#expecting posts like this regularly? i wouldn’t

[psychic-refugee]

I understand if people are disappointed in Jenna by her lack of vocal support for the past election in the States. There is always the hope that a celebrity we follow are “on our side.” Elections can have dire consequences, and we hope to get all the help we can get.

I don’t think these expectations are reasonable, per se, but I understand the natural inclination and the disappointment that follows when those hopes/expectations fail to materialize.

I’ll repeat that we must manage our expectations when it comes to celebrities and Jenna is not exempt from that.

I don’t know where she stands on a lot of issues. I also don’t know how she voted if she voted at all. At bottom, we don’t have a right to know. Voting should always be a private matter if they so choose.

Celebrities are still private citizens who have a right to privacy and don't owe us transparency.

I think disappointment in the lack of political support is valid in terms of personal feelings, and I don’t want to put words in Jenna’s mouth of why she may not have been more vocal.

I don’t know Jenna and my next thoughts are very generous towards her, I own and admit it.

I want to give grace to those I can. Perhaps time will prove she is unworthy of it, I’ll give it anyway. Kindness and grace are a choice, and I only hope that others will choose them as well.

While I don’t know her stance on issues, I equally do not know her mental state or what is going on with her personal/real/work life.

I’m not too hard on anyone who chooses to refrain from engaging with social media in any capacity and for any reason. I think people’s safety and mental health will always take precedence.

One can’t give from an empty cup.

One of the things I keep in mind when it comes to Jenna and her social media use specifically, is that she is a hyper-sexualized celebrity. We are in a time where AI is rampant, and it being used for porn is becoming endemic. Globally, we are nowhere near having laws to combat this, and I don’t see it as a priority for any nation to reign it in.

Jenna has already been run off from one social media platform because she was sent AI porn of herself. Other social media platforms are not any better. Certainly, on Tumblr I regularly block and report accounts that post AI porn/photoshop/links to porn when I see it, Jenna is a popular target.

Then there are others who do “handcrafted” porn across different medias (drawings, fiction, etc…), and they try to profit from it, and they do so in public forums such as Twitter/IG/social media. If it’s not being sent directly to the celebrity, it’s easy to find and possibly shoved in their face via the algo. OR their siblings/family are finding it as well.

There are others that nitpick at her looks and make sexually charged comments about her body freely and openly.

Social media is not a safe place for Jenna.

I certainly wouldn’t frequent anyplace I knew I was going to be sexually harassed or heavily criticized, even for benign things such as attending a concert or a farmer’s market. She is literally being stalked by her “fans” and they are happy to spread it and act as if they’re doing her a favor.

Yes, Jenna’s social media posts have become essentially completely professional. Even when we know she has been to social engagements with people she works with and we presume are on friendly terms, she does not post about it. I believe she only posted about Gaza twice, three times tops. She never endorsed any candidate.  

She’s not active on social media in general, not just inactive with politics.

I think she would totally forgo social media if not for her professional obligations. It is my understanding she’s only on IG, all others she has shutdown despite likely being able to monetize all of them.

I think it says something that she limits social media as a revenue stream.

Maybe the few posts she did upload regarding voting, even so late in the game, was all she had the mental bandwidth for.

I also would understand if she felt overwhelmed to the point of inaction. She has admitted to anxiety surrounding social media. (Independent, 07 June 2024) Perhaps seeing how Roan Chappell was torn apart for attempting to explain a nuanced opinion on a complex issue had scared her off even more.

Perhaps she is in a place where she could not make herself the target of social media nutjobs.

I’m confident enough to say that anything she said would have invited harassment, no matter what it was.

I’m not going to be too hard on anyone who chooses themselves first, and/or is dealing with mental health issues.

She shouldn’t have to set herself on fire to keep others warm.

Social media is just another type of theatre, and she does not need to perform her values for me.

I see her lack of social media presence as protecting herself by removing herself from what may be hurting her.

I will never criticize anyone dealing with anxiety on how they manage their anxiety.

Jenna has a lot of privileges compared to a lot of people, it doesn’t mean she should be forced to put herself in front of the metaphorical firing squad that is always locked and loaded on social media.

Again, this is a very gracious view of one of a million possibilities that could have been going on in a world I’m not a part of, and with people I’ve never met. I do not conflate social media with knowing someone.

Having a large platform is irrelevant, does not cure anxiety, and does not create obligations.

Expectations from randos on the internet are not obligations.

This is not to dissuade anyone from being angry. This is merely a possible different point of view one may consider.

As I’ve said, grace and kindness are a choice. I’m choosing to think the best of her intensions and situation.

[lumibuns-blog]

Can’t stop thinking about how much Simon “Ghost” Riley loves his American girlfriend.

Unlike the other 141 boys he wouldn’t poke fun at you or tease you about the different words you use. Kyle loves to correct you,

“Whens the soccer game on tonight?”

“Its football love, not soccer, ‘cause you kick the ball.”

“You kick the ball in American football as well.”

“Yeah but...ours is better”

Johnny’s a tease

“Have you seen my swimming suit?”

“You wear a suit to go swimming?”

“I’m not calling it a costume”

“Well it sure as hell isn’t a bloody suit”

Even Price gets in on it by pretending not to hear you,

“Can you grab some chips from the kitchen?”

“Hm? Sorry dear can’t hear ya’”

“Grab me some chips!”

“Gunna’ have'ta repeat that”

“....crisps”

“There ya’ go, really outta speak up more sweetheart”

Never mind the fact he was right beside you on the couch.

But Simon, Simon is different. Never once has he corrected or teased you, to the point where its become a bit of a hindrance.

“Can you stop by the gas station on your way home?”

And he’ll just stare at you, an almost blank expression on his face, only the fidgeting of his fingers give way to what he’s thinking.

“The petrol shop Si’”

“Right.” 

Is it because he doesn’t care? Or maybe he’s too frightened he’ll scare you away if he corrects you? Whatever it is he’ll never say, but one thing is for certain, he’s absolutely elated when you start to pick up the British dialect.

You tell people your boyfriend is a leftenant instead of a luitenant and he’s looking at you like you hung the very stars in the sky.

Ask for a “wife beater” while pointing at the bottles of Stella Artois in his fridge and he swears his heart just skipped a beat (despite the crude connotations of the nickname)

Ask him to pick up ‘Maccies for you bolth on the way home and he almost causes a 20 car pileup because he has to hide his burning face.

Tell him you like the black jumper he’s wearing and theres three more in the online cart already.

And when you start swearing like a “proper brit” he’s ready to get down on one knee. He hears you mutter “bloody hell” from across the flat as you listen to news report an expected  10cm of rain for today and for the first time in his life he’s thanking god Manchester is such a dreary place.

You’ve become part of his life, he hadn’t scared you off, you hadn’t gotten tired of him. You wanted to be here, you wanted him. You’ve been here long enough to pick it up, you’ve spent enough time together even your words are beginning to match each other, and theres nothing in the world that could make him happier. So he’ll never once correct you or tease you when you ask to go on a vacation even if he’s blindly nodding along to your requests and scurrying off to the bathroom later to look it up and figure out you wanted to go on holiday with him. Cursing under his breath while he fishes his phone from the sink because he dropped it in his shock at the revelation you wanted to go on holiday with him. Give him two days and he’s already bought the tickets

Sorry for the lack of posting! Schools been getting busy and I'm working on getting a draft of a book ready to send to a publisher so it's been a bit hectic but I absolutely love posting for you guys here on tumblr (srsly all your comments make my day) so I'm going to try and keep posting as regularly as I can! working on a longer chapter for my Ghost and Soap's roomie series rn so that should be out somewhat soon! thank you all so so much for your support.

[sugutiva]

❝ THREE IS NEVER A CROWD ! ❞ — ST & SG.

ᥫ᭡. synopsis : walking in to find your two best friends making out on camera was no surprise to you at all— but finding yourself sandwiched between them surely was.

tags : smut, p in v, threesomes, geto has piercings, cam sex, oral sex ( f & m receiving ), fingering, slight handjob, spanking, squirting, creampie, cum facial or wtv it’s called, cursing, dirty talk, all lowercase intended, not proofread !

a/n : sugutiva posting twice in one month?! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

if someone had told you that your two loser best friends who shit-talks about everyone and everything they encounter, uncannily bicker like an old married couple, and secretly watches porn together was behind a famous camboy account, you’d wouldn’t be surprise at the fact at all.

you had always suspected that the pair were equally fond of each other— no matter how much they tried to deny it. but there’s still some sort of shock once you find them sloppily making out on the bed you were supposed to be having a movie marathon on, with a live audience capturing their lewd movements.

they only break away from their overbearing kiss once the grocery bag filled to the brim falls out your hand, and spills it’s contents on the floor. cerulean and violet eyes stare holes into your motionless form, clearly processing the embarrassing situation.

oh. this was honestly the last thing you expected on a friday night.

“ satoru? suguru?” you utter, curling your eyebrow upwards in disbelief as you take in the scene infront you; there sits satoru on suguru’s lap with nothing on but boxer briefs, meanwhile suguru is situated underneath him with no shirt but a pair of baggy black sweatpants. despite satoru’s imposing figure, you still had an inkling that suguru was the real dominant one out of the duo.

“ shit. fuck— um, h-hey. . .” satoru greets you with a sheepish smile. the wait of reality truly settles in because you’ve never witnessed him being slightly ashamed for anything he did or does. he unlatches himself from suguru’s body but there’s no point, you’ve already seen what you’ve saw. “ i didn’t know you’d come over at all—“

“ it’s a friday night, satoru.” geto deadpans before facing you with a serene smile, like you hadn’t caught them in the act of doing something lewd. infront him, there’s dozens of comments rolling in, and your eye catches them. some asked them about who you were, if you were the girl they often talked about, or if they’ll do another threesome again, this time with you.

knowing they’d regularly talk about their viewers to you made your body flush all over with a sudden throbbing temptation.

“ so . . . you two are camboys? since when?” even though you swore you were in a state of surprise, your body must’ve moved by it’s self, seeing how you take a couple steps forward until your somewhat towering over their tall bodies. gojo looks at you with surprise before twisting to amusement, while geto keeps his expression serene.

“ you don’t sound too disgusted or surprised,” geto skillfully avoids your questions calmly, and you grow nervous under their combined observant gazes. they were prepared for you to outright judge them for their shameful shared account, but instead you don’t. in fact, you look intrigued. “ i could be wrong but, i think you want to join us.”

you grow quiet and break eye contact. it’s cute.

gojo stares at you with a teasing smile before grabbing your wrist to pull you over closer, he mumbles. “ you wanna fuck?”

you attempt to speak but nothing comes out. it’s like that for a few seconds, you staring at them in dumbfound as they wait seemingly patiently for your answer. “ i— w-with me? a threesome with . . . all three of us?”

“ yeah, i mean, that’s literally the point . . . of a threesome.” geto quips back with sass, and you roll your eyes.

the answer is yes, written in bold letters as your back meets the cushion of the bed they were once on moments ago. it feels expensive.

gojo goes over to the camera, positioning it in a good angle that where all thousands of their audience can see with you bare with your legs sprawled out, and geto in between them.

his hot breath fans over you already soaked cunt presented to him, narrowly flashing you that shining piercing stamped on his tongue. “ you hear that, princess?” he brings his thumb to gather your slick from your leaking entrance before smearing it on your erect clit— just begging for his attention. or maybe for the both of them at once. “ you hear your cunt singing loudly for me?” his thumb repeatedly flicks at your labia, ringing out deep squelching sounds.

“ suguruuu, don’t play with our food now,” satoru whines, making his way back over to the bed once he has the right set angle. he gets down on his knees next to his partner, pushing your right leg further to make room for him. “ god, ‘m staaarved. keep your legs spread like that— don’t move them at all.”

before you know it, their tongues are fall into an automatic rhythm while slurping and thrashing at your drenched entrance. words cannot describe how good they are at skillfully eating you out at the same time— distantly, it makes you wonder how many times they’ve done it before you came into the picture.

“ fuuuckk!” your mouth drops open, feeling each detail of their tongues slobbering over you, now at different paces. geto languidly tongue fucks your hole; his tongue reaches so impossibly deep inside that you feel the outline of the cool piercing brush against the heat of your hole. while gojo quickly flicks at your clit in rapid succession, strings of saliva coating his own chin, dripping down so messily that they meet with geto’s occupied wet muscle. “ deeper, sugu, deeeeper! wan’a f-feel your piercing!”

“ hmph, suguru’s not the only one eating this sloppy pussy out. or are you too dumb to feel the difference between our tongues?” sensing competition, satoru slurps your whole clit in his mouth. his head shifts up and down as if he was sucking against something else— his tongue flicks out his mouth, much slower this time, accompanied by more saliva coating your pearl, only to be sucked in at the same time his tongue pulls back into his warm mouth.

the sight is nothing short of vulgar, and you’re sure the paid watchers are getting way more than what they expected.

geto pulls back from your cunt, but you don’t get to whine about the lost contact of his tongue leaving your opening when he easily slips two of his thick fingers in, resulting in a loud popping noise, and an even louder moan from your mouth. “ tsk. yer’ such a try hard, satoru. turnin’ everything into a competition.”

“ so? we can’t have you hoggin’ her all for yourself now,” his speech is noticeably slurred due to sucking hungrily on your clit. his mouth detaches from your aching bud, just to deliver a slew of mean spanks to make it twitch under his harsh ministrations. “ ain’t that right, princess?”

the painful sticky contact catches you off guard completely before it quickly brings you back into waves of pleasure. taken aback, you jerk your body away, although you don’t get any where near far because of your hole getting mapped out, and gojo’s iron grip on your hip. the confusing pleasure-pain entanglement has you feeling beyond lightheaded.

“ shit! y-yes, satooru! i wan’ t-the both of you!” your hands flies down in an attempt to pull away the hands causing you extreme pleasure— more than what you can initially handle.

“ yeah. slapping her pussy so she can agree with you definitely wins you more brownie points.” suguru dryly notes, “ we’re gonna break her already.”

“ i’d like to see you do something about it, suguboo.” satoru voice cuts in, the enthusiasm peaking in his tone that suguru lacks.

of course they’d bicker while turning your brain mushy threw your overworked cunt.

“ mmph— ‘m gonna squirt!” you shriek out, your body curves into a outwardly arch— that looks sexy albeit painfully from the camera’s point of view.

suguru starts thrusting his fingers again, even faster than before. satoru’s head dips down to your clit to give it a spit filled kiss before lapping it up into his mouth entirely like before. a tight but slightly uncomfortable pressure builds in your lower stomach.

your surprised that your voice hasn’t given out, considering of how loud your moaning both of their names as they write their conjoined love letter over the expanse of your cunt. “ fuh— fuuccck . . . o-oh!”

your nimble fingers finds home in gojo’s pristine locks of hair. he nibbled on your clit abruptly, and that was your end. your body freezes in your arched position before breaking out into tremors as clear fluids squirts from your body.

