber in the doorway and frowned at him, arms across her chest. “What are you doing? I put your stuff on the porch.” It came out meaner than she meant for it to, and she winced at her own harshness. She was always mad until she saw him and then all her anger went out the window. More than anything she had hoped he would leave and not come in at all so she could be mad and cry in peace.

Of course he didn’t.

He rolled his eyes and tossed the her house key on the table “Returning this.”

Ouch

“Great. Thanks. Bye.” She snapped.

He chuckled “That’s all I get? Okay then. Here’s your stuff.” He pushed a box at her with his foot “I think I got it all. If anything’s missing just text me I guess.”

“Sure.” She said with a shrug knowing she would end up texting him because she was stupid.

The air in her house was awkward and heavy as they stared at each other before he cleared his throat “Well see you. I have somewhere to be.”

“What?”

“I’m going out with the guys.”

Her stomach tightened and she looked at him surprised. It wasn’t unlike Arber to say he was doing stuff with the guys and then not actually do anything. It also wasn’t unlike Arber to say he was doing stuff with the guys and then leave early. Both of those things usually coincided with a breakup, and filled Tabitha with anxiety. Though she’d accused him of it on more than one occasion without any real evidence, Arber wasn’t a cheater.

She cleared her throat “Oh? Already. Well I hope you have a good time…where?” She didn’t know why she even asked, because as this was a breakup, she shouldn’t have cared. But not knowing where he was going would fill her with anxiety for the rest of the night.

“Why do you care Tabitha?” He asked holding one hand out.

She shrugged “Just wondering-“

“You broke up with me remember? Why does it matter what I’m doing.” He was frowning at her, eyebrows furrowed, but his eyes didn’t show he was angry. He looked sad. She hated making him sad and she found herself doing it more often than not.

“It doesn’t. Can you just get out now.” She crossed her arms and motioned to the door with her chin. All the rage she’d swallowed down earlier was beginning to bubble back up and she wanted him to leave before she exploded. She hated yelling at him, and always felt like a psycho when it was over. He never called her that, but Tabitha hated the way he looked at her when she was flipping out.

“Absolutely. Don’t call me.” He said with a nod and a step towards the door.

“Ha. I don’t plan on ever calling you again. Enjoy single life.”

“You know I don’t get you.” He stopped and shook his head “You break up with me, tell me to get my stuff and then pick a fight with me.”

“I’m not picking a fight with you. I could care less what you do. Go ruin some other girls life.”

The minute the words left her she regretted them, covering her mouth, and felt even worse when she saw hurt cloud his face. Even though they were broken up, the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. Especially when they were both hurting enough.

He nodded slowly “So I ruined your life yeah? Okay.” He braced a hand on the door handle and turned it.

“That’s not-Arber. That’s not what I meant to say I-“

“Save it. You’ve said enough for me.” He looked upset, not angry and turned away from her but she crossed the floor and stopped him, bracing a hand on the frame to block his way. Realistically he could have moved her arm with a finger and left but he stopped and that gave her hope. Maybe he didn’t want to leave. Or maybe he was going to turn to her and finally tell her he’d had enough of the fighting and wanted to end things for good. That would be her absolute worst nightmare come to life. She wasn’t even sure what she would do if that ever happened.

“I didn’t mean that.” She said looking up at him.

He looked at the wall above her head frowning “But you said it.” He said quietly before he looked down at her “Do you really feel like I ruined your life?”

“No of course I don’t I just said it cuz I was angry and I’m all mixed up and I don’t know why I get like this. I’m sorry I just-I’m just sorry.” She looked at her feet swiping at a tear that had spilled down her cheek and sniffled. She heard him sigh and then his arms wrapped around her.

“Don’t cry.” He rested his chin on the top of her head and they stood that way for a few moments “Hey please don’t cry.”

She looked up as tears slipped over her waterline and trickled down her cheeks “I didn’t mean that.”

She didn’t mean that. Arber had made her life better from the minute he came into it. Though the fighting was hard, it was worth it to have him around. She hated that those words had come out of her mouth. Hurting Arbers feelings wasn’t easy and she remembered every single time she had. It left a lasting impression on her and she always said she would never do it again and yet here she was.

He looked down at her “I know you didn’t. It’s okay.”

Her eyes bounced between his and his mouth several times before he couldn’t take it anymore and leaned in.

A tale as old as time with them.

Like a lit match on gasoline they stumbled back to her bedroom, and Arber one hand tossed her on the mattress, yanking his shirt over his head with the other one in one fluid movement. She pulled at her shirt and threw it across the room and it landed on the lampshade, engulfing the room in semi darkness. She sat up, pulling him towards her by the waistband of his jeans and sprung the button and the zipper off them. He stepped out and nodded for her to move up the bed so he could pull hers off. His rough and calloused fingers moved down the skin of her legs as he slid her jeans over her feet, leaving her in a pair of pink panties and a matching bra. Though Tabitha and Arber had a lot of sex, she always felt exposed in front of him. Like each time was the first time. She felt a redness come to her cheeks as he reached a hand forward and ghosted a finger down her neck before splaying his hand across her chest to push her backwards, moving over top of her.

“You know I love you right?” Arber said against her neck, tongue sliding over her skin.

“Yes.” She gasped out, nails digging into his skin.

“Good. Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Tabitha relaxed under him eyes closing, as he reached down, pushing one leg wider, and bringing the other one up into an arch. He ran a hand gently down her face, before it traveled down and closed on her throat. Her whole body was shaking, goosebumps blooming across her skin, heart pounding out of her chest.

He gripped the skin of her legs tightly as he eased in agonizingly slow and bottomed out, letting out a long low noise before he pulled out again. Tabitha sucked in a breath and locked her back up, fingers gripping the sheets as he pushed back in more firmly, and locked her leg around his hip. His hand squeezed her neck gently as he moved finding a rhythm. Tabitha was overwhelmed for a minute, the high of the sex and the fight was almost too much. She closed her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her, lips moving slowly against hers and then down her neck.

“Look at me.” He said hand moving from her neck to her jaw and holding it in place.