“ how cute, our best friend has such a sloppy pussy on ‘er,” suguru’s voice purrs with amusement, watching intensely as the juices that sprays uncontrollably from your body coats the entire half of satoru’s lower face, with some reaching the duvets underneath your bodies.

your body collapses back down on the bed. there’s a brief pregnant pause in the room— you barely notice that it’s because of satoru swapping your juices that he held in his mouth into suguru’s in a deep kiss.

gojo uncharacteristically whines as geto grabs a fistful of his hair to tug him closer— this whiny boy cannot be the same person that just made you paint his face in your vigorous fluids. there’s a brief glimpse of their tongues twirling and touching each other’s, like how they did on your cunt moments ago. suguru pulls from the kiss while also pulling his drowned fingers from your hole, soundly. he presses the certain digits on satoru’s warm tongue, expecting him to suck on them.

which he does, with a submissive moan. “ suguruuuu,”

as they continue to make out, it makes you throb all over again.

satoru chases after his fingers once suguru pulls them away. his brattiness is short lived when suguru yanks his hair to make him face your wrecked form. “ ah ah, don’t be greedy now. we still have a pussy to break again.”

the dynamic assigned with their pornographic persona fits them perfectly— suguru is labeled as the no-nonsense top, while satoru is the bratty bottom that will crack under pressure if pushed enough— no wonder why they’re so famous.

your body is situated into the iconic doggystyle stance. you see the lap of satoru, his boxers briefs are saturated a shade darker than it originally was, credits to his sticky pre-cum making itself known. your hands slowly spring his cock free, and satoru sighs shakily from above you.

you licked your lips, staring at your best friend’s astonishing length. he stood tall, even though it slapped against his stomach, you could tell that it reached far past his belly button; his tip flushes an angry red along with a eye-catching pearly bead of cum that makes your pussy clench around nothing— for now. no doubt, the sheer size will have your jaw aching for days after.

“ no need to just ogle at it. ‘s all yours babe, heh.” gojo chuckles cockily, watching you gawk at his freed dick.

you had temporarily forget the owner of such a pretty cock, had such a blabbermouth.

you glare at him from underneath your eyelashes, you harden the tip of your tongue and push it against the vein bulging from his skin, trailing your tongue all the way upwards until your reaches his slightly swollen tip. there, you take the fat head in your mouth, giving it a harsh suck that makes satoru groan and throw his head back.

geto settles from behind you, giving your rounded ass a heartfelt squeeze before slapping the jiggly skin sternly. he stops to pump his own hardness as he slaps the tip against your sopping folds, noisily— this is how you figure out he has an prince albert’s piercing, when he’s close to using it to turn you drunk on both lingering cock’s. “ waiting on you, pretty girl.”

spreading your legs more, you push back against his base. the curve of his cock presses against your mound, a silent telling that you’re ready for him, and he takes it exactly like that when he suddenly sinks into your warm walls with no follow up warning.

oh god, is he fucking thick.

from the obvious feeling, you can tell that he has more girth to his cock— thicker than gojo’s, but not quite as long.

geto grunts, his gruff hands gripping tightly at your waist as he thrusts forward. his pierced bulbous tip immediately hammers into your sweet spot. the forceful pumps that he delivers to your much smaller body, has your stomach tightening with fulfilled hunger, causing you to mewl around gojo’s cock.

and the vibrating sensitivity is so dizzying to the latter. “ keep fuckin’ her jus like t-that,” his abs flexing and clenching in your field of vision. you hollow your cheeks in and relax the tight muscles in your throat, so you can consume more than just his meaty head. “ oh fuuuuck, baby. you’ve got such a d-deadly throat on ya,”

“ don’t tell me you’re going to cum already now.” geto teases, composedly watching gojo’s reactions. he’s since then propped one leg up on the bed, diving deeper into your pussy even further. “ hey. once his tip starts twitching he’s about to—“

“ shut the f-fuck up,” his strained voice doesn’t come off sternly than what he expected as you trail your tongue down, leading to his tender balls. “ n-not yet— can’t do that, ‘m gonna cum too early!” you pay his words no mind as your hand moves up to stroke up and down on his copious length.

by now, you’re purely relying on geto’s strength and your other hand placed on gojo’s firm thigh to keep you upright. geto leans forward, his chest pressed against your back while the hands once grabbing and slapping at your plump flesh strains your hips. the new position creates more of an absolute mess out of you, along with the heavy balls stuffed in your mouth.

you push back against him every time you feel his pelvis collide with your forgotten clit in sticky thrusts, the contact gives you a distant amount of pleasure but it’s not near enough. “ you desperate for something? how bout you ask me first, then i’ll make this pussy drown my cock.

a tease is the perfect word to describe geto— he knows what you want, but still decided to make you spell it out for him. painstakingly.

“ i want you to t-touch me,” he gives your body a jagged thrust. he wanted more, for you to be more specific. you grumble before complying. “ i w-want you to touch my clit, suguru, pleaseee!”

his hand creeps in between your parted thighs, fingers toying with your throbbing clit in fast paced, tight circles to match the speed of his own hips. “ like this? you like havin’ your clit played with while you give your other best friend head?” his voice is pitched an octave lower pressed to your ear, the purring sensation makes you push back against him, searching for your pending orgasm. “ heh. what a greedy slut for cock.”

“ ‘m gonna cum soon, princess.” gojo jaw clenches as he breathes out, nostrils slightly flaring due to the doubled pleasure; your hand pulls and twists in up and down motions on his cock, your saliva helps guides your hand as your mouth is currently occupied with him. he doesn’t let you stop or pull away even for a moment as his fingers cards through the locks of your hair, pulling and pushing them closer. “ c-close your eyes, baby. wan’a paint your pretty face in my cum for the viewers.”

you had briefly forgotten that all of your obscene doings are being captured. dozens and dozens of donations roll in, but you can’t focus on that. not when your senses are clouded with only impure thoughts of your two best friends.

you listen to gojo’s order— and you’re glad because moments later, galloons of his sticky cum paints your face in a translucent base. “ g-good girl, oohhh, you look so pretty like this for m-me.” he cups your face with one hand, while smearing the leaking slit of his tip against your lips. your tongue dips out to lick the bitter yet somehow sweet substance.

the black haired, determined man pulls at your arms, fucking into you faster, initiating broken gasps to leave your throat with every push. “ suguruuu, ‘m so close. i . . . fuuuck, gonna cum!”

“ you like it rough, yeah?” he gives you another awakening thrust, and that’s your end. your head throws back against his broad shoulder and he turns his head to latch on your neck.

but he still doesn’t relent. not until he comes next.

making your head bobble and your pleasure quickly bleed into overstimulation, until your restricting walls triggers his own climax. with a harsh bite on your neck; geto cums, while consuming down his pornographic moans. and it’s a plentiful amount.

“ o-oh shit.” his jaw ached from how hard it was clenched and the muscles in his thighs flex. his fingers on your clit slow, eventually dropping their pace “ yer’ so t-tight. my dick feels like it’s going to fall o-off . . .”

his cum is so warm and it makes you feel full inside, he ruts his hips up erratically to make broken hiccups escape your mouth before he eventually stops.

the salacious mood calms down as you’re busy catching your breath with the weight of geto on top of you— you don’t even realize the camera is in your face until the familiar notification sounds are too close up.

bleary-eyed, you looked into the camera from under your eyelashes. the seductive scene of satoru’s sticky cum covering your face couldn’t be anymore intoxicating to ingest.

“ i think we have more room for another person,” gojo’s cerulean eyes meets his companion’s. “ what d’ya think, suguru?”

[narizaki]

sticky notes   sakusa kiyoomi x reader

―   tags   fem reader,   fluff,   roommates to something close to lovers,   timeskip kiyoomi

―   notes   wc is 1.8k,   i wrote this on a whim so please forgive ooc kiyoomi, also please forgive any grammar mistakes lmao

you and sakusa have been communicating through notes for the past three months.

at first, you had mindlessly written down a few groceries you needed to buy on a sticky note, pasting it onto the fridge so you wouldn’t forget. it included some of the basics: eggs, flour, rice, milk, and other necessities for you and your roommate’s fridge. 

then, the next time you came home, you were greeted by a bright yellow sticky note seated next to your pink one. it said:

protein powder

lettuce

masks (the white ones)

between your full-time job and sakusa’s hectic schedule as a professional volleyball player, the two of you hardly saw each other, if at all. especially with sakusa’s new status on the olympic team. it wasn’t bad, per se, as you’d never been the closest to him — he was closed-off and, frankly, intimidating. it was like the man would go to any lengths to avoid interacting with others. regardless, his small addition to your grocery list had made you laugh. 

you checked off the items he wanted, and the sticky note was gone the next day.

from then, the two of you only ever communicated with each other this way. one of you would write the groceries they needed to get that weekend, and the other would make their additions to the list. it was effective, simple, and considering how the only post-it notes the either of you owned were offensively bright colors, hard to miss. 

after a while, you began adding little comments in addition to the list of items you needed to buy. they were short and sweet, like a thanks! written in the corner of your post-it detailing the items you needed sakusa to buy, or there are leftovers in the fridge after you made too much for dinner. you weren’t expecting sakusa to respond to them, given his stand-offish nature. so, when he did, you were surprised. no; scratch that, you were elated. although his replies weren’t anything extraordinary, just a simple you’re welcome or thank you for the food written in his neat handwriting under your own, it felt like a break in your relationship with sakusa. 

despite knowing him for a while now, the two of you stayed as acquaintances and nothing more. but, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to know more about him. and though unconventional, the sticky notes worked perfectly for this.

writing to each other using post-its became such a habit that sakusa bought a magnetic whiteboard. you were only made aware of it when you walked into the kitchen to see it set up. there was a note already written in black marker on the board, stating that the post-it notes were beginning to be a waste of paper. you made sure to write a large thanks, sakusa! with the same marker, adding a few hearts around it.

(and if sakusa flushed red at the sight of his name with hearts surrounding it, only he would know.) 

whenever your friends came over, they would question the purpose of the whiteboard. you couldn't blame them; it did take up the better half of your fridge's surface. they had a good laugh when you explained the story behind it, but some asked why couldn’t you just text each other?

and, honestly? you didn’t know either.

you knew it would be more efficient if you were to text sakusa instead of patiently waiting for his replies on the dry-erase board every day. but, if you wanted to, you knew you would’ve done it a while ago; before he even had the idea of buying the whiteboard, back when the two of you were conversing through neon sticky notes and wasting an unnecessary amount of paper. 

you surmise it’s because you didn't want to ruin your and sakusa’s relationship — if you could even call it that. texting him would forcefully pull him into your orbit. though you’ve been regularly interacting with him for the past few months, you were aware that you hardly knew anything about the man; small notes and lists only gave you so much information about a person. the whiteboard was a safe in-between — you learn a little more about him and his habits, while not forcing him to interact with you. 

well, you think, he’s not obligated to answer my texts, either. you have his number, and it’s not like you haven’t texted him before. there was only so much you could do when you weren’t home to pick up packages or forget to inform him of a repairman coming over. 

you mull over the decision, a short text already typed into your conversation with sakusa. your finger hovers over the send button, before you furiously spam the delete key and put your phone down. no, nevermind. 

your plan of staying content with your relationship fails miserably.

it’s been a hard few weeks at work, with seemingly endless deadlines you have to meet and an equally endless amount of meetings you’ve had to attend. you feel as if you haven’t had a moment to yourself in forever.

so, when you submit your most recent project to your boss and shut your laptop closed, the first thing on your mind is to go home and rest. your mind is on auto-pilot as you pack your belongings, spitting out no’s to your co-workers' offers to go out drinking. when you’re this tired, the last thing you want to do is wake up with a splitting headache and an awful hangover the next day.

you stumble into your apartment, hastily toeing your heels off. a sigh leaves you, the harsh pressure of the shoe finally being relieved. they’re thrown somewhere in the corner, probably not anywhere close to where they should be, but you’ll deal with that tomorrow. all you want is some sleep. you consider just crashing on the couch and dealing with the consequences tomorrow.

“rough day?” a flat voice asks. you jump at the noise, not expecting anyone to be in your apartment. when you look up, you’re greeted by a tall figure standing in front of you. your eyes take a moment to rack over them, not completely registering that the only other person who has access to your apartment is…

sakusa.

“huh…?” you mutter, blinking a few times to will the tiredness from your eyes. it doesn’t work. sakusa only sighs, stepping from the doorway and further into your home. there’s a look on his face that’s telling you to follow, but when you don’t out of pure shock because he’s here? like, actually here? at home? he rolls his eyes.

“come on,” he says, “there’s food on the stove already.” 

you continue to stay silent, causing sakusa to raise an eyebrow. your face is scrunched up, a hand on the wall next to you to support your weight.

“are you…am i hallucinating…?” you mumble, internally debating if you wanted to pinch yourself to make sure that you’re not dreaming in any way. “i thought you weren’t going to be back for a while?” 

in response to your delirious rambling, sakusa laughs. it’s rather quiet, but you know he does. you hear the rapid exhalation of air accompanied by a deep rumble coming from his chest, and you can see his shoulders shaking. 

he steps closer to you, forcing your bag from your shoulder and practically pulling you with him into your shared living room. you’re tripping over your feet, mind still fuzzy from your tiring day. 

“leave it up to you to not be able to think properly after a long day,” he murmurs, setting your bag down on the couch. in your half-awake daze, you’re unable to form a proper response. “i guess you’re not hungry then.”

“well…” you stammer, still trying to get your bearings. “you’re like, never home, sakusa…so how am i supposed to react when you practically teleport in front of me?” you finish, a yawn escaping you. that makes sakusa laugh again. 

“for your information, i didn’t teleport in front of you,” he replies, “i heard the door open, so i went to greet my roommate. now, go get ready for bed.”

you disregard what he says, opting to groan when he orders you to get ready for bed. it just seems like so much work. you have to take off your makeup, change, brush your teeth, do your skincare…you think you’d rather crash face-first on your couch, like you were planning on doing earlier. you tell him that much.

sakusa rolls his eyes again. he pushes you towardsthe bathroom, telling you to take off your makeup, while he goes to rummage in your room for sleepwear. what? 

you don't have much of a choice, so you follow his directions. beginning with your meticulous skincare routine, you cleanse off your makeup. while you’re drying your face, sakusa knocks on the bathroom door with a fresh pair of pajamas for you to change into. 

once you’ve completed your nightly routine, you wander out of the bathroom to find sakusa sitting on the couch. he seems preoccupied with something on his phone, and you have to admit that the sight of him concentrating is rather charming. 

thankfully, the cold water you’d splashed onto your face woke you up, so you’re more awake than you were when you’d entered. you’re still horribly tired, and you want nothing but to sleep in the comfort of your bed, but you feel bad going straight to bed without even thanking sakusa for taking care of you. the only way the two of you talked for the last few months  was over post-it notes, for god's sake! 

“hey, sakusa?” you call, and his attention snaps from his phone to you. “thanks for uh…taking care of me. sorry about all that, i was really tired. or, er, am really tired.” you awkwardly stutter out. 

he hums in response, standing up from the couch and taking long strides towards you. thanks to his height, he’s face-to-face with you in no time. he’s close — maybe a little too close for someone you think probably doesn't even consider you a friend. that leads you to another realization: for someone that you knew disliked social interaction, he’s also talked to you an awful lot today.

“if you were really thankful, you’d go to bed right now and eat what i made tomorrow. you’re exhausted.” he bluntly replies. you gape at him for a moment, about to reply, but he cuts you off. “i’ll be home more often. volleyball is in the off-season now.” 

you know you should just nod and turn on your heel to go to bed, but there’s a question on the tip of your tongue that slips before you’re able to catch it. 

“so… no more whiteboard notes?” you question. sakusa laughs for a third time that night, and you think you’ve hit the jackpot in your slightly delirious state. 

he shakes his head. “no more whiteboard notes for now.”

you wake up the next morning, and when you enter the kitchen, you see a yellow sticky note pasted onto the whiteboard. on it, it reads: 

we can make these lists together now, so there's no need for either of these.

and, yeah, you think you can get used to that. 

[naughtyjjk]

just a massage (pt. 1)

characters: nanami x reader warnings: 18+, smut, massage, sexual tension, dirty talk, fingering, masturbation this fic is planned to have 3 parts. if you want to be tagged when i update (and for future posts in general) just leave a comment! read part 2 here

it’s not your first time coming to the massage parlor, but you still feel a little out of place, even if you know how all of this goes.

there’s no one in the room with you, yet. on the bed, you go to lie down on your stomach with only a towel tied around your waist. this is the procedure—you get undressed first, almost completely naked, stripping free of your stresses so that you're ready to fully relax and alleviate any soreness in your body. but you can’t help feeling a little self-conscious every time you start.

what you don't expect is for the masseuse to appear through the doorway completely shirtless, wearing only a pair of tight shorts. nothing is left to the imagination, so you can see everything that he has to offer. it’s hard not to stare. he’s... well, he's hot, your brain supplies unhelpfully.

you take a moment to appreciate the sight of him. the man's blond hair is stylized in a clean look, and he has sharp eyes and an even sharper jawline. his chest is toned, his abs look delicious, and his thighs are thick and strong. it's obvious that he works out regularly. and you didn’t intend to check him out so thoroughly, but your gaze drifts to his arms, the veins that are visible there, and down to his hands.

in a moment, those hands are going to be on you. all over your body. you swallow at the mere thought of it.

before you know it, the man has made his way to the massage bed, standing right next to you. he nods at you in acknowledgement and says nothing else as he grabs all the items he needs from the counter to the side.

you know that his name is nanami kento because it had showed up when you booked the appointment, but it's still a little strange that he doesn't introduce himself whatsoever. he seems to be the quiet type, but from the way he moves, there's confidence, too. he must be skilled at his job.

watching him, you find that you can't look away. it's embarrassing to admit, but you've been fighting to keep your thoughts pure this whole time, and it's quickly becoming a losing battle.

his back is turned to you and you watch his muscles flex as he moves. there are dirty thoughts swimming all through your head; you can't help it, not when there's such an attractive man in front of you on full display. you feel guilty too, because it's not like you came here for anything other than a massage, and nanami is so serious looking that you can tell he holds himself to a high degree of professionality. there's no way he would go after a client. the thought probably never even crosses his mind.

knowing this, you tell yourself to calm down. don't stare at him too much. don't let him realize how you're practically lusting after his body.

he gestures at you and that's when you finally snap out of it. he's telling you to get comfortable on the bed and you do as you’re told, sighing once you're in position. there’s gentle instrumental music playing in the background, a soothing tone that could probably lull you to sleep after a while. right now though, sleeping wouldn’t be possible, given how you’re hyperaware that nanami's full attention has turned to you. 

a second later, without any warning, you feel cool liquid hitting your back and you almost gasp aloud. following that, a pair of warm hands begin to spread it all over your skin. up and down, nanami moves slowly, rubbing across your shoulder blades, along your spine, fingers splayed out. occasionally, they’ll wrap around your ribs, tickling the sides of your breasts.

once the oil is spread out evenly, nanami focuses on your shoulders, kneading into the muscles there. he’s skilled, you can tell that much. somehow, he manages to hit all the right places, working out knots in your muscles that you didn’t even know were there.

“hmm. you have a lot of tension in this area,” nanami murmurs, pressing down. “where else do you usually feel discomfort or pain?”

he asked a question, but all you can think in the moment is, god, his voice. it's low and a bit rough and it does something to you, awakens something in the pit of your stomach.

your eyelids have fluttered shut, melting under his touch. you feel so comfortable here that you almost forget to reply. “mm… a bit lower.”

following your directions, nanami slides down to your lower back, palms dragging against your skin as if to pull all the tension away from your body. he reaches the dip where your hipbones start, rubbing the skin with his thumbs.

“here?” nanami asks, and you hum in confirmation. “let me know if it hurts, but i’m going to go a bit deeper. usually, it’s most effective when you press hard…”

somehow, the pressure is just right that it makes you let out a soft moan, entirely unintentional. embarrassed, you mumble, “s-sorry.”

“don't worry, sweetheart,” nanami reassures you, and that nickname has you melting. he presses at the same place once more. “it's better not to hold back your sounds. letting it out can help make you feel better as well.”

so, even though it still makes you slightly self-conscious, you allow yourself to freely vocalize your appreciation for nanami's work whenever he hits a particularly good spot. after a while, you hardly even notice your own noises, too engrossed in everything nanami is doing that’s making you more and more relaxed… and maybe something else, too.

you don't know if it’s caused by the increased blood flow from nanami warming up your body or what, but you start to notice something stirring inside you. something that you recognize and can only be described as getting turned on. fuck, you curse mentally. this isn’t right. nanami may be insanely attractive, and he's treating you so well, but in the end, he’s only doing his job.

“try not to move so much.” nanami holds you still, bringing your thoughts back to the present. his voice lowers in pitch, just a whisper when he adds, “i know you can be good for me.”

and that—you swallow thickly. you can’t tell if nanami said it on purpose or if you're just interpreting it the wrong way because you're starting to get all hot and bothered now, fighting to keep your growing arousal in check.

but nanami only moves on as normal. he slides both hands down one of your legs, then back up. he does the same for the other leg. again and again, he continues, alternating between the right and left sides. each time, his hands seem to move further inward until he’s fully concentrated on the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

for a brief second, nanami's hands snake under your towel, brushing against your ass. it happens so quickly that he has already retreated before you can even process it. but then it’s there again—a slight pressure on your ass, just grazing it with his fingertips. so light that it could be passed off as an accident. this time, you gasp, feeling tingles spread from the place of contact.

“does it feel good?” nanami's voice is suddenly right beside you, whispering in your ear. the tone is low and sultry—seductive, even. there’s something inherently sexual about those choice of words, the way he says it, the implications behind them.

“ah—y-yeah.” you shudder making a physical effort to keep your breathing even. “feels good.”

satisfied, nanami asks, “want me to keep going?”

and, you think, is this really happening? maybe you were wrong about him. maybe he's not as serious as you thought he'd be, because he clearly knows what he's doing to you. he has to… right?

your heart is racing, and all nanami does is wait patiently for your answer. so, you shift on the bed, spreading your legs apart just the slightest, but it’s an obvious invitation that you know nanami will pick up on. “please.”

without even seeing him, you just know that nanami is smirking.

you moan when he slicks his hands with more oil and begins to run them along your thighs again. heat rushes between your legs and you hadn’t noticed until now, but there’s definitely a wetness there. and it’s not just from the oil—you're dripping, no doubt caused by nanami's sensual motions.

the rational part of you thinks, fuck. this is so inappropriate. you shouldn’t be getting aroused from this, all turned on and riled up in a massage parlor of all places. but the two of you have already gone well past what’s appropriate and there’s no denying that you want more.

“mm… n-nanami,” you try to convey with urgency.

"kento," he corrects you. "call me kento."

shuddering, you moan out, "kento."

nanami's breath hitches at the sound of his name around your lips and it's the first real sign that he's affected by all this, too.

“good girl,” he says, voice low and soothing. the praise sends shivers up your spine. “just relax and focus on my hands.”

it’s not like you can really concentrate on anything else even if you wanted to, especially with the way nanami is being so distracting. your mind is going blank more often than not, but still, you have to ask, “i-is this something you do regularly with your clients?”

“give massages? that’s kind of my job.” nanami chuckles, hands never stopping even once. he’s deliberately missing the point, even though it’s obvious that he’s aware how this is quickly veering away from being a normal session. “now, stop thinking so much and just feel.”

his hands meet in the middle where they rub along your inner thighs, brushing against the sensitive skin, sliding dangerously close to your pussy. moaning, you let himself get lost in the sensations, finally giving in.

“ngh—there,” you mumble. “o-oh… fuck…”

“that’s it, let yourself enjoy it. there’s nothing to be worried about.” nanami's movements have grown more daring, not at all matching his words. “remember, this is just a massage.”

nanami moves higher and higher, nudging the towel until it’s riding up on your hips, exposing your ass fully. he pauses as if to admire the view before warm hands caress your cheeks, rubbing in circular motions. the oil makes everything feel even better, a smooth glide across your skin as anticipation boils inside you.

it’s hard to tell how long this goes on for. nanami seems content just touching you, holding the mounds of your ass in his hands and alternating between gentle scrapes of his fingertips and hard squeezes with his palms.

soon, the rhythm of his movements begins to change, and it takes you a moment to realize that nanami is subtly spreading your pussy apart. you hold your breath as he trails a finger slowly, slowly along the outside of your opening.

“you have a nice pussy,” nanami says appreciatively, almost like he’s just making normal conversation, and you go hot at the compliment. “so wet and tight…”

fuck. you can’t help it; arousal washes through you and you have to bite back a moan as nanami continues working his magic. you're being seduced—every dirty word insinuating something more is calculated, every touch on your body is meant to break you down—and you're hardly even resisting. the sexual tension is palpable in the air. it’s no surprise that you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.

you swallow, mouth dry. you remind yourself to take slow, steady breaths.

it’s just a massage, you think helplessly as nanami brushes past your pussy again and again and again, merciless in his assault, leaving you trembling on the bed. without fail, your body flinches every time those skilled fingers come in contact with your most sensitive spot. it’s torturously repetitive, and you may know exactly what’s coming, but the effect it has on you is still the same.

just a massage, you think as nanami traces around your opening, applying almost enough pressure to push inside. groaning, you lift your hips subconsciously, trying to get him to go further. nanami only chuckles at how eager you are and removes his hands altogether. it's fucking agonizing.

just a massage, you think. except it’s not. not with the way nanami is playing with your pussy, feeling the wetness there. he brushes a single finger past your clit, igniting every nerve in your body, and you jolt at the sensation. you feel yourself throb with need, so fucking turned on.

“oh—mm, kento…”

“look at how much tension you have here,” nanami says. “you’re all pent up, aren’t you? is that why you’re… looking for some release?”

moaning, you're finding it increasingly harder to concentrate on anything other than the hands that are teasing you. and it is teasing—every action slow and languid like nanami has all the time in the world to take you apart. you can’t help but get impatient, frustrated at the fact that you're both still keeping up the pretense of treating this like a regular appointment.

because what you really want is for nanami to pound you into the bed already, use those skilled hands of his to slip inside you and finger you as deep as he can go. talk dirty to you as the two of you fuck while forcing yourselves to be quiet at the same time in case anyone could hear them from outside the room. god, just imagining it has you getting more wet, your pussy pulsing and begging for more of his contact.

any chance you had of holding back is gone. you're only getting more turned on by the minute, given the suggestive tone of nanami's words and the way he seems to know all of your weak spots, taking full advantage of them. fuck, nanami has made you so horny.

but nanami seems to decide that he’s done playing with your pussy for now. he goes back to rubbing your ass, then shifts to your lower back, higher until he reaches your shoulder blades. and down after that, both palms flat, drawing parallel lines on either side of your spine, over your ass, along your legs.

squirming on the spot, you wait rather impatiently for nanami to touch you where you want it again. but what he does next surprises you—he pulls at the towel and wraps it tightly around your waist, securing it in place as if nothing had happened. then he steps back and clears his throat.

nanami says, simply, “all done.”

"wh-wha—?” your eyes flutter open for the first time since you started. your head is still clouded with arousal as you turn around to try and get a look at nanami.

“your session is over,” he informs you like he didn’t purposely stop as soon as he got you all worked up. “you can get dressed and go now.”

“but i—” you pause, unsure of what to say. you don't want to leave yet. you're beyond aroused, dripping between your legs, aching for more, and you want nanami's hands back on you until you—fuck, until you come.

nanami licks his lips, eyes darkening as he takes in the desperate state you're in. “i know you might still have some… kinks you want to work out, but our time is up for today,” he says, gesturing at the clock on the wall. “please feel free to book another appointment for yourself if you'd like more of my services."

blinking, you slowly push yourself up from the bed, still processing everything. it’s true that you hadn’t exactly expected to get laid when you came for a massage, but nanami was the one who started it, and he got you to this state—so aroused and turned on that you can hardly think properly. he should take responsibility. but as it is, all nanami does is give you space to gather yourself, back turned to you as he busies himself with setting up for the next appointment.

shuffling awkwardly off the bed, you feel like you just went through one of the hottest experiences of your life only to get denied in the end. your pussy isn’t happy with it either, still throbbing between your legs, begging for attention.

"oh, one last thing," nanami says. he steps closer and closer toward you until he has you pinned against the wall, lining up your hips together and grinding into you, just once.

gasping, you throw your head back, feeling exactly how hard nanami has gotten in his pants. the contact of his erection against your aching pussy is delicious, and you let out an utterly wrecked sound, moaning openly at the much-needed friction. “ah—f-fuck—”

mouth right by you ear now, nanami whispers, “i’ll be waiting for you to come back. next time, i'll give your pussy the attention it deserves.”

as nanami steps away, you feel the muscles in your legs giving out on you. you have to hold onto the wall to stand upright. your head is swimming, dizzy with arousal from nanami's parting words, arousal reignited by his actions.

in the changing room, before putting on your clothes, you slip a hand under the towel and don't think twice as you begin to masturbate yourself, far too turned on to wait any longer. your movements are restricted, but you don't untie the towel yet because it feels more taboo this way, like you're committing a forbidden act, and it gets you off more than you'd like to admit.

the setting makes you hyperaware of your surroundings; people are constantly going back and forth in the hallway, and this is a public changeroom. someone could walk in on you at any time. fuck, the whole scenario shouldn’t be this damn hot.

you're already wet and dripping so it doesn't take much to slip a finger inside yourself, pumping it in and out, slow at first. agonizingly slow, like how nanami would do it if he were here. but even that feels so fucking good, to finally give your pussy some stimulation and relief for being pent up for so long.

breaths coming out ragged and uneven, you close your eyes and lets the desire overtake you as you add a second finger. you replay everything that nanami did during their session, the ghost of his touches still lingering on your body. warm hands up and down your back, your legs, your inner thighs… your pussy. oh, the way he deliberately didn’t give you what you wanted but still teased you, teased you, teased you. you have a lot of tension here…

and then you imagine what the two of you would do if you had more time, if you didn’t care about breaking the rules and gave yourselves over to lust completely. the heat of nanami's body flush against yours, his cock rubbing against you, penetrating you, stretching you open as he fucks you, hips moving frantically until you both inevitably come—

the visual proves to be too much and you moan, low and drawn out, free hand moving quickly to cover your mouth so that you muffle the sound of your pleasure. fuck, you want nanami so bad. you want to lie down on the bed again and spread your legs and feel those enticing fingers caress every part of your body until you're begging for his cock to go inside you. hard and rough. filthy.

your hand leaves your mouth as it trails down to circle your clit, shuddering as you play with the swollen nub there. the pace of your thrusts has sped up significantly, trembling as you lean against the wall for support. your hips rock back and forth, both hands moving in tandem as you finger yourself and pleasure your clit, chasing the high of your orgasm.

somewhere out of sight, you hear nanami talking to a stranger, a colleague, another client, maybe. it’s impossible to make out what he’s saying, but just the sound of his voice, low and sultry and so fucking seductive, is enough to send you right to the edge.