Her right leg was bent at an uncomfortable angle and the sheet was bunched under her back painfully but he was giving it to her so good she wanted to scream out in pleasure, but because she was still mad at him she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. She gripped the skin of his lower back and drug her nails across it hard. She heard him let out a hiss of pain and before she could even smile he bit down on her collarbone hard.

“Ow Arber!” She reached a hand up and slapped him, missing his cheek and hitting him in the jaw.

He smiled “You know what I like.” He he whispered as he let his head fall into her neck, hair tickling her skin. He moved his lips across her jaw to her mouth, tongue sweeping across her lower lip as he kissed her deeply, weight pressing down on top of her.

Damn him she thought as she felt tension build in her stomach. It would have been so much easier to stay mad at him if he was ugly or a bad fuck but he was neither and she couldn’t even think straight as she surged closer to her orgasm, sweat sheening across her stomach and chest. Arber tangled his fingers in her hair, and pushed deeper than he had before, his signature move and she felt that all too familiar feeling of falling off the ledge and closed her eyes. Pleasure washed over her in waves as she fell into euphoria underneath him. His body grew heavy on top of hers, and after a moment he pulled out slowly, and laid down next to her.

She opened her eyes and saw him looking at her.

She sat up, arms holding the sheet tightly across her chest. She had the beginnings of a hickey on her collarbone and her hair was a mess. She scooted away from him.

“You okay?” He asked awkwardly glancing at her.

She stared at him for another second and rolled away from him wordlessly. He hated this part. After sex for them when things were good was great. But when they were arguing it almost always meant she gave him the cold shoulder. He usually hung around for a while till she decided she wasn’t mad at him anymore.

Though sometimes that lasted for hours.

He laid there a second looking at her back and shook his head disappointed with himself for giving it up so easy. His mom had always said he was stubborn but with Tabitha he had no resolve. He just couldn’t say no to her, or stay away from her. Even though she had broken up with him this time, there had been other times where he ended it and he still found himself at her apartment or finding some way to get in contact with her. At this point in their relationship they were so entangle he wasn’t sure he could get away from her even if he wanted to.

Not that he did of course.

She drove him every way except up, but to be in her presence was to be completely intoxicated by her.

Tabitha had peaked his interest the second he saw her. Tall and willowy in build, long shiny hair, big white teeth, and an attitude that made Satan look like a house pet.

She’d picked him up in a bar with a big smile and a few hair flips and nearly a year later they were here. She was both the best and the worst woman he’d ever met.

There was two Tabitha’s and he felt pretty fortunate to know both of them. Under all the attitude, she could be real sweet when it was just them. There was no feeling quite like the one he got when she smiled at him, or reached for his hand, or pushed her face into his neck right before she fell asleep. Though she had the tendency to get under his skin, she didn’t really have any major flaws.

The worst part about her was her friends. They were awful, and they hated him, and truly they never gave him a chance to begin with. They decided after that first breakup that he was a sleazebag and there was nothing he could do to rehab his image no matter how hard he tried so he gave up. He avoided them like the plague, making sure to never be around when they were if he didn’t have to be. His friends were a little more forgiving thankfully. His teammates he sometimes thought would take her side over his if one of their breakups ever became permanent. His parents loved her even more than the team did, and she’d fit right into his life in Hamilton when she’d made the trip home with him last spring. She was blunt, funny and charming and magnetic enough to draw people in and make them wanna stay, him included. No one was perfect, but to him she came pretty close.

And as much stress as the back and forth the relationship brought to him, he couldn’t let her go. The idea of her with someone other than him made him wanna throw up and rage, so instead he put up with the fights and breakups. It sounded bad but it was all true. He really did love Tabitha. In fact he loved her too much, and he wanted to spend forever with her. He didn’t love fighting with her, but he would deal with it till he died if it meant she wasn’t with anyone else.

It felt a little selfish if he was honest. He wondered sometimes if someone else could make her happier than he could. Maybe he was the problem and it would be best to let her be with someone who could do for her what he obviously couldn’t. He’d even suggested it to her once and it had made her cry for nearly 10 minutes and he felt so bad he never suggested it again.

He reached a hand out and ran it through the hair behind her ear, wondering if she was really sleeping or faking so he’d leave her alone, when he heard his phone buzz twice.

Are you coming out?

He read Cole’s message and bit his lip thinking for a minute No probably not. Not feeling it. Going to stay in tonight.

Okay tell Tabitha I said hi haha

Fuck off.

He set his phone down right as she began to stir.

She half turned “I thought you said you were going out with the guys.” She looked relieved to find him still next to her in bed and rolled over to face him fully.

He shrugged and reached a hand out to run it down her shoulder “I was going to but…I figured I can just go out with them when we break up next week.”

She grinned and made a face “Ha ha.”

“Kidding. I’d prefer we not break up next week or anymore at all maybe? I’m getting tired of fighting with you like this.”

She nodded and reached a finger forward to trace the scar on his collarbone “Me too. Sorry.”

He shrugged “It’s okay.

It was silent for a few moments as she stared at him before she leaned her head down to peer at him “And you are sorry as well?”

He leaned back “Me? Sorry for what? You broke up with me, I returned your things, and now here we are.”

Tabitha sat up, eyebrows knitting together over her eyes and let out a breath “I broke up with you because of something you did. So yes you should be sorry.”

He frowned “What did I do? Whatever you heard from whoever you heard it from is a complete lie, like it usually is. Stop listening to other people.” He said annunciating each word with a small smack from one hand to another “I don’t understand why you can’t just ask me about something you hear instead of freaking out about stuff. I mean Jesus Christ Tabitha why are you trusting other people instead of me.”

“Because-“

“No I’ll tell you why.” He said cutting her off and sitting up “Because you let whatever insecurity this is eat you alive until you can’t take it anymore and you blow up on me for nothing.”

“So it’s all my fault?” She said pointing at herself.

“I didn’t say that. It’s me too, but this time I didn’t do anything. Let me ask you this. Do you really think that if I didn’t love you or didn’t want to be here that I would be? I could go out and pick some girl up right now and yet here I am. Fighting with you. Again.” He said throwing his hands up and shaking his head.