“k-kento…” you moan. god, he’s right there, on the other side of the wall. and it’s more than likely that he could hear you if you're too loud, if you lose yourself and fuck, you might as well admit it: you want nanami to hear you. you want nanami to know that you couldn’t even wait to go home because the session had been unbearable for you and you're just that horny. you would give anything to drag him in here and beg him to make you come.

and it’s coming, your release; you're really feeling it now. your pussy is throbbing hard and fuck, fuck, you're close. so dangerously close. moans spill out of your mouth, panting as you thrust into yourself even faster. you can’t take it anymore. you can’t hold on any longer. your hand draws tight circles around your clit, and a jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine, and then your hips are stuttering, head thrown back, mouth falling open as it all rushes through you at once. o-oh, fuck—

you come to the image of nanami fucking you hard in your mind, smooth rolls of his hips as his cock pushes deep into you, again and again. you come all over your hand, your arousal dripping down your leg, onto the floor. the noise that slips past your lips would be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so fucking good.

slowly regaining your breath and returning to your senses, you look down at the mess you've made, a puddle of your wetness beneath you. you clean yourself up as best as you can and quickly get dressed, grabbing all of your belongings and heading to the door.

as soon as you step outside the changing room, you stop in your tracks. because waiting by the entrance is nanami, alone. the other person must have left already. nanami isn’t saying anything, but the expression on his face tells you that he knows exactly what you've done.

swallowing hard, you walk past him, all the way to the main lobby and out the door of the massage parlor. your pussy is still throbbing faintly in your pants, a lingering echo of your orgasm. you think about the towel and the wetness on the floor you left behind in the changing room for nanami to find, proof of your desire and lust. the self-pleasure you indulged in while fantasizing about nanami.

next time, you think with resolve, you won’t be getting off on your own in a locked room. you're going to have the real thing. 

next time… you’ll make sure that nanami won’t be able to resist fucking you.

.

after you’ve left, nanami runs a hand through his hair and lets out a shaky breath, cursing. he doesn’t know what came over him. as part of his job, he sees a lot of naked bodies, but he’s always been able to keep a distance and maintain a sense of professionalism. but you—the minute he first saw you, he couldn’t deny his attraction to your body, and that feeling only grew over time as he got started on your massage.

he loved the feeling of lathering oil all over your body, running his hands over your smooth skin and around your curves like he couldn’t get enough of you. he loved watching as you relaxed under his touch, as you undeniably became more and more turned on when he took his time teasing you.

just thinking about it again has him groaning. he glances down at his shorts, at the obvious tent between his legs. the bulge there is obscene, fabric stretched to its limit, and he feels like he could burst at any moment. there’s a wet spot where the tip is and and the fabric shifts as he twitches. he doesn’t remember the last time he had been this painfully hard.

and nanami tries to resist, he really does, but he can’t take it anymore. he’s so fucking aroused that he can’t think straight at all. pushing down his pants, he lets out a sigh once his cock is finally free, springing up now that it’s no longer restricted within its confines.

it stands tall between his legs, rigid and rock hard, curving upward. the veins are prominent and he’s leaking uncontrollably, precum pooling at the head and spilling down his shaft in a steady stream. 

standing by the bed where you had been lying not long ago, nanami closes his eyes and thinks of you in his mind. he doesn’t touch himself yet; instead, his hands start on his neck, trailing down to his collarbones and chest, pausing to play with his nipples. the jolt of pleasure there causes his cock to twitch in anticipation. then he goes further, down his stomach to his hips, brushing against the base of his cock... 

his hips thrust forward into the air, into nothing, as he imagines himself climbing on top of you on the bed, pinning your hands so that you can’t escape. he lines up his cock with your pussy and pushes into your entrance slowly, slowly.

here, nanami finally allows a hand to touch himself. he’s waited long enough; he’s about to go crazy with arousal and can’t fucking take it anymore. fingers wrapping around his length, he gives himself a firm squeeze, moaning, feeling his cock throbbing hard in return. 

and then he snaps, the last bit of his self-control withering away. he pumps his cock with purpose, fast, faster, until his hips start moving in time with his hand, bucking forward at every stroke. he’s fucking you, fucking into that tight pussy of yours, watching as you squirm and tremble and moan beneath him.

breathing hard, nanami twists his hand and circles his cockhead. the action makes his hips stutter, a rush of pleasure washing over him. his whole body is burning hot. he’s getting close, working himself right up to the edge, so close to coming now—

his balls feel so heavy and full. he has to use his free hand to hold onto the side of the bed as he feels his knees going weak, stroking steadily, never stopping or slowing down. his cock aches, throbbing in his grasp. one finger swipes over his slit and his mouth falls open, head thrown back as he whines and cries out. 

he thinks about what you’d look like when you come, begging him for your release. p-please, kento, fuck me harder—i need your cock—i-i’m so close, i’m gonna—gonna come—

“f-fuck,” he grunts. and nanami is coming with you, choking out a broken moan as his cock pulses and pulses. with two more strokes, all the tension in his body is released at once, ropes of white splattering in front of him. he comes in spurts, emptying everything he has all over the massage bed, and it’s absolutely filthy. 

he’s still panting by the time he’s done, coming down from the high of his orgasm. looking around, he remembers where he is and feels dirty for jerking himself off at work. quickly, nanami cleans up the evidence, wiping and sanitizing the bed so that it’ll be presentable for future appointments.

looking at the door, he’s grateful that no one walked in on him because he’s not sure whether or not he would’ve been able to stop in the moment. it had felt so good. he had been so fucking horny, all because of you.

he doesn’t regret doing it. he just can’t let it happen again.

.

part 2 here! part 3 coming soon

tag list: @megumisdivinedogs @urlilwhore @l0rdgeosupport3rr @purple-obsidian

(comment to be added)

[jezabelle9299]

Make-up Birthday S.R x FEM! Reader

Overture: Spencer didn't just miss your birthday he forgot it. (Happy Ending)

C-Ws: Missed occasions, pushing down feelings for the benefit of another person, Spencer chose Gideon over you

A/N- Baby's first angst, go easy on me. And I've been in a sour mood so I have 2 other angst fics (also birthday themed), that will probably be posted sometime this week. Our regularly scheduled sap will return next week.

You weren’t a very big birthday person. Of course when you were young you had birthday parties with all of your little friends, but as time went on, things got busy. It was pushed to the side for years, until you preferred to just ignore it. Until a few weeks ago, when Spencer asked what you’d like to do to celebrate. You told him nothing was necessary, but he insisted that the two of you at least spend the day together. You let yourself get excited, you made good plans, just takeout and movie night, but that was enough. If it were anyone else you’d remind him, several times, but you knew he wouldn’t forget. He didn’t forget anything.

This morning you woke up to an empty bed, and you knew Spencer had gone to work. He had a few meetings he mentioned having to go to about their latest cases, but you weren't expecting him until this evening. The day passed you by when you got set up, but time slowed down when there was nothing to do but wait. Each second passed a little slower than the last, until you got worried. You haven't heard from Spencer all day. 

You: Hey Spence, everything ok?

Spence: I’m ok, just got caught up at work. I’ll come to your place as soon as I can. 

You: Ok, see you then

You were glad he was ok, and you knew he’d rather be with you, than at work. Something important must’ve come up, he wouldn’t miss this over nothing. But time passed with no more texts, until you resigned yourself to him just not coming. You changed from your date outfit into some comfy pajamas, and laid down in bed. You weren’t upset with Spencer, this job was important to him, and you knew he felt like he had something to prove just being there. You could celebrate another day.

It wasn't until well after nine when Gideon asked Spencer what he was still doing here, he’d mentioned weeks ago that he’d need to leave early. That’s when Spencer realized what he was missing. It wasn’t just movie night, by now he’d missed almost your entire birthday, after he’d pressed you to celebrate it at all. He rushed out as quickly as possible, but by the time he got to your place it was too late. He knocked on the door and as soon as you answered, all the apologies came pouring out. He couldn’t make himself stop until you put your hands on either side of his face making him look you in the eyes. 

“It’s ok Spence, I know how important your job is, and we can celebrate another day.”  

He leaned down to hug you, burying his face in your neck. “I’m so sorry honey, it totally slipped my mind. But I promise to make it up to you.” You pulled away from him at that. 

“Wait, what do you mean?” He just looked at you, like he was replaying what he said to figure out what he did wrong. 

“You–you forgot?” 

“I thought you knew.”

“No, I didn’t. I had this picture in my mind, like when you leave for cases, when you tell me how you wish you could be here.”

“I do wish I was here, baby. You mean the world to me.” You couldn’t keep doing this, his reassurance was breaking you down bit by bit. Sure now he wished he was there, but he didn’t even realize you were missing him. 

“I’m gonna go for a drive I think, we don’t have to celebrate another day, it’s fine.” 

“No please stay– please let me make this up to you.” His phone rang. A shrill tone cutting through, nearly making you wince.

“It’s Gideon, I have to take this. But please stay with me, I want to talk about this. It’ll only take a minute.” 

“It’s fine, I’ll talk to you tomorrow Spence, just remember to lock up when you leave ok?” You picked up your shoes and keys before you walked out, still in your pajamas. You gave him not even half of a smile, and it was breaking his heart. But he couldn’t ignore the call.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Gideon was like a father to him, and even though he winced when the door shut behind you, quietly, as if you weren’t even upset, he still answered. There wasn’t even a case, Gideon just had a question about some evidence. Nothing would’ve happened if he didn’t answer, no one was dying, and the only one hurt was you. He couldn’t have just ignored the call, and now you were gone. 

Spencer didn’t forget anything, but somehow he forgot this. 

You weren't sure where you’d go. You decided to allow yourself one evening to be upset. To acknowledge that this whole situation sucks and honestly today your usually wonderful boyfriend kind of sucks too. You’ll feel guilty about it tomorrow, but tonight you're going to drive an hour and a half down the highway, just to turn back around so you could avoid the drunk drivers on the road when the bars close. Spencer should be gone by then, you’re sure Gideon was calling to steal your boyfriend away on a case again and you’d call him in the morning to make sure he got there ok and tell him to be safe like you always did. 

What Spencer did was important, and you couldn’t be mad at him for missing something as silly as a birthday for a work problem. But he wasn’t out saving lives like you thought. It may be selfish or overly-presumptuous about your standing in his life, but when you missed him it made you feel better to think he was missing you just as much. How he was at work thinking about how he loved you. And today was the day that illusion shattered.

You could only sob at the thought. 

By the time you got home, it was almost 1am. The redness in your eyes finally started to subside, you got too dehydrated to continue actually crying almost an hour ago, so that’s when you decided that the time for being upset over this was done. Even the puffiness in your face was going down. But when you unlocked the door, Spencer was waiting for you. 

“You’re home.” 

“You’re here. I thought you had a case.” 

“No, Gideon just had a question about some evidence, I wanted to be here when you got back.” 

“That’s sweet of you Spencer, but I just went for a quick drive. I’m kind of tired, so I think I’m just going to head to bed now, ok? But I’ll see you in the morning.” You gave him a resigned kiss on the forehead and his heart broke. He did this. And you called him Spencer, not ‘Spence’, not ‘honey’, not ‘babe’. Spencer. It never sounded so awful. 

He did all he could do, he slept on the couch and let you rest. You would be talking about this in the morning. You couldn’t shut him out forever, he loved you too much.  

The beeping of the coffee machine woke him up, his legs half hanging off your couch. He immediately got up. If the coffee machine was going off, you were awake, and you could talk about last night. 

“Honey?”

“Hi, I didn’t realize you’d stayed here last night, were you too tired to drive?”

“No, but I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

“You could've slept in my bed with me.” You were glad he didn’t. But you wanted to maintain your facade, you wanted to forgive him, and forget about everything.

“You’re upset with me, I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m not upset.”

“You’re the love of my life and I hurt you. You don’t have to pretend to be ok with it.”

“It was one day, Spencer. It’s fine, you don’t have to sleep on the couch as penance.” You were putting on your coolest presence, but everything you said still came out as more of a mumble than it would’ve. 

“I need you to listen to me, you are the most important person in my life. I love you so much it hurts, and I can’t stand the thought of you thinking I forgot about you.” That broke your barely held together exterior of confidence.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I need you to know that I love you, I can’t just let this go.”

“Ok fine. You made me celebrate my birthday and when you forgot anyway, it hurt my feelings. But I don’t want a makeup birthday, and I wish I could just forget about it, and I don’t understand why you want me to be mad at you.”

“I don’t want you to be mad, but when you are mad, I need you to tell me. I can’t do anything to help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“But I don’t want you to know when I’m upset. I want to be the cool girlfriend that doesn’t get upset when her boyfriend does something by accident. You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever had and when you make one mistake about something I wouldn’t have even cared about a month ago, I can’t get over it. But I really want to get over it, so could we please just forget about it?” By this point tears were flowing down your face, but you were still wiping your face every few seconds to stop them in their tracks.

“No we can’t just forget, I think you’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met, and it’s not because you ignore your feelings whenever you think they’d be inconvenient. I want to spend the day with you if you’d be ok with it, but if you want some time alone that’s ok too.”

“I want to spend the day with you. But could we leave out the birthday theme?”

“Sure honey, whatever you want, I’m all yours.”

“You know I love you Spence, right?”

“I know, I love you too.” It was an upsetting morning, but he was still overjoyed that you called him ‘Spence’ again. He’d earned his pet name back.

“Do you really think I’m cool?” It was barely spoken into his chest, moreso whined, muffled by the fabric of his sweater vest. At this moment, you were so uncool. Yet he still kissed your forehead as he laughed. 

“The coolest.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I be the asshole if I refused to pay my phone bill?

📱🧾♿️ <- To recognize my post for later :)

The title is probably already a bit of a red flag, but I genuinely didn’t know how else to word it…

For context: I am a disabled, chronically and mentally ill trans guy who recently turned 20. I haven’t left home yet for a lot of reasons, some being that my parents promised to let me live rent-free so long as I was in college (which I am, just not currently for the summer) as well as the fact that they really haven’t raised me to be very independent and rely solely on them (which is honestly a whole other can of worms), but primarily because of my disability. It isn’t safe for me to live on my own, as I faint commonly, cannot stand up for more than maybe fifteen minutes at a time roughly, and sometimes am unable to eat for long periods of time due to debilitating nausea which leads to weakness. I also have severe chronic pain in my limbs and gut, something I’ve had most of my life, while my chronic illness I’ve only had for about a year and a half now and am still struggling to adjust to.

Because of my disability, I also can’t work a traditional job. I offer art commissions online, because I’m very passionate about art and it’s one of the few things I’m good at, and I haul in a decent amount, but certainly not enough to live off of. I make enough to set aside some good savings (I’m currently saving for a wheelchair, as that might grant me more freedom and the potential to get a job at least for the summer) while also indulging myself in buying the occasional fatty treat (I’m very underweight so that’s not an issue, and I was raised essentially in an almond mom household all my life, so this form of eating is really the only sense of control I have over my life, as I’m fully dependent on my parents elsewise).

The issue has come upon relatively recently. I feel like a huge entitled brat for it as well, and if others believe the same, I sincerely don’t blame you.

My mom sat me down the other day and said that she expected me to start paying at least one bill. She offered my cheapest bill (which would be for my phone; my parents bought it, and it’s theirs, they’re just letting me use it as my own.. I don’t own a whole lot of “my” items myself) and asked what I thought about that. I was fully honest with her: if I had a steady stream of income, I wouldn’t hesitate to offer to pay for all of my bills, but with the way it stands, I just don’t make enough month-to-month to regularly afford the bill. I also do my commissions through my phone, so if I could afford the bill, my phone would be turned off, and I’d be unable to continue.

My mom got very upset and started talking to me like a child (though she really has every right to, honestly, and I know that). She went on a very long rant about teaching me responsibility, and how I can’t rely on my parents forever, and that I need to grow up at some point… All things that I fully agree with. I sincerely want to! I want nothing more than to be fully independent. But the way it stands, my parents cover my entire medical bills and they pay for my meds… And I just don’t make enough to survive on my own, and I can just barely afford a meal or two from a sandwich shop I enjoy twice a month to keep my sanity in check because I’m usually bedbound.

I tried explaining to her that I would if I could, sincerely, and that I’m not trying to be a leech or lazy, but she wasn’t having it. She just scolded me and said that if I can afford to eat out every month, then I can afford the phone bill. But again, with the way things are, I don’t think I’d be able to do it every month without tapping into my savings, which again, is for my wheelchair so I can regain some sense of freedom for myself. I’m seriously debating just telling her no straight out, but I don’t know what the aftermath might look like…

So, sincerely: Am I in the wrong here? Should I just swallow my protests and cough up the money somehow? I really don’t know and would love an outside perspective.

[1-800-c3dr1c]

Sooo, let's try this ask thing haha. I was wondering if u cute write a super fluff where reader is friends with coryo and tigris and they let reader into the secret that they've almost got no food at home. Reader then brings them food or invites them over regularly and coriolanus is super thankful + embarrassed at the same time and reader assures him that its alright and happy to help and over time they both confess they like each other more than just friends?

YOUNG! CORIOLANUS SNOW FLUFF ONESHOT.

spoilers for the ballad of songbirds and snakes. spoilers for coriolanus’ backstory. gender-neutral reader. friends with mutuals feelings to lovers.

requests are: open! please look at the pinned post for characters i will write for. <3 let me know if you’d like to be in m tag list for whenever i post anything related to young! coriolanus snow under this post as well, or in my inbox.

i hope you liked this oneshot! i love love LOVE writing fluff, so thank you so much for requesting it!!

word count: 541

it had surprised you when one of your best friends, coriolanus snow, had asked you if he could tell you a secret. he nearly pleaded with you not to tell anyone else about it before he did, and when you promised over and over again that you wouldn’t, he finally took you to his house.

due to his family having been very popular and seemingly well-liked back during the war, this had been a stark contrast to what you had been expecting. he lived with tigris and his grandma’am, which you had known. however, what you hadn’t known was the fact that his fridge was nearly empty every single night, if not completely empty.

it was as if tigris had known you were coming, based upon the solemn expression she wore when you and coriolanus walked through the door. she could only smile sadly at you, and you could only walk over to her and place your hand on her shoulder, quietly reassuring her and coriolanus that you would help them.

and you did. you consistently invited them (including the grandma’am) to your house for dinner, making them delicious food and making sure that all three of them were well-fed. they would always profusely thank you, unable to do much else. sometimes, the grandma’am would slip a white rose behind your ear when you walked them to the door after dinner, and it always made you smile softly.

until that changed. one day, it hadn’t been the grandma’am to step forward again to slip a rose behind your ear as you had expected. it was coriolanus. you blinked at him, unspeaking as he carefully caught your chin with two fingers, angling your head slightly so that it was easier for him to slip the rose right behind your ear.

you didn’t move as he stepped back, looking behind him at tigris and the grandma’am. they both nodded to him before beginning to walk off, whereas he stayed right in front of you, just a few steps away. he swallowed thickly, and suddenly you could see how.. nervous he seemed to be?

“i have something to tell you,” he blurted out, his face flushing slightly in embarrassment.

“hm? what’s wrong, corio?” you asked softly. “are you guys running low on food again? i can start making more-” you started to say quickly, before he quickly cupped your cheek with a hand.

“that’s not what i wanted to talk about.” his voice was quiet, his nerves seeping through the words.

“..then what did you want to talk about?” now you were confused.

“i told you i had something to tell you. well.. i’m just going to outright say it. i like you.” he inhaled deeply, and it looked as if he was preparing himself for a rejection.

however, the opposite happened. you leaned forward, kissing his cheek softly. “i like you too, corio.”

coriolanus froze where he was. had he just heard you correctly? you liked him too. a sudden giddy feeling erupted in his stomach, a stupid smile on his face. “can i..”

he didn’t finish his question, as you kissed him softly, already knowing that had been what he wanted to ask. before you pulled away, you whispered a soft. “yes.”

[stardustdiiving]

Wanderer doesn’t hide the fact he likes Nahida

I totally get Wanderer being snarky is a funny punchline but sometimes I see Wanderer portrayed as being super snappy and mean in response to Nahida trying to be nice to him and I can’t help being like no!!!!!! He wouldn’t do that to her!! :(

Often people seem to think their dynamic is Wanderer being grouchy & mean & telling her to screw off all the time because he doesn’t want to admit he ~actually enjoys Nahida’s company~ but man like. Wanderer isn’t some edgy moody teenager that Nahida has to keep on a leash and scold regularly whenever he acts out—he’s a grown man who’s actually pretty emotionally perceptive/intelligent when he wants to be in my opinion—he’s just very blunt and cynical and often rude/harsh as a result

Wanderer hates sugarcoating his emotions & if him liking Nahida is majorly because he feels she’s proven it’s more or less safe to trust her, i don’t think he has any reason to hide the fact he genuinely respects her and as a result is regularly open about this when he interacts about her in canon. He may grumble about her requests or emotional earnesty because, well, it’s Wanderer, but imo if he were regularly snappy/mean to Nahida even in an “all-bark-no-bite” way we would’ve see them interact like that on screen already—but we don’t, and the fact that’s now how does treat her is a part of their dynamic I find very endearing and enjoy a lot—so I want to highlight it!

Like…look at how he talks to/about her even just going off of inversion of genesis alone:

I feel hes noticeably more cordial and cooperative with Nahida compared to say, Traveler & Paimon—he doesn’t try to intentionally provoke her for fun (or out of spite in the case of early IoG) the way he does with us/Traveler, both in Inversion of Genesis and Parade of Providence. He spends all of PoP intentionally trying to act suspicious/up to no good to mess with the Traveler & Paimon whenever we run into him—and then we get to the end of the event and find out Nahida just… asked him to monitor the event to make sure there wasn’t any trouble (+ wanted him to make friends LOL).

Like we literally see Nahida playfully tease him on screen and he doesn’t snap or get really grouchy with her…he just tolerates it like a mildly disgruntled cat

Which is…cute! I think it’s very endearing, especially when I don’t feel Nahida is usually playful like this unless she considers them an equal/friend—it feels like maybe she picks up on his energy a bit and adjusts her sense of humor/friendliness accordingly so it’s more intuitive/comfortable for both of them

Everyone jokes about Nahida dragging Wanderer into socializing and making friends right—which is true and something I think is very silly & fun, but again…while Wanderer may grumble about it I don’t think he’s actively mad or fighting with her about it even hyperbolically. Look at how he responds to Nahida telling him she wants to help him reach out to people in Parade of Providence:

This, combined with how he mentions feeling about Nahida not wanting him to isolate & be lonely in his birthday letter (“I can see that she was looking for a chance to make my life more fulfilling, but has she ever stopped to think about what an "experience" it is for others to meet me?”) gives me less an impression Wanderer is outwardly indignant and grouchy about Nahida trying to help him and more like…openly appreciative of the gesture but just doesn’t really think he’s worth the effort

I again think the specific way his responses to her trying to help him emotionally are always worded again show a distinct respect he has for Nahida as a person, and he seems genuinely grateful by the fact she gave him a second chance when, given how internally harsh Wanderer is about things and himself and how much he’s internalized expecting to be used or disregarded by others constantly unless he fights tooth and nail to not be, he probably didn’t expect any sort of grace at all post losing the gnosis, much less having someone seem to genuinely believe in him & want him to be happy/stable when he took said offered chance

I just think Wanderer is someone who cares a lot about being straightforward, especially about things that really move him emotionally, and think it’s really sweet he feels moved enough by Nahida’s encouragement & goodwill towards him to genuinely want to try with life. I get so sad when It seems like people think Wanderer is too like, emotionally immature or jaded to ever care to express how he feels about Nahida even in his own blunt, recovering nihilist way (when he explicitly does in canon IMO) and have him be snarky & grouchy to Nahida constantly, or believe he’d find her being good naturedly silly/childish annoying and scoff at her for it (people seem to think he hates children when he canonically does not and is quite fond of them!! I personally think some of that soft spot comes from finding childish earnestness + innocence kind of bittersweetly cathartic/comforting to see and would be something he’d actively like about Nahida!!) 😔

This is something I always try to portray in my own fanworks of them I just like it a lot, I want people to see the vision!!! Their relationship is very mutual on effort put in from both sides & Wanderer is more open about respecting Nahida than you may believe—which means he actively tries to acknowledge her kindness towards him and she doesn’t have to babysit him or drag him into cooperating with her all the time! And I find it very touching and sweet!

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter fifteen

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: Will I remain posting regularly? That remains to be seen by everyone, myself included....Because every single time I say something, I end up accidentally not posting for weeks. Anyways, enjoy!

Series Masterlist

word count: 2.7k

Two nights later, all Bruce could think about was that Alfred had been right. 

He should have told y/n the truth while he had the chance.

“Where are you going?” 

A full day had passed since y/n found the picture in the elevator, and she half-expected Bruce’s voice to be a dream when she turned around. She hadn’t slept much, except for a brief few hours where her body literally had shut down and forced her into unconsciousness. Fear was her constant companion, but now, when she turned to see Bruce standing behind her with his arms crossed, anger cut through the fog of fear like a spear of flame. 

She mirrored his stance and crossed her own arms. “I’m going to let it slide since we’re all stressed, but try to boss me around again and see what happens.” 

Both of their jaws were clenched tightly shut. 

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. She could practically hear the words come out of his mouth, That’s not an answer. 

“I asked Gordon to come up,” she finally said, caving, though the anger still simmered below the surface. The nerve that Bruce Wayne had to barely be home, to barely care about her, and still try to boss her around all the same. She was this close to punching him in the face or pushing him down the stairs. Or maybe she would pour ice cubes in his bed next time he was asleep. “And if you’re going to bother me every single time I’m next to the fucking elevator, think again.”

Bruce relaxed marginally, completely ignoring her barbed comment–which was probably for the best. She had no energy left to really fight, anyways. 

Most of that energy had gone towards a preliminary article she had just submitted about the Gallo family. She hadn’t released any details about her involvement with them, merely reporting the fact that they were trying to make a move on Gotham. 

She had debated doing the article at all. Was it better to pretend like nothing was happening? Was it better to keep her head down and wait for it to resolve itself, whether because of Gordon and the Batman or through the Gallos finally getting to her? 

But then she realized that the people of Gotham deserved the truth, or at least as much of it she could get away with. She was already a target, but she didn’t need everyone else knowing that. 

So she had simply decided to send an article to print that Gotham was on the brink of another mob takeover, just like all of the business with Falcone and Maroni and everyone else who had corrupted their city. 

If only half of the city shared her views, y/n knew that they wouldn’t be happy with someone else trying to worm their way into their city. Gotham might be a shithole, but it was their shithole. 

The moment she had hit send, it had hit her. 

She didn’t want to be a sitting duck. She wanted to do something about it. She wanted those bastards gone. She wanted the work Bella Real and the Batman and cops like Gordon had done in the last year to stick–or at least have the chance of doing so. 

She had called Gordon, told him she wanted to talk over some things, that she needed company anyways. 

And now there she was, staring down the man who had broken her heart, waiting on Gordon to arrive on the elevator behind her. 

“Gordon and I are going to have a private conversation,” she said pointedly as the elevator doors slid open behind her. 

“Y/n,” Gordon said in greeting, but she still didn’t turn around. She and Bruce were still in the middle of their standoff. “Mr. Wayne. Good to see you again, at least under more…normal circumstances than last time.” 

She raised an eyebrow at Bruce. She could tell he wanted to argue, wanted to stick around and stick his nose even further into her business. But after a long silence, he inclined his head and said, “Detective,” before turning and disappearing back the way he had come. 

Once Bruce was safely out of earshot, she gave Gordon her full attention and said what had been on her mind the past couple of hours. Or, if she was being completely honest, the past several days.

“I want you to use me as bait, and I don’t want you to argue about it. I want you to help me actually figure out how to get rid of these motherfuckers.” She crossed her arms again for good measure.  

Gordon sighed, long and loud. She expected an argument or a lecture or a combination of the two. But instead, all he said was, “We better bring our other friend into this discussion.” 

–

“Absolutely not,” was the very first thing the Batman said when she laid out her plan. 

“Yeah, well, as I like to point out to certain other people in my life, you’re not the boss of me. I’m going to do something stupid with or without your help, because I am fucking sick of this. Alright? I can’t live like this.” She shivered as a particularly brutal gust of wind cut through her. 

They were on top of the signal tower. She and Gordon had decided together that it was easier to smuggle her out than it would be to smuggle Batman in. Besides, she didn’t want those two parts of her life mixing. God forbid Bruce find out what she was up to. She was arguing with him enough already. 

Not to mention the fact that she didn’t want to disappoint Alfred, or cause him any more stress than she already had. 

The smuggling had taken a willing female detective–a nice woman in her late thirties name Lori Ayers–trading places with y/n. They were relatively the same height and build luckily enough, and Detective Ayers was already assigned to the security on Wayne Tower. An outfit switch, a fake detective badge, and lots of praying later, and there they were. Y/n had asked Gordon and Ayers if she could have a gun, but both of them had practically shouted no in her face. 

Gordon held up his hands, ever the peacekeeper. “Listen, man, I’m not saying we should put her in any unnecessary danger, but–” 

“The whole idea is unnecessary danger!” The Batman cut in. His voice echoed in the darkness of the night around them. 

Gordon continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “–but all I’m saying is that we aren’t any closer to catching these guys. None of us are. So if we can do something we know will draw them out…why not do it?” Gordon gave her a wry look. “And, like she said, it’s probably better to have us for backup before she does anything stupid on her own.” 

Y/n gave Batman a triumphant look as if to say See? I’m right. 

She studied him while he worked his jaw in annoyance. Was he sick of looking out for her? Because she was certainly sick of needing to be looked out for. She wanted to end it. 

“Fine,” he said, the word a growl he spat out. She tried to resist pumping her fist in the air, she really did. He gave her a Look with a capital L that had her lowering it immediately. “But let me just–let me follow this last lead, alright? If it doesn’t pan out, we’ll make a plan. Give me tonight before you do anything stupid.” 

She nodded eagerly. “Great, fine. I needed to get out of the house anyway.” Gordon was also giving her a Look. “What?” she said a bit defensively. 