“Well since your so confident in your abilities then there’s the door.” She reached down and picked up his pants, shirt and boxers and heaved them at him, narrowly missing his head and yanked the blanket off him to wrap it around herself “Thanks for coming have a nice night. Out.” She pointed at the doorway.

“Whatever. Fuck this.” He pulled his clothing on and then shoes, slamming the door as he left. He got into his truck and gripped the wheel, resisting the urge to punch it and breathed several breaths through his nose.

This relationship was going to be the death of him.

[elizzsush]

I love you?| Tim Drake X Reader

Tim Drake X Reader

— How can you mourn someone you never truly knew?

AU: None Rating: SFW

Note: Check out this post for context! Tim is a bit of a stalker, but he always has been so its in character. ________________________________

The first thing Tim ever did after meeting you was run a background check.

It had become second nature at that point. A habit he picked up when he was younger that just stuck. Tim had an obsessive personality, so it was a natural habit- or maybe he forced this habit on himself. He's always been one to bite off more than he can chew and then force himself too sallow.

You checked all the boxes. Funny, beautiful, nice to be around, easy to get along with, clean background, you could handle yourself in a fight. You told him you took self defense classes which made sense in Gotham- and had a promising future. Everything a Wayne would be expected to look for in a partner.

It was a bonus that you had a crush on him. It made it easy.

Tim Drake, the smart and handsome boy in your class. It was natural that when he asked you to go out with him, you'd say yes.

Tim was a pretty calculated person, because of his... nighttime activities he had also gotten into the habit of never allowing much room for error. He planned ahead to even minor details.

It was because of all these things you and Tim began your relationship.

“We had a date… We’re are you?” Another reason you and Tim stayed together. You were unbelievably patient. He saw it when he came rushing into the nice restaurant he booked for the two of you- regular clothes and a hastily bought slightly ruined bouquet. All while you sat in a nice dress, a half eaten meal in front of you. You weren’t the type to blow up and get upset, you kept your feelings inside and that worked for him.

Funnily- err, no… horribly enough, Tim never told you why he was late for every other date. Instead he choose a simpler much easier route. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find my keys.”

It worked because no matter how shallow or hard to believe the lies were… you took them. Took them and smiled while you tried to forget about it and enjoy the rest of the night with your boyfriend.

Often it felt like going through the motions with you. You’d smile and enjoy the time you spent with the boy and then wave him goodbye. Being with Tim… it felt so surface level. It felt lonely… Gifts were used as an excuse to not spend real… physical time with you. So, you’d just smile at the flowers you got at your door and the teddy bear, even if they were stereotypical nonpersonal things to give a partner.

While you didn’t know If you loved your own boyfriend, you knew you admired him. You admired how he kept himself in shape despite how busy he was, how he managed all his work with the side projects he kept up with- how he juggled his family. All of it. You admired how he seemed to work for what he had.

You admired how he always seemed so tired. Too tired to properly hide the aspects he didn't want you to see. But you chose to not see them. Not let him know you saw through it. Not giving anything away he didn't want.

Still, all those things kept him so… distant. Like a wall being put up in front of you, hiding him away.

Would it be clingy to tell him to call more?

He was already so busy; how did he juggle you with his life? It seemed hard. At times you thought he was cheating on you but with how public he and you were… it was a fleeting thought. Did Tim even enjoy the time you two did have together?

You’d often question your relationship with the Wayne boy.

You questioned a lot of things. Some you’d question only later. Later when you awoke from the coma that… that monster put you in.

But before that... before any of that. “Catwomen got your tongue?” You’d giggle and poke the boy's shoulder. He was definitely upset today; you'd blame the lack of sleep- he blames your curiosity. “Hey, talk to me..?”

“I’m sorry, I’m kind of busy right now.” He frowned slapping your hand your touch away and you could only pout to hide the hurt in your chest.

.

.

The first time Tim held you hand your cheeks hurt from smiling.

.

.

The worst part of everything to Tim. He didn't even know if he did love you.

There was exactly ten times Tim wished he told you it. Once he did, mostly to get you off his back. Did that make him a horrible person?

He liked you. He liked how easy you were. He liked how you trusted him. He liked how you let him lie to you. He liked how your felt against him, how you would get up to get him another energy drink instead of nagging him about his health. Not that you weren't concerned about the amount of caffeine he consumed you had been clear you were...

He liked when he was a little more careless, having you against him while he typed away on his computer. You holding his drink for him, head on his shoulder, just tired enough to not see what he was really working on. he thought at least... He liked having you against him when he got back... When he saw you again he liked having you around. He enjoyed feeling you against him, your skin on his... Hold you close and just... feel. Feel your body heat against his when he'd get back from patrolling those cold Gotham nights. Rip that same old suit off and climb into bed, embrace that skin to skin contact he so easily grew addicted too.

It was a funny joke with Gothamites that Tim Drake, the son of Bruce Wayne was a coffee addict. Tim had an obsessive personality, so it wasn't out of character. Every post with him in it had a mug, which never helped with the so-called rumors.

As he scrolled on his phone, he didn't even notice the mugs slowly disappearing. Instead, you were on his arm in every photo... Huh...

He didn't know if he loved you. He probably never would anymore... He probably didn't. I mean, what kind of man scrolls on his phone while holding the hand of their supposed lover? Especially when you were hooked up to wires...

But, it hurt too look at you. See you in that state. Not knowing if you'd wake up. The ache in his chest... It lessened when he adverted his eyes and stared at his phone.

If his touch was the sun, you were the earth. If he was your sun, that meant he failed you. When the sun combusts, the earth will die, and the sun combusted, broke under the pleasure.

He should've been a better boyfriend...

If he was, he would have at least known what kind of flowers to bring you...

Roses... felt too basic. To... impersonal.

___________________________________________

A/N: I hate hate hate hate my writing! Bleh. This all felt tooooo flat.

[aliengirl]

Jade had a tier 1 tiny home, later a tier 2 and then a tier 3. Now we are officially upgrading to a full house and instead of just expanding the original one or picking one already made, im decided to build one myself and IM IN LOVE

[jedi-bird]

I am home. I have showered and I'm now lying down with a heating pad. The urge to cry is a lot less now that I've gotten to snuggle the calico for a few minutes and eaten food. I had a really really really good falafel, which made me happy because I've been trying to find a good one for a while; most have been either too spicy or too greasy, so this one being very crispy, well seasoned, and just a hint of burning was perfect for me. As of right now, there are no plans for tomorrow, which feels weird but nice. Unfortunately, it's too early to take another pain pill and I really don't want to have to get up again and eat more food, so I'm going to hope I won't need it tonight.

[chlopieno]

.

vent ahead, sorry

[bettsfic]

one of the best decisions i've ever made was to stop arguing.

i'd always been an arguer. i was defensive about everything and mindlessly contrary. it wasn't all my fault; i was (and still am) talked down to and patronized a lot, and when you live your life that way, you become kind of a raw nerve and dedicate a lot of energy to trying to prove yourself. someone even told me once, "it's just fun messing with you. you get so upset."

at 23, i was working in an environment where about a half dozen middle aged conservative men were always telling me what to do and explaining things to me. i either argued with them when they said heinous things or stewed about it for hours or even days. and so my new year's resolution one year was simply: no arguing.

it felt a little like defeat at first, like i was no longer standing up for what i believed in, even though no matter how right i was or how much proof i had for my claims, no one had ever been swayed by anything i told them. part of that was because they had no respect for me and didn't take me seriously; the other part was the simple truth that arguments are almost never productive. when someone says something and you immediately reply with, "you're wrong and here's why," a wall goes up and nothing can go over it.

i couldn't just let these men talk at me though, so i started asking questions. not leading questions, not with an intention to prove a point or walk them into a corner. i genuinely wanted to understand how they came to shape the opinions they held. i realized that understanding and agreeing are two different things, and just because i seek to understand doesn't mean i condone.

a truly fascinating thing happened: these men walked into corners all by themselves. it turns out nobody had ever actually tasked them with speaking their opinions aloud to a neutral audience. no one had ever been sincerely curious about them and their views. sure, their loved ones probably asked, "how are you doing?" all the time as a show of affection, but that's much different than, "what do you think?"

knowing what i know now, i think that's true of everyone. how many people ask you for your opinion and listen to what you have to say without speaking their opinion back to you? without judging you? how many people actively and intentionally try to understand you?

it's been over ten years since my resolution and i think i can count the arguments i've gotten into on one hand. one finger, even. it's amazing what happens when someone tries to rile you up, pick a fight with you, and your only response is, "can you elaborate on that?"

you can work someone into a very open and vulnerable state when you ask questions. they eventually run out of their usual talking points and move into the personal. when i do this, it's not like therapy; i'm not trying to help anyone. and it's not like teaching; i'm not trying to educate anyone. i just want to understand how people reach the conclusions they've come to. even after all these years of asking questions and not arguing, it still amazes me how few people in this world feel understood, and how easy it is to get them to open up when you say, "i want to know what you think."

[pearlzier]

𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀sleepy gf quiet gamer bf, smut⠀ 𓈒⠀⠀✧

"that's it, baby, that's it, there we go, that's my girl," matt groans softly as you sink down onto his cock, the soft, wet squelching sound making his thighs tense faintly beneath you. he almost whimpers at the sight of you so blissed out, so sleepy but needy for him to fuck you. you'd woken up minutes before, soaked with need. he was surprised, to realise how wet you were, all because of him. but he was on call with his friends, so the two of you needed to be quiet.

being quiet was most definitely not your thing.

you were characteristically loud when in bed with matt. it wasn't your fault, necessarily. matt made you see fucking stars. so the blame for your borderline pornographic moans couldn't be placed solely on you. it was as much matt's fault as it was yours. as much as matt loved your pretty sounds, he also didn't want his friends overhearing the two of you when he was supposed to be focused on winning.

"gotta be quiet, ma," matt grunts, realising his friends are getting a little suspicious of how long his mic had been turned off. he would've kept it off the whole time so he could fuck your tight little hole as much as he wanted to, as much as the two of you wanted, but still. "don't want them to hear you, do you? hear how good you feel when i fuck you, huh?" you shake your head, to respond, but also to try shake away some of your drowsiness.

"don't want them to hear me," you agree quietly, slowly grinding your hips as you simultaneously shimmied a little more out of your fluffy pajama bottoms, the soft material brushing against matt's thighs causing him to groan a little bit. "gonna turn my mic back on, okay? gotta stay quiet for me." he turns it on, as promised, and he laughs at his friend's responses, giving you a quick look in the process.

you had to be quiet, because matt wouldn't be happy if you weren't. you knew what he was like when that happened, he was so unfair. your hands grasp at his shirt a little, as you shift your weight, and quiet little sounds slip past his lips at the way you move. he'd call you a tease if he didn't know how sleepy you were. no way you'd tease him in a state like this. his half-lidded blue eyes flutter over you and he smirks to himself, his hands preoccupied with the controller as he played.

it was up to you to get off, the look in his eyes told you. matt was busy with his game. he couldn't bounce you on his dick like he usually would, or hold you down so you could grind, no, you had to use your pretty head and think for yourself without his help for once. so cruel of him. you were the one who came to him all needy and horny in the first place, after all.

"mmh," you whine pathetically, under your breath, just quiet enough so matt's mic won't pick it up. he laughs at you, chuckles at how needy you are, mumbling under his breath, "go on then, baby, i can't help you." he's so mean, you think to yourself, as you try to lift your hips up and down on him. a low grunt slips past his lips, your walls gliding up and down on him.