“You’re awfully upbeat for someone who wants to offer herself up for bait to the mob.” He raised one dark eyebrow above the frames of his glasses. 

She shrugged. “Well, I have cabin fever, so this helped my mood immensely. Plus, the end is in sight. It’s about to be over, one way or another.” 

Later, when she thought back to that moment, she would wonder if she had jinxed it. Or maybe she was simply jinxed all along, one thing leading to another, leading to its inevitable end. Leading to the only possible way it could play out. Her luck, ever since stepping foot back in Gotham–and even before then, ever since Alfred had knocked on her apartment door–had been nonexistent. 

“One last lead,” Batman repeated, holding her gaze steadily for once. Something ran through her like an electric current at that look. Like he was trying to tell her something. 

“One last lead,” she said, crossing her heart for good measure. “I promise I’ll be good.” 

Gordon chuckled like he didn’t quite believe her. “Alright, let’s get back.” 

“I’ll follow you,” Batman said, interrupting her thoughts of how she was going to get Gordon to sneak her past Bruce and Alfred both. She hadn’t told either of them she was leaving, and she didn’t want to think about what they would say to her if they found out. It would only make her life that much harder. 

Her ride back with Gordon was mostly quiet. 

“Where did you get this fake badge anyways?” she asked when Wayne Tower’s doors finally came into view. She toyed with it, noting all the ways it looked like the real deal. Maybe she could hold onto it…just in case. 

“Confiscated it from a kid caught forging all kinds of stuff, including badges she used to get classified materials.” 

She. Interesting. Sounded like somebody y/n would like to hang out with. 

She didn’t say any of that out loud, however. All she did was hum and put the badge back on her belt. 

“And no, I won’t give you her name,” Gordon said. Their eyes met and they both laughed in tandem. 

“Fine, fine. I might be able to find it on my own anyway.” She winked. 

They parked in an alley where Gordon or the other detectives on stakeout duty usually parked. As they stepped out into the cold air, Gordon’s phone rang. 

“Just a second,” he said, stepping further towards the mouth of the alley. “I have to take this. Don’t move.” He pointed at threatening finger at her. She held up both hands in surrender. 

He needn’t have worried–the sound of an approaching motorcycle reached her ears as Batman pulled into the alley behind them. The noise reverberated off of the building walls for a moment before abruptly shutting off. Gordon locked eyes with him, inclined his head, and then answered the phone while striding towards the street ahead. 

“So,” she said casually to Batman as he stood broodily in the shadows. “Think I could have been a detective in another life?” She struck a little pose in her smart, borrowed business suit and trench coat, imagining the fake badge glinting in the low light. 

Batman made a noise that could have been a scoff or a laugh. “Sure, except you would have been fired for repeatedly breaking the rules. And laws.” 

She laughed delightedly. “You’re probably right.” She definitely had chosen the only profession that suited her nosiness and penchant for getting into trouble, something Bruce had pointed out years ago. 

“I’m definitely right.” 

They were closer together than she expected, the toes of their shoes almost touching. She wasn’t sure how that had happened. It was if they had both been drawn in by the other’s gravity, invisible and inevitable. He stared down at her for a moment before, of course, turning his face away. 

“There you go again,” she murmured as she memorized the line of his jaw. “Scared to look me in the eyes.” She reached out and poked his stubbled cheek gently. He froze, but didn’t make a move to step away. 

“I’m scared for you,” he said in an equally soft voice that sent shivers over her skin. “I don’t want you to have to offer yourself up. I don’t like thinking that I might not be able to keep you safe.” 

Y/n felt each of his words sink into her like rocks in a deep lake, sinking down and down and down until they settled at the bottom, heavy in her stomach. She was staring up at him now, their breath mingling, and he was finally, finally looking back. 

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. 

Instead, she did the next best thing. 

She stretched up onto her toes and kissed him. 

He went so still she immediately knew she had overstepped–and had overstepped badly. She quickly pulled away, face on fire, eyes straining to find anything to look at other than the rejection in his eyes. Stupid, that was so stupid. Just because he wanted her safe didn’t mean that he wanted her to kiss him. 

But before she got too far, his gloved hand caught her arm and tugged her closer. And then he was kissing her.

She inhaled deeply, her stomach doing somersaults in a way it had never done before. She was flying above Wayne Tower yet still somehow firmly rooted to the ground. It was like she could finally breathe again and yet somehow she was gasping for breath. His lips were gentle. One of his hands cupped her elbow while the other splayed across her upper back. She wished he had his gloves off, like that moment in another alley on another night. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. 

Then he was gone, a full step away. 

She couldn’t help it–her fingers traced her lips in a daze. 

They were staring at each other, both breathing slightly heavier than they had been before. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Gordon called from behind her somewhere. She couldn’t bring it within herself to care if he had seen or not. Her and the Batman were still staring at each other, in their own world, a seismic shift between them. 

“Goodnight,” she said, her voice low and raspy with want. 

“Be safe,” was all the Batman said as he watched her go. 

Gordon didn’t look at her like he had just seen them kissing, but she felt as if it were written all over her face. 

“Crime never sleeps,” he said to her as they walked the short distance to the doors. His head was constantly swiveling, searching for danger, and she knew a certain vigilante was watching from the shadows as well. 

Her entire body was electric, every nerve ending on fire, heat settling in her face and chest and lower, too. 

For once, she wasn’t wondering about who the Batman was. Her mind had been rendered totally blank by one kiss. She wasn’t even thinking about how he wasn’t Bruce Wayne, like every other kiss of her life. 

Instead it simply felt…right. 

She blinked and they were somehow inside. 

“Blake, can you escort Detective Ayers upstairs? I have to go to a crime scene.” Gordon gave Blake a long, searching look. Y/n knew that the moment the security guard looked up, he would recognize her. 

Sure enough, he did. His face did something complicated before he realized what Gordon said and stammered out, “S-sure. This way, Detective, um, Ayers.” He hit something on the computer keyboard, scrambling, having to hit whatever button it was a second time. 

“See you later,” Gordon said to her, the words full of meaning. 

She turned towards him and nodded. “Goodnight.” 

It felt stupid, pretending to be someone else in the lobby of her home, but they still didn’t know who had breached security two nights earlier. She knew it was better to be safe than sorry, but Blake knew who she was. What was to stop whoever worked for the Gallos from recognizing her as well? She imagined their pub, Maverick’s, covered in hundreds of stalkery photos of her. 

Gordon waved over his shoulder as she and Blake stepped into the elevator. As soon as the doors slid closed, y/n relaxed a bit. Everything was almost over. 

And she had kissed the Batman.

A smile grew on her face before she could stop it. 

When she glanced up, Blake was watching her. 

His upper lip and his hairline were beaded with sweat and he was much paler than normal. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, wondering if maybe he was sick. Something in her gut shivered with warning. 

“I’m so sorry–” he said, the words choked. “I’m so sorry. They have my sister.” 

That’s when she saw the glint of a needle in his hand.

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[alphajocklover]

As a kid, I watched a film that had these big cavemen tie a nerd to a pole before he was saved by his archaeologist friends. Since then, the idea of a bunch of cavemen taking a nerd to physically turn him into one of them while forcefully dumbing him down makes me so aroused. Too bad it didn't even happen in the movie, let alone real life...

‘Neanderthals!’ has been one of Terrance’s favorite movies since he was a kid, which made most of his friends very confused. A lot of them couldn’t figure out why he liked it so much. Terrance was the founder, president, and only member of his high school's movie club, the volunteer movie reviewer for his college newspaper, and generally the biggest movie buff that most people ever got to meet, but his favorite movie, out of all of the choices, was a C-list kids movie where a bunch of teen archeologist unfreeze three real cavemen who were stuck in an iceberg, and have to deal with their shenanigans. It was nothing special, just a lame kids movie that wasn’t even bad enough to be funny. None of his fellow movie buffs could figure out why you loved it so much, but the answer was surprisingly simple: that movie was Terrence’s sexual awakening. Watching the trio of muscular, hairy cavemen tie up a 15 year old nerd (who was played by a 19 year old actor for some reason) and dance around him ritually woke something up inside of him. He seriously thought for a moment that he was going to watch the nerd be turned into a caveman, and that fleeting thought has stuck in his mind for years like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He became fascinated with the idea of caveman transformations, and had watched the movie dozens of times over the years. Terrance had seen it so much he thought he knew everything about his favorite movie at this point, that he had every scene, every fact memorized. Until he heard about the missing scenes.

Like many small movies, the fanbase for it was incredibly small, but dedicated. It had one small reddit page, with about 7 people who regularly posted on it regularly, Terrance among them. Things were usually pretty calm there, until one day a newcomer to the forum reported that they had found a copy of the movie with deleted scenes. At first Terrance thought it had to be a scam, but the anonymous fan claimed he’d send a copy of the deleted scenes in the mail, for free, and Terrance accepted. He doubted the guy was trying to hack him with a DVD or something, so even though Terrance wasn’t expecting much, he gave the stranger his address (the address of a PO box. He wouldn’t give your address to a stranger, he was horny not crazy). He was shocked when he actually got the DVD as promised, and even more surprised when He put it on. As it blared to life, he immediately recognized the opening! It really was ‘Neanderthals!’ Or at least a version of it! The sender seemed to have cut out most of the scenes that were the same, leaving only the missing scenes and the opening left. Terrance watched in awe, laughing at the bloopers and making notes on the different scenes that were left out. Then, finally, they got to the scene you had been hoping for. 

It started out mostly the same as it did in the original movie, with one of the teen archeologists, Hal the stereotypical nerd, being kidnapped by the three cavemen, who danced around a fire as he was tied to a nearby pole. But soon the scene changed, and unlike in the original, the cavemen turned their attention to their captive. One of the cavemen, the one who gets redeemed toward the end of the movie and marries one of the main character Moms (like I said this was a weird movie), went up to Hal and rubbed some colored mud on his face, making distinct ritualistic markings. Terrance felt warm excitement come over him as he watched the three cavemen chant and dance wildly, and watched as what he always wanted to happen happened. Hal’s skin tanned slightly and his hair grew longer, wilder and dirtier. Terrance watched, entranced, as his muscles grew beefy and defined, practically able to feel the warmth coming from the fire as you did. He could see the actor's eyes glaze over as his brain seemed to melt and devolve, and could practically feel the dumb guffaw he made echo in your ears as his face became more gruff and his intelligence drained. This was exactly what Terrance had always wanted, what Terrance had been dreaming of seeing for years! Terrance’s itch was finally being scratched, and it felt so good. Terrance felt so good. Terrance felt great! Terrance felt… horny! He practically tore off his clothing, struggling with the buttons for some reason, and began to pull at his cock. He felt himself laugh dumbly and began to mutter.

“Terry is so… horny… Terry wants… pussy!” Terrance said, despite having been gay mere moments before. He laughed dumbly as the remains of his clothing magically transformed, becoming a loincloth. Terry continued to jerk his now growing cock as his changes finalized. Terrance was gone, replaced with Terry, a dumb, buff caveman, and all Terry wanted to do was to find a cave girl to plow.

**hey there! First time doing a caveman TF. Found it very hot (but also hard to find pictures for). Hope you guys liked it!**

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 23

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

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“Sorry about that,” Jazz was as chirpy and radiant as she usually was when she found them in the breakfast room. “Danny’s extra cranky. Probably haven't slept in a few weeks.”

“Everything okay?” Bruce had to ask.

Jazz's smile was bright as she sat down next to Jason, who was finishing his toast. “Yeah! I feel better than ever!”

Right. The vials.

“I meant your brother.” Bruce’s eyebrow twitched with the thousand questions he surely wanted to ask.

Jazz looked up from where she was reaching for the toast and some strawberry jam. “Yeah? He’s sleeping. He’ll be fine.”

Dick chuckled and leaned in. “What Bruce meant to say,” he side eyed his father, who breathed in relief and continued drinking his coffee, “is what was that about? Things seemed pretty heated between Danny and you.”

Jason gave him a warning look, but otherwise didn’t react.

On the other hand, Jazz snorted. “Ghosts’ love language is fighting.” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t actually hurt me.”

Jason’s eyebrows went to his hairline, and very wisely chose to bite back a few questions. Also Jazz’s personality was slowly starting to make sense. He was sure that once he knew everything he wouldn’t need to feel this confused.

“Could have fooled me.” Dick commented instead. “Danny really didn't like Jason.”

“He didn’t—” Jazz tensed. She finished chewing and forced her shoulders to relax. “Is not that— I mean. I think Danny will like him, it’s just—”

“Is this about your exes?” Her boyfriend asked softly, reaching for an apple and putting it on her plate. She quietly thanked him.

“Yes and no. I…” she blushed, “I don’t have the best track record.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “Did you— Uh.” He realized too late he could sound like he was interrogating her. “I apologize, but I need to ask. The report Danny mentioned—?”

“Yeah. That.” With a tired sigh, Jazz put her knife down. “David. He… Well.”

“That’s the one that cheated on you, right?”

She nodded at Jason. “I found out I was actually a side piece. It wasn’t fun.” She scrunched her nose.

“What happened?”

“Dick.” Jason warned.

“No, no. It’s okay. I took care of it.”

“Dislocated shoulder and shattered hand?” Cass spoke for the first time.

Jazz sighed again. “The dislocated shoulder was because he didn’t understand the meaning of the word ‘no’.” She made a face. “And the hand was because I didn’t realize how… soft humans actually are.”

At this point? They were getting used to Jazz — and her brother — being a different category in their heads. For Dick it was like the slight adjustment he had to make when he was with the Titans. He had been the only human, fully human, of the group and he had to get used to his best friends and then girlfriend making these types of comments regularly.

“I found out…” Jazz continued with a distant look in her eyes, “I found out because I came back to the living world sooner than I expected and decided to check out my favorite coffee place and he was there with another woman. I thought — ‘well, I’m not around much and I’m also not the most exciting person, of course I got cheated on’ but the more I listened the less it made sense.”

“You are not boring.” Jason scoffed, frowning a little at the self deprecating behavior and the story. How could that idiot not see what he had in front of him?

“Thanks,” her smile was small, but sincere, “but the story doesn’t end there.” She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as her smile twitched a little. “Things didn’t quite add up and I quickly realized it was me who was the ‘other woman’ and this poor person didn’t know. And him? He was abusing her.”

“What?”

Jazz nodded at Dick. “I followed them, listening in, trying to see any sign that he was not the same person he was with me that he was with her. Claudia — that’s her name — showed textbook behavior of abuse and I had to make sure.” She sighed, leaning back on her seat, looking tired. “Long story short I caught him threatening her and taking her phone and I decided to act. Waited until she was home safe and had a chat with David and told him very nicely that he shouldn’t do that and yes, I may have accidentally sent him to the hospital.”

She went back to her breakfast, choosing to take a bite of her toast and chew for a few moments.

“Claudia took the chance while he was recovering and broke up with him, moved apartments and found the help she needed. I would have preferred she reported him, but I can’t force her and if that was enough for her then it’s fine by me.” She shrugged. “I had to go back to the Realms shortly after so I couldn’t stay to check further, and then things got complicated and I just came back for college stuff and even then I had to be quick.”

Bruce took a sip of his coffee to hide the tiny smile.

Jazz was not a hero or a vigilante, but he could see why she fit in the family so much, and more importantly, why his son liked her so much.

“What happened to the guy?”