"you're so mean," you huff out, trying to gain a momentum. you're so tired, as are your thighs, so moving is practically impossible. matt watches you for a moment, the impossibly slow pace you're setting making arousal coil in his stomach. he can barely stay quiet, grunts escaping him occasionally. "i ain't mean, baby, jus' busy." he was being unfair and he knew it.

this goes on for another fifteen minutes or so. you leaking on his dick, making a mess, unable to chase that releass you so dearly crave.

all while he laughs and jokes with his friends about a round of a game you honestly couldn't give two shits about.

eventually, he feels the tiniest shred of mercy. matt notices how sleepy you are and the way you're about to fall asleep with him inside, and he takes pity on you, deciding on finding a way to wrap up his gaming session with his boys. "s'gettin' late and i gotta do some shit in the mornin', but i'll catch up with you guys soon, aight?" his friends grumble agreements, a little disappointed as to their standards it wasn't even that late.

arguably 3am was late, but okay.

you don't start whining and whinging until you're absolutely sure his friends are gone, and it's like a dam's been broken the moment you are. "matt, please," you beg, "please, please.. wanna.. touch me, please," it's pathetic and whiny and you're absolutely not ashamed because he'd been a total dickhead in not helping you and now you just wanted to come. was that so bad?

"so needy, sweetheart.." matt mutters, a coy smirk playing on his lips as he leans back in the gaming chair, watching how you look, sat on him like that. his hands glide over your body, and you mewl at the touch, back arching instinctively. the way your tight walls squeeze him when your back arches urges him to finally give in and give you what you want, his hands sliding down to your hips. "just needed my attention, thought so," he starts slowly grinding his hips, bucking up into you in gentle motions. you let out soft gasps, pretty noises falling to his ears and only encouraging him more.

"that's it.. you ride my cock so pretty, ma," he's practically doing the work for you, since he knows how tired you are, but that doesn't mean he's not proud of you for even trying. his head tilts back, blue eyes watching you as he bounced you. "gonna fuck you so good, babe, make you see stars, huh? couldn't sleep? don't worry, baby, don't worry," he mumbles, oh, he'd get you to sleep. don't worry about it.

๋࣭ ⭑ taglist / @mattslolita , @st7rnioioss , @flairdean , @mattsluv , @bepositiveforachange , @poetatorturadaa , @onlynextdoor

[inkskinned]

no, actually, where is the whimsy?

my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?

we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.

earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.

i stared at my ex. he stared at me.

his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!

it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.

and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.

my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.

which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.

but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.

the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.

so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.

and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.

where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.

it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.

this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.

[suzie-guru]

Despite the heavy rain in Grand Rapids, I took myself out and about and finally made it to where @hellenhighwater’s breathtaking and deeply moving work for ArtPrize, “Old Stories”, was being displayed.

It was thrilling to see all of this in person after watching their progression on @hellenhighwater’s tumblr. I kept wanting to grab others and go “Make sure to follow their tumblr! It’s a treasure trove!”

The pieces that moved me the most are incontestably the ones featuring the Minotaur - after Medusa, his story is the most tragic of the Greek Myths to me and these pieces made me ache for him even more. I fell in love with these statues through watching the progression of their creation, but seeing them in person? All I could think of is how badly he deserved to be rescued, saved from his imprisonment, his loneliness. It hit me like a gut punch.

Which is why I loved the third and final piece for his story so much. The original ending will always be told, but on the other end of the labyrinth, there’s a more hopeful, gentler ending where the walls crack and crumble, and Asterion steps out and away from his prison, gets to see the stars and feel the sun…

The piece I didn’t expect to move me so deeply was Narcissus.

As it says on the artist’s statement for the piece, in a mythos full of capricious gods, ravaging heroes, and half-human monsters, Narcissus’ only crime was being beautiful and solitary. How many girls have had to deal with the same persistence and accusations of coldness? Can’t he have the same protectiveness we give them? I never would have thought such things, but this work opened my mind. Thank you for that, @hellenhighwater.

Please, if you’re able to do so, come to Grand Rapids and see all of the works in person, especially @hellenhighwater’s! And vote for them!!!

Now, I’m off to write that story about Ariadne and Asterion being siblings that I always wanted to get around to…

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Simon taking care of you when you accidentally injured yourself. Just fluff cuz I need fluff :D .

cw: pet names (princess, love etc.)

“Simon, I’m home!”

You opened the front door, only to see Simon sitting on the couch. Hearing your voice, he raised his head from the book he was infatuated with these days, and a low hum left him as a welcome.

“I’ll go shower first, the weather’s hot as hell, and I’m stink.”

You tossed the key onto the plate, nonchalantly passed your lover, but Simon could sense the difference in your movements.

“Stop.”

He stood up from the couch, and came straight towards you.

Oh no, you’re so fucked up.

“Hey, Si! I’m dirty! put me down!”

Simon ignored your yelling, scooping you up and over his shoulder.

“Don’t move.”

He demanded, and you swallowed hard when he grabbed your left ankle, and lifted the trouser legs.

“You’re hiding this from me?” His coffee-like brown eyes narrowed in disapproval, throwing you daggers while all you could do was let out a sigh.

“Sorry, Simon. Don’t want to concern you.”

Crooking his eyebrow, Simon darted his eyes back to observe the wound on your left calf. A long, deep cut went across half of your flesh, blood just managed to stop dripping, and fortunately didn’t stick your injury to the clothes.

“Where do you get this?”

“The parking lot of the market. Didn’t see a rock and stumble over it, and the pin sticking out of a wall dug into my leg when I tried to steady myself.” You shrugged.

You knew he was worried and hated to see you get hurt, that’s why you try to sneak to the bathroom and deal with it yourself. Simon’s eyes softened when he learned how you get yourself injured, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t allow you to do things alone for at least a week.

“let’s go shower.” He picked you up swiftly as if you weighed nothing, and you just melted into his touch.

“You gonna help me?” Even though you knew the answer, you still asked when he strode to the bathroom.

“You think there’s other options?”

“... No.”

“Good Girl.” planting a kiss on your forehead, he kicked open the door.

“Close your eyes, don’t want to sting them, love.”

Your satisfied grumble when his hands attentively scratched your head made Simon chuckle. He put you in the warm bathtub, and the little chair looked comical under his bulky stature, but you didn’t laugh at him this time, instead focusing on his hands.

His hands, working magically through your hair, carefully not to tug your hair with too much strength. The hands that always protect you, the hands that are littered with scars, soaked with blood, but massage your shoulders when you are tired, shuffle your hair when you playfully argue with him, place on your belly when he hugs you from behind and whispered his affection to you.

He reserved all his tenderness to you, and you wondered why you were lucky enough to have this man as yours.

“Told you to close your eyes, love.”

You smiled when Simon finally discovered you had been staring at him from the start.

“Am I not allowed to watch my beautiful husband?”

“Don’t complain when the sud run into those pretty eyes then.” He huffed out a laugh.

When it came to you, he just couldn’t do anything but surrender to your adorable cheekiness. He thought when he couldn’t help but give your cheek a peck.

You sat on the edge of your bed now. Simon had dry your hair, and made you put on your underwear and his black shirt.

He was kneeling in front of you now, picking through the gauze and disinfectant. He seemed to find all the things he needed. Placing them aside, he took your ankle in his hand again.

“It’ll hurt a bit.”

He traced circles on your thigh to soothe the pain when he sprayed the antiseptic on your wound and waited for it to dry.

“You’re doing well, love. We’re almost finished.”

He cooed when he saw you blinked away a tear hanging on the corner of your eye.

Nodding, you watched him cover the wound with gauze and secure it.

“Thank you, Si.”

You chanted softly when his thumb caressed on the tape. Simon didn’t let go of your ankle when you thanked him, but landed a kiss beside the gauze.

“A spell for faster healing” The childish glints in his eyes were obvious when he lifted his head to meet your eyes.

“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person, baby.” You poke his cheek with a laugh.

“Guess there’s more of me yet for you to figure out.

He threw the bottles back into the medkit, and finally stood up after kneeling for ten minutes.

“Anything you want now, princess?”

“cuddle with me, Simon. The wound hurts.”

“Who’s the one trying to hide it thirty minutes ago?”

Lying on your back on the bed, his blonde hair shined under the light, but not brighter than the languid smirk he wore on his lips.

“Are you saying you don’t want to cuddle with me now?”

“Are there other options?”

“of course not, handsome.” You worm yourself into the comforter, and beckoned him to join you.

Slump down on the bed, he wiggled himself into his usual cuddling posture, arms snaked around your waist, and covered your belly with his palm.

“Anything for you, love.” You felt he kissed the shell of your ear when your eyes closed under the coziness.

[evilminji]

Okay but I just? Made myself snort?

Imagine~☆ Grandma Fenton. Young, hot, built like a tank.

She meets a SUAVE and well muscled man of mystery. With a CAPE! Fabulous facial hair. There are ninjas. She was hunting the Supernatural. Very, very badly.

But still! That Fenton STRENGTH. That smile! That "just back handed an assassin through a wall"! Mystery man is... intrigued ™.

They do unspeakable things to each other hot young nuible bodies against every surface they can find. There are explosions and sword fights. She has a BLAST! It was a great trip.

Prooooobably should have gotten more then his name though!

Maybe used protection!

WHOOPS ™!

Ah well, she always DID want kids! A jack is a wonderful kiddo! Strong as an ox! Bit obsessive, but what Fenton ISNT?

She goes about her merry way. Things to do! Monsters to HUNT! Crocodiles to WRESTLE! Feeling like... she's... forgetting? Something? But what could it BE?

It's only after YEARS, as she's retired, down a leg (damn Sasquatch) and two fingers, that she squints at some hoity toity shin-dig on the TV... and... huh.....

You know? That lil Wayne kid reminds her of someone. It's... it's on the tip of her to- OH FUCK! *slams down the morning paper* she forgot to tell her sprogs DAD!

Shit! He didn't know he got her preggers!!!

Which? Is how Ra's AL Ghul? Get a VERY sheepish call from that lion of a woman he had... relations *unholy smirk that makes SO MANY people around him uncomfortable* with, informing him? He not ONLY has a son.

But a grandson and granddaughter.

Neither fit to inherent, obviously. But his blood has run true. His son married the most powerful woman he could locate. Because studying the borders between life and death. And can snap lesser men in half like a twig. Grandchildren? Much of the same.

So obviously, he shall become... Supportive. A loving grandfather.

Why? Because he has no standards for them! They are but a pleasant suprise. The bloodline MIGHT be useful. Eventually. But for now? Charm champaign.

EVERYBODY loves Grandpapa Ra's, after all. :)

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @the-witchhunter

[bluetimeombre]

・❥ 'Are you Hugh down under?' p2

You and Hugh were the stars of the biggest movie, Wolverine and Ladypool, and fans love the two of you.

[Here's p2, thank you for loving the last one and being as obsessed as I am. I hope i got everyone on the tag list and the second part to Ladypool and Wolverine is on its way. Again this isn't proof read, this is just vibes. There's some sexual innuendos and sexist comments that Hugh is at the rescue for. Also, i'm British so half of these interviews just end up being British icons]

part one

You and Hugh being in love for twenty-five minutes (part two)

2017, Y/N heart monitor

You were doing an interview for your latest movie with Nick Grimshaw on BBC radio one. It was a new thing he'd come up with, trying it with you for the first time as you were hooked up to a heart rate monitor.

'Is it working?' asked Nick. 'Is she alive?'

You help him put the stickers onto you. 'It's like, there's nothing there,' you joke with them.

'She's a robot.'

The beeping began and it found your heart beating at a steady pace, a good start.

'So, I'm going to show you a series of images and we're just gonna see how you react to these images, ok?' he asked.

You grin, nerves kicking in. 'Ok.' It could have been anything. And boy were you right.

Some of them were fine, easy, normal. A picture of a co-star the heart rate was fine, a pair of shoes that you wore a lot, a picture of cash and an ex that had it risen but not alarmingly.

'And finally,' Nick picked up an image. 'Hugh Jackman! How does he make you feel?'

Your cheeks go red and you laugh. 'I hate you all so much, um, Hugh Jackman?' you were too busy laughing. Once you had made a joke about Wolverine and how good looking he was, now it was following you everywhere.

'Heartbeats rising!' Nick cheered as you covered your face. 'Heartbeats the highest it's ever been, eighty-five, up to ninety! One hundred!' he claps.

You bang your head on the table, finally finding control over yourself. 'I can't believe you all.'

Nick slid the picture over to you. 'Here, you can take that one home with you.'

'Thanks. He looks great there, doesn't he?' you say. 'A classic, Hugh Jackman picture.'

'Yeah, you like it?' he teased.

You grinned. 'That's going on my wall when I get home.'

The Graham Norton show

You and Hugh had walked out, waving at the adorning crowd that cheered as you took the sofa.

‘Hello! Hello!’ Graham called.

The two of you looked the pair as you smiled and sat next to each other in spite of the space on the sofa.

‘Sofa to ourselves, i like that,’ you say, lying back.

‘The other guests were too intimidated,’ said Graham. ‘Now, was the walk out ok for you guys, Hugh, are you happy?’ He asked.

Hugh frowned. The crowd laughed. ‘It was very good, thank you.’

‘Because, is it true- and Y/N correct me if I’m wrong, you had a specific song you walked out onto set with?’ He asked.

Immediately knowing what he was talking about, you laugh while Hugh hangs his head and sighs.

You sat straight and took to explaining while patting his back. ‘You see, it’s very tough for Hugh to get into character as Wolverine sometimes. So the only way was to get him out the trailer was to play a specific song.’

‘Ok, ok so shall we do it again, this time with the song?’ Graham proposed. He ushered you both backstage, Hugh squeezing your shoulders as you went.

‘Whatta a man’ by salt and pepper started playing and you led the way out for Hugh who danced his way out. The crowd clapped along as Hugh shows his moves and ended with dipping.

‘Oh wonderful!’ Graham called as the two of you took your seats again.

For the rest of the interview thing went very smoothly.

‘Now is is true that the first time you met, Hugh, you didn’t actually meet Y/N?’

Hugh again huffed and shook his head. ‘This show is all to embarrass me, isn’t it?’

‘Makes a change honestly,’ you say.

Hugh looked back to you and started to tell the story. Through out, his body had moved toward you, his entire presence facing you despite talking out to everyone. ‘When I first walked on set, you know, at the ready, I was very excited to be there and even more excited to meet this wonderful lady here. And I got suited up, you know, went to hair and makeup and one of our first shots was quite a challenging one, a big stunt.’

‘Big,’ you agreed, taking a sip of your drink. You knew where the story was going.

‘Yea, so anyway, I walk over to Y/N whose already in her suit. Looks great by the way. Anyway so I start introducing myself and saying hello and how thankful I am for being here, a real heart to heart you know-‘ he says, ‘and then Y/N walked in and i realized I’d been speaking to her stunt double the whole time- whole time!’

The crowd laugh as do you, almost choking on your drink.

Wolverine and Ladypool press:

You and Hugh sat with each other all day doing press. You kept it light with jokes between the two of you, working through the people and questions.

One particular interviewer just had to get his answers though. ‘So your suit,’ he starts, looking to you. ‘It’s very tight and eventuated several parts of you, did you find that hard to manoeuvre around?’

Hugh answered before you had the chance to open your mouth. ‘I found it very easy to move around in. You know, first x-men movie, not so much but these suits, are perfect.’

The guy chuckled, it was clearly forced but you thanked Hugh for taking the question, patting his knee. ‘Can you wear like panties with them or thongs, cause they are skin tight.’

‘I’ll take this one!’ Said Hugh again. ‘I go commando, but that’s just because I like it.’

‘He does, he does like it,’ you nod, grinning. ‘He’s going commando right now actually.’

The guy tried one more time to ask you a question about the suit. At this rate, your entire body turned to face Hugh. ‘Do you feel sexy in the suit?’ He asked you.

‘Very,’ said Hugh.

After that, Hugh made several vulgar comments when you were alone, but luckily for you, Hugh was your own superhero.

Buzzfeed quiz

'Hello!' you greet the camera, holding your phone to your chest. 'I'm something-something Jackman.'

'And i'm the greatest actress of all time,' said Hugh.

You deflated, looking at him. 'Oh, well now I just look like a dick.'

'No, it's ok,' he shrugged. 'One of us has to look like a dick.'

The two of you were doing quizzes for Buzzfeed, answering if you're more Ladypool or Wolverine. Although you were sat next to each other, you'd both craned your bodies back so the other couldn't see what you were putting in, like it was a test.

'We're really competitive with each other,' Hugh told the crew.

'Yeah, not with anybody else, but I have to- I just have to prove i'm better than Hugh Jackman at something,' you said.

'Who are you hoping to get?' asked the lady behind the camera.

'Oh, Ladypool, obviously,' you said.

Hugh nodded along, watching you. (Did this man ever not look at you?) 'I wouldn't be angry about getting Ladypool either.'

You tut. 'So quick to betray yourself.'

If you could have a super power, what would you chose?

You read through the options. 'I think telekinesis,' you said. 'Mainly just because I'm lazy and it would be so easy to pick up the tv remote or close the curtains. Very practical.'

'Yeah, that's a good one,' Hugh hummed about it for longer. 'Maybe healing ability.'

You roll your eyes, throwing your head back. 'That's such a Wolverine answer!'

'I know, but I'm getting old, be nice for things to not hurt a lot,' he said.

Who's your favourite MCU character?

Hugh scanned the options. 'I er, don't see Wolverine on here?' he looked around at the crew behind the camera's shaking his head.

'Can't get the staff these days- oh my god Spider-Man's on here!' you cheered, distracted.

'She loves Spider-Man,' Hugh told the camera.

'I do. I really do,' you agreed. 'If it wasn't gonna be Wolvie, it was gonna be Spidey,' you look into the camera, holding your phone to your ear, mimicking for Andrew Garfield to call you.

Hugh dragged his finger of his neck in a cutting off motion if he ever did.

Who do you pick to be your road-trip buddy?

'You have to pick the Wolverine, c'mon,' Hugh nudged you.

You looked through the options which all considered x-men. You hesitated, humming. 'I dunno.'

'We had great fun in the car!'

A red blush took over your cheeks as you re-called the multiple, multiple takes you and Hugh had to do. Hugh saw this and draped his arm over the back of your chair.