Jazz chuckled at Duke’s question. “As much as I'd like to report some type of karmic punishment, last time I saw him he was still frequenting the same coffee place. But he was alone. His hand was healed, though. I didn’t stay longer to check more. I couldn’t.” Her little frown and tense shoulders told them not to pry.

Conversation continued as they finished breakfast, mostly questions about her brother and what they saw almost go down in the kitchen. Jazz was very open about what she could tell, and shared a few stories about Danny and his “bad taste in women”. They noticed how earlier stories about Danny’s powers and Team Phantom adventures were easy for her to tell; but later ones, from about the time Danny graduated highschool, became a stream of “ummm”s and “uhhh”s and “and etcetera” that she used to dance around the truth.

Jason almost felt guilty for contributing to the general subtle questioning, but Jazz was happy enough to share stories and she even acknowledged that she was happy to share the whole thing at a later time.

Soon the timeline that Barbara had roughly put together was filled with tidbits of information — all those blank spots she found were the times the siblings (and their friends) were back in the Infinite Realms. Doing what exactly? That was the final piece of the puzzle.

She talked about training, about classes, about Frighty and Frostbite and Clockwork and a plethora of ghosts as if they were supposed to know who they were — classic Jazz — and with context they quickly understood that the names she repeated the most were some kind of guides or teachers on this mysterious part of her life.

It wasn't difficult to put together that Jazz, Danny and this… “Team Phantom” were somehow related to the High King of the Infinite Realms.

That still left a bunch of questions, like what were their exact roles, who was the king and what were her parents doing during those periods of time. They didn’t broach the subject but they knew from Babs’ research that they were working for the GIW, a sketchy organization that wanted them eliminated, during those times they were in the Infinite Realms.

If they knew about all of this, why haven’t they done something already? If their guesses were correct, they’ve been fighting and training for a bit less than a decade. It didn’t make sense that they had this kind of power, this kind of backup, and haven’t tried to bring down the GIW yet.

Or contacted the Justice League. Sure, they were angry and disappointed that the heroes never came to help, but Jazz insisted they had the situation back at her hometown under control. Technically, they could now ask for that support.

Glancing at Bruce and his calculating eyes, Jason decided he didn’t blame her for not reaching out. And he wasn’t sure what she would do after how bad Bruce had treated her.

“Oh Ancients,” Jazz jumped and put her orange juice back on the table. She glanced at Dick. “The class. Today. I forgot.”

The man chuckled. “I already called and said that I wouldn’t be able to attend today. The show you and your brother put on in the kitchen told me today was going to be interesting enough.”

She blushed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. They are already used to me canceling at the last minute. Just Vigilante Things.” He winked.

“Don’t I know it.” A new voice answered from the door. Danny walked in dragging his feet, hair sticking outwards in every direction and eyes narrowed. “Good morning.”

“Hey you.” Jazz turned in her seat. “You look awful.”

“Is my natural charm.” Danny yawned and sat next to his sister. “Hi all. My name is Danny. Can I eat some food?”

Some at the table chuckled at his words. Bruce nodded, amused, and abandoned all pretense that he wasn’t analyzing the siblings.

“Slept okay?” He asked.

“Better than I have in weeks.” Danny shrugged, making quick work of what was left on the table. He wasn’t picky, and he didn’t complain about the food being cold. “Mostly because I haven’t slept in weeks more than a few naps under my desk.”

“I told you—”

“I know.” He cut off his sister. “I know. I just never find the time.”

Jazz looked like she wanted to argue but chose to let it go and helped Danny assemble the worst breakfast combination in the world. The rest watched in horror and fascination as the young man devoured everything at a fast pace, not caring about chewing or tasting the food.

Once he swallowed, he continued talking. “We have been using the system — you know, the one you created?” He rolled his eyes when Jazz smiled, pleased. “It has been working fine. It’s just,” he sighed, “after you left everything kept piling up. I didn’t know how much work you did — how much reading I would do.” Danny rubbed his face in despair.

“And that’s why Tucker was my back up for the—”

“And he has been doing a great job but I made the mistake of offering my help, you know, I thought ‘oh, I have some free time! I can help my loved ones’ — that was my first mistake.”

“Thinking?” Jazz arched an eyebrow, her smile mocking.

Danny didn’t find it amusing, but quiet and barely contained chuckles around the table disagreed with him.

“Now seriously, do you need me to come back?” She asked, pointedly ignoring the stares, especially her boyfriend’s.

Danny’s eyes opened wide. “No! No, please. You stay where you are.” He gestured widely with his hands. “We got this. You— You enjoy your vacation.”

Vacation? Jazz said she was in Arkham to learn skills for her work in the Realms.

“I told you I’m not—”

“Yes. You are. Vacation.” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her a little. “Stop worrying. We got this.”

“Good luck with getting her to relax.”

“Hey!” Jazz turned towards her boyfriend. “I thought you were supposed to be on my side?”

“And I am. On the side where you stop worrying.”

Danny finally smiled. “You are not that bad, Mr Boyfriend.”

“Jason.”

Danny’s smiles grew with mischief, and didn’t say anything else. Jazz sighed.

“Please behave.”

“I always do.”

“You know as well as I do that that’s a lie.” She narrowed her eyes at her brother. “I thought we agreed you’d behave when you visit.”

“Still thinking you are capable of ‘being normal’?” He did the air quotes and everything. “Jazz, I love you, but you know that—”

“I know.” She looked down at her hands on her lap. “Believe me I know.”

Something clicked in Danny’s mind, because his teasing smile melted from his face the moment her words were out of her mouth.

He glanced at Jason, who tensed at the look, and went back to his sister. “What happened?”

Everyone noticed the switch in the siblings. Danny’s tense shoulders and alert eyes immediately going around the room looking for something. He didn’t know the details but he knew something was up with Jasmine.

“The situation has changed.” She started, still looking down. “I… The—I mean, I will take care of it, I always do, but we need to talk.”

Jason didn’t miss Danny’s dangerous glint in his eye when he looked at him again. Or the green glow in the blue irises.

“You said so in your text.” He nodded. “So this isn’t just about Mr Muscles over there?”

Jazz's soft chuckle was almost able to break the tension in the room. Cass, Duke and Dick stopped breathing, knowing this was it. Damian, who had been ignoring everyone and had been texting John the whole time, finally put his phone down. Bruce and Jason shared a look. This was it.

“How about we move this important conversation to the drawing room? I feel like you will be more comfortable there.” Alfred as always knew when to walk in, and started picking up the dirty dishes without waiting for a reply.

With a few murmurs in agreement, the whole group stood up and moved towards the room they’d been in the previous night. The arrangement was similar, with Bruce in the loveseat and the siblings cramming themselves in the opposite couch to the one where Jason, Jazz and Danny sat down.

Jazz was holding on to her boyfriend’s hand for dear life, trying to calm down. She appreciated his words of encouragement as they walked with the group, and held her head high by the time she faced her brother again.

“Jason, and his family, they… they know.”

Danny lifted an eyebrow. “I have noticed.” He crossed his arms. “After this morning, I’d expect a few screams in horror, but nobody has reported us to the police yet, so…”

“No, no. Danny, they know.”

It took a moment for her words to settle in, but when they did he bared his teeth and stood up. “WHAT?” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What the hell, Jazz? It’s been what, a few months? And this guy,” he pointed at Jason, who didn’t, couldn't, look at him, “makes cute eyes at you so you spill MY secrets?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh yeah?” He threw his hands up. “Enlighten me. Tell me how it was, because I was mostly joking when I said you have terrible taste, but—”

“It wasn’t like that.” She growled, bristling. “Things happened and I really need you to trust me for this one.”

“Trust you?” Danny asked, incredulous. “Are you seriously asking me to trust you right now?”

She straightened her back. “Yes I am. When have I led you astray?”

Danny scoffed. “You want the list alphabetical?”

“Danny.”

The siblings glared at each other, face expressions and eyes telling more than what words could tell. Danny was furious but cautious, and the fact that he hadn’t ran away yet was taken as a good sign. Jazz was hurt and pleading, but firm even when both their eyes started turning green.

Bruce wanted to shrink into his seat in shame, but he couldn’t. He did this. Jazz was forced against her will to reveal information so he wouldn’t march her into the Justice League and trial her for crimes he thought she committed. And now she had the chance to pay back, to rightfully blame him and tell her brother how he kidnapped her and hurt her, and she wasn’t saying anything.

“Okay.” Danny finally said. “Okay,” he sighed, “when we are back home you bet your ass you are explaining.”

“Everything will make sense in time.”

“You are starting to talk like Clockwork.”

This made her smirk. “Good. It keeps you on your toes.”

Danny made a mocking face to his sister and turned to look at the others watching.

“I guess there’s nothing to lose.”

There was a flash of bright light and instead of the tired and burned out younger Fenton sibling, they saw a floating glowing figure dressed in black and white. It was still Danny, but hair was white and eyes were green; and all the ghostly physical traits they saw in the siblings — fangs, claws, pointed ears — were exaggerated in this form.

“My name is Danny Phantom. The one and only hero of Amity Park—” Jazz cleared her throat, “I mean,” he glared at her and crossed his legs in the air, still floating, “I am the only undead hero of Amity Park. I have helpers.”

“Very funny.” Jazz said. She turned towards Bruce, Jason and the others. “Guys, this is my brother. Danny, these are the Waynes. Jason’s family.”

Danny’s eyebrows arched. “You are Bruce Wayne?” The way he asked had zero amount of awe. He was familiar with the name and not in a good way.

“You know who I am?”

“Sam — my girlfriend — knows who you are. She’s been to a few of your fancy-schmancy galas. She said she hated every second of it.”

The older man found it funny. “They tend to be mind numbingly boring.”

“Hey Danny,” Jazz’s voice was careful, “is this place safe?”

This made the young man tense and unfold his legs, all playfulness gone. “What do you mean?”

“I— I did my own check, but I’d feel better if you did one too. I wouldn’t like for, hm, Vlad to—”

“Vlad is involved in this?” Nobody missed the growl in his chest.

“All will make sense, I promise.” Jazz pleaded, lifting her hands in a placating manner.

Jason glanced at Bruce. They knew Vlad Master was bad news, but this confirmed it.

“Okay. Trusting you. Whatever.” Danny breathed slowly and disappeared.

Immediately, Jazz explained: “He’s doing a sweep of the haunt.” Determined, she looked at Bruce and then at Jason. “Will it be okay if I tell him about you guys?”

Bruce looked conflicted for a second, but Jason didn’t hesitate. “Go ahead.” He glared at Bruce as if daring him to say otherwise. “We owe you at least that.”

By the time Danny was back Bruce had come to terms that he had to start being okay with a bunch of things really quick if he wanted his answers. Glancing at Jasmine and how her worried frown never left her, he considered it wasn’t that bad of a step towards properly apologizing to her. She had said a few days ago that his apology at Jason’s apartment wasn’t enough. He was starting to understand the dimensions of the situation he caused.

“Okay. Place is clean. There’s a lot of dead relatives but that’s expected from a haunt like this one.”

Bruce wanted so badly to ask him to elaborate on that. But kept his mouth shut.

“Alright.” Jazz breathed in slowly. “Danny,” she started, “remember you are trusting me, ok?”

“You are scaring me.” He tried to joke, but his sister didn’t even smile.

“Could you please show them the… the other thing?”

“What other—” realization dawned on him. “Jazz, you didn’t—!”

“I haven’t!”

“Then why—?”

“I asked you if this was safe, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then listen to me,” she insisted, standing up to approach her brother. “Trust me. Show them.” She took his hands in hers, the contrast of both the alive and dead sibling blurring the longer Jazz stood there. It was like their auras became visible and pulsed together, a low hum barely perceptible rumbling in the room. “Trust me.”

The rumbling stopped when their hands stopped touching. Danny floated back and let his body lower until his feet touched the floor. He threw a worried look at Jazz and nodded, all aggressiveness dissipating and leaving a vulnerable expression on his face.

He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t have to. Gasps and one yelp in surprise filled the silence when green flames engulfed his body, from the bottom of his feet to the last strand of hair, and in its path, it revealed the same undead creature but not quite the same young man.

Danny looked like a completely different person with the dark metal armor over the suit. He looked taller, and bigger, and his presence commanded attention even if he wasn’t saying anything. He wore a cape dark as night, with millions of stars glowing on the inside, and that floated as if some kind of invisible breeze had entered the room.

The most impressive thing, though, was the black crown over his head. It floated a few inches over his hair, and the flames of his transformation seemed to concentrate in the mysterious metal, flowing and pulsating like a heartbeat.

“I am…” Even his voice sounded different. Heavier. He glanced at Jazz, who nodded. “I am Daniel James Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realms.”

In the following moments, the Waynes felt like they were living in some kind of surrealistic alternate dimension. It was the moment at the maximum height of a jump, right before gravity did its thing and violently pulled you back down to Earth. Watching Danny, who just a few hours before had crashed into the house and looked more roadkill than person, was floating now in the middle of their drawing room wearing a full armor, a burning crown and a heavy presence that rivaled Batman on a bad day.

Dick broke the moment, acting like the gravity he loved to defy, and hollered a laugh coming from deep in his chest. “Eat shit, Stephanie!”

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[pia55tri]

Carcar prompt!!

Carlos follows Oscar back on Insta randomly and Oscar is very ??? about it hehe

thank you for sending in a prompt 🫶

Oscar gets so many notifications on his public socials that he’s muted them all. That isn’t to say that he isn’t immediately informed when anything happens, because he is.

This time, it’s a message from his social media manager, who doesn’t really manage his posts, but does keep an eye out on them for the team. It goes, Just a few comments from some drivers on your latest post. And Carlos followed you back.

And Oscar’s immediate instinct is to ask, Carlos who?

Is it Carlos Alcaraz? That would be cool, but unlikely.

Even just as unlikely is Carlos Sainz Jr. following him back. But that’s just what happens.

Oscar stares at his followers list for a long moment. He isn’t on bad terms with Carlos, per se. But they’re not on — on great terms either. They just.

They talk. A lot. Carlos talks a lot, in general, and Oscar is exactly the type to goad him, so when they end up in the same vicinity — which is often, nowadays, given that they’re both living in Monaco and bumping into each other at the gym, or the padel court, or even Lando’s favourite haunts around the city — they end up talking for longer than Oscar anticipates.

And they take the same private jets. Same planes, if they’re flying commercial. They have the same friends on the grid. They go to the same gym.

It just happens. Oscar never expected it to, but it does. And somehow all those coincidences and those conversations snowball into texting on the regular and sending each other ridiculous posts from the internet and sports news clips and short messages about their very separate days. And.

Anyway. Throughout it all, Carlos never followed Oscar back on instagram. It was funny, at first (and still is, really), because Carlos would leave comments on his posts like a terrible stalker. For the first few weeks of their sort-of-friendship, Oscar doesn’t think that Carlos even knew he hadn’t been following Oscar back. But it’s since been a little joke between them.

(And imagine that, an inside joke between Oscar and Carlos Sainz Jr. Oscar was a child and spectator at one of Carlos’s rookie races. Little Oscar would have laughed in disbelief. Rookie Oscar would have also laughed in disbelief, in, albeit, a mildly different manner.)

So, now. Oscar is up at an unreasonable time, lounging in his underwear, in the middle of his messy room, and staring at the carlossainz55 in his followers list.

What the fuck.

He needs a sympathetic ear.