'Yeah, but that was- that was different, this is a roadtrip not a porn video in a car,' you joked. 'And Wolverine's like so serious, Rogue, she's so fun.'

'Woah, woah,' Hugh paused everything. 'Rogue is great, don't get me wrong. But who's better!' he pointed at himself. 'Wolverine's not grumpy with you, he loves you!'

You look over at him, grinning sweetly. 'No, you love me and it's judging your character.' For five minutes, the two of you argued over who you'd rather have as a road-trip buddy. Most of it got sped up during the video. 'Ok, fine, I pick Wolverine. Who are you picking?'

'Charles,' said Hugh even though Ladypool was on the list.

You faced the camera, mouth hung open as Hugh laughed loudly and gave you a side hug, assuring you it was a joke but he still clicked on Charles!

Which musical number would you want to perform with your 'Wolverine and Ladypool' cast mate?

'Oh, some great choices!' boasted Hugh as he read through them all.

You smile at him, eyes softening. 'You've awakened the musical theatre beast.'

'Y/n, there's so many good choices! What do we pick?!' he grabbed your hand and squeezed as you watched him with joy.

There was a few choices: 'Love is an Open Door,' from Frozen, 'The other side,' which Hugh obviously did for The Greatest showman. But there was also 'The Love Melody' from Moulin Rouge and 'You're the one that I want,' from Grease and when you both saw that you gave each other a look and knew which one you were picking.

By the end when your results came up you cheered and punched the air, practically jumping out you seat. 'Ladypool! God, this felt like my audition for the character all over again,' you wipe pretend sweat from your brows. 'What did you get?'

Hugh showed you his phone. 'Ladypool! I got Ladypool!'

'We're so alike!' you entwined your fingers. Slowly and dramatically the two of you leant in, pretending you were going in for what would have been a very wet kiss before you both pulled back and explained your answers.

You and Hugh with Alison Hammond again!

The interview with the two of you and Alison Hammond was pretty much the two of you flirting and Alison fangirling. Fans couldn't stop editing it together.

'Ok so obviously there's been a lot of competition between the two of you, so we need to settle who's better once and for all,' said Alison. 'So i've got a series of challenges for the two of you to complete but there's a twist.'

'We're naked!' said Hugh causing you to laugh. 'No, sorry.'

Alison handed you both each a boxing glove. 'I want you to put one on each and sign your autographs, which ever is close wins the point.'

'You're on, Jackman,' you said, already sliding your hand into the boxing glove.

Hugh gave you a cocky smile. 'I am so gonna win this, you know why? Cause you've given me a right boxing glove, but i'm left-handed!' he quickly got to scribbling his autograph.

'Fuck!' you cursed, struggling with your own. (It was bleeped out on this morning).

When you handed them both back to Alison it was obvious who the winner was. 'Thanks for this guys, it'll do numbers on Ebay.'

The two of you practically topple on each other with how hard you laugh.

Next you had to try to open a bottle of water with your gloves on and pour it into glasses and try drinking from it, both of which you failed at. Then the two of you just started fighting each other so Alison called it off like she was your teacher in a rowdy class.

'So, as I am a morning presenter, I thought I'd see how good the two of you would be if you had your own Hugh and Y/N morning show- so here's some guards, scoot closer, scoot closer,' said Alison.

The two of you took the cards and moved your chairs together until your thighs were pressed together. You waited for your cue before the two of you began your audition for your own morning show.

Hugh threw his arm around your shoulder, drawing you in.

'No, Hugh,' you denied, 'we must be professional on tv!'

Alison cackled. 'Yeah, you wouldn't do that on tv.'

Hugh looked offended at the both of you. 'We're re-defining what it means!'

You push him off you and hit him with your cards.

Hugh assesses the camera. 'Where's the shot? Above our chests, perfect, so I can do this.' And he puts his hand on your thigh, sprawling it out as you bite your lip to stop the grin.

'I'm taking this audition seriously, Hugh!'

Finally, the two of you start, acting as if it was a real morning show while Alison gave you pointers.

'Did you have a good weekend?' Hugh asked you (in reality all your weekends had been spent in his company) 'What did you get up to?'

You shrug. 'Nothing much.'

'No,' he interrupted causing you and Alison to laugh. 'When I ask a generic how was your weekend, you have to tell me a great funny story that we've set up before. So, Y/N, what did you do on your weekend?'

'I went fishing,' you said the first thing that popped into your head.

'Did you fall in?' he asked.

'I fell in.'

'That's hilarious!' the way he said it and the way he looked into the camera, caring about it just made you laugh so bad. 'Don't go anywhere, we'll see you after the break!' you were still laughing when Hugh wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck, making kissing noises and hiding behind the cards.

Even more at the premier

You and Hugh stood next to each other, him keeping an arm around your waist as you both listened to the interviewer ask you questions.

'So, Y/N, we found this interview from 2017 and we thought Hugh might like to take a look at it,' they said, pulling out their phone and clicking on a video.

As soon as it started playing, you knew what it was. 'Oh god.' you hid yourself, turning to Hugh as he watched.

It was the famous heart-rate monitor interview, where, when you saw a picture of a shirtless Hugh Jackman, your heart-rate spiked higher than any other picture.

Hugh was smiling the whole time and beamed at you when the video finished. 'You have that effect on me,' he assured you, leaning his head on top of yours and smiling at the interviewer.

'Y/N, do you still feel that way when you look at him now?' they asked.

'More,' you said, speaking loudly over all the noise. 'I feel it ten times more.'

And fans, anyone, could see how much the two of you were in love. Whether it was just flirting or if it was real, it was there and everyone was happy for you.

As the two of you walked off, the camera followed you. Hugh's head was bowed low, seemingly taking low to you as his arm remained around your waist and yours came up to rub his back up and down. He laughed loudly at something you had said before dropping a kiss to the top of your head and continuing on the journey.

(there probably won't be part three but I'm working on another compilation with you and Hugh)

taglist (thank you all!): @geeksareunique, @angstdaddy, @tranquilty, @gotta-go-now, @pear-1206, @chronicallybubbly