🏎🏎

“Okay?” Logan is not at all sympathetic. “And, uh, how does that make you feel?”

“I’m. Normal about it.”

“If you were normal about it, you wouldn’t have called me about it at,” a rustle and a sigh, “three in the morning about it. Mate, I have a meeting in, like, four hours.”

“Logan, please.”

“Call Fred or something.”

“No!” Oscar immediately protests. “And no calling Lando either. They’ll just tell me to— to smooch him or something.”

Another pause. “Well, mate, I don’t know what to tell you, but I personally think that if you’re thinking about ‘smooching’ someone at three in the morning, then you should probably do that.”

Oscar groans. “Fuck you, too.”

“Cheers,” Logan says brightly, then hangs up on him.

Oscar groans again.

🏎🏎

He finally gives in to his little lizard hindbrain and pulls up his messages with Carlos.

So you’re finally signing up to seeing me on your timeline regularly?

He stares at his screen with some shock at his own audacity. What is he—

A buzz. And a reply from Carlos.

Much easier than me going to look for your account every time I want to see you, yes?

Oscar stares some more.

Carefully, he places his phone screen-down on his bed. Looks up at the ceiling.

He can feel his heart in his throat.

Well.

Well.

[friendly-neighborhood-boricua]

[3] Career Fair

Summary: James holds a parents' career fair, to which Liam's mom is invited.

Notes: Marauders modern elementary school AU, kindergarten teacher!James Potter x nurse!reader, mom!reader x son!OC (Liam), inspired by this post by @ravishinglavishingluvr. Hah, remember last time where I said I was updating semi-regularly? Ok well I actually mean it now, I promise lmao. Not edited but I'll do that tomorrow. Also kinda short, sorry

A/N (1/8/2024): okok I came back here to change the names of some kids bc I forgot that this is a marauders au so I can use the names of like real kids from harry potter smhhhhh please don't get mad at me this is my first time writing an au

Previous Part: Seeing Each Other Around Town Next Part: Liam and James Make You A Birthday Gift Series Masterlist here

James ended up pushing the career fair back a couple weeks because there was a conflict in the schedule

(not because you emailed him back saying you wouldn’t be able to come the day he had originally planned it)

(and definitely not because he asked you to send him your shift schedule so he could make sure you could come, and you were working overtime for two weeks straight)

(James was pretty sure your work schedule violated some labor laws or something, but he was in no place to question you)

Liam is soooo excited for the couple days leading up to the career fair

Because his mom is cool af and he can’t wait to show everybody just how badass you are

(You had Liam pretty young, so you’re totally the parent who all the kids think is the coolest person alive and who all the kids’ older siblings have crushes on and who all the kids’ parents judge because of your age and assume you’re irresponsible, but we don’t have to talk about that)

James is also excited because he hasn’t had a real conversation with you in a couple weeks and he really just wants to talk to you

Poor Sirius and Remus have had to deal with him swooning and fawning and over you and also helping him frantically prepare for this career fair because “guys it HAS to be perfect”

But at long last, the day finally arrives

James scheduled the career fair in the afternoon so he could threaten children with canceling the event if they misbehave, so both he and his kids are bouncing off the walls in excitement all morning

He eats lunch in the library with Remus and Sirius, and they both spend the entire time hyping him up

(It’s mostly Sirius tho)

“You’ve got this, Prongs—be smooth—be nice—you’re a nice bloke, that’s not gonna be a problem for you—”

And eventually, it’s time

The parents that are participating in the fair arrive ten minutes before James has to get the kids from the cafeteria so he can explain to them what’s going to happen (because god knows the majority didn’t read the goddamn email he sent)

You’re a little late (profusely apologizing again, and it reminds James of the first time you met back at parent-teacher conferences) but you read the email the night before (and take another piece of James’ heart hostage while you’re at it) so it’s no worries

James’ summary instructions take a shorter amount of time than expected, so the ten or so parents all get to talking

And ofc James takes this opportunity to talk to you

You’d emailed back and forth about the fair but you hadn’t really talked in person since that night in the grocery store, and James was starting to feel like he’d die if he went another day without talking to you

So he’s plotting his route to you across the classroom when he notices you’ve secluded yourself a few steps away from the majority of the parents’ conversation

James is also horrified to discover you look slightly uncomfortable

Like you’re somewhere you don’t belong

And of course James can’t have that

So he sidles up next to you and asks how your day is going, if your boss gave you a hard time getting off work early, how the chocolate chip cookie dough from a month and a half ago was—anything he can think of, really

By the time James has to go get the kids from the cafeteria, you’re smiling and laughing, and James desperately wants to keep you like that all the time

He shakes himself out of his daydreamy state on the way to the cafeteria because this is your JOB, James, you can’t be distracted by your favorite student’s mom. His sweet, kind, whip-smart, dazzling … mom …

(In the back of his mind, James knows he’s screwed, he just has no idea what to do about it)

(CERTAINLY not act on it, because that would be a complete conflict of interest and totally unprofessional of him)

(But it’s just a crush)

(It’s fine)

(Right?)

ANYWAY

Liam’s on the lookout for you as soon as he steps through the door, and he beams the sweetest little chubby-cheeked smile when he finds you and points you out to his friends

You wink playfully at him, and he and his friends giggle excitedly as they sit in their seats

If James is being completely honest with himself, the career fair was a little disappointing

The majority of the parents’ presentations were kinda lame

And they didn’t make their jobs understandable or appealing for the kids

Dean's mom (she’s regional manager of a popular grocery store chain) complained to the class about her boss pretty much the whole time

Luna’s father, a rather eccentric professor at the local university, just spewed a bunch of nonsense technical jargon about the soul or the meaning of life or something that not even the adults in the room could understand

And Draco's dad (he owns the local insurance company and is just obscenely wealthy, which explains quite a bit of his son's attitude) straight up said he hated his job, so there’s that

But then there was your presentation

James is sure he’s in love by now because you made being a nurse sound so amazing

You talked about how you’re in charge of taking care of people when they’re sick or hurt, how it’s nice to be able to help people, how even when your job gets hard, you feel like you’ve made a positive impact at the end of the day

Once the parents left, James asked the kids who’s presentation they liked the most

And ofc every kid in that room agreed that yours was the best

And a solid 75% said they wanted to be a nurse lmao and he was just so proud

Proud of his kids and also you because your presentation was just so fucking good

As James is taking the kids out to the buses, Liam thanks him for inviting you to the career fair

Ofc James says it was no problem and that you’re really cool, so it was a pleasure to have you there

And Liam kinda gives James this … look … and is like “… yeah, my mom is cool …”

And James gets this horrible feeling that Liam somehow knows

Knows he’s completely smitten for Liam’s mom

Fallen head over heels

Practically in love at this point (though James has a nasty habit of throwing that word around willy-nilly)

(Liam kinda freaks James out a bit sometimes lmao)

Next Part: Liam and James Make You A Birthday Gift

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Sealing the Deal | #LeviMonth2024 Fluff Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ ~1.1k ✧ notes ➼ post-war canonverse, fem!reader ✧ comments ➼ levi month entry for august 19! i may or may not have a part 2 in the works ✧ join my levi month taglist here!

{{ August 9 (Royalty + Soulmates Part 2) | August 22 (Love at First Sight + Neighbors Part 2) }} Masterlist

“Hey, do you wanna get married?”

Levi was caught a bit off-guard by your question, having not expected the sudden proposal. The two of you were already living together and regularly experienced the domestic life. Marriage wouldn’t have changed much.

“What?” you asked, with a subtle undertone of defensiveness present in your voice. “War’s over and restoration efforts are going smoothly. Why not?”

A few years had passed since the Rumbling, with the two of you having settled down in Marley. You had discussed marriage in the past, but the opportunity kept slipping away from you due to everything that was constantly popping up back on the island leading up to the Rumbling.

A small frown crept onto your face as you noticed that he had remained quiet the entire time.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” you added, slightly embarrassed at the idea of bringing it up if he wasn’t interested. “Was just a thought.”

“I didn’t say no,” he finally responded with a shrug. “Would like to not make it too big of a thing, though.”

Levi wasn’t too big of a fan of crowds, and neither were you. A lot of the friends that you would have originally invited had passed on, but the two of you would have likely eloped regardless. Having that exorbitant amount of attention placed on you for an entire day sounded like a nightmare.

You eventually decided on a garden wedding in the backyard of your home with a few close friends invited, primarily the remainder of the 104th that Levi had essentially raised, Gabi, Falco, Onyankopon, and a few others that you had kept in touch with post-war.

One of the first things you did upon settling down in Marley was building yourselves a house, which included a decently-sized backyard since the two of you liked sitting outside.

The ceremony was set to be simple—just a ring exchange and kiss, with some photos to keep for memories, and a potluck with friends afterwards. It’d feel significant enough, but you’d be able to keep it cozy and personalized in the way that made sense for the two of you.

You took a deep breath as you slipped into the dress that you had prepared for this special day. It was a simple white, flowery dress that flowed over your curves. You had found it at the market the other week while picking up some groceries and thought it was appropriate.

You weren’t sure why you were as taken aback as you were when you stepped out and landed your eyes on Levi. Similar to you, he had gotten a suit specifically for the occasion. He was beautiful as always, with his suit perfectly fitting his shoulders and hips. For a moment, the only thing going through your head was the thought of you ripping it off him later in the night.

Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to have dedicated alone time with him until much later into the evening, you shook your head as you felt yourself getting worked up. You took a deep breath, instead directing your attention towards the little jewelry box in your hand that contained his wedding band.

You found yourself feeling nervous as you walked up towards him, with your heart pounding in your chest as your hands grew cold. It was silly to be as nervous as you were. You had seen him a million times. He had seen you at your worst. There was very little that could happen that would actually embarrass you in front of him. Yet, you still felt anxious.

You were fine once you actually stepped up to him, with your pulse resetting back to its baseline the minute you looked into his eyes and recognized the softer look in them that he reserved only for you.

Levi ran his one good eye down your dress, wondering when you had even gotten the time to get it. He hadn’t even been aware that you went out to secure the dress. You looked gorgeous in it, but Levi and you both knew that you could’ve worn pajamas to this and he wouldn’t have cared, other than maybe a bit of discomfort at the idea of getting home clothes dirty by wearing them outside.

He cleared his throat as a way of gathering both his own and your attention back to the present task—presenting your rings.

“Shall we?”

You had been distracted as you were gazing into his eyes, but you quickly readjusted and nodded, bringing out the small box.

“You first?”

Upon seeing his nod, you began to open the box, finding yourself fumbling with the small container due to your nerves.

Once you finally got it open, you lifted the cover to reveal the simple, deep dark green, single-colored band.

You were overly cautious as you pulled it out and stepped towards him, your hands visibly shaking as you brought the small piece of jewelry towards his extended hand.

Having noticed your nerves, Levi placed his other hand on your forearm to help steady you.

The simple touch was enough. It was like a breath of fresh air as your movements stilled, and you were able to smoothly slide the ring onto his finger.

You kept your own hand extended, watching closely as he pulled out a thinner, but overall matching ring. You had picked the rings out together, so you knew what yours looked like and that it fit perfectly, but you still felt nervous as you watched him slide it on.

You couldn’t keep the smile from forming on your face as it finally hit you that you had “sealed the deal”, even though functionally, nothing had changed.

The two of you found yourselves just staring at each other in astonishment, the whole thing feeling surreal despite the fact that there wasn’t any form of a surprise factor to it.

“…you may now kiss the bride?”

Levi’s eyes widened ever so slightly before he scoffed at your cheesy joke.

“Smartass,” he muttered, before wrapping an arm around your waist, and pulling you in, your body pressing up flush against his. He gently pressed his lips against yours, and you shut your eyes, smiling into the kiss as you returned the affectionate gesture.

Functionally, nothing had changed. Yet, you still found yourself looking forward to experiencing a new chapter in your lives—one without war or violence, just each other, and weaving a life together that helped you encourage each other to keep moving forward.

#: @shayewrites @littlerequiem @mostlilo @humanitys-strongest-brat @dustbuniesworld @levisrations @ebechnasheim @moonchild-angel @jayteacups @bipolargatto @samackermaan @deepzombieyouth @pickledpedro @levisfavoriteteashop @ackermanswifee @ae-chidori @2dsimpomg

[vavoom-sorted-art]

SURPRISE! Of Kings and Kids - Bonus Chapter!

Neither @gaiaseyes451 nor I could get enough of this story, so here we are, wrapping up some loose ends and reflecting a bit about the events that went down, along with 5! juicy illustrations in this chapter! Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

*~*~*

Crowley sighed and softened his tone, beseeching him to understand. “Aziraphale, there wasn’t even a real choice here.” He continued to wear tight circles into the grass. “There was no plausible world where you chose the innocents over the Messiah. Hundreds of lives over, eventually, billions? I know you, making that decision would eat at you,” but I’m a demon, I condemn souls regularly. “Even if it was the right choice by Heaven’s standards, there wasn’t a good choice.” So I took the difficult part, so you wouldn’t have to hold the guilt. “I think this is as close to ineffable as you get.”

“That’s deceitful! You came to me under false pretenses!”

Crowley stopped abruptly. “Oh come on, do you really believe that?” Aziraphale’s fists clenched when Crowley spat the words at him.  

“We’ve been working together –” Crowley paused, fluttering his hands in a vague circular motion between the two of them, looking for the right term for this. “Well, not together but, but with each other-”

“Around each other.” Aziraphale was scowling, but couldn’t help but interject. “Orbiting one another, in a way.”

“Yes, exactly!” Crowley strode toward him, “we’ve been orbiting one another for millennia and you still don’t trust me?” He made no effort to disguise his incredulity. “For Satan’s sake, Aziraphale, I helped you with your Messiah. I got a Satan forsaken commendation for the massacre of children and I haven’t said shit about it to keep it a secret- to-!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s just like you spying on me with the magi. I understand, Aziraphale, I know what I am, but what more can I do to prove you can trust me?” He threw his arms out wide and dropped down onto the boulder, exasperated.

Across from him, Aziraphale seemed to be wrestling with his thoughts. “A commendation? Hell gave you a commendation for the massacre?” Crowley kept silent and listened as Aziraphale stammered half-formed thoughts.  “I know – even Hell must know how you are with children – you would never – why would they….” 

Understanding crept across Aziraphale’s face and he refocused his eyes on Crowley. “They suspected,” he whispered, his anger smothered by the weight of the risk Crowley had taken. 

Crowley made no reply, keeping his eyes stubbornly focused on the fields. Aziraphale sat on the boulder next to him. As Crowley stared at nothing he could feel Aziraphale’s eyes on him, after a few moments a timid question broke the silence.

“Did you use any miracles on the magi, that night?”

Crowley jerked his head to look at Aziraphale. He had expected any number of questions about what Hell had wanted to know, why he’d accepted the commendation, maybe even a bit of sympathy. The question about the magi, about his methods was deeply personal, an unspoken boundary. “...What?”

Aziraphale, to his credit, didn’t look away. “Just answer the question, please.” Crowley narrowed his eyes behind the lenses. Aziraphale had never been present to witness Crowley at work, at least as far as he knew. While he did take a certain amount of pride in his skills he didn’t like talking about them – especially with Aziraphale – but now he didn’t feel he had a choice. Well, here we go.

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and thanks to @goodomensafterdark for the support